*** The Grand Paladin POV ***
Just moments after the mysterious wizard mentioned having friends who could assist them, Reginald sensed a sudden shift as the wizard summoned his sigil, enveloping them in a tight, two-meter-radius domain.
Before Reginald could voice his confusion, his heart skipped ominously, a premonition of danger tightening his chest. Before he could dwell on the feeling, a deafening explosion shattered the air, followed by a tsunami of lightning hurtling towards them from the direction of the pope. Its towering presence obscured the horizon, leaving Reginald breathless as it crashed upon them.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!
Thrown about like ragdolls in a stormy sea, they tumbled within the barrier, surrounded by a tumultuous sea of lightning. For what felt like an eternity, they were tossed and turned until the lightning finally subsided, leaving them sprawled on the ground.
As the wizard released his domain, he doubled over, clutching his chest, coughing violently until crimson stained his lips.
Concerned, Reginald rushed to his side. "Are you alright? Do you still have the recovery potion you gave me? You should drink it."
Waving off the offer, the mysterious wizard rasped, "No," then, with an air of solemnity, he added, "Don't forget your promise. Atone for your actions by saving as many lives as you can, alright?"
Reginald's surprise mingled with a deepening sense of foreboding as he tried to grasp the meaning behind the wizard's cryptic words. "Huh? Of course, but why…"
But before Reginald could finish his inquiry, the wizard was engulfed in lightning, vanishing into the distance, leaving Reginald alone in the grand paladin's hall.
The foreboding feeling intensified as Reginald watched the wizard's sluggish movements, slower than he had ever seen before. Despite his unease, Reginald pushed aside his concerns, focusing on his own recovery.
Three days later, Reginald judged himself to be adequately healed and set off in the direction the wizard had departed. Despite only regaining a fraction of his full strength, he couldn't ignore the gnawing unease spurred by the wizard's parting words, compelling him to pursue the wizard's trail.
Running for five days and nights, with brief rests interspersed to ease the strain on his weary body, Reginald's heart sank as he sensed a lifeless form near his location. Each step weighed heavier than the last, as if his legs were forged from Adamantium, the mere sight of the robe adorning the lifeless body nearly immobilizing him.
Despite the heaviness in his heart, Reginald pressed on, drawing closer until the distinctive robe of the body came into clear view. His worst fears confirmed, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the familiar blue devil mask adorning the corpse. "That means this body is…"
Unable to complete the thought, Reginald found himself kneeling beside the motionless form, its relaxed posture belying the finality of death.
With trembling hands, he reached out towards the mask, intending to close the wizard's eyes and offer a semblance of peace. But his vision blurred unexpectedly, tears clouding his sight. He wiped them away with his sleeve, surprised to find himself weeping. He had believed he'd shed all his tears with Clarice's passing, yet here he was, mourning for the mysterious wizard.
With determined resolve, he touched the mask, intending to grant the wizard a peaceful repose. To his astonishment, he found the wizard's eyes already closed, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though the face behind the mask appeared ordinary, Reginald sensed a warmth that emanated from it, a kindness that transcended mere appearance. Gazing upon the serene countenance, he knew the wizard had departed without regrets, finding solace in his final moments.
Gazing upon the serene face of the wizard, the grand paladin's composure shattered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably. "Why!? Why do you appear so at peace? Why don't you blame me? It's all my fault that you're gone. If I hadn't sought you out for that confrontation, you wouldn't have had to die! Why did you leave without placing blame on me?"
His heart ached with the weight of responsibility, convinced that the mysterious wizard's death lay squarely on his shoulders. If only he hadn't pursued the wizard, if only he hadn't forced him into that weakened encounter with the pope. But despite it all, the wizard bore no resentment, intending to depart quietly without reproach. Reginald couldn't shake the belief that if he hadn't acted on his foreboding, the wizard would have slipped away unnoticed by him.
The burden on his soul grew heavier still. He had only just begun to reconcile with the notion of atoning for his past sins, the weight of lives lost haunting his every step. Now, the guilt of his benefactor's death, whether direct or indirect, threatened to crush him entirely. The thought of ending his own life crossed his mind, for he truly believed he didn't deserve to exist in this world any longer.
Yet, amid his despair, the wizard's words echoed in his mind once more, urging him to continue living and to dedicate himself to saving as many lives as possible. It dawned on him that perhaps enduring the pain of his guilt and striving to make amends through his actions was the true path to redemption. Embracing the agony gnawing at his insides, he resolved to keep on living, recognizing that enduring such anguish was an integral part of atoning for his sins.
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After hours of pouring out his grief, the grand paladin mustered the strength to once again cover the wizard's face with the mask, tenderly returning him to anonymity. Carrying the body to Tormentaheim's graveyard, he realized with a pang that he never even knew the wizard's name. Unable to assign a title beyond a heartfelt epitaph, he inscribed the tombstone with the words, "Here lies a wise and kind wizard, whose magic touched many lives."
Standing before the newly marked grave, dressed in plain attire and clutching a bouquet of flowers, the grand paladin knelt, his tears flowing freely. Placing the flowers at the foot of the tombstone, he bowed his head in reverence. "Don't worry, kind wizard," he whispered through his sobs. "I will honor my promise, not only for my past transgressions but also for you. May your journey to the other side be peaceful and serene."
