[Chapter 2.1] - Zephyr Horn Village

I am nearly dead, and so weak that I cannot even hold myself up within my own Domain. My mind is slow and fuzzy, and my last few hits have only included a bare modicum of my power. My power, which is all but extinguished.

Thankfully it was enough.

Even as I fall onto the ground, the fire mark I’d targeted upon the seal shifts one last time, before shattering. From that hole appears a crystal clear white spear of light, which suddenly flushes through both my body and my Domain.

Aaaaaah. Can you imagine, suddenly feeling so at ease after nearly dying? The feeling is exquisite.

That energy, regardless of its rather mediocre size, is like a glass of water to a man about to die of thirst in the desert. And it flows through me and just feels perfectly right. That energy buoys me, instantly giving me new strength.

I pull myself off the ground and look at the seal, which has already showing signs of instability. Massively complex constructs like this require a delicate balance of its parts, otherwise it will grind itself too roughly to operate. Just like a machine.

The sudden open space within the seal causes the marks within it to shift, and every time one of the marks moves away from another it allows another streak of magic to flow through it. Just like a dam that has sprung a leak, the slow and inexorable pressure from the other side starts to grind away at it.

Even as I watch, the smaller marks start to shake and tremble, their edges cracking, already weakening.

That’s when I use my newly restored magic on this side to strike it, as well.

So far the amount of magic that has been able to pool inside of my body is still fairly small, but my control of it is the greatest of any being ever born. Where before I’d used my god power like a hammer, this time I use my magic like a needle, shooting out hundreds of tiny pinpricks over the weakened marks within the seal. Each strike is honed to a razor sharp edge, and where they strike entire segments of those marks are destroyed, allowing even more of my magic to flow out.

Once that small crack appeared in the seal, there was no other way for it to hold back the flood.

From this side, I could feel the power that is being restrained by the weakened seal, and reach out for it. This is my essence, my most fundamental self.

It responds to my call, no longer completely blocked. It surges wildly, both inside and out, causing more and more damage.

Then the seal breaks, shattering into its individual segments and marks. If the breaking of that first seal was able to unleash just a tiny trickle of magic, then when the whole seal exploded it was like a sudden flood being unleashed. It swallows the god marks that made up the seal and snuffs them out as if they never existed, consumed by the raw power.

Hell, even I’m forced out of my own God’s Domain by the force of it.

Not like it matters though, cause I could instantly feel my body being flushed by that energy. Magic is both energy and power, and from that well deep within myself it surges through my dried body like a tidal wave, rough and uncontrollable.

Not like I want to control it though. Within my body, it can do as it pleases. For a mortal, such a colossal, never ending wave of magic would have resulted in nearly instant death. Such wild magic surges are deadly.

For me though, it feels as if I’ve just taken the first breath of crisp, clean air. It suffuses me, like the gentle, warm touch of a lover recently returned from a long, long trip. In a word, it is total bliss.

Once I finally get done soaking up as much of the feeling as I can, I turn my mind back to the last pressing matter. Getting the fuck out of this hole in the earth. Of course, that’s where the weak point in all of this appears.

The problem is two fold. The first isn’t really an issue for me though. Still, I shall explain.

Now that my magic is unbound, it not only flows within my body, but also starts to once more flow through the whole of creation. That the moment, that doesn’t really mean much, because everything is very much dried out.

It’ll take quite a while before magic has the chance to build up to the required strength in everything for it to become usable. Except for around me. The area immediately around my body is suffused with the magic I give off unconsciously.

This then has strengthened the stone of my coffin, which is a bit of a problem. Except for the fact that I can control that with just a bit of focus.

The second, and much more pressing problem is my lack of god power.

I barely have 1% of it remaining. That directly relates to how much magic I can use in the mortal world. Which, as you might imagine, is not very much at all.

At least compared to a me at my peak.

It is roughly about what an experienced mage or wizard could do. Maybe even a master of a chosen magic art. Thankfully, I don’t have to use up that last spark of my divine self, but it does heavily restrict what I can do.

Blowing up this fucking mountain over top of my head is quite beyond my means at the moment. Which is frustrating in a whole different way. It’s like being kicked in the balls while I’m already down!

To have all this power and not be able to use it is insulting.

Then again, my only other option is suicide. Now that my magic is returned, I’d simply be reborn again. But no offense, but that option is totally fucking insane. I really, after going through all of this, don’t want to die.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I’m really too angry to want to!

