"Silence!" With a sharp, cold glance, Mirinthia silenced Nefan, as if she possessed magic capable of freezing the air around them. The girl next to him clung to Nefan tighter, as though trying to shield him from an invisible threat.
"Why does everything look as though we've been attacked by a pack of enraged beasts, rather than us, mere mortals, receiving our just deserts?" Vallynor pondered, as if engaged in a secret war where ordinary people are powerless against forces beyond their comprehension. He intended to add something about Vallynor but remembered the senior mentors had instilled in him the skill to remain silent at crucial moments, preserving secrets and arcane knowledge.
"Once, they were proud brothers and sisters, reigning over worlds, becoming legends. For instance, this..." Mirinthia pointed at Nefan, who despite his appearance, was once a grand master of martial arts, capable of destroying an entire planet with a single powerful strike. He had defeated many gods associated with martial arts, even killing and absorbing them to master their skills. Now, he lives like a pauper in the slums, indulging in humble pleasures.
Mirinthia described Nefan's past, but Vallynor, who had embraced the great, now corpulent man akin to a dragon, could not suppress his kindness. He was too kind, too empathetic towards this man, provoking Mirinthia's protests.
"Not only has my own blood been degraded, but so has the blood of this girl, Felicia, beside Nefan. She is an ancient vampire, born not of necromancy but through mutations of her own body. She toppled empires, subjugated worlds, and turned sentient beings into slaves willing to go to hell for her. She drank the blood of gods and made two lesser gods her servants. Now, she is a prostitute, selling her body while in a relationship with Nefan," Mirinthia began with pride, but as she reached the present moment, she was overcome with disgust.
Mirinthia briefly recounted the stories of each, while Vallynor, absorbing the details, filled in the gaps. Everyone in this city, in this world, were legends of their times and worlds, who had taken upon themselves the responsibility for balance. It was a sacred duty, beneficial even to gods and demons. They were like farmers, protecting the land to preserve its fertility, while gods and demons harvested their crop in the form of faith and souls of sentient beings.
But this war and the curse that became this world's bane caused a fall of the soul, turning it into a creature that devours others, like the undead. Vallynor felt that even his own understanding was insufficient to fully illuminate the horrors of this process.
"From this moment, Vallynor will train with you," announced Mirinthia, pondering what might have been if she had not escaped from the parasite and Caesar had not provided her assistance without a specific charge. Armed with resolve, Vallynor nodded, ready for training, dreaming of becoming great but not falling as low as those Mirinthia had spoken of.
***
In the desert, music bloomed, as if summoning monsters to a dance. Amid the intricate line of beasts stood a small temple, around which mysterious women, concealing their faces, knelt with heads bowed, creating an atmosphere of strange worship. The platform with the temple was slowly moved by four grotesque creatures, dwarfing the rest in size by three to four times.
From the small temple came cries and groans until two women emerged, maintaining their anonymity under the cover of their faces. The one leading appeared half the size of the others, like a child climbing onto her playground. Seated in their places, eight women, accentuating their beauty, bowed their heads in submission. However, the calm was shattered by a huge hand that surged from the sand, echoing the form of the four creatures that maneuvered the platform and temple. The Son of God emerged from the temple, chuckling, and declared:
"Another giant. A pity he's not a king."
The music in the desert continued to vibrate, as if crafting a magical performance where monsters and divine beings danced to the sounds of an unknown melody.
***
Emerging from the forge, Vallynor glanced back to see a multitude of dwarves engaging in conversation among themselves. Another group was occupied with the crafting of weapons and armor. Among the dwarves, Horkim stood out, joyously shouting and doling out punches, while even the perpetually sullen Dokod engaged in conversation with others. Remembering Dokod, especially during his armor work, reminded Vallynor of his seriousness.
After saying his goodbyes, Vallynor headed to the castle, quickly bathed, and donned his robe that never dirtied or smelled. This was a salvation for him, as it spared him the constant need to wash his garments. Indeed, for physical training, Vallynor wore special attire provided by Astro.
Stepping out of his room, Vallynor decided against using teleportation magic. Walking through the long corridors, he encountered Astro accompanied by several fairies busy at their tasks. Seeing Vallynor, Astro stopped, bowed, and said. The other fairies also halted their activities and bowed.
"Greetings, Vallynor. By evening, we will transform the appearance of your room."
"Why?" Vallynor asked, puzzled.
"Hmm?... Aren't you aware? Lord Caesar has ordered the relocation of plants from the park to your room. Could there have been some mistake?"
"Ah, I see. My apologies, I didn't realize immediately. Thank you for your assistance."
