Mardar scourge rune had been taken from his clan’s citadel at the tender age of five to become the disciple of the jade lord at the citadel of aether itself. A bastion of all runes inconceivable and of knowledge but ancient and restricted, it served as the abode of the aether blessed himself, grand protector of the barrier worlds protecting the archailect from the abyss and its forces. The position of the grand protector itself was reserved to the most knowledgeable jade versed in the use of runes for both offensive and defensive forms of battles, it was a position few were ever worthy of even in the exalted ranks of jades and fewer still ever wanted.
The lifespans of the jade lords were unusually short and brutal, due to its very nature, they were always at constant battle with the lords of the abyss themselves, their disciples, and all the denizens themselves. Lucirion aether blessed though, had become a monster of epic proportions even by jade standards, rising from the clan of the aether suns, he had absorbed all knowledge bestowed upon him by his elders, becoming a disciple by the age of eighteen, and in a few short years, replacing the jade lord himself who had died in battle to a lord of the abyss, killing the lord as well.
The process of choosing a disciple was simple, all children from the moment they were able to fashion their first runes were taken for an induction ceremony at the alter of runes, one location within the world the specific clan called a domain. These worlds were linked together through specific runes that allowed travel through the Nethervoid, runes imprinted into each jade at birth and simply ceased to exist should they be captured or die at the hands of an opponent, hence their fortress worlds and strongholds were forever known only to the jades themselves, not even the primordials themselves knew the location of the fortress worlds, the jades answering only the supreme beings and their messengers, not even the harbingers.
Mardar had been born on the fortress world of the scourge rune clan, a child of the current high chief of the clan, he had been destined to take the position from his father, high chief Ogaf scourge rune when he eventually fell in battle as all high jades did eventually. What they didn’t anticipate however, was him forging his first rune at the age of five, for children born to jades began to manifest their first runes from the age of fifteen upwards. The only other person to had broken such rule had been the aether blessed himself who had forged his first rune at the age of fourteen, a year earlier and even that had been unprecedented. High chief Ogaf had been ecstatic, proud to the infinite void and had spread the news of such discovery.
Like all news good or bad, it had spread like wildfire to the other fortress worlds in the front lines, eventually reaching the ears of the citadel of aether itself. Emissaries of the aether blessed had been sent to the fortress world of the scourge rune themselves, orders given to retrieve the child prodigy to become a disciple. Ogar had immediately handed over a young Mardar who had no idea what was going on but had been reassured by his father that he was going to a better place, and that he would be visited from time to time by his parents, of course, that had been the last time he had ever seen any of his parents or his home world in a long time.
Undergoing intense training and forging at the hands of Lucirion himself, Mardar had quickly grown from a young naive but talented jade to a warrior of the second order at the age of eighteen, the original age needed to become a disciple. He hadn’t been the only disciple candidate at the citadel, meeting those older than him by age and power, he had quickly drawn their ire or jealousy due to his talent. Not that he cared though, for as soon as he realized just what he was potentially capable of doing, he had thrown himself into his studies and training with a manic zeal, unaware of anyone else in the citadel apart from the aether blessed himself and his studies.
Soon enough he had outstripped his senior peers, unlocking runes of such power and bending them to his will, that he had been permitted to view the aether blessed creating new runes in his quarters, an honor left to only the best of the best disciple among their current batch. When the time finally came for them to go into the field for their final trials at the age of hundred, after climbing the mini-ranks of the second order and reaching its peak, a rank akin to a master in the archailect proper, Mardar had been gifted his own robes, indicating the potential possibility of him being the true disciple of the aether blessed.
The other disciples had been enraged, but the aether blessed had spoken and none would dare deny his words, not unless they wanted to be erased from existence and their clan shunned by the other clans themselves. Thus, with nothing but their robes and runes they had earned of their own volition, these young masters were thrown into the front lines themselves, crossing over into the weak zones where the abyss ruled and ordered to bring back the skull of a notable creature of the abyss belonging to any of the four factions of the of the abyss.
From the onset of the mission, Mardar had been besetted on all sides enemies disguised as allies, but he had forged on, making his way deeper into the abyss, a one man column of defiance and raw aetheric energy and runes. Burning his way through the realms of each of the lords of the abyss, he had battled one creature each, notable ones in the hierarchy of the lords and had taken their skulls as trophy. It was here that his supposed brother disciples had waylaid him, far away from the gaze of the aether blessed, thinking him weak without the protection of Lucirion himself.
