“It should be… around here…”
Leo muttered uncertainly as he reached down the edge of the cliff, seeking the touch of leaves that would emanate heat felt even through the leather of his gloves.
Scintilla, the mana plant he wished to find, was quite easy to spot. With bright orange leaves, a crimson red stem, and spark-like flowers, it was easily discerned from common shrubbery. Leo in particular, having performed numerous experiments with said plant, could spot it in an instant.
The only problem was, he was currently blindfolded.
With his injured eye already under bandages, Leo could’ve easily kept his eyes closed to the same effect. But he had not.
Instead, he had made use of the darkest cloth he could find and wrapped it several times over his eyes until he was as blind as a bat.
Why, you ask?
Well, that was how much he feared the thrall of the Forsaken Forest.
To this day, Leo would not forget what happened, when he had climbed up the city wall and naively stared down at the forest.
As a resident of Filament city, he had naturally heard the rumors, the tale of the bewitching forest, and the many tales of the cursed and forsaken who inhabited it. Tales of men and women who went mad at the sight of the forest, deciding to jump off the wall, set properties on fire, murder their friends and family, and commit other atrocities far too horrifying to mention.
While Leo had believed that the forest was definitely dangerous, some part of him had always been skeptical, especially over the so-called ‘thrall of the forest’.
There was no way, a half-dead forest, a collection of lifeless trees, could hold so much power over a person, right? To make respectable and decent people, become murderers and monsters over time?
Oh, Boy was he wrong.
Even at first glance, Leo had felt a strong sense of dread growing within his gut, as if he was seeing something he never should have, something that made his entire being shiver in fear, but... he just couldn’t bring himself to turn away.
The Forsaken Forest cast a haunting and eerie image.
While a few trees had a bit of green on them, the majority were gnarled and leafless, bare and twisted, their trunks a blackish-brown as if all life had been sucked out.
A thick fog wafted amidst their dead branches, obscuring most of what could be seen.
Then there was the sound, or rather, the distinct lack of it. No creature, animal, or bird called out, not even the fearsome monsters that were supposed to inhabit the forest.
But the strangest of all was the fog itself. The sea wind blew fiercely from the north, but the fog was not blown away. The afternoon sun blazed down onto the forest, and yet the fog did not dissipate.
It continued to persist, out of place, out of time.
As Leo continued to stare with morbid curiosity, unknowingly, he took a single step forward.
The city wall he was standing on was the only thing separating Filament City from the Forsaken Forest, holding back the denizens of the forest and what else may lurk within the fog.
It was a robust construction, a few hundred meters tall, halfway up to the Hope mountain range that spread evenly on either side of Filament City.
A fall from such a height would mean definite death. Even if he survived by some stroke of luck, having fallen into the cursed forest, it would have been an arguably worse fate.
Despite knowing this, he took a second step forward, and another and another, until he was at the very precipice of the wall, staring down with blank eyes.
If it hadn’t been for the quick action of the watchmen on the wall, who had pulled him back at the last moment, he very well would’ve taken the last step down.
Leo would never forget that feeling for as long as he lived. The sudden realization of how close he had been to death, how he had almost killed himself, unknowingly.
That... was the thrall of the forsaken forest. The silent devil that lurked in the fog, tempting one to commit the unthinkable.
All that was needed was a single glance, and the untrained mind would be enthralled.
Leo never returned to the wall, the terror of that one experience burned into his memory.
It would have taken some phenomenal reason to make him risk the thrall of the forsaken forest again.
Yes, something truly important, something like his alchemical research.
And that was exactly why Leo was currently on the Hope mountain range, sprawled on the ground before a precipice far deadlier than the city wall, his hands blindly searching the edges.
The forsaken forest was just below him, and only the blindfold protected him from its thrall.
Despite his heart racing in fear at the thought, Leo continued to feel for the leaves. This was the last herb needed, and he had no intention of giving up halfway.
Sensing nothing but the slimy slip of the green moss that was common to the Forsaken Forest, Leo was just about to search elsewhere, when the edge of one outstretched finger barely brushed against a single leaf causing a searing warmth in his glove.
“Found it!” he uttered in a mixture of relief and celebration.
But his relief was short-lived, as he had felt the Scintilla leaf in an area to the far right of his current location. He would have to move.
Taking a deep breath and holding tightly onto the ground, he started to shuffle to the side, well aware that one slip could risk him falling into the cursed forest.
Hoping that he had moved enough, Leo reached down the cliff.
Thankfully, he was able to find the warmth of the leaves in an instant.
Re-adjusting the leather gloves that were now slick with sweat, he began to harvest the fire herb. Grasping onto the stem with both hands, Leo skilfully uprooted the herb with minimal damage to the roots and packed it away into the satchel by his side.
The objective of gathering the required herbs was now complete. All he had to do now was not fall.
Careful, so as not to lose balance, Leo started to shuffle backward along the ground.
He winced in pain as the rock-hard ground scratched him through the thin material of his clothes.
Standing up was an option, but considering that he was blindfolded and so close to the edge, he couldn’t risk falling.
Biting his lips through the pain, Leo continued to shuffle backward until he felt he was a safe distance away from the precipice. Standing up with a wince, he quickly turned around, turning his back on the Forsaken Forest.
