13

“You used your spirit to anchor me to my own body? How is that possible?” Oliver asked, astounded.

“When it comes to sealing magic, I am unrivaled. Only impossible circumstances can overcome one of my seals. I am the seal that holds you to your body. We are inextricably linked, you and me. My body died long ago, and though it was preserved perfectly by Du Varia for my service to her, I can no longer return there as a living being. But the spirit never dies. My abilities transcend a corporeal form. I could wonder the world for a million years before allowing my spirit to pass on if that’s what I wished. To hold another’s soul and body together is not impossible for me.”

Oliver was speechless. For someone else to hold his own life together was not only a great sacrifice on their part, but also a task of such magnitude, he couldn’t imagine trying it himself. Despite her cocky words, Oliver knew that Angli had to do something very complicated and taxing to save his life in the way she did. Her soul had dimmed considerably by the time he woke. She was a husk of her former power. Luckily, the Wellspring seemed to have replenished her spirit when he unlocked it. She was now brimming with as much power as he was, maybe more.

“So, what happens now?” Oliver asked.

“Now, I train you in the real ways of our family, and then we stop Ro.”

Thinking of everything that had happened in his brief exchange with Ro, Oliver remembered a peculiar detail.

“He called you a traitor. What did he mean by that?”

Angli was silent. She didn’t speak until Oliver prompted her again.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she said simply. Then she refused to approach the topic again.

Oliver knew she had some hard feelings on the issue, so he didn’t pursue it. He knew there was no way to force information out of someone like Angli. In any event, she didn’t owe him an explanation, so questioning her would be pointless.

“We have to go,” Angli said, snapping Oliver out of his thoughts.

“Where do we go?”

“We need to recover the sheath for the Holy Sword. Without it, you can’t hope to master its use.”

“It has a sheath?”

“Of course, every blade has a sheath. Without it, you can hardly consider it a complete weapon.”

“Where is it?”

“Not far. But we need to get there now. The Holy sword is too full of power. It needs to be sheathed to stop it from discharging. The full power of a True Wellspring is inside of it. The sword absorbs energy just as we do, only much more of it.”

“Okay, lead the way,” Oliver said.

“Wait,” Angli said, “first you must grab Illari.”

“What’s that?”

“Illari is the Caretaker of Du Varia,” Angli said casually, as if she was talking about nothing important. Still, Oliver could hear the reverence she used when speaking the name.

“Are you talking about this necklace?” Oliver asked, remembering the statue around Angli’s neck. It still looked to be staring back at him and he realized that there was probably powerful magic in the artifact.

“Yes, we will need her. She will help you more than you know. I’ll explain more about her later but for now we must hurry.”

“Okay, let’s go then.” Oliver said, heading for the stairs.

They walked up the solemn path in silence. The torches that had been used to light the way were all extinguished, snuffed out probably when Ro had destroyed the leech barrier that Angli had used to fuel the spell. Oliver had very good night vision, but he still needed light to amplify his eyes. Here there was none. This wouldn’t have been a problem under normal circumstances, but the stairs he had to climb were as tall or taller than he was until he got several hundred feet up the passageway.

“Too bad the torches went out,” he said to himself.

“No problem,” Angli replied. The torches immediately began to relight themselves all along the passage.

“How did you do that?”

“My spells carry my magical ability. One of those abilities is called Eternity. Any spell I cast, even if it’s broken, can easily be rekindled simply by pumping my energy into the dormant spell.”

“That’s amazing. How many skills do you have?” Oliver was never any less amazed by the things she told him.

“A few. Come, we have little time to talk,” Angli spoke like she was walking ahead of him, and he was dragging behind. If she hadn’t been inside his own body, he might have thought she was going to leave him.

Oliver started climbing the massive stairs as best he could, taking care not to slip. Any fall from those tall stairs would be unfortunate. He made good progress. In fact, it wasn’t long before he discovered that climbing a ledge as tall as him wasn’t an issue for him now. He almost jumped up each ledge. His body was fit, more in shape than he had ever been in fact. He felt like he was overflowing with energy. The stairs started to melt behind him like he was ascending a normal staircase. He hopped each ledge with precision, making sure to adjust his stance with each new step before the next leap. He was as graceful as a cat.