Perhaps if they had thought about it well enough, perhaps they would had questioned just how he had been able to kill such powerful creatures of the abyss by himself, but jealousy and greed blinded them to that particular point, ensuring all they saw was a rival hell bent on their disgrace and eventual demise. Mardar had spared not a single one of them, not when the words of the aether blessed still rang in his mind,
“There is no such thing as a weak enemy, whoever comes at you should expect you return the favor in kind.”
Back when he had been told those words, he had assumed Lucirion had simply been reminiscing to himself, perhaps reflecting on some ancient memory, but during those gory moments, he realized that he had seen this scenario play out, Lucirion had peeked into the infinite folds of reality and had singled out this possibility to happen. Countless creatures had been fought as he made his way back into the Nethervoid, both powerful and weak, but Mardar had returned triumphant, a full jade of the first order, a ruler.
As he felt reality break around him and his allies, he shut off his thoughts of reminiscing, focusing on the battle that had been shifted to the Nethervoid. His foe was no ordinary being of the abyss and mutator, it was one of the sacred rune wraiths of Molrik, beings bestowed with the powers to translate the raw powers of the mutator into runes so powerful that they were the building blocks of the realm of the mutator. Every lord of the abyss had their own equivalents of such beings, and they usually stayed close to their lords themselves seeing as they were really valuable assets not to be squandered in meaningless battles of attrition with the jades.
Rune wraiths were exotic creatures hunted by jades of the first order and at great risks, one hadn’t been killed in centuries, but as Mardar stared at the rune wraith in front of him, he knew it was not just any rune wraith, it was the rune wraith itself,
Azur rune wraith,
Named monsters were usually signs of the most powerful of their kinds, those first created by their lords and placed in charge of their kinds. Vesh was the first and most favored of the elites or chosen of Molrik, hence why Mardar had a bit of apprehension for the titan blade that faced her. He cleared the thought from his mind though as the Nethervoid dumped them in an area far from the other combatants, and while he could still hear their voices and weapons clashing, Mardar knew they were really far apart from each other.
Still, he unleashed his entire runic bank, letting this array of runes he had prepared for battle float around him. The sinister voice from the cloak chuckled,
“I can smell him on you, disciple of the aether blessed, your master has slain thousands of my children, hunted me to the ends of the abyss, I would derive great joy in sending him your dismembered body parts one bit at time. An inexperienced mage or a hot-headed ascender would had risen to the bait, risen and then promptly found his or her existence vanquished in the blink of an eye. Baiting was a usual technique most mages used in distracting their opponents from realizing they were chanting words underneath, catching them totally off guard. Rune users, an evolved and higher form of your average mage, took this strategy and perfected it to the core.
Rune users had no need to chant spells, their willpower and authority had gone into forging runes that conveyed their very words and goal. It was why runes were hardly used by mages below gold, for they still tapped into their paths unconsciously to draw mana into their spells. Diamond ranked mages and above though had seen their eyes opened to the archailect and the speech of the aether beneath those silent syllables, these syllables were runes.
Runes could be forged while talking and to the ordinary mage waiting for words of power to be spoken, this meant total immolation. Mardar however had been forging his own runes from the moment they had been thrown into the Nethervoid, pumping power into them from his core and priming them for battle. Azur saw his original tactics hadn’t worked and resulted to pure brute force. Sometimes Mardar wondered why people didn’t research more into runes and their applications, but he had long since accepted the fact that most people desired power they could feel and touch, not powers they felt could fail them.
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Mardar was not among them, he had gazed deep into the true reality of aether and he had gleamed a fraction of the truths of reality, those people were the true idiots, for they had just no idea what power they had at their reach. The rune wraith called upon a rune of meshing decay, gathered from sources of power deep within the abyss, he forged a spindly weapon of true horrific proportions, held together by a single rune of decay that held many purposes all in one.
Sending the weapon hurling towards Mardar, it held the power to turn an entire planet into a toxic wasteland filled with the rotting but ever alive bodies of sentient beings simply begging for death and the release form their eternal torment. Mardar gleamed all these from the feel of the rune, meaning somewhere, deep within the realm of Molrik was a planet filled with beings in such a predicament, their very life force being fed upon and replenished.
