The sky rolls hurriedly, attempting to catch up with the clouds. However, no matter how hard it tries, it is bound to its confines. Bound to its natural order.
A stranger sways atop the trees as if an extension of them. He is a finely dressed gentleman, a suit befitting of his high status in this world. An older man, far older in appearance than Reginn. Bearded, bespectacled. Blending in with society. However, he knows he will never catch up with the humans, to truly walk at the same pace, no matter how hard he tries.
The only others who walk at the same speed are his siblings, though most of them disappeared among the eons.
He looks down from the oak tower and watches as one of his brothers returns to the world.
“See you soon, brother”
He merges into the tree, leaving behind a taller top overlooking the forest.
----------------------------------------
“Hm, this won’t take long”
Reginn prepared to quickly destroy the ambushers, gathering mana from his surroundings.
A small sphere of void began to form within his palms, the hero summoning multiple layers of Maginns to keep the event localized. Like a black hole, the mere gathering of mana pulled the ground, the trees and even wildlife toward the sphere, their mana drained. However, Sivrit was left untouched.
Hiding behind Reginn, she peeked above his shoulder to see the stranger’s spell. The explorer pondered what kind of a spell it was, and she always loved a good riddle. From the looks of it, it seemed like a matter-type spell, converting the mana particles into some kind of dark matter or perhaps just a high concentration of heavy matter… However, it could also be an energy-type spell, perhaps it converted mana into the force of gravity. It did not seem that pulling was not its main objective though, rather being a side-effect. Anyhow, this must’ve been one of the highest tiers of magic, similar to the spell variation from before. Perhaps tier 1 or 2…
“Hopefully this is a sufficient warm-up, ⌈A Glimpse of--”
A rush of leaves, a girl escaping from the bushes, or perhaps a boy. The androgeny symbolic of youth. They seemed to be similarly dressed with Sivrit, a resident of the present. In an elaborate warrior’s gear, they fashioned ivory white hair and blue eyes, their appearance almost divine. Even after they fell face-first into the coarse ground, their hair remained strangely sparkly.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Reginn clasped the spell within his palms, disintegrating it to nothingness. The mana that managed to escape returned to the environment, like a rush of air filling the empty abyss. The hero picked the fallen escapees by the back of their collar, only to realize what was chasing them in the first place.
The sound of the forest snapping and crunching echoed through the air, slowly getting louder and louder, closer and closer. Finally, Sivrit froze in place as the behemoth began ellipsing the view, its head held up high far above the group. The mountain wolves had already disappeared into the forest.
For Reginn, a positively foreign creature, one he had never seen before. However, just from the aura he knew its class:
“A World Beast?” said Reginn “What’s it doing outside its domain?”
The job of a World Beast was to protect an object, or the location of a group, usually never leaving their domain. Even Reginn left his for only the direst situations, preferring to battle at least within the boundaries of the nation. In truth, the entirety of Alsland was effectively an extension of his domain.
“Oh, uh, he’s asking you ‘Why is it out of its domain?’”
“I-I don’t know, I just woke up in a cave and it kept chasing me for no reason!” replied the stranger.
While the hero saw a grotesque creature, Sivrit only saw an oversized turtle, though one that rivalled the tallest of the trees. However, she thought it was strange how it made no sound as if stealthily moving to avoid any interference. Perhaps it was simply a part of its existence.
“What is your name, World Beast?” questioned Reginn
The beast was in a state of rage, unable to communicate, rampaging across the forest. While Sivrit and the silver-haired stranger shivered in fear, continuing to retreat in steps, Reginn was only frustrated that no one of this era understood the divine language. He did not expect any humans to understand it, but he had hoped at least the World Beast of the nations would. After all, they were similarly crafted by the Goddess.
The hero sighed as he prepared another spell. Remembering the flow and the mechanics from the previous information-type spell, he would try creating his own. He was confident in his ability as this was not his first time creating new spells.
A Maginn enveloped the turtle beast, as well as the hero. Exuded from the dirt a feint white-blue glow. Then, instead of a single ball of information entering the monster’s soul, a flowing river formed, flowing in both directions. For the sake of simplicity, he would call this the ⌈Sixth Path Stream⌋.
However, Reginn did not account for the fact that his target was a World Beast, a force of nature not so simply subdued. The stream simply annoyed the World Beast, enraging it further. The roar was powerful enough to clear the skies, revealing the endless blue. In this world, strength was everything. Reginn would need to tear the walls of resistance before he could reach the enraged monster’s mind.
“You leave me no choice,” said Reginn, “I suppose as your elder, I must impart you the proper conduct of a World Beast.”