Soon the stairs began to shorten a little, and every new leap became less of a leap and more of a climb. In what seemed like no time at all, Oliver was standing in the doorway of the statue. It had been blown open, so it sat exposed.

“Here we are,” Angli said when he emerged from the statue.

14

“Here?” Oliver asked, not understanding.

“Where else would I place the sheath except with myself? One can only really trust themselves in this world. Remember that kid.”

“So, wait, you mean your statue houses the sheathe?”

“I needed a stable storage device for the sealing spell I cast on the chamber. What better source than the Holy Sheath? It can harness the divine energy of Du Varia, so containing the energy for my seal was a simple task.”

“You really are the most incredible Albrine in history. Even now, centuries after your glory you’ve performed acts no mortal mind could fathom.”

“Quickly,” she said, not acknowledging his boot licking, “use the sword, stab it into the top of the statue.”

Oliver could hear the urgency of her command and he knew he needed to hurry, or things would get messy. He quickly realized upon approaching the statue that the blade of the holy sword was growing unstable. The handle was getting hotter by the second, and the blade shone with intensity.

“The holy sword was never meant to be the house for this much energy. It’s only the channel for the energy. If it continues to house this much power, irreparable damages will be done to its integrity.”

Oliver understood. Usually, energy would pass from the absorb half to the seal half and from there move seamlessly into the sheath where energy was safely contained. Only this time that hadn’t happened. A massive amount of pure energy from a True Wellspring was now bursting from the seams of the Holy sword.

Normally, according to Angli, he could just release the energy from the point of the blade in an attack. But with so much power wishing to come out all at the same time, there was no telling the damage it would do if he did that. He could even destroy himself in the process. He had no choice but to hurry to the statue.

As he hopped and leapt from different crevices, using stone folds of Angli’s robes as footholds to make his way to her head, there was a sudden noise coming from the halls of the manor. Oliver paid it no mind, as his attention was hyper focused on his task.

When he had reached the shoulder of the statue however, his eyes caught sight of a creature fast approaching the statue. It was a small red creature. It ran on two legs and had little horns on its head and a barbed tail. It carried a stick in one hand and cradled a worn book in its other.

“What the hell is that thing?” Oliver asked.

“Oh shit. This isn’t good. Hurry up! Stab my head!”

Oliver didn’t know why she was so scared, given the miniscule size of the creature, but again, her urgency stopped him from arguing. He took a mighty leap and found himself on the head of the statue. With no hesitation he flipped the Holy sword around and thrust it into the top of the statue. As soon as he did, a golden light overtook the blade, causing it to sink into the statue all the way to the hilt.

The whole statue glowed with that golden light and Oliver could see the whole thing start to melt beneath his feet. Seeing that this process was going to take a minute, Oliver decided it was a good opportunity to seek answers.

“Angli, what is that thing? Why are you so afraid?”

“That’s an Imp. It may not look like much, but they are the summoners of the demon race.”

“That thing is a demon? I thought the angels and demons were banished from our plane.”

“Yes. But unlike most demons, Imps were born long ago from creatures corrupted by demonic energy. They carry the genes of demons, but Du Varia doesn’t include them in the banishment, due to their complex composition. The real problem is that Imps can quickly outnumber their enemies.”

“How do they do that?”

“Imps use their magic to open portals with which they can temporarily summon other demons. This imp looks like he can’t be more than a second-tier caster, but he still poses a grand threat to us. Until the sword is finished assimilating with the sheath, we are basically defenseless.”

“How is that possible?”

“We don’t have time to talk, you have to move now.”

“What should I do?” Oliver asked.

“You must kill it before it can finish its ritual. If a higher demon is summoned here, we will be in a bad spot.”

“Got it,” Oliver said, leaping from the statue and sprinting for the little demon.

