62

Iris looked down at the deep, dark sea, filled with abdominal creatures. They left early in the morning, yesterday. Since then, they have been travelling at the coastline of the Er sea and the Laks empire. In an hour or so, they should arrive at the entrance of the Shattered Realm, which was a city built in a split of a boulder.

Hecate was asleep after she got bored of staring at the ever-expanding, unchanging sea. Ianthe, however, was lost as she stared into it.

“Are you alright?” Iris asked, curious.

Ianthe sighed and nodded. She flopped back, her legs dangling above the sea. “I wonder… If my mother was the same as my father."

Iris did not say anything; she had no concept of parenthood. The closest thing to a parent was her mother, Arachnee Empress, and she was cruel yet kind in her own way.

“Iris, do you have any idea how long maturing takes for a familiar?” Hecate pushed herself up. Yawning.

“I do not know... Maybe a month, or sometime a year, depending upon the life span of the familiar. Winny would probably take half a day—even though she can live thousands of years—because she is half spirit, and spirit matures instantly. But dragons take the longest." Iris turned and looked at Hecate. Her dishevelled and unguarded appearance was calming, and contrary to her appearance, she did not snore; Ianthe did. Iris chuckled at that thought. She still couldn’t get over the image of Ianthe snoring; her appearance did not match that.

“Hah… I want to see him; it’s been too long."

“Once he breaks out of his shell, he’ll find you. There’s nothing you can do."

Hecate frowned at her words: “I wish I could do something."

…

The shattered realm was situated at the precipice of the desolate planes and the Twain Kingdom. A little inland from the Er sea, but not very deep into Ira.

From afar, nothing felt wrong. It was another place with storms and tornadoes. Nothing too much for the weather to shock the lightning lord.

Yet, at a closer distance, it was different. As if the world were crumbling, a massive crater existed. The edge was brittle land floating and falling in the chasm of the abyss. The eternal darkness twined with grey storm clouds. The clouds were both below the land as well as above, sometimes swallowing the land directly.

A massive death storm stood at the very centre. Pieces of busted land circled it, and massive chunks of bust stood flatly, resisting the storm... The scene of a chasm with a storm and land was like gazing at the end of the world.

“It’s like the end of the world,” Iris said. They were still miles away from the edge, on a protruding piece of rock.

“This is done by humans," Hecate muttered. Her mind failed to fathom the power that had greeted the sight before her. Iris was less shocked. Or not. It was destructive, but far from surprising; she was expecting this. If it were anything less, she would’ve been disappointed by the battle. This was the natural outcome.

“It is; one day, you, too, should have the power to do it. If you don’t, how will you help your Lady bring peace to her nation?" Iris replied to Hecate. This place was filled with monsters, ghouls, and probably what Ilona called Demons. Demons did not exist in Labyrinth, or should she say, demons were species of natural intelligence; hence, they are not monsters in the traditional sense. She could even feel the devil's presence, which left her feeling excited to fight someone at full strength. It would be fun.

“Of course, we all will be the strongest,” Hecate proclaimed loudly, a broad smile on her face, and the wind did the flowing thing to give her hair a majestic volume as she spoke. It echoed as one would expect. They were on a cliff, and below was a rock forest.

“I doubt that,” Ianthe replied, raising an eyebrow. “Chances of all of becoming as strong as Roundtable Rivals are non-existent as the formation of Roundtable Rival."

“And they exist, so we will be the strongest,” Hecate said even more proudly as if she said something genius. Iris nodded; it was genius, actually, in a bad way.

“We should proceed. Ianthe, where are we supposed to go?” Iris asked. There was a veil placed around the chasm. So, even she would need to expand a considerable amount of strength to create a hole in it, and the creator of the veil would most likely know about it by that point.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“We need to circle... and reach for Riven town. It’s west of here; we should reach it in fifteen minutes at our speed,” Ianthe said, shuffling through the map. “I think we should go there without flying; there are a lot of demons here capable of taking down our vehicle. Using the land is my proposal.”

“You’re the one who has travelled most in this world, Ianthe. We will follow your suggestion. But…” Iris pressed her foot on the grey rock; it shattered, and for a moment, the world turned purple—everything around them shook. Suffocating lightning-natured mana embraced the world—Ianthe and Hecate’s faces lost colour as they tried their best to stay on their feet.

The quivering world returned to peace, and small purple sparks danced hot, grey rocks. When the pressure vanished, Hecate was the one to fall on her feet—followed by Ianthe.

“Why pretend they do not know we are here? All of us are trying to hunt each other, well, mostly them. Still, I am not keen on pretending,” Iris muttered as she looked at Ianthe and Hecate. “They should know before they tried to fight the lightning lord. On another note, you two should be able to stand in my presence; if you aren't—then that’s concerning. Hecate has just become level 5, but you, Ianthe—I expect to show more than this."