A burning white rune sprang up in front of the scourge rune, gripping it and flicking it towards the weapon of such demi-universal strength, the rune shattered on contact with the weapon of Azur, releasing a cry from a long dead celestial creature that had once called a planet Mardar had taken under his jurisdiction home. Its main gift was to dismantle any workings of power around itself, and it had taken Mardar an entire day to subdue and kill the creature that had been driven to the very edge of madness by its century's long exposure to the essence of the abyss.
The weapon shattered, the flames of Mardar burning whatever residue left in the air to absolutely nothing, ensuring no piece of the power was left. The wraith snarled, the chains floating from within its frame dangling in the air as it quivered angrily,
“you were the one that put down by favored pet” it said,
Mardar spared it no reply, grabbing another run and slamming his palms together with the rune within them, crushing it to dust, he opened his palm, burning dusts shaping themselves into a three headed serpent. A sealing spell that bound both on the physical level and the spiritual level as well, sending the animated creature after Azur who laughed in glee,
“Is this all the disciple of the aether blessed is capable of?, did your lord teach you nothing?” it gloated,
Mardar paid it no mind, pulling his willpower into empowering the serpent that hissed, its voice sealing down space around them. Locking the rune wraith in place,
“you think yourself equal to me in understanding of runes?” Azur boasted,
Mardar silently found the question odd seeing as their understanding of runes were as different as night from day, but he gave the creature no reply, already preparing his next runes. Azur shivered as he activated a rune, a pair of dull green serpentine eyes appearing above him,
“figures” Mardar thought to himself sourly,
Like a slippery serpent, Azur freed himself from the bindings a set of glowing green light coming from its tattered robes. Immediately Mardar snapped his fingers, barrier over barrier of runes encasing himself to the fundamental level of the concept of protection itself. The blast of power slammed into his multiple shields and began eating away at them in quick order, proving his theory about the nature of the attack right.
The rune wraith like all favored ones of their lords had an ability Lucirion had once predicted to be able to tap into the actual essence of their lord themselves, channeling such power through their own forms to lay devastating damages on their foes, a sort of once or two time attacks. Even as his shields continually broke, standing no chance against the raw energy of the lord mutator himself, Mardar didn’t falter in his concentration as he prepared his next attacks.
Having a moment of nostalgia even as he broke open his vault, the key being the ring on his index finger, he felt sour that he would have to use such powerful weapons temporarily borrowed without the consent of the various supreme beings who made them for their harbingers at one point or the other in history. These weapons had been given to their long dead harbingers as a show of favor, some obtaining more than one during their lifetimes but the weapons becoming lost as their wielders perished in battles at one point or the other.
The supreme beings couldn’t be bothered with retrieving such weapons, to them they were nothing but discarded toys, besides, they couldn’t be activated without the specific powers of the supreme beings who had made them. Not unless those same powers could be duplicated, albeit for a short period, nothing a jade ruler of his strength couldn’t do. Deep down he knew he had been exaggerating, no jade or rune ruler in their right minds would wield such weapons, not unless they wanted to be burnt to a husk, their bodies smoldering for a century or so as the powers of the supreme beings turning them into a living pyre.
Mardar was not just any jade though, he was the scourge rune, he was the disciple of the aether blessed and he could tap into that authority and aspect of his lord. Firstly, he summoned the unbroken shield of Filvux, supreme of mantles, the authority of the shield stopping the power of the mutator dead in its tracks like water thrown at a metal shield. The attack splashed harmlessly against the relic, Mardar grunted though, feeling the pressure of simply holding the shield in his left hand as it seemed to double in weight.
Pouring more of his master's authority and aspect into fueling the shield, he subtly coaxed the weapon into thinking he was the rightful wielder and heaved a sigh of relief as the shield lightened in weight. Rushing to close the distance between himself and Azur, the rune wraith realized just what he was about to do and shot backwards, gathering itself for another devastating attack that had dried the very shallow waters beneath their feet. Mardar smiled smugly as he realized he had forced the progenitor of the rune wraiths into using the powers of its lord, besting it in a match of runes, should he survive the battle, he would gloat to Lucirion about just how far he had come along.