It had already stopped running by that point, opening its book and speaking harsh guttural noises as it twirled its black stick over its head, dancing around in a circle in a savage series of movements that struck fear into Oliver. It was almost enough to stop his approach. But Oliver knew he had to press on. What came after that ritualistic dance would undoubtedly be far worse.

Oliver used Lunge to make a single step take him several feet toward his target. It was his favorite spell to use because it often got the drop on his enemies. It was hard to react when a kick suddenly appeared in your face. Oliver quickly reached the little red creature and immediately threw a kick at its feeble body. It was only around three feet tall, so Oliver’s kick should have taken it in the head, sending it sprawling.

But when his kick came near the little demon, it amazingly dipped backward without interrupting its dance or Incantation. Oliver’s kick flew straight overhead, missing the little thing by inches.

Oliver was shocked. He had not expected the little creature to be so agile or capable. He threw a series of attacks at it, but none were able to disrupt it in the slightest. It was very fit, very nimble. It predicted all his movements before he made them, making it seem like it was guiding him where it wanted him to be instead of simply avoiding his attacks.

When Oliver noticed this, he fell back. He didn’t like thinking someone else was controlling what he did. He watched the little imp hop around and spit its rough language from its mouth with a mocking look on its face.

“They have excellent evasive capabilities. Otherwise, they would all be killed before they were able to finish casting.”

“What can I do?”

“They have a seventh sense for physical attacks. Their weakness lies in their inability to sense magical attacks in the same way.”

“My command spells aren’t offensive. There are some incantations that have destructive power, but they would take too long and plus…” Oliver cut himself off before he could continue. He finished with a new thought a moment later.

“My only means of attack was using my sword, so what am I supposed to do?”

“You received a true blessing. In addition to that, you’re an Albrine. You’ve always had half of the Holy Sword as a means of channeling your magic, so you have never tapped into your inherent abilities. You need to focus. There are many gifts within you that you’ve always ignored. You will find many spells that were once only incantations fed to your mind by Du Varia are now fully discovered Commands. The expansion of your mind is much more than you can comprehend. You must discover what you can do for yourself, but I suggest you hurry.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Now that you have been truly Blessed, you have many options that most people do not. For starters, you can now cast Command spells with a thought, instead of speaking your will into existence. Incantations are done differently, but again, we do not have time to go over it right now. What you need to know is that you already have access to the mental aspect of your blessing. Look inside your mind, you will see much more than ever before.”

Oliver didn’t know what he was supposed to do to tap into his power, but he knew he needed to do it without delay. The pressure was immense, but luckily, Angli was right. He was an Albrine. He did have the potential of his great lineage.

Before, when he wanted to attack with his magic, he had always swung his sword in a slash and his energy had simply leaked out. He never had to consider it further than that. But now, facing eminent death, he had no choice but to look within himself to sense his own inherent abilities. And the results surprised him.

In the deepest recesses of his mind were a series of lights. He could see at least a dozen new colored reservoirs there. Oliver could also see the spells he already knew, they all varied in color, but were clearly labeled by his subconscious. Behind those were a series of masses which looked to have their own lights, but they seemed to be locked behind a wall within his mind. He could approach only so far before strong forces repelled him. He could only get a basic sense of their aura, nothing that he could draw any conclusions from.

He knew from experience that those were his gifted Incantations. If he focused hard on the nearest ones, he might be able to glean the arcane wording to unleash the spell. Until he understood the spells fully, he would be unable to cast them as Commands. Some Incantations would remain beyond even his slow casting until his mind understood their nature enough to decipher their intent.

There were numerous locked spells of many different hues. There were blues and reds, undoubtedly water and fire magic respectively. There were yellow, purple and green lights as well.

One of them was a tangled mess of many colors. They all seemed to be twisting around each other in a never-ending dance. It was one of the abilities he remembered seeing upon receiving his newest blessing.

“You’re out of time! Cast something now!” Angli shouted in his mind.

She had been watching through his eyes throughout his introspection, and the imp had now formed a swirling black mass on the ground. It writhed in fury on the ground as it grew in size, growing from the diameter of a plate to the diameter of a shield in only a few seconds. The imp slammed its staff down on the vortex, even as Oliver chose to use the green hued Command he had seen in his mind. Like the perfect word he had been seeking for years, the arcane formula sprang to his mind and the spell flared to life.

