"I have seen humanity die a hundred times.

It is only by our hand that your kind survives."

Faf Nekrok - The Third Immortal Monarch

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Over the years many people had asked Badar why he choose to stick to the scouting role for so long. To most, it was nothing more than a gateway to joining the Guardians Guild. A means to get a foot in the door before moving on to a better path. It was simply too dangerous and paid too little.

Badar didn’t see it that way. To him, the work was easy, if only you were willing to stick it out and cross that critical threshold from beginner to novice. Pay wasn’t so bad either, when you considered the relative ease of climbing the ranks. That, and the lower cost of acquiring new spells; reconnaissance spells simply weren't prized as highly, or guarded as closely, as their combat counterparts.

He could rank up any time he wanted; he had the knowledge, the skills, the equipment, and the reputation, but to him, Heron-Class was the perfect balance of income and safety. Indeed, Badar had become quite comfortable, he could probably even hold his own in a frontline combat role at his rank.

Right now though? He felt anything but comfortable.

Like an ant in the shadow of a mountain, he could sense the looming presence of something far beyond his grasp. The memory of that wave of power washing over them kept replaying in his mind; ceaselessly, over, and over, and over again. A tide of invisible dread that buried him, suffocating him beneath its unfathomable power.

Badar stopped. He shivered. To him, ambient mana was immutable, his own spells nothing but a drop of water in the ocean. But to move the ambient mana to such an extent that even he could feel it? It was ridiculous. Such a draw on power was only something to be found at Nishina-Class or higher, something which rivaled, or even eclipsed, the power of the Immortal Monarchs. For the first time in his life, he felt truly powerless.

"Any idea what it is?" Alicia asked.

Badar flinched, almost ready to attack. The air around Alicia crackled with energy. Incomplete spell circles flickered in and out of existence before her, sometimes even given enough structure to begin manifesting, before being swiftly disassembled.

His hands grew clammy. Alicia was a quick-caster, and yet, he'd never once seen any signs of her misfiring. Until now.

“I have no idea." He answered. "Whatever it is though, it must be related to why the jungle is so quiet. Right?”

“I hope so. Better we have one problem to deal with rather than two.” Alicia answered. "Do you think it's dangerous?"

The two of them looked at each other silently.

"No." He gave an answer neither of them believed. "If whoever was responsible wanted us dead, I'm sure they could have easily killed us by now."

So he said, though the truth was they didn't have the slightest idea of what they were dealing with here. There were plenty of entities that had monstrous power but horrible perception. His words were only meant as a small comfort, and not of any sound reasoning.

In contrast to what he said, their actions only grew more cautious the closer they approached the source of the disturbance.

The underbrush of the jungle floor was horribly thick; a dense entanglement of vines, thorns, bushes, and fallen branches. When the day had started, they made quick and violent work of the vegetation with their machetes, carving out a path at speed. But now, their progress had slowed to a crawl. Their hastened steps were now slow and deliberate; careful to avoid snagging on loose vines, cautious to not snap any twigs underfoot. A rather peculiar measure, given all the noise they were making in hushed conversation and the steady rhythm of Alicia's misfired spells.

As they grew closer, they felt a new sensation, a vacuum of power that siphoned away at the ambient mana. The feeling rapidly grew so strong, that it almost felt as if it were physically pulling them forward.

All the way Badar cycled between every detection spell and enchantment at his disposal. Everything from simple enhancements to his senses, to methods of identifying the exact spells which were used in an area.

“Signs of combat up ahead. Astral remnants.” He whispered. “Looks like Jacobian-Class. Several days old now.”

“Anything you can gather on what family of spells were used?” Alicia asked.

Badar shook his head. “Hardly. I can make out a few specific here and there, but mostly it’s indiscernible to me. Their patterns are completely different from anything I’ve seen before.”

"Maybe it's a different astricon?" Alicia mumbled.

“What’s that?” Badar asked.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“An astricon? It’s the foundation that magic is built upon. Don't tell me you don't know about astricons?"

"I'm afraid not. Was this something you learned at that fancy noble school?"

Alicia frowned. "It's astounding how far you've managed in magic without the slightest grasp of the fundamentals. But no time for that now. We should keep moving."

Badar stayed put. "I've got a bad feeling Alicia. Maybe we should just leave and report this to the guild."

Alicia continued past him. He wasn't surprised, unlike him, she followed the path of a Guardian for power and prestige. Whatever the risks; the possibilities of what she could learn, what power she might acquire; it was a potent temptation that wouldn't be easily dismissed from her mind. There was a common philosophy amongst Guardian's that the path to immortality was only opened by rare and risky opportunities, and Badar believed Alicia was of the same mind.