"If you need anything, just call. We'll come to help... We'll leave with your permission." Bowing again, the fairies went about their business.
Vallynor, turning away from the workshop, made his way to the library, where Caesar was already waiting for him. Caesar had finished writing various runes and symbols on a board and smiled when Vallynor entered.
"Today, we'll discuss runes, pentagrams, and magical symbols. There are many types and methods of their use, as well as different branches. But we'll examine the fundamentals, the origins of it all. The source of all runes, pentagrams, and so forth. Even those runes you refer to as Scandinavian, Egyptian, Arabic, and so on, they share a common origin."
Vallynor nodded, beginning to study the drawn symbols attentively, listening to Caesar, and making notes from time to time.
***
Nefan, along with his brothers and sisters, raced through the city, aiming for the exit. Lately, the number of fallen beings had significantly increased, forcing the group into battle. Glancing back, Nefan saw his weary beloved. She was on the verge of collapsing, but if she did, Mirinthia would turn her into a pillar of ice. Several of her siblings had already met this fate, left in a half-dead state. As both knew, even death is not the end, but it can further taint the soul.
"Nef... Nefan... please, give me some of your blood," Felicia gasped as she approached Nefan and whispered in his ear.
Without hesitation, Nefan extended his finger, and Felicia took it into her mouth, biting down. She began to suck the blood, slowly regaining her strength.
Nefan looked at Felicia with warmth in his eyes. After a few minutes, Felicia released his finger. She already looked better, but her race, focused on magical attacks and swift strikes, required a strong body. Unfortunately, she was not an undead vampire created by mutation. This absence of the insane strength possessed by the dead vampires. However, she compensated with greater resilience and the ability to strengthen through training. Felicia was a magic specialist and valued it above all. Yet now, even with her arsenal of spells, she was panting like a locomotive.
"Nefan, do you think the icy Mirinthia has become less cold, especially around Vallynor?" asked Felicia, looking at Nefan.
"I don't know. Maybe all her emotions have accumulated and are only now starting to emerge. But what concerns me more is what we do next," Nefan replied warily, eyeing the pack of the fallen.
***
Upon opening the door, Vallynor saw Fernando gazing melancholically out the window. As he entered the room, Vallynor noticed Fernando’s expression shift from vacant to joyous. Seizing his flute, Fernando began to play, leaping joyously from corner to corner. Then, pausing, he cheerfully said:
"I've been waiting for you. Got lost in my thoughts. So, are you ready for a new lesson?"
Vallynor's gaze drifted to the flute in Fernando's hand, and a long-pondered question emerged:
"As a musician, you're supposed to use various instruments. Yet, I almost always see you playing only the flute."
"He-he-he. That's because it's my primary musical instrument. After all, it's my main passion. I was even nicknamed the Pied Piper of Hamelin. With my flute, I accomplished many things."
"The Pied Piper? Are you the one who led all the rats out of the town but wasn't paid? After which you took the children and disappeared. What happened to the children?" Vallynor was surprised, but his surprise quickly turned to curiosity.
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"Mmm? If memory serves, I sold them as materials to demons. Or used them as fertilizer for a forest where trees grew that later turned into oil and burned well... But maybe, I tortured and killed the children, then turned them into toys to give to their parents... Or something like that."
"You can stop there," Vallynor's perception of Fernando was changing. He had seen a jolly, joking guy devoted to music, but now recognized a sadist who relished the suffering of children. Vallynor couldn't judge him, not knowing the full story. Perhaps the children were irredeemable, and their parents were monsters.
"Ah?.. What a pity. I wanted to tell you how I made the children torture their parents and themselves. Though it's no longer important... Let's play instead. Music is honey to my ears, and I'm sure to yours as well."
Vallynor nodded and began to learn and play musical instruments alongside Fernando. The latter sang and leaped more than usual. At some point, Vallynor himself forgot Fernando's words and started smiling, playing with all his heart. Under the evening sun, long shadows stretched towards the house where Vallynor was.
***
Having left Fernando's home, Vallynor bid farewell and informed that he would be leaving tomorrow. Fernando, thoughtful, produced a book from his ring—a musical tome, asserting that there was nothing more precious he could offer. It is said that this book contains the works of his entire life.
Accepting the book, Vallynor felt a strange sensation upon touching it. He placed the book into his pocket dimension. Saying goodbye, he turned and teleported away.
Fernando closed the door and returned to the window. His gaze became vacant as he continued to look into the distance. At that moment, the reflection of the setting sun caressed his face, as if slightly concealing his secrets. The rays of the sun, playing in the colors of the sunset, seemed to weave ethereal threads around Fernando, creating an atmosphere of mystery and intrigue.