15

As he raised his hand, a horrifying gust of wind blasted past him, heading right for the imp. An awful shrieking noise accompanied this, like the air itself was lamenting. The floor of the manor was ripped and cut in several places as the spell flashed toward the imp. As it did, Oliver felt an intense chill course through him.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

His knees trembled under his weight, and for a few seconds, his vision blurred. He recovered in time to see the damage his spell wrought. The spell tore into the flesh of the imp just as its staff connected with the black vortex.

It was blasted into a wall behind it and crumpled into a heap. Several cuts ravaged its petite form. Despite this, it didn’t appear to be dead, it had simply been hurt and stunned. It crawled slowly towards the black vortex just as it suddenly sprang up from the floor, forming a dark doorway in the air. The spell form for Lunge sprang to Oliver’s mind and he was only a second from casting.

Before Oliver could activate it, a black hand emerged from the vortex and a cold black orb coalesced in its palm. In an instant, the ball shot towards Oliver with unerring accuracy. Before he could even react, he felt his whole body roughly jerk to the floor. The orb sailed through the space he had just occupied and completely incinerated a section of the manor far behind him.

As the orb passed over him, Oliver felt an extremely odd sensation coming from it. It felt warm and welcoming. It wasn’t at all how he expected the energy to be. It was like it was calling him to touch it.

“Get back to the sword now!” Angli shouted in his head. She had used her will to force him to the ground in a fraction of a second, otherwise he would have become ash before he knew what had happened. Again, she proved that her skills far surpassed his even when she had no body.

He wasted no time listening to her words and made a quick retreat to the statue, which had almost entirely melted by this point. In place of it stood a small platform. On the platform was a sheathed sword. The sheath itself stuck into the platform as if the platform were a sheath for the sheath itself.

It was a black wooden sheath, but all along the length of it were golden symbols. They formed some ancient text which was spelled out in a language Oliver could not recognize. No mortal could hope to read such a text.

The edges of the hilt were also golden, giving the impression that the sheath was constantly bursting with unfathomable power. The more Oliver observed it, the more he thought that that may have been the case. There was no other object in existence capable of housing so much energy, but the Holy Sheath did so and made it look easy.

“Take it before that thing gets out or we will both be dead!” Angli said, with more urgency than he had heard thus far.

Oliver grabbed the sword, pulling the scabbard out along with it. It accepted his touch and hummed with great power in his hand. He put the sword on his left shoulder as he always did, and the sheath automatically began to attach itself to his back. A golden cord wrapped it around his sternum, fitting it to his back so seamlessly, he could barely tell it was there, despite its massive power.

He held the handle, ready to leap forward and attack before the demon fully emerged, but he quickly realized he was already too late. Standing before him was a seven-foot-tall black figure with leathery wings folded behind it. He expected to see horns rising from its head, but they were conspicuously absent. It still had a very sinister presence, and it wore a disdainful sneer as it looked upon Oliver. Its red eyes seemed almost amused at the figure in front of it.

Behind it, the little imp danced around happily, mocking Oliver with gestures and noises. It quickly hopped into the vortex it had summoned and slipped out of sight. The vortex quickly closed after its departure.

“Damnit. That little shit got away.”

“Yes, chances are we will see it again in the future. Imps aren’t known to forgive. If we survive this it will know. Imps maintain a connection with those they summon, so it will know the moment that energy flow is cut off. But for now, we have a much bigger issue at hand. That is a Strike Demon. It doesn’t look very high rank, but even a low-level Demon could spell the end of you if you aren’t careful. You need to retaliate now, before it attacks again.”

“I understand.” Oliver knew that he couldn’t rely on his own magic for this fight, otherwise Angli wouldn’t have insisted he retrieve the Holy sword first.

He drew the blade, feeling the great power it had now stabilized and quickly slashed it as hard as he could at the Demon in front of him. A thin ribbon of light darted through the air, covering the distance between them in a flash and assaulted the demon where it stood.

