"Or it could destroy us! This. This. This thing you've made. This machine. You have no idea what course it will decide. What if it decides humankind has run its course?"
Gronardul Osqulo - Grand Inquisitor of the Praeseon Empire
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"What did you do? How did you do that?" Alicia asked, shaking Roland from his stupor.
Roland cleared his throat. "Unhand me women! You are speaking to a king!” His voice was hoarse, and his words were full of air, as though his vocal cords were hanging by a thread. They probably were. Even if Alicia gave him a numbness pill, the feeling was still extremely uncomfortable.
His voice lacked any regal authority, something painfully obvious even to Roland. It was immature, lacking the usual suave he was accustomed to.
Unexpectedly Alicia bowed anyway. Immediately.
Roland didn’t know how to react. Even back on earth his peasants would never do something like this. That was only to be expected though, their minds lacked reason. But here was the first rational person Roland had met in years!
As for Alicia. It was natural for her to believe his claim. From the vast power thrumming through the air, to the signs of other astricons, to the way he recovered from death so easily, to how he shaped her spell to his will.There was simply no reason to doubt him.
Even his young appearance only served to reinforce her thoughts. Eternal youth was a well-known side effect of vast astral power.
As much as this royal treatment pleased Roland, another part of him was equally displeased. The part of him drowning in the lonely sorrow of not speaking with anyone for many years.
This feeling stoked a war within his mind, with two sides equally opposed in strength and conviction. How many years had he yearned for this respect he was now finally given? Now was the time to bask in it! To let the world recognize him in all his glory.
An empty admiration. The other voice said with disgust. How many truly admired their leaders? Did he? Certainly not. The reverence she showed wasn’t genuine. It couldn’t be. She didn’t know him. It was simply the hand she’d been dealt, where she had no other choice besides to face his wrath.
Roland could still remember the political landscape from before the apocalypse. Washington was a liar’s den of corruption. Did he want to be acknowledged as one of them? A politician?
No. In the past he was a King. The only King. He had no peers to stain his reputation. Now things were different. He knew the political landscape of this world was no better than his last, in fact it was worse.
With that, his course was set. The voice of reason won. The halls of his mind and soul shifted. A piece of his fragmented mind clicked, and locked into place. He didn’t want to be the same king as he was in the past; an organ of the state. He wanted to be a king in the same way as Elvis Presley was. He wanted to be a king of his craft. No ceremonies, or politics, or pointless formalities.
He was the creator of this apocalyptic world. A fortunate fact, for he would bare the same title. Though now it had new meaning.
Roland cleared his throat. "Um. Excuse me, I lost myself for a moment there. My name is Roland." He said, reaching out to shake her hand. “King of the Apocalypse.”
The woman remained bowed.
“What is your name?” He asked.
"Alicia."
”Alicia.” He repeated. “That’s a nice name.”
A silence hung in the air between them.
“You may stand.” Roland said. “I’m not one for formalities. You must excuse my earlier outburst. I hope you understand that dying can be quite irritating.”
Alicia hesitantly stood up. “May I ask a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“What does your title mean? King of the Apocalypse?”
“What it means? Well, put simply, I know more about the apocalyptic threats that plague humanity than anybody else.”
“You know how to stop them then?”
“Well…yes and no. But that’s too complicated a topic to discuss with you here.”
“May I ask something else?”
“First let me ask you something. What happened here? What killed me?”
“I was hoping you could answer that same question.”
“I see. Well, no use dwelling on it, what was your question?”
“How did you change my spell like that?” Alicia asked.
Roland sighed. He couldn’t answer that question truthfully. If he did, and word got out, then he would become a person of interest to powers he really did not wish to meet. Perhaps one day he would have the strength to boldly stand against them. But not yet.
So, he lied.
“I have the power to transmute nearby spells for a short period of time. Even ones not of my own making.”
“I see. Why did you want to transmute whispering glow?”
“My death occurred in part because of a transmutation gone wrong. Naturally I wanted to check if the unexpected behavior had persisted. Whispering glow is both harmless, and well known. A suitable choice.”
Roland was surprised at his own quick thinking. It was as though a haze over his mind had been lifted.
Still, the lie wasn’t perfect. It would fall apart the moment they reached civilization. With how popular a spell Whispering Glow was, it would only be a matter of a couple days before nearly every person on the planet who used the Central Astricon would know something had happened to it. Every magic tower in the world was probably in an uproar already.
What would Alicia do when she heard of this? Naturally she would realize Roland was the source. She'd sell him out. The bounty would be huge. Even if she still believed he was a king at that time, his title would not be enough to protect him. People wielding far greater power than a mere king would chase him down. People whose interests would vary from wanting him dead in order to maintain the status quo, to those who would want to contain him, and hoard his knowledge for themselves.
The more he thought about it, the more troublesome it was. His opponents were far too strong to openly oppose. He couldn't just run away either; the people who hunted him would have tracking abilities which far eclipsed his ability to evade.