Azur snarled, speaking and this time channeling actual words of power coupled with runes that burned bright with the pure power of Molrik. Mardar wondered just how much the rune wraith wanted him dead to burn through its literal existence by summoning and channeling the powers of the lord mutator himself. He silently acknowledged the being, perhaps it was time he took this battle as deadly as it was becoming,
“Obey the words of mutation, eternal transformation” Azur said, releasing a rune that burned brightly in the dark expanse of this corner of the Nethervoid,
Like the baleful cry of the damned, a large crystal appeared out of nowhere, a gong reverberating through the air as Mardar crashed to his knees, feeling the pure authority of the lord mutator settle upon him. Grunting as he struggled to keep the shield up, he felt his runic shields he had sown into his very attire beginning to unravel at the seams, runes forged in the very heart of the citadel of aether turning to mush under the focused power of the mutator.
This was no time to hold back, consequences be damned, speaking, his eyes blazed with white flames as he tapped into his authority and aspect,
“Burn away” he commanded,
His aspect burnt the authority of the lord mutator that had landed on his body, trying to slow down the effects of the attack, and it was as a testament to his skills and power that he could slow it down just but a fraction of a second, but it had given him more time than he needed. Another relic appeared over his body, this time the hide of some unknown feline beast, a defensive relic created by Draulr wolftide, the supreme of aura. It shattered the authority of Molrik around his body, completely freeing him from the effects of the mutator.
However, it was another burden on his body and Mardar felt his body despite being tempered over and over by the aether blessed strain under the immense authority and aspect he was wielding. Before the rune wraith could think of a suitable response to his actions, he equipped the last two relics and went on the attack, aware that they were his final cards in this battle.
A silver blade appeared in his hands and a helm made of dragon hide over his head as he shot forwards, his body screaming under the strain of such relics that carried serious significance on reality itself. The blade, Excalibur, forged by Alastor himself, one of the famous divine blades of the supreme of intent flashed through the air before Azur could even respond. It sliced the Nethervoid, sliced Azur and sliced his very existence in half. It was the most deadly and silent attack ever seen, the blade dissolving away along with the feline hide and unbroken shield. Mardar’s sight became dizzy, but he knew if he didn’t finish the last attack, he would be at the mercy of the rune wraith when it regenerated, drawing its existence back together through the authority of the lord mutator.
He opened his mouth, pouring every drop of aether he had into the dragon helm adorning his head and spoke a word of power, empowering it with a rune he had forged, the same rune he had forged when he had been five years old and had begun his adventure in the archailect,
The rune of empowerment,
“ANNIHILATE” he said,
Pure gold and white flames poured out of the helm, bathing the very area in flames that neither carried heat nor stung, but its effects however had driven the fear of the supreme being of aether into his very heart. The flames burnt Azur into oblivion, burnt the authority and aspect of Molrik around the area as well as burning every abyssal power around them into oblivion.
In short, Azur had no idea when he had ceased to exist, he had simply been there at one moment, trying to drag its existence back together and the next, it had been erased from existence. Mardar crashed into the ground, his very bones shattering as he bit back a scream of agony, the relics he had summoned lay next to him in a circle, pressing their authorities down on him as he was unable to speak.
Fighting for his very sanity, he tore open his vault, trying to push the relics with his aura back into them as it would cut off their connections to him but failing. Chuckling to himself, he realized how this was how he was going to die, his hubris at wielding the relics of the supreme beings coming to bite him back in the ass. Prepared to die, he was startled when someone landed next to him, craning his neck a bit to see the titan blade crouching next to him, a look of confusion on his face,
“you killed the rune wraith, what are you doing lying on the ground?” he asked,
Mardar visibly struggled to roll his eyes at the child primordial, any primordial currently around would had seized on the opportunity to steal the relics for themselves, not the titan blade though, he doubted the child even knew what the relics were. Turning his gaze to the relics, Mardar wanted to scream at him not to touch them, for even primordials knew better than to use their physical hands to touch the weapons of the supreme beings without coating them in their aspects, the conceptual weight alone was-
Mardar choked as he saw Moyo lift the unbroken shield, a weapon supposedly forged from a world whose gravity had crushed entire suns and black holes, tossing it idly and staring at it before tossing it into Mardar’s vault. The scourge rune gasped as a single pressure was lifted off his chest,
“The rest!” he croaked,
Understanding, Moyo simply began tossing the rest effortlessly into the vault without a care in the world, freeing the scourge rune who now had a very healthy fear of the titan blade.