“It’s an unnecessary risk Alicia.” He pleaded to her.

“You go back then. You won’t need my help, there’s no monsters to stop you.”

For a moment he considered it, but shook the thought from his head. “At least tell me what you’re thinking. I'd like to at least know what we're taking such a big risk for.”

"Fine. Remember what I said about astricons earlier?"

"About how they're the building blocks of magic? I don't really understand, I've never heard of them before."

"I suppose you haven't because you've only ever used one your whole life. Basically, they're a language of magic. Except…well it’s more than that. Take a simple fireball spell. When it's cast, what exactly is happening? What is the flame actually made of? What is it burning? How does the mana interact with the world to create that phenomenon? An astricon defines all that, all the caster does is point it in a direction. Maybe tweaking it a bit to go faster or burn hotter but that's it. Minor variations.

"The magic you and I use, the magic most of the known world uses, it's all built on the Central Astricon. It's versatile, that's its strength, but it's not very powerful."

"So it's a tradeoff between versatility and strength then? Are all the other astricons less versatile, but more powerful?"

"Well, that's what's believed broadly speaking, but in truth, nobody really knows about their inner workings."

"Nobody? How could that be? Surely the Immortal Monarchs know more? It's not as if every single one of them is a recluse."

"Oh, they most definitely do know more, in fact, it's well known that some have even created their own astricons. But whatever their knowledge is, they're stingy about sharing it, and they're always looking for more."

"So you're after what here exactly? Learning another astricon?"

"I'm after anything at all related to them. There are few things in this world worth as much as knowledge on another astricon."

"They're that valuable?"

Alicia nodded. "There's a chance you could retire tomorrow if we found so much as a drop of blood from one of their practitioners. As I said before, this is the type of thing that has potential to get attention from even an Immortal Monarch."

"You know me too well." Badar sighed. She had a point. He was itching to retire. Time was relentless, and he was getting older. Perhaps it was time he took a big risk. If things went on like this then would his retirement even be worth having? Too old and decrepit for any of a young man's fun? Besides, an opportunity like this may never come again, and Alicia was likely the best suited person to go on such a mission with.

“Fine." He said to her. "We go forward. I'll take point. It isn't much farther now to the clearing I saw from above the canopy. And I can sense something at its center, I think it's human."

Alicia nodded and the two of them proceeded. As they went it only became more and more obvious that something big had happened.

The scars of battle were sporadic; the charred forest floor drawing the path of a high velocity engagement, mixed in with heavy blows which formed craters and dug ditches into the earth.

“Looks like a slayer fight.” Alicia commented as she stared at the trunk of redwood, with bark as tough as steel, snapped like a toothpick.

Badar was inclined to agree, he could practically see the arc of quarter-ton swords carved into the landscape.

At the center of it all the land was completely transformed. Not a single piece of vegetation remained, it was all turned to ash. Sunlight poured in from the hole in the canopy overhead. At the edges of the destruction, shards of shattered redwoods were found everywhere, sometimes embedded half a foot deep in another tree.

Only a single living thing remained, though to call it living might be a stretch. It was a lone human figure, standing, buried in the dirt beneath its waist, disfigured so much it was impossible to tell their age or gender. They were hunched forward, limp, unmoving, but Badar was certain they were still alive. His spell Detect Life told him as much. In fact, he could see their vitality rapidly rising.

“What the fuck?” Alicia muttered.

Badar thought much the same. Here was a person that shouldn’t be alive, half their skull was sheared off, and what remained was badly mangled. Only a minor chunk of their brain remained in their skull, and it was badly mixed with grim and dirt. There were some injuries that even the most potent healing magic was beyond saving, brain injuries being the most notable case. Even if a person could recover from such a state, magic could do nothing to bring back their memories.

Slowly, Badar approached, machete at the ready, cautiously analyzing the situation. What could cause something like this? Naturally, necromancy was at the forefront of his mind, after all, what else could it possibly be?

Then again, there were inconsistencies. Anything reanimated by necromancy did not breathe, had no heartbeat, and could not heal. They were temporary puppets wrought with death and decay; an effect achieved by burning away the lingering mana of the recently deceased. He'd seen it before, and it left behind distinctive astral remnants, but right now he didn't see anything of the sort.

But what were the other possibilities then? A lifesaving treasure? A god-like healing factor? Or maybe they were one of the Immortal Monarchs? Any answer he could think of was ridiculous, but then again, so was the situation. There was only one thing for certain, and that was that this was no ordinary person.