The black figure only raised a hand to intercept the attack. The beam crashed into his hand with fury and blasted him back a couple steps. His hand was smoking after that, and he looked genuinely surprised, as if he had never found a force that could affect him so. He looked at his hand, and a small cut bled a thin line. For all its power, the attack seemed no more than a long paper cut to the demon.

“That’s it?” Oliver couldn’t believe it. He had put all his effort into that slash, knowing how dire his situation was. Despite that, he had barely damaged the monster.

“You cannot hope to control the Holy Sword without instruction. You need more practice to draw out its true power,” Angli said.

Before the mental conversation could continue, the demon summoned another black orb in its hand. This one took a moment to grow before launching at Oliver with the speed of lightning. He reacted as fast as he could, swinging his sword to deflect the blast.

But when the two forces connected, Oliver was thrown back. He managed to deflect the attack, and it sailed off to his right and destroyed another section of the manor, which had already appeared to be in ruin from Ro’s passing. After contact with that horrible energy, Oliver careened like a pinwheel off to the side and was forcibly stopped by something firm behind him. It didn’t feel like the masonry of his mansion, but he had no idea what it could have been.

Looking back, he noticed a giant white ethereal hand sprouting from his back. It had placed itself against the wall, absorbing the impact which otherwise would have incapacitated him. Angli was so skilled and experienced, she repeatedly showed him the potential he hoped to one day reach. Without her, he would have died several times over by this point.

As he fell on the ground, Oliver noticed a thin sliver of energy from the demon’s attack trailing up the blade and into his arm. He again had the sense that he wanted the energy, and the energy wanted him. In less than a second it had all flowed into him. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Oliver didn’t experience any changes in his body or power. He hit the ground as though nothing had happened.

Before he could reorient himself, the black demon suddenly appeared in front of him. Its claws tore at him, aiming to rip his heart out. He barely had time to raise his sword to block. The attack sent him reeling to the side. He tumbled to the floor and rolled several times as the force of that attack unraveled. When he had finally come to a halt, he quickly scrambled to his feet. By the time he had reached a crouched position, the demon was already closing in.

He gained his footing just in time to intercept another strike, but this one was more of a punch. It came as an uppercut, hitting him right on the chin as Oliver had been oriented to block another sideways slash of the creature’s claws. When the uppercut connected, Oliver was again launched away, this time at the high ceiling.

Angli was again able to stop his flipping motion in a more cushioned manner than crashing into the sturdy marble ceiling. But just as his body came to a halt, the demon flapped its previously folded wings and appeared in his face. It grabbed him by the head, its claws perforating his skin in several places, and with a savage grin, it threw him straight back to the floor. It could have easily ripped his head off with such power, but it seemed to be toying with him.

When he hit the floor, even with Angli’s assistance, his body made a deep indent. The demon didn’t follow up, and it seemed to be testing if Oliver could handle more or if he had already died.

“Don’t move,” Angli said calmly in his head.

“If I don’t move it’ll kill me,” Oliver replied.

“It’s waiting for you to move so it can attack again. We don’t have long. It will eventually come to see if you’re dead but in the meantime, I need you to surrender your body to me.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t just give up my body!”

“Not to anyone else you can’t, but I’m tied to your spirit closely. I’m also tied to your body closely as the link between the two. I need you to relax, as losing your mind right now could cause us both to become untethered to your body. I need you to trust me.”

“Okay well that big asshole up there is starting to twitch. It won’t take long for him to get bored I think so you had better hurry.”

“Don’t worry, just stay calm and I will take care of the rest.” Angli said.

Without waiting for a response, she started working. Oliver could feel her pull his spirit deep within his mind. He could see the world around him become very narrow, as if he was looking at the world through a lens. His field of vision narrowed until he could only see the parts of the world his pupils directly looked at; his peripheral vision became nonexistent.

Further and further within his mind did she pull him until he could no longer sense the connection with his body. He started to worry before he heard the soothing voice tell him to relax again. He took a deep breath. This was obviously the sensation Angli had warned him to embrace. He trusted her, so he forced his mind to calm and simply become an observer of his own body.