A soft melody began to play in the room, as if the wind were strumming the strings of an invisible guitar. Fernando, still at the window, absorbed each note, as if trying to decipher the hidden meaning of the music. It was hard to predict his emotions, but at that moment, something flashed in his eyes, reminiscent of the imprint of past memories.
And so, in this atmosphere of mystery and sounds, Fernando, like an artist of his inner world, continued to delve into the depths of his thoughts, finding in them an inexhaustible source of inspiration.
***
Having returned to his room, Vallynor reminisced about how he had managed to endure the training sessions with Riku and his wife. He had even managed to counterattack in complete darkness, feeling as though he could almost see through the darkness. Riku had asserted that there was room for growth, but a solid foundation had already been laid, which pleased Vallynor.
Before he could reach the center of the room, spirits of nature pounced on him, giggling and kissing his body like ardently affectionate concubines from a harem, imbued with aphrodisiacs. However, a shadow was cast over this moment by the curse of the God of Death.
Vallynor released a bit of his aura along with necrotic energy, calming the girls and even causing them to shiver. Necrotic energy is the natural enemy of all living things. Nevertheless, they were reluctant to let go. Deciding on a course of action, Vallynor extracted two seeds he had obtained from the Cursed Forest. Half of the spirits migrated into each seed, and the plants they inhabited instantly withered. Puzzled by what had happened, Vallynor returned the seeds, vowing not to conduct rash experiments with them again. He merely wanted to test their capabilities. At that moment, the room became quiet, only a faint air of mystery lingered, creating an atmosphere of magic and secrecy.
***
"Everything's ready," Alexander announced, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group before settling on Vallynor, who was clad in light armor beneath his black necromancer's cloak. The ensemble appeared somewhat incongruous. Fortunately, the cloak was rather loose, but this began to irritate Alexander.
Vallynor checked his gear, then closed his eyes, focusing on his spiritual platform. Specifically, on the rune forged from the soul of a time butterfly. After countless hours of training, he had begun to faintly, yet surely, grasp the meaning of this rune. Now, as part of a time artifact, the rune had transformed into a time rune.
Merely glancing at it sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of the pain he had almost brought to the level of soul destruction. Turning around, he saw everyone who had ever crossed his path, practically the entire town. Even Minker, who only thought about money, was present. Even those he barely knew were here. After bidding farewell to everyone, Alexander gave the command, and the company moved towards the coldest point of this world - north, where offspring of ice demons broke through snow and ice.
After the farewells, everyone dispersed, going about their business, leaving only Caesar, Gabriel, and Ashley. Gabriel looked at his daughter, his lips pressed together in anger, a curse against Vallynor echoing in his soul. Ashley remembered how she had managed to create a miracle - a legendary artifact beyond her wildest dreams.
Caesar scowled, shaking his head. Then, he struck Gabriel hard with his staff. Gabriel fell to the ground, writhing in pain. But after the second blow, he stopped writhing. "Stop lying around, idiot. Let's get started," said Caesar. Gabriel rose, clutching his blessing, and vanished.
Ashley ignored them, lost in thought about the strange sensations she felt. As if someone had torn a piece from her soul, leaving an emptiness inside. She looked at her feet as if she wanted to run but didn't know where. "Grandfather Caesar, what is this feeling inside me, like an emptiness, a black hole?" Ashley asked, looking in the direction Vallynor's group had gone.
Caesar replied that it was called love and, apparently, Ashley had fallen in love - for real, this time. "What?" she managed to say, a look of surprise on her face.
***
Racing with unimaginable speed, Vallynor recalled the moment when Alexander led him, Glazik, and Annino through certain events, holding them in his hand. He regretted that Annino had not yet awakened.
Vallynor was concerned for Annino's safety. After all, he had spent too much time in a coma, and his size and shape had significantly changed. Glazik had completely disappeared, as if he ceased to exist in this world. Shaking his head, Vallynor dismissed his thoughts and sped up, racing forward into uncharted territories.
In this swift run, every step Vallynor took seemed like a whirlwind, carrying him through temporal storms and spatial rifts. Beneath his feet, a trail of sparks left by his speed came to life, like a glowing path in the history he was traversing.
***
Having teleported, Caesar suddenly found himself in an immense room shrouded in darkness. With a snap of his fingers, he illuminated everything around him, revealing a spacious area spanning 3-4 kilometers. Various symbols and runes were etched into the stone ground. At the center of this vast expanse, a small group had gathered, among them Glazik, who flitted back and forth holding a massive stack of leaves. Had Vallynor seen this, he would have immediately recognized the leaves Caesar used for writing days on end.
