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Heir of Wilberforce
Prologue: Book-sword

Prologue: Book-sword

Second World

The year 16 After Descent (AD)

The sound of gallops rang in the air as three riders sped across a mountain range. The riders rode side-by-side: with the central rider observing the front, the left rider observing the back and the rider on the right observing the sides.

The rider on the left looked over his shoulder for the third time. He shook his head dejectedly. "They are close, Commander. They'll catch up in a couple hours." He said.

"I'm going to use that technique!" The middle rider, addressed as Commander, said.

There was an abrupt halting of the two horses riding by his side, mainly as a response to his answer. And the greenish-brown eyes of the rider on the right and the sword-shape iris in the eyes of the rider on the left fixed on him, "t... that technique.... Commander, is there no other way?" They asked, further widening their gaze in utter surprise.

"What I need is time, at least eleven hours." His face was solemn as he further confirmed his stance. "Can you watch for eleven hours." A hint of uncertainty could be picked in his voice, as if he was contemplating something.

As for the two, seeing their leader was dead set, they nodded in complete approval, "yes, commander!"

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a stony cave attached to the base of a thousand-feet tall mountain. Its edges were covered by yellowish mushrooms and its entrance lined by a thick cobweb.

They had been targeting this cave ever since the Commander decided to use 'that technique'. They climbed down their horses and the Commander, his eyes closed, walked to the feet long entrance of the cave. He seemed to well know of the environment as if his eyes were open. He stood before the entrance, observing something in the darkness of the cave.

After a short while, he turned back to his two companions, "This will do!" He said, bending down to cut through the cobweb into the small passage. But just as he was about to enter, he turned back again, and with his eyes closed, expressed a warm smile to them. They instantly bowed, understanding what he just did as a goodbye. And before they looked up, he was gone.

As he disappeared into the cave, they stood watch, their body language signifying their unwavering resolve: never to move from their spots even after death.

Three hours later, a black void suddenly appeared in the air and another set of three people appeared. Even the appearance of this people didn't faze the two people guarding the entrance.

As soon as these people arrived, the temperature markedly fell. Waves of a frigid energy spread out.

Even though, the clothes of this people appeared black, they were not, in fact, the only black in them was the most conspicuous thing in them - their eyes!

Their eyes, something you could not miss even if you saw it on the verge of death, was a perfectly fitting black color. As black as a skillet. Both the sclera and the iris were black. Indeed, someone from a distance would most likely mistake it for a black hole.

These eyes were called Urúrú.

After a minute, the whole area around the stony cave turned from misty to night dark. The same black eyes that made the robes of these newcomers to appear black, even though they weren't, had also turned the surroundings dark.

The darkness in those eyes was so much so that if you looked at them for an extended period, you would feel as if you would be drawn inside them and be lost forever.

For a complete two to three minutes after the three had arrived, not even a word was said between the two parties. And just when it seemed they would not say anything, the tallest among the three, who was almost four meters tall, cast a meaningful look at the person standing to his left. "Uznu Urúrú," He said, "you should get enlightenment during this encounter."

Uznu Urúrú nodded. "Yes, Wraith."

The Wraith then turned to face the two standing in front of the cave. "It has been ten years already, I'm interested in knowing what made you stop," he stopped and looked at the two warriors guarding the entrance. It was only when it became clear he wasn't going to get any answer that he continued. "I thought you have become acquainted with living as fugitives... alas! My job is to find and exterminate you."

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With that, the black-eyed men, made complex hand gestures at the same time and in the same manner. Immediately after, their black eyes began to emit a dark glow, and then seconds later, six straight lines of black light, one from each of their eyes propagated toward the two warriors in front of the cave.

The one with the greenish-brown eyes, made a hand gesture, instantly synthesizing over one-thousand balls of flames the color of his eyes. He made another hand gesture and the thousand flame balls roared and revolved around him.

The other made a hand gesture and, surprisingly, a two-meter sword came out from each of his sclera. The swords appeared as bodiless figures before they solidified into real swords, the same shape as his iris. As he held the two swords, one in each hand, he jumped into air and blocked all the incoming rays of black light.

Meanwhile, his companion moved to the side and launched his fire balls to the black-eyed men.

The Wraith changed the course of his attack to block the fire balls.

A terrifying blast first coalesced at the point of collisions, before it suddenly exploded. Spreading a unique destructive force that instantly encompassed everything in sight. Within a second, this blast had destroyed enough landscape of the misty mountains to make it unrecognizable. There was no longer any mountain range, everything had just become a mixture of rubbles and dusts from the blasted giant mountains.

Several minutes later when the explosion settled, the misty mountain range appeared flat, as if it had never even existed. The only thing remaining, was that single cave. All the giant trees, all the beasts and all the mists had been cleared by just a single encounter.

And in front of this last standing cave, the three members of the Urúrú faced the two mysterious warriors. None of them seemed to be harmed in the slightest. Apparently, all that collision that levelled the mountain range was just a warm up for them.

Uznu Urúrú's heart skipped several beats as he peeked at the status of their opponents.

The one with the greenish eyes:

Level : ??

Negrinki : ??

Djinn : Fire

Sword Technique : ??

Spell book : ??

The one with the sword-shape iris was even more impressive:

Level : ???

Negrinki : ???

Djinn : ???

Sword Technique : ???

Spell book : ???

Uznu Urúrú knew from his elementary classes that once you read '?', then the difference between your level and your opponent's was more than a double. If there were two question marks, then the difference was at least three times. If there were more than two question marks...

But how comes? How powerful can they be? He couldn't help but ask himself as he sweat and prepared to die.

The two warriors continued to launch similar but increasingly powerful attacks as they defended the cave against the Wraiths.

And the battle continued.

After the battle, the whole mountain range and the densely populated wild life was turned into nothing more than a leveled land. No animal was found there again, in fact, not even birds could fly over the place, and the place became a major part of the Danger Zone.

But something escaped the attention of many: a person who was there at the battle, the one called Uznu Ururu, had survived the battle and had crawled his way back to the palace of the Second World.

It was said for many months he could do nothing, not even speak. And it was only after a year that he regained his abilities. He entered a secluded meditation after that. Nobody heard from him again.

However, just before he went into seclusion, he narrated a shocking story to the king of the Second World, King Dul Urúrú. The story of a mysterious sword, that was left behind by the man that had entered the stony cave.

According to Uznu Urúrú, no matter how he tried to claim the sword he couldn't, it was just impossible in a way that was unexplainable.

As he narrated to the King, "But I was persistent milord, even with the injuries I have sustained, I didn't let it out of my sight for three days and three nights.

"But then on the fourth day, the sword glowed, and before I could do anything, it had turned into... a book, the size of a hand.

"The book then flipped its pages, as if it was showing something to me (or to the world). But all I saw were bizarre characters written in blood!

"And also an incomprehensible noise that made me think I was hallucinating, or more appropriately, I was listening to summonings from the afterlife. But it all lasted only a few seconds and before I know it..." he looked even more absentminded than ever, looking at the floor with a blank expression. He remained in this state for many seconds as if trying to comprehend his next words. And then he stammered, "It... d... disappeared!"

Somehow someway, word of the Book spread, and with time, the seekers of this Book multiplied. Within a few centuries, many would sacrifice anything and everything in order to lay hands on it. They didn't know which one was better: a Book or a Sword. So they came to call it Book-Sword.

Years passed. A new era came but the people never forget the mysterious Book-sword.

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