As the process continued, Oliver felt Angli grow more prominent in his mind until it felt as if they had switched positions. He felt what she must feel as she was contained within him. It was a very odd sensation not to have a body and it reminded him of the time he spent in the vast black expanse after Ro had attacked his spirit. When the process was complete, Oliver could see everything clearly again, only he seemed to be viewing things through a giant window rather than his own eyes.

The demon had grown bored and thus it readied its wings to bring it before Oliver. Angli stood up from the hole and put the Holy sword back in its sheath as she rolled her neck and shoulders, seemingly unused to inhabiting flesh after so long incorporeal.

The Strike Demon noticed this and looked happy to have the chance to play some more. It quickly summoned a black orb and launched it towards Oliver. Angli had much better reflexes than Oliver, and on top of that she had a much better grasp of the power of the Holy sword.

In a flash, the sword was drawn again and slashed at the orb approaching it. When Oliver had attempted to deflect the orb, it had overpowered him. He couldn’t match the force of the impact. But Angli was a different matter entirely.

When the Holy sword struck the orb, the entire orb was split in half, both halves flew down on either side of her. The floor was annihilated and would have caused Angli to fall through had she not jumped the instant she connected with the orb. She was a master, known as the greatest bane of evil in Albrine history. She moved with such certainty; Oliver couldn’t tell how she knew so quickly what to do. In his vision, it was a high-speed fight he could barely even follow. Without the reflexes Angli displayed, they would both be dead.

After jumping in the air, she quickly met the demon halfway between the floor and ceiling as he also approached. It swung a taloned hand towards her and this time, a terrible energy came with them. Angli met the terrible force head on, and her glowing sword tore into the hand of the demon, cutting right through three of the fingers and continuing to carve a deep gash in its chest.

The face of the demon grew startled, clearly not knowing how the opponent that could barely harm it before grew so powerful suddenly. The force of the attack had launched it back this time, a small dose of revenge for the punishment it had dished out previously.

It crashed into the ceiling and cratered inside of it. Dust and marble chips flew down in a shower. Oliver was dumbfounded. He had never witnessed anything as powerful as the Demon, and Angli sent it flying like a rag doll as simply as he might toss a dinner roll into the air.

The creature wasn’t dead, and it roared with a fury Oliver had never seen before as it launched itself from the crater of the ceiling. It was missing a hand and it dripped heavy drops of black blood from there and the large gash in its chest. It seemed to be losing energy, but its life force burned with greater intensity as its black aura spread from its body. It was coming quickly for Angli, who lacked the ability to fly.

She had fallen back to the floor after her strike. She quickly sheathed the Holy sword. She stood still on the edge of the hole that had been made by the demon’s last attack, not moving an inch as it approached.

Oliver could feel through her that she was drawing a great power from the sheath. Before she had simply pulled the sword; using no more power than the sword regularly brought from the sheath with it. But this time she used her own power to summon forth the energy of the Wellspring within the sheath. The sword began to hum with power as she waited passively for her approaching foe.

When the demon was almost upon them, its one good arm manifested a sleek black blade, Angli expertly pulled the blade from its sheath. The demon was ready for this, so his blade was perfectly on course to intercept hers. But in the next second, his eyes grew wide with shock and fear.

The blade Angli pulled didn’t seem to really exist. What she pulled instead was simply a handle. It had no visible blade attached to it, but when his black blade passed through the area the blade ought to have occupied, a translucent blade made contact with the magical black blade.

Oliver recognized the hilt he had carried for so long, and he realized that she had unsheathed Reina rather than the physical counterpart Reana. Instead of sparks, the black blade simply became stuck on the clear blade. Then a pulling sensation tugged at the blade in the demon’s hand.

Before the demon knew what was happening, his weapon was being absorbed into the clear blade. It shone with demonic light as it resisted the pull of Reina. In the end though, the result was absolute. When it had been fully absorbed, Angli fluently sheathed her blade and redrew it, this time pulling steel from its scabbard. The blade cut the dumbfounded demon straight in half before it even had the chance to piece together what happened.

