“Quick, block him!”
“Damn it, are we going to fail here?”
Though these words were said, nobody moved a muscle as if the whole situation lacked any urgency.
Green flames swiftly coalesced in front of a prone figure's raised left hand, aimed straight at the pope. The prone figure's body was impaled straight through the chest on the ground. The thick armor encasing his body was horribly bent, cracked and burnt all over from multiple magical attacks from the intense fight that occurred before this figure's current wretched plight. Arrows riddled his body and the figure had his right arm badly mangled. However, the prone figure had a cruel, gloating smile as the green flame shot towards his target.
Suddenly, a wide man in simple brown robes appeared in front of the pope. The man contained the green flame that was aimed at the pope within a glowing purple sphere. However, the spherical barrier was unable to withstand and contain the immense power of the fire, shattering after a short moment of containment.
With all the mana that he could muster, the wide man rapidly drew runes in the air with his mana and began to glow. A glowing purple barrier encased both the man and the fire within. This time, the purple barrier had hints of gold. The proximity of the flames prevented him from isolating the flames from his body.
The barrier withstood the flames which started to consume the man as he was the only target within its range of destruction. The sorrowful voice of the pope resounded in the once grand hall that was wrecked from the intense fight that happened prior to this event.
“By the might of the pantheon, smite thy foes and bring justice to the fallen!”
As the pope completed her plea to the pantheon of gods, a light shone out and a hallowed scepter formed out of thin air and smote the prone figure that shot the green flame. The sound of crushed bones, accompanied by a sorrowful wail, was followed by silence. The pope knelt beside the burnt and half-destroyed body of the man who protected her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried soundlessly and clutched the corpse.
“What is there to be sad for? That man was just an NPC buff slave. Whether he survived or not doesn’t have any repercussions to the quest line does it,” someone muttered to his party members as if he had not seen the immense power that the man displayed to protect the pope.
However, in the silence, his words were as clear as day.
Incensed by the words, the pope glared through her tears at the person who muttered and roared, “Fool! That was Gwydion, the wandering magus! The strongest magus to ever exist in this world! To dare say he was 'just a slave'! Oh my old friend, my dear old friend…”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The bunch of players were stunned. To think that the mysterious wandering magus... the strongest magus in this VR game was in their midst and they had absolutely no clue. Furthermore, with such a deep connection to the pope, the rewards that these players would receive for joining with the church to kill the 5th emperor of destruction, foremost leader and twisted extremist of the evil god, would surely be affected. There had also been the possibility of being rewarded by Gwydion himself.
However, what was done, was done and could not be undone. Gwydion was dead and gone. No one could do anything once an NPC passed on. They could not be revived like players through spells or resurrect in towns.
Meanwhile, all Gwydion could feel as he embraced death was a sense of victory. The look of fear that the emperor of destruction had as he saw the scepter of the gods appear was priceless. That, and he had managed to save his dearest friend from falling to the desperate sneak attack by the emperor.
Moments later, just as Gwydion closed his eyes, a cry that seemed to originate from the depths of his soul sounded out. He heard faint mutterings in an unknown language followed by soft coos. Everything was a blur in front of Gwydion as he tried to move his seemingly paralyzed body, thinking he was headed to hell for not putting all his trust in the pantheon of gods.
However, Gwydion immediately relaxed as he realized that steady but gentle arms embraced him. A warmth could be faintly felt from around him as he felt like he was being wrapped in a mother’s embrace.
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Author's notes:
Beginner writer here, and this is my first story. I have been lurking around royalroadl for a while and finally decided to make a fiction of my own. I hope this fiction is interesting enough. I accept criticisms, but please make sure that criticisms are constructive and not just the plain old "this sucks". Please make sure to mention what the heck sucks and what possible improvements I could make to allow you readers to enjoy the story better.
If reception of this fiction is bad, I might just discontinue this fiction to save people from wasting their time on this fiction and to save myself from wasted effort. Please kindly leave a properly typed out review for reviews that are 3 stars and below. Otherwise I would think that the community reception for this fiction is simply poor and just stop writing this whole thing.
Edit (07/05/2016): Added more details to make the prologue flow better. Slowly "rewriting" the story by refining it and adding more details as necessary.