Ianthe barely nodded and pushed herself, her face cold to the touch—Iris’s worded word was like cold water. “I will try my best,” she said in shame.

“I am not scolding you... It’s just unnatural for someone of your strength to be unable to stand in my presence. Either there’s something wrong with you, or I have grown stronger,” Iris replied, hoping to diminish the blow of her words. Sometimes her arrogant mage side says things that are completely worthless and harmful. She did not know Ianthe’s condition to have said that. A simpler explanation would be that Ianthe was afraid of stronger people in general due to Isolde.

Iris sighed. “Let’s go. I have already warned everything that we are passing by. Now, if they attack, you two will strike for the kill—efficiently."

“RIGHT!” Hecate spoke with a smile as she summoned her white scythe. “I am starving for some kill."

Iris watched Hecate dash with the grace of a cat on the sharp and jaggy slant. The sharp rocks were nothing more comfortable footing for her. “We should follow her; get on.”

Iris summoned Weaver’s orb and made a circular platform. One for herself and one for Ianthe. “Get on.”

Ianthe shook her head. “No, I can run." Ianthe dashed in Hecate’s direction; her icy blue hair followed a moment later. Iris felt a sharp sting of jealousy at that braided rope.

Iris descended calmly. Observing the shadowy eyes. She wanted them to attack her—she wanted to try something. The labyrinth was all about efficiency. She never went into creative mode. Efficient spell casting, preparing the next magic circle, and the one after that.

It was either a horde of monsters or something that would end her in the first strike. Though, any monster would probably end her on the first strike. The difference was whether those who could break her weaver’s orb in one strike or could not. But the dangers left her with the most efficient route every time. Here, she wanted to play with her weaver’s orb.

Especially the last-ditch thing she did with Jeremiah. It was a momentary thing, as she lacked the mana to kill him any other way. She was not expecting such destruction from that orb. That led to reevaluating the nature of the weaver’s orb. She could use it in another way. In battle.

The first thing to attack them was a hungry ogre. It spared no time and rushed at them.

“I’ll take care of it,” Hecate said, her eyes gleaming in anticipation. She dashed, leaving an afterimage—an ashen phantom left in her wake. “Give me your soul!” Hecate screamed; her scythe glowed as she shot up to the head of the 30-meter-tall ogre. A predatory smile took her face as she manoeuvred off the hand that tried to catch her and swung her blade.

The scythe extended and made a silvery arc. It buttered through the mass of flesh and bones. Orge's head flew into the air. And the body went limp. “WOOHOO! Iris! Did you see—the scythe extended!”

“Yeah…” Iris said nothing more. Iris did not know anything else to speak. It extended because it was still alive, made of her sister’s soul. Iris was unsure how to feel about that. At least, Hecate did not mind. Iris was glad about that. “Let’s go.”

“Should we leave it like this?” Hecate asked, jumping from the mound of dead flesh.

“There are enough hungry things in this place. They can worry about something trivial like this,” Ianthe replied. “And it’s practically worthless; from taste to value, Ogres are practically unneeded."

“I see!” Hecate said. A white chain, smouldering in ash and black flames, formed on the other end of the pole. “I found another!” Hecate spun and threw the scythe into the sea of ancient trees with black bark and gnarled branches. Strength and speed smashed through the wall of wood and vanished. The chain continued to extend in Hecate’s hand. She tightened her grip and was pulled away. “WOOHOO!” Iris heard as Hecate faded.

“I think…”

“We should follow her,” Iris completed. “She should be safe here; even if something life-threatening is here, it would be good to face a threat."

“I am more worried about what she might pull from hell if left alone, with her soul powers,” Ianthe said, exasperated.

“It would be fun, though,” Iris replied with a smile before moving her platform. The forest was made mostly of trees, and Iris was glad for that fact. Dealing with bushes and vines was her pet peeve. She would prefer to face a hundred monsters than places filled with those demonic bushes.

Iris summoned two weaver’s orbs, “Ianthe, have you ever thought of changing the way you’ve fought till now?"

“No, sounds like pain; I am content with my current way of fighting."

“I see. What if you found a cooler way to fight?"

“Cool?” Ianthe stopped, staring at her blankly. “Is that even a factor when fighting? Efficiency is all that matters."

Iris sighed; of course, Ianthe wouldn’t understand. She did not blame her; after all, how many people have access to Weaver’s orb? Just thinking of controlling these and watching her opponent run away gave her a thrill. She had time to practice here.

“I am going to die!"

Iris rushed at Hecate’s words. Not panicked, she was sure, Hecate was falling off the cliff, not into the shattered realm but into some other crevice. “Is it a monster or a hole?" Iris asked.

“Monster?” Ianthe replied.

“I think a hole."

“I hope it's a monster."

“Don’t worry, I can fly,” Iris smiled coyishly.

“IRIS!” The pained scream changed her mind. She felt a dreadful presence beside Hecate. Her face lost colour as she left Ianthe behind and rushed ahead. What are you?!