He needed a plan, he needed a way to get far away from here, fast, while also delaying Alicia. Alternatively, he could do something to entirely prevent her from leaking any information...
There was always murder.
No no no. Roland shook the thought from his head. Putting aside that her combat abilities likely made that impossible, it wasn't something he was willing to do.
How could he delay her then?
First he had to know his options. What was he up against? How strong was Alicia in comparison to himself?
“I take you for a Guardian? What is your rank?”
“Heron-class” Alicia answered, proudly showing him a metallic badge engraved with the letter H.
Roland nodded but grimaced inside. Heron class was an impressive feat. Certainly outside the reach of most.
“Excuse me then, but I must measure how much of my strength I’ve recovered.”
Immediately after he said so Roland shifted his mind to the astral plane. The physical world melted away as the shadowy form of the astral plane slowly came to focus.
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Different from before, the dense network of twisting rivers on the periphery of his soul had dried up.
“I told you.” A voice whispered to him across realms from the physical world. “The power was not our own.”
“Our?” He said back with a voice that commanded the entire realm. “Do not lump us together. You are nothing but the vestiges of a dead man.”
Before the voice could answer back he pressed on their soul, willing it against its boundaries, commanding it to expand and reach out. Power came out, a thin mist quickly scattered to the void. He pushed harder, commanding it ever farther.
What Roland was attempting here was to forcibly expand his domain, to push it up against Alicia’s and use it as a measure of his strength.
Very quickly he encountered an insurmountable resistance. It was a cloud of energy in a different alignment from his own. It exerted pressure against his advance.
This is what Roland intended to use as a yardstick for his own strength. But there was a problem. He had no sense of scale. How far was he from her core?
Fortunately, Roland had his own tricks. He was a rational astral entity. He could effortlessly shape himself in ways others couldn’t.
Roland commanded his energy into the form of a needle. As thin and sharp as he could manage.
He shot it forward. Piercing through the clouds of Alicia’s astral domain.
It stopped, not traveling far enough to strike her core, but close enough to make out its silhouette.
Alicia’s soul was much like his own. It was twisted, though not with the same blend as his own. Something was attached to it, a portal of some sort that was decidedly inhuman.
Roland exited the Astral realm as quickly as he could and cursed under his breath. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Alicia was not as she seemed.
He wasn’t sure what it meant but he had a bad feeling. Especially given the power difference he had just observed. If Alicia was Heron-Class, then he was probably Bessel. No stronger than the average untrained peasant. All he had going for him was his talent for manipulation of the astral realm.
“Someone’s coming” Alicia suddenly said.
Roland looked to where Alicia was watching but couldn't see anything. Though it would be strange if he did. Guardians had trained to be superhuman. Someone of Heron class such as Alicia had a plethora of spells at their disposal to enhance their senses.
Curiously though, Roland hadn’t sensed any such spells. Given his abilities, he had no doubt that sensing such a thing was well within his capabilities.
This only added to his questions. Was Alicia an Augmenter? A practitioner of a magic woven into their biology? Or did it have something to do with the strangeness of her soul?
Soon enough, a new face broke through the vegetation. He was panting heavily and had to wipe sweat from his forehead. He looked to be in his late twenties. Brown hair, brown eyes, light skin that looked like it did not often see sunlight. He held one large staff and had a dozen wands attached at the hip. He was the spitting image of a support mage in Roland's eyes.
“Darrius? Where is everyone else?” Alicia asked.
“Separated” he answered between panting breaths. “We were ambushed by a Fenrir. It got Erwin. Badar might be gone too.”
Alicia paled and Roland felt a shiver run down his spine. Fenrirs were indomitable creatures of at least Lima-Class. What was one doing here? They were supposed to be rare in this part of the world.
“Are you also Heron-Class?” He asked them.
“He is.” Alicia answered.
"Splitting up was the best option then." Roland comforted them. "It would take a Klasen-Class team at a minimum to take it on."
"How much do you know about Fenrirs?" Alicia asked.
“More than anyone alive I imagine.” Roland answered.
“Who are you?” Darrius asked.
“Roland. King of the Apocalypse.”
Darrius went silent, unsure of how to respond.
“Shall I punish him for his lack of respect?” Alicia asked.
“No time for that. We need to get moving. Fenrirs are known to hunt for sport.”
“Agreed.” Alicia said. She gave a resigned sigh. “There’s nothing we can do for them now Darrius. The best we can do is search for Tarrin Town and hope we meet up with them there. If anyone else survived that’s likely what they would do. That, or..."
A spell circle manifested in the air before her, a gust of wind with explosive power shot out between them, throwing Roland and Darrius to the ground.
The air roared. The ground shook. A Fenrir landed roughly just one hundred feet away.
"It's here!" Darrius yelled in a panic. "Shit! What do we do? Do we split up?"
The Fenrir stalked them in a circle just outside engagement range, searching for an opening to strike.