With a heavy heart, Reginald turned away from the grave, seeking solace in sustenance. Neglecting his own needs in the days spent arranging the wizard's burial, he settled at a nearby food stall, his hood drawn up to conceal his features. Despite his imposing stature drawing some attention, the anonymity afforded by the hood offered a semblance of privacy amidst the bustling crowd. As he was eating, he heard a conversation from behind him.
"Hey, have you heard? It's been over a week now since the last sighting of the pope of the Holy Empire."
"Really? I heard rumors that the pope actually perished during the war of the gods eight days ago! And not just him, but the grand paladin and even that mysterious wizard might have met their end as well. I mean, come on, you remember the sheer magnitude of that explosion, right? Who could possibly survive something like that?"
Sounds of agreement rippled around the table, acknowledging the devastating power unleashed during the conflict.
"True. But, with all those level 3 powerhouses gone, it's a major shift. The only one left would be the great warrior from the south. I'm worried he might follow in the Holy Empire's footsteps, attempting to unify the continent through force.”
”Yeah, I've heard rumors that the border conflicts between the southern tribal kingdoms alliance and the Holy Empire are escalating. It seems the great warrior is testing the waters, waiting to confirm whether the pope and the grand paladin are truly gone. If he confirms their demise, it won't be long before the southern alliance declares an all-out war on the Holy Empire. And once that happens, it's only a matter of time before the Fulminar Empire is dragged into the fray."
The weight of their words hung heavily in the air, casting a pall over the conversation. Each person at the table understood all too well the horrors that war brought upon the common people. The prospect of another conflict loomed ominously, threatening to unleash untold suffering once more.
Hearing the unsettling news from behind him, Reginald, the grand paladin, froze mid-bite. "A war? No, I can't allow it. War means countless lives lost. Perhaps this is my chance for redemption. I must take control of the Holy Empire. And if what they say is true, that the Pope perished in the explosion…" His thoughts trailed off, pondering the identity of the powerful allies the wizard mentioned. "Who were those friends the wizard spoke of? To create such devastation, they must be far stronger than mere level 3 beings. But it doesn't matter. I have no intention of provoking the Fulminar Empire. Once I'm in charge, I'll focus on aiding those in need."
With his meal finished, Reginald slipped away to a deserted alley, flying to the sky and streaking off as a golden light, determined to seize control and forge a path of redemption.
*** Zack POV ***
Right after the fireworks of the project, which is basically an apocalyptic explosion, and after he bailed from the grand paladin, Zack's consciousness returned to his main body in the tower. He was just chilling, with his head laying on Fannie’s lap. He was thinking, 'Man, this is comfy as heck.' he took a breath of the fragrance from Fannie’s body.
Taking it easy after such a wild battle made him feel like catching some sleep. Even though he had a bunch of stuff to sort out after the showdown, like rounding up the clones, he really wasn’t feeling up to doing anything right now.
Fannie, picking up on the vibe, asked Zack, “Is the fight over, teacher?”
Zack just gave a little hum in reply. Then, he felt Fannie’s hand gently stroking his hair, sending waves of relaxation through him. Zack let out a satisfied sigh, thinking about his clone situation once again.
Four clones were toast, confirmed destroyed. One got blasted by the pope’s attack, while the other three went out in a blaze of glory, causing that massive explosion. The fifth clone, the one holding down the fort with the city barrier, was still intact. Sure, Zack had some minor internal injuries from pushing himself to cast that massive spell, but they were all healed up now. However, the mana tank inside the clone was running on empty.
The clone that went toe-to-toe with the grand paladin was pretty much a goner. It was beyond repair, especially with one limb missing. So, Zack was calling it quits on that one. As for the deceased clones, he wasn’t planning on recycling their identities to cover his tracks. Better to keep it legit, just in case someone recognized one of the clones from before. Zack wasn’t about to take any chances.
So, that meant the identity Lucius was officially toast. Lucius was the name of the clone who duked it out with the grand paladin. Zack let out a sigh. He didn’t really give a hoot about the other four clones that went kaboom, but Lucius? Well, he had some feelings for that identity. It had been with him since he first got the [Thousand Faces] ability. ‘Rest in peace, Lucius. Your sacrifice won’t be forgotten,’ Zack mused.
Now, he had to haul the other 95 clones back to the tower. Just thinking about it made Zack cringe. ‘Ugh, what a pain in the butt. Should I just leave 'em out there? They could be handy as a backup, right? If I need to handle something outside, I won’t have to go through the hassle of summoning a clone from inside the tower.’ Yep, that sounded like a plan.
So, Zack convinced himself to leave the rest of the clones outside as a backup plan, aka he was just being a lazy bum. ‘Alright, one thing sorted. Now, about the mess I caused…’ Zack closed his eyes and split his consciousness to his fifth clone, the one chilling inside the Tormentaheim city.
When the clone opened its eyes, it found itself in the middle of a heap of trash. Zack was utterly shocked. ‘What the heck?!’ he exclaimed.