The crowd that had been watching the fight was in an uproar, talking amongst themselves about the results. There were some arguments about paying up on the bets they had made on the match as well. Out of the whole crowd, there was one man who remained silent, staring at Zycor. He began to walk towards the boy who still laid on the ground.
Zycor finally managed to sit up, still being scolded by Liz while Baz was being scolded by Mylon. They were interrupted by the man clearing his throat before he spoke, “Pardon me for interrupting, but I have something I would like to ask.”
He seemed to be on the older side, maybe in his late fifties or early sixties. He was missing his right leg and walked with a cane. His black hair had begun to become lighter in color, with streaks of gray already visible. With mounting curiosity, Zycor replied, “You may…”
The man adjusted his unique coat that sported a gray and white plaid pattern and began, “I wish to start by saying how much I enjoyed your fight. But something you did caught my attention. After you put up that ice wall, I saw you coat your hand with lightning. Could you perhaps have been trying to mimic a glove or gauntlet?”
Zycor’s eyes widened, “You know what I was trying to do?!”
“Of course I know.” The man chuckled, fire erupting where his leg should have been, solidifying into a leg made of fire, “That is something I know how to do as well.”
He then removed his cane from the ground and stood on the artificial leg of fire.
Baz was taken aback while Mylon and Liz looked on with fascination. “How does that work?!” Liz questioned enthusiastically.
The man brought his cane back to the ground while the fire dissipated. He began to explain, “It is an application of combination magic. Those who can use it call it ‘hard magic’ due to the magic solidifying into something that rivals some of the stronger materials in the world.”
“Combination magic? Do you know what that is, Mylon?” Baz asked.
Mylon, who expected that response, replied, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you ignored me every time we talked about it. Put simply, it is using two different magics together to create a different magic that is not naturally accessible.”
Liz interjected, posing, “But if that is the case, then what magic would combine with fire or lightning to give that effect?”
The man smirked, looking at Zycor, and answered, “Gravity magic, young lass.”
Baz put his hand up, confidently saying, “Now I know I have not heard of that before.”
“You… would be correct, specifically because that is the stuff of legend, like healing magic. The only reason anyone even knows about either of those is because of the national artifacts the strongest nations employ. No one has been able to use those magics since ‘the Calamity’.” Mylon commented in disbelief.
Baz sighed, “This is why I don’t like magic, it is so complicated. The complete opposite of muscle and strength, something you can always count to be consistent.”
Zycor, losing the conversation, asked, “What is this ‘Calamity’?”
“You really are hopelessly lost without me around to explain these things to you, aren’t you?!” Aisha exclaimed.
Zycor felt a shiver go down his spine as he questioned, “H-hey Aisha, how long have you been there?”
Aisha slightly cocked her head and said, “I just got here, why?”
“NO REASON!” Zycor cried, unable to contain his anxiety and worry.
Aisha was taken aback a bit, but brushed it off as typical ‘Zycor shenanigans’ and moved on. She took a deep breath and began, “To answer your question, the Calamity, in short, was an event where the evil god Itzal broke free temporarily of the seal put on him by the goddess Alice. When he broke free, he cursed Alice and sent a wave of corruption over the land which caused the massive Hundred Year War, created the demi-humans, and, pertinent to this conversation, erased a handful of magics from the world.”
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“That is the official record at least.” The man interjected.
Aisha looked back at him then back to the group and asked, “Who’s the old guy?”
Zycor shrugged, “Not sure, he seems to know something about my gravity magic.”
Aisha did a double take, and making sure she was not losing her mind, asked for clarification, “Wait, did you say gravity magic?!”
Mylon jumped in, “You knew you had it!? AND DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?!”
Zycor shrugged again, “It didn’t seem relevant?”
Liz, Mylon and Aisha stared at him in utter shock. The man chortled, “Haha, it is always funny to see the world view of people shattered when presented with the fact that the written history is not all there! Anyways, I do suppose introductions are in order.” He rested both of his hands on the cane he centered in front of him, continuing, “My name is Lathal, I am a former rank one adventurer and another wielder of gravity magic and practitioner of hard magic.”
Aisha, nearly having her heart stop, blurted, “There are two people with gravity magic!?”
“My dear, there are more others than just me. We actually formed a little group of people who can use gravity magic. We all use, practice and develop hard magic.” Lathal chuckled again, finding the situation hilarious.
Aisha began to laugh hysterically until she finally passed out, her body caught by Mylon. Setting her down, Mylon asked, “So, you made it to rank one, so that means you are incredibly strong, right?”
Lathal grinned intimidatingly and queried, “Well, what do you think?”
Mylon visibly began to sweat and nodded, “I-I think my assumption is correct. I meant no disrespect, I was just curious what someone like you was doing out here.”
Lathal eased his presence and let out a soft chuckle, “No need to be so nervous boy! To answer your question, I am out here because I was looking for a place to live a peaceful life to practice and have fun with my magic. Being an adventurer was fun, but it lost its charm after some time.
Zycor’s eyes lit up and bubbled, “Hey hey, Mr. Lathal, could you maybe teach me how to use hard magic and maybe some ways to better use my magic?!”
Lathal began to muse, “It has been quite some time since I have met someone so eager and enthusiastic to learn about magic. I am also surprised to see someone so young having gravity magic. I suppose I could spare some time to help you while you are here, it might be fun to have an apprentice.”
Zycor stumbled to his feet and gave a proper thank you, “It is and honor to learn from you, Mr. Lathal!”
Lathal cackled, “My oh my, in all my years I do not think I have had anyone be this formal about thanking me for my assistance!”
Nalea, watching from a distance as she typically does, comments to Aislin, “It seems Sir Zycor is about to grow even stronger.”
Aislin rolled her eyes, “When isn’t he. Honestly, he never did comprehend the phrase ‘take a break.’”
-
In the very south-eastern part of the continent lies the kingdom of Swebia, a heavily militaristic kingdom with a great emphasis on knightly honor and high society customs. At the very southern end of Swebia lies a massive gate with massive walls acting as the dividing line between the major kingdoms and the lost continent. Many abominations more vile and corrupt than those of the standard monster one would normally encounter live there. This is believed to be due to the influence of Itzal’s power seeping through the seal that lay out in the lost continent.
Overlooking the seal on a high cliff was a cathedral. Those who are stationed there are the strongest members of the church, named ‘Arch-humans,’ tasked with overseeing the protection of the seal. However, they are currently faced with a being even they are incapable of dealing with.
“W-why are you doing this!? Don’t you know what we are doing here?!” One of the Arch-humans shouted in confusion.
The man walked to the Arch-human and looked down at him. Dressed well and missing his right arm, Mr. X sadistically responded, “Why of…course I know.”
After his answer, multiple black spikes sprang up out of the ground, impaling the Arch-human numerous times. The spikes, dripping with blood and black ooze, began to retract slowly as he turned his attention to the leader of the church as a whole, the pope. He was injured, but refused to give in to Mr. X.
“There is no winning for you, especially if you open that seal!” The pope exclaimed.
Mr. X raised his left hand as he began to channel death magic. “What a waste… of final words.”
The pope, defeated, lamented, “How unfortunate the world is, that someone as blind as you is marching down a path as dangerous as this.”
Before he could say more, Mr. X ended his life. He chuckled, “Now that is… more like it.”