It fell to the ground, melting into little more than sludge and ash. Where its body fell, the floor begun melting as if the remains were corrosive. Angli quickly surrendered control of his body and Oliver almost fell to the ground as he was suddenly the sole operator of his nervous system again.

16

“You’re amazing!” Oliver said as he took a deep breath. He marveled at his regained ability to feel oxygen coursing through him again.

“I am out of practice, and using another body is extremely taxing. We’re lucky he wasn’t able to sense power, or he would have taken you more seriously from the start.”

“Please,” Oliver said, “teach me. I need to learn how to use the Holy sword as well as you.”

“I will teach you, but my spirit is tired. I have to rest first. You need to get us as far from here as possible. That imp was an unlucky foe to have run into. And all of the energy released is sure to have alerted others.” As she spoke, her voice grew distant, and Oliver could feel her entering the Sleep. Suddenly, his mind felt empty.

Oliver felt a tingle in his hand where it grasped the holy sword. Looking down he noticed the purple black energy of the absorbed demon sword was swirling around the hilt and his hand like a whirlpool. Again, before he knew what was happening, it was over. He snapped out of his daze quickly and began his escape.

First, Oliver went to his sleeping quarters to change out of the ripped and tattered remains of his clothes, and to get some last second provisions to sustain him. Mostly water, as he could forage for any food he needed. As he was changing, he caught sight of his bare chest in the mirror. He had to suppress a gasp at his appearance.

A small but undeniably serious scar sat purple and swollen in the center of his chest. Just seeing it caused an involuntary tremor to overtake Oliver for several seconds. He felt the icy-hot sting of the blade biting into his flesh.

With some effort, Oliver tore his gaze from his mutilated skin and got dressed in a travel robe which concealed his face well from the elements or other travelers when necessary. Suppressing his anger at the crumbling ruins of his ancestral home, Oliver moved toward the exit.

Oliver hastily made his way through the manor, which had been wrecked in several places. Ro had not been happy to see the wealth and prosperity of the Albrine. After emerging from the tunnel, he promptly began destroying things.

When Oliver reached the hall containing the legacy of his family, a room full of statues and scrolls containing their lives and accomplishments, the statue of Angli as well as her scroll had been demolished. Scraps of parchment were littered all over the place, and the statue itself was little more than rubble piled up under a large engraving which read:

Angli Albrine, Hero of Light

The engraving too had been defiled; a long scratch crossed out her name as if any indication of her existence had infuriated Ro. Oliver looked upon the scene with great sadness. His whole family history was here, and Ro seemed to have had a hissy fit and a great many scrolls and statues had been destroyed. But none were in such a state as Angli’s.

Oliver could sense within him that despite her slumber, Angli was aware of the destruction. He could sense great sorrow from her, but the source seemed to be different than his own sorrow. It seemed as if she was upset with herself rather than Ro. Whatever had happened back then, she was obviously still coping with it.

Oliver quickly left the hall and from there wound his way out of the manor. Every hallway, every room he passed by was defiled to a more or lesser degree. The passage of Ro took a toll upon the entirety of Albrine Manor.

Oliver was almost relieved to finally exit his home into the courtyard. The crisp night air brushed against his lungs, bringing him relief from the stale air of the manor. He breathed deeply or at least tried to.

A sharp pain pierced his chest as it inflated. Oliver gasped and fell into a fit of coughing. After several seconds of pained breathing, Oliver’s chest finally loosened, but he was left with a sense of unease. He shook the ordeal from his mind as he stepped out into the night.

On the outside, in the courtyard housing the Wellspring, there was only destruction. The well itself had been blasted apart. Only jagged stone remained. The surface spring had been entirely closed up. Despite its rough appearance however, it remained operational.

Oliver could feel the deep energy residing within it. It looked destroyed, but Oliver could feel that it would erupt again one day, far down the line.

Since being unlocked, it would undoubtedly take a few centuries to build enough power for a True Blessing after both Oliver and Angli’s replenishment, in addition to the power the Holy sword extracted from it. But that was okay. With no Albrine left to Bless, he supposed it would be okay if it never erupted again.