Still, getting out of this hole is going to wear on my patience very quickly. *Sighs* There isn’t any other way though. So I lift a hand and press it against the rock above my head. Through that touch I pool my magic into the area around my hand, before spreading it out in a great web through dozens of miles of rock and stone.

“Move.”

And the rock flows like water away from me.

+|+|+

Walking, walking, and more fucking walking. I thought the getting out from under the mountain was bad, but this really takes the prize instead! Used to I could just fly through the sky or teleport to wherever the I fucking wanted.

Now though, I have to walk. And walk. And walk some fucking more! Gah!

There is also not a fucking thing around either! Outside of the mountain the entire land is dead, dried up, and scorched while also being choked by this fucking miasma. The miasma is the worse, given that it hides everything else from my gaze unless I focus my magic through it.

Fucking unbelievable.

In an area of about twenty feet in diameter around me, the miasma is repulsed by my magic, but beyond that it clouds everything else. I consciously have to pour my magic into the ground and the air around me to keep it from flooding back into the space I had already walked, which leaves a tunnel stretching a long distance behind me.

Can you imagine walking through a black, utterly unknowable fog, unable to see in front of you while behind you a tunnel forms? It is truly strange and not very comforting. After all, it is easy to go back to where you were, but going forward is even harder when you glance back at the clear area!

Not to mention that it is fucking boring. Really, really, really boring.

The miasma is like death warmed over and utterly foreign. And a bit disgusting. Every time I move into a stretch of land that had even a bit of life in it, the miasma has attacked it. Most of it simply dies, but every now and again I run into an area that’s been mutated by the vile shroud.

Twisted trees so pale they almost seem to glow, grass that’s been turned black with red edges, and pools of water which have stagnated and become rotten. The smells are horrible!

The few animals and beasts I’ve run across are even worse. Most are like the undead, horrible shambling things. The rest have turned into true monsters, twisted abominations of what they had once been. Or should have been, in case any of them are actually born that way.

I don’t really know, nor do I really give a damn at the moment.

Running across areas like that leave me with no option but to destroy it. I don’t even burn it with fire. Just by throwing a wave of pure magic through it causes it to die and turn to dust. This, of course, causes what little remains here to turn even more desolate, but I don’t give a damn one way or another.

I can feel the hunger of it all. But unlike the untainted land and air and water, this hunger isn’t for the life giving power of magic. It hungers for blood.

Blood for sustenance. Blood for power.

The need for it is so great that I can feel it trying to reach outward toward the places where living things still are. Like a moth drawn by the flickering flame of a candle, that need reaches out toward a place nearby.

Which is why I’m still fucking walking, instead of having stopped to take a nap.

Thankfully that place is soon exposed, as I step into an area where the miasma is thinner. My range of vision instantly increases, and I’m able to see further beyond where the miasma is yet to go.

A village, surrounded by a bare seven foot tall wall of stone.

Inside of that wall is a bare handful of shacks, with only two stone buildings. Surrounding the wall is plots of land that have been tilled and seeded with only a few variety of plants. From what I can tell, most of it is tubers. Very little green is present.

The sky, however, is thankfully still a nice shade of blue, with fluffy white clouds hanging in the distance. Apparently the miasma doesn’t extend all the way up into the air. Only about a hundred feet or so, once I finally crane my head upwards.

Aaaah, it almost makes me feel good about having made the treck.

However, my presence doesn’t go unnoticed, as there are quite a few ragged and poorly looking peasants working outside the walls. Most of them are working the fields, while some others herd a group of thin sheep and pigs through the browned remains of what should have been a lush plain. My abrupt appearance, out of the miasma on the southern side of the village causes quite the bit of alarm.

After all, how was I to know that people never walk through the miasma? They always travel on roads that are clear of it. Aaaah, oh well.

“Monster! A monster has come out of the darkness!”

Oh joy, this is going to be quite a riot. All of the villagers run away as quickly as the first yell goes out, no doubt to spread the word. It gets even worse when a group of six, armor wearing guards rush out of the eastern gate of the village and make a beeline straight at me. I, however, just stand there and wait, watching.

“Oi! What is a kid doing walkin’ in the miasma?,” one of the guards suddenly shouts at me, waving his spear as if to swing it like a hammer.

*Eye twitch*

“Who the fuck are you calling a kid?!”