Alicia glanced at Roland for a minute before focusing back on the Fenrir. "Can you buff a spell to the point that it can take that thing out?"
Could he? Roland didn't think so. The four-class gap between the Fenrir and Alicia was no minor leap.
"Darrius, cast any buffs you can on me!" Alicia ordered. "Roland! Now's not the time to hold anything back!"
"It'll only work if you cast something that uses the Akashic Records!" He shouted.
"I don't know what that means!" She yelled back.
"Just spam the strongest attack spells you have and I'll pick one!"
"I don't have the mana for that! You'll have to pick one before it's cast! Darrius! Cast a calmness spell on me!"
Darrius immediately began chanting something while dozens of spell circles began drawing into the air before Alicia.
Luckily, the Fenrir was spooked by the display and retreated back to the treeline.
“Fuck!” Roland yelled as he inspected Alicia’s spells. “None of these will even cut its fur! You don’t have anything else? Now’s not the time to hold anything back!”
Alicia hesitated for a moment, but as the Fenrir cautiously drew closer, she made up her mind.
All the old spell circles she had manifested faded away, and in their place drew one carved from shadows. The astral remnants which formed it carved themselves into the fabric of space and let no light escape.
Roland recognized the spell.
Wrath of the Black Storm
"Why the fuck do you know that one!" He yelled. Though at the same time, he did not hesitate to pour his energy into it. It wasn’t a spell that used the Akashic Records, but it was the only chance they had.
He half expected the spell to reject him, considering its origins, though surprisingly that did not happen.
This time when he entered the astral realm, Roland found the strongest chain of mana that he could and aggressively followed it. It went down a path which skirted the shadows of the astral realm, it slithered and snaked, and as it progressed along, actively responded and receded before him.
The weave of connections and energy masquerading as a spell soon abandoned any semblance of an inanimate form. At the periphery of his awareness, a darkness stalked his advance, a presence which he would not be able to discern if he wasn't looking for it.
Suddenly it exploded inward, spikes of black malicious mist devoid of energy attacking like spears in a thrust from all directions.
It was an attack that Roland knew by instinct no ordinary person could resist. And yet, for him, he was as comfortable in this space as he was physical reality. More than that even, Roland was a master of this domain, a rational mind in an irrational space. He twisted the space in on itself, traversing a non-Euclidean fabric which was formed of his own imagination.
His opponent missed, and with it, he could clearly trace it to its origins. On one side was the spell, Wrath of the Black Storm. It was attached to Alicia's soul through a malignant growth which had burrowed itself within her, a parasite in the astral realm.
Alicia was under demonic possession. Roland would be too if he was not careful. More and more Roland pulled on his own energy, the once bottomless well of power receding quickly to his touch. He pushed on, drawing on so much of his power that the fiber of his being began to wither.
He had no choice. The stakes couldn't be higher. The entity he was dealing with, if he didn't stop it here, only an eternity of suffering would await him on the outside.
At the same time, he checked on the outside world, diverting his attention despite the strain it put on his sanity. The Fenrir was close now. Dangerously close. He didn't have time.
Like a madman with a machete, Roland went wild. Severing connections and reforming new ones. If he could break the demonic possession, but leave the spell intact, then they might have a real chance.
It wasn’t long before his reserve of mana was completely exhausted, and Roland was forced back to the physical world. He didn’t have any clue if he was successful. The situation demanded a surgeon, but he only had the skill and the time to be a butcher.
Meanwhile, a pitch black and malicious fog poured out from Alicia’s spell circle. It creeped forwards swiftly, though silently.
Although the spell looked harmless by initial appearance, beneath the surface was something sinister. It was a spell created in the image of the Demonic Black Fog that ravaged the continent of Novae Terra.
The Fenrir did not hesitate and charged straight into it. The fog smoothly slipped around the Fenrir's fur on a cushion of air
An instant later it turned as hard as steel, it continued forward, carrying with it a great force of momentum that tossed the Fenrir aside so easily as though flicking away a bug.
The Fenrir yelped. It was thrown into the trees. The collision was so powerful it shook the earth.
It continued to whimper and spasm on the jungle floor as it fought the terrors conjured in its mind by the spell ravaging its soul. It tore through the earth and bounded uncontrollably. It tore through the trees as though they were no more than reeds in a field.
Time passed in slow motion. Dread swelled up in Roland. Tearing away at his sanity as he slowly circled the motionless Alicia.
She turned, facing them with a broken, ghoulish smile that only shown on half her face.
"Father knows where you are." She spoke.
"You are not needed." The other half of Alicia's face blankly stated. The spear she held shot out, faster than Roland's eyes could track it. It obliterated Darrius's face, turning it to a red mist, piercing so quickly that the rest of his body stayed motionless for a moment, before collapsing.
"Let's have a chat with father. Shall we?" The ghoulish side said. It had a cheerful, almost innocent tone.
A sphere manifested around them in a color not seen with the eyes but felt in the recesses of the mind. It was a cloud of shifting space.
An Interdiction was taking place.