Ro had probably wanted to vent his frustration on the Wellspring for imprisoning him, but not even he could destroy the real Wellspring. He had probably been able to damage the stone badly enough to make the Wellspring stop functioning, but after the seal was released, the True Wellspring had self-repaired much of the damage. For as Angli had said, it was extremely difficult to permanently harm a True Wellspring.

Oliver didn’t stop as he passed by the Wellspring. There was something amiss in the forest. The twinge he often felt in his stomach notified him of the potential danger. Listening, he heard many creatures nearby, howling in the darkness.

He exited his family’s stronghold feeling more vulnerable than he had in a long time. His instincts told him there were several ominous presences in the vicinity. What was more, they all seemed to be focused on him. Oliver didn’t know why there were so many malevolent creatures around, considering his family’s reputation.

Even after his family declined, every creature still knew better than to test their luck by coming near his home. Now however, there were easily a dozen creatures lurking nearby. And to make matters worse, all of them had Corrupt spirits.

Oliver could sense the same type of energy the Strike Demon released in the bodies of every creature around him. He had never imagined that all of the Corrupt monsters he had ever encountered were synonymous with Demonic energy.

“Wait,” Angli said weakly from within his mind. He hadn’t even realized she was paying attention.

“What is it?”

“Our family have many secrets and legacies that I would rather not see go to the wrong hands. For them to be lost entirely would be even more of a tragedy,” Angli said as her power welled up within Oliver.

Oliver watched as a translucent golden light appeared all around the property of his family. It shimmered for a few moments and then disappeared. As it shimmered, Oliver could hear the cries of several suffering creatures as the power Angli cast forced them all away from the grounds.

“I thought you were out of energy?” Oliver asked.

“I am. But this spell was cast long ago. I put those protections in place during my own lifetime. It looks like the damage done by Ro expended the energy I put into maintaining them. I’m surprised they lasted that long. As you say, over a thousand years have passed since then, but luckily my magic never truly dies. Head north until you find the road and then move towards the mountain pass. I will guide you more accurately when I wake.” Angli didn’t wait for a response, she simply let herself drift back to slumber.

Oliver couldn’t help thinking her slumber wasn’t as complete as it appeared to be, given her ability to act and feel based on Oliver’s own senses. Still, he could feel the telltale traces of energy which he had come to relate to Sleep. He just wasn’t sure how she could remain aware of what he was doing while her mind and spirit were in slumber. Resolved to ask her about it later, he looked within himself to survey his mind and understand how much he had grown.

Once again, he noticed many different light sources which were available to him, and many more that he had no access to. These were the mental representations of his magic. His green wind power was shining brightest, and he noticed that he had subconsciously given it a label. It was automatically imagined with the title Shape Wind.

Growing up, everyone in his family had received a Blessing. Naturally, he had witnessed plenty of magic in his life. Spells of creation, destruction, illusion, he even watched a cousin turn themselves into a cabinet once to avoid running into someone.

But in every case, the person using magic had to speak their desire out loud, sometimes at great length depending on the type of spell it was. Oliver had simply selected the spell from his mind, and it had been cast. He had no idea if every spell would be so simple, but he had already discovered a major advantage of his increased Blessing.

Despite this, the toll each spell took was undiminished. He thought back to how his body had immediately grown colder and his hands had shook. What price might a stronger spell take from him?

Oliver was sure he needed to peruse his spell list in detail, but he was equally sure he needed to get away from the area. He placed his sword in its sheath and twisted its pommel half a turn. The blade hummed within the sheath as it filled with energy. Once it was full, it calmed down, though he could still feel the vast power of the Wellspring that was now at his disposal.

He learned this trick watching Angli use the sword. Her actions were much more effortless, and she was able to accelerate the process with her own energy, gaining full power in less than a second. Oliver didn’t know how to do that yet, but he had noticed the hilt’s ability to turn and the reaction it caused easily enough. Once he was fully charged, Oliver set off away from the home of his ancestors.