Humans, beastmen, and other beings sat on the ground, working with special tools to alter the inscriptions on the floor. Glazik checked to ensure everything was done correctly, while Gabriel infused the symbols with his magic.
"Lord Caesar," everyone momentarily stopped to greet Caesar, except for Gabriel, who muttered curses under his breath while continuing to infuse the floor symbols with his magic.
"Back to work. We have little time," Caesar commanded.
Caesar scrutinized each symbol as if they were keys to sealed secrets. The light from his fingers played shadows and highlights on the ancient runes, adding a layer of mystery to the atmosphere. The room seemed to breathe with an aura of magic. Glazik, conserving her energy, carefully stacked the leaves, her eye sparkling in the light.
Gabriel, locking eyes with Caesar, seemed on the verge of saying something significant but then turned away, immersing himself again in his magical work. The air was filled with concentration and an invisible energy, ready to unravel in magical fiery whirls. In this room, where past and present collided, magic wove its invisible veil, lending each moment majesty and mystery.
***
Isda sat upon one of the moderate trees in the Cursed Forest, observing seriously and scanning her surroundings attentively. Her gaze followed every step taken by Vallynor and Alexander, accompanied by a large group, as they disappeared into the distance.
Forkas approached on foot, slowly nearing Isda. He casually stopped, directing his gaze at her back. From her emanated a cold and oppressive aura. To him, Isda seemed as if under Yena's control, her memories frozen, making her cold and enigmatic. However, the divine energy bursting from her shattered his assumptions.
This was indeed the Isda he loved. Yet, she was becoming different, alien in his eyes. When had this begun? Forkas knew the answer. From the moment Kasiel left this world. Even now, he couldn't discern if it was a lie or truth. He remembered how the golden light, filled with their lord's divine energy, surrounded Isda. After that, she began to change slowly.
"Forkas, what's the outcome?" Isda asked coldly, not taking her eyes off her target. Forkas remained silent for a long time, motionless.
"There are still many rough edges, but all will be rectified. The majority of the sentient ones waver, but they will succumb," Forkas replied, gazing at Isda's fragile back and recalling encounters with semi-sentient beings hiding in this world, waiting for their release from the curse.
"Excellent. There's still time. Once we rid ourselves of this annoying gnat, and indeed, of Alexander himself, it will be the final straw that makes the fools join our side," Isda stated, maintaining her cold gaze on the target.
***
Harnessing mana and necrotic energy within his body, Vallynor fortified his legs and cast a spell of acceleration. Many would think that two types of energy, such as mana and necrotic energy, should conflict. However, this is not the case. Instead, they are prepared to become one. After all, necrotic energy is a form of altered mana, akin to spoiled milk. Mana, on the other hand, is like fresh milk. But when mixed, the spoilage begins, rendering it unusable. Thus, mana and necrotic energy, when becoming one, start to interfere with each other if not properly managed and utilized.
There are tricks to completely convert mana into necrotic energy and vice versa. Yet, each spell is tailored to a specific type of energy. Vallynor, aware of this, did not allow the full merger of these two types of energy to become a reality. And so they continued their work. Rick often spoke about the importance of using every advantage, as did Edward himself. Thus, Vallynor shifted from necrotic energy to disguise himself as undead, approaching those who believed the necromancer to be far away. And the undead themselves were weak. Losing sight of them, he used mana to strengthen himself and destroy the enemy.
Right now, Vallynor was running alongside the rest, except, of course, for Alexander, who was ahead, killing all enemies. Then he harvested the souls of the enemies, so they couldn't find new bodies and resurrect, becoming obstacles again. Fortunately, most of them were weak and too foolish. Fallen souls, changing bodies, lost the instincts for proper body control. An example is a cat's soul in a human body, sitting on the ground, not knowing how to move, and falling with every movement. All because of differences in body structure, significantly different from the previous one.
Running without noticing fatigue, Vallynor saw Alexander stop and raise his hand, ordering everyone to halt. Vallynor stopped beside Alexander, who, smiling, said:
"Show us what you have achieved. Make us proud that we decided to make you our heir," Alexander said, pointing at the vast black army, like a sea, slowly approaching them.
The army of various beings slowly moved toward them. They looked like the undead, thirsting for flesh and blood. But Vallynor knew they were not undead, but the fallen. The army of the fallen, having united and sensed them, was heading straight for them, eager to devour their souls.