His heartbeat was loud, as if it would break out of his chest.
“I--I can’t believe it. I stared right at the forest... and survived! I even got the last herb. This--this was nothing like the last time when I didn’t even get to reach the precipice, and just happened to find a hunter who had done most of the work for me...”
The hunter in question was, highly probably, another victim who had fallen to the thrall of the Forsaken Forest. Leo had found him on this very same cliff, staring in the direction of the forest with blank eyes, his hands still on the knife entrenched deep within his heart.
Leo had been shocked of course, but corpses weren’t all that rare on Filament Island. And once the initial surprise wore off, the hunter’s satchel untouched by blood had become rather enticing in his eyes.
Only after foraging and claiming the random assortment of mana herbs in it for himself, had he left an anonymous tip with the City Guards about the unburied body.
Obviously, keeping silent was the more intelligent choice. It would have brought no suspicion onto him, nor would he risk Sister Gillian finding out. But for reasons he’d rather not get into at the moment, Leo was extremely thankful to that nameless hunter.
He could not have, in good conscience, left that man’s corpse to rot in this godforsaken place, even if it meant getting himself in trouble.
Shaking his head out of the past, Leo started to remove the blindfold allowing him to see once more, albeit only with one eye.
Now that he was truly safe and in the clear, the sheer audacity of what he had just done crashed upon him.
The Forsaken Forest was a nightmare that claimed hundreds of lives each year. Playing around with it was suicide. Not to mention the fact that the Hope mountain range was a forbidden area. While it was not strictly enforced by the guards since no sane person dared to enter the mountains, it was still law. If Sister Gillian were to find out...
Leo shuddered. This was not something the ordinarily cautious him would’ve done under any circumstance. He half-shouted in disbelief, “I can’t f*cking believe I did that! What the hell was I thinking?! W-What if I had taken the last step--”
Hands shivering, Leo reached for the pendant tucked under his shirt. As he felt the cool and reliable stone in his hands, he started to calm down.
“But I didn’t. I made it, and I got what I wanted, so it’s fine,” Leo concluded in an attempt to rationalize. He had known the risks, and he still came here, because he couldn’t bear to live an ordinary, insignificant life without magic.
Tightening his grip on the pendant, he steeled his mind. It wasn’t over yet. The ingredients were in his hands but he still had to get it to work.
Eyes shining with anticipation, Leo fell into thought.
Since using wards was no longer feasible, the full power of the explosion would have to be released. The Hope mountain range was as good a place as any.
Looking around, Leo spotted a familiar clearing just a short distance away. There was little that could fuel an out-of-control fire. It was far enough from the Forsaken Forest so he couldn’t see it and the thrall was ineffective, but close enough that he could throw away any failed jars.
Basically, it was perfect.
However, it was then that Leo realized this was the same clearing where that hunter had ended his life.
Under ordinary circumstances, he would’ve been quite uncomfortable experimenting on the site of a suicide. But this was different.
To him, it felt almost poetic, to complete his research where it all started.
Despite the nervousness and fear that had weighed him down only a moment before, a grin of excitement crept onto his face.
It was finally time for the main act. It was time to do some explosive alchemy.
***
Leo narrowed his right eye as he examined the apparatus before him with careful scrutiny for the millionth time. His one-eyed gaze shifted through the various layers starting from the base and ending at the top.
A small jar of dragon glass with even proportions to act as the container, washed with holy hearth water ‘borrowed’ from Father Augustine’s private cellar.
The modified sigil for the Fireball spell engraved on the bottom of the jar with a simple magical forging knife.
At the base, a layer of crushed Scintilla stem and leaves spread over the glass, to ease the starting of elemental fire.
Above it, a liquid layer of Oleum trunk extract, to act as fuel for the fire from below.
A layer of gelatinous dead fire slimes, a commonly used mana fuel, floats above the Oleum extract, glowing with a faint orange hue.
A thin piece of circular steel fit to the proportions of the jar is fixed above the slime layer, to contain all the layers below.
At the very center, a layer of empty space filled with nothing but ordinary air.
An identical piece of circular steel is fixed above it, to maintain the air layer.
A second layer of gelatinous fire slimes, floats atop the circular steel piece.
A second layer of liquid Oleum trunk extract, floats above the slime gel.
At the very top, a final layer of crushed Scintilla stem and leaves are spread generously, filling the jar to the brim.
In addition, globules of crushed Ignisects, Scintilla flowers, and Calidi leaves are placed across the various layers, seemingly at random.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Finally, the jar is sealed tightly with a metallic lid, on which the basic sigil for the Fireball spell is engraved once more.
The empty air layer at the center almost acted like a mirror, with the layers above and below it being exact reflections of each other.
Everything was as it should be, but Leo continued to ponder over the basic theory once more.
The Fire slime gel acted as the mana source, while the Oleum trunk extract acted as an ordinary fuel. The Scintilla leaves and stem served to support the conversion of ordinary fire into one of magical means by supplying elemental fire energy.
The globules of Ignisects, a rather common insect with innate fire, Scintilla flowers, and Calidi leaves, were placed so as to coincide with the engraving of the Fireball sigil. A small trick he had picked up from his occasional dabbling in Mana Forging.
But there was nothing particularly special about any of these ingredients. Even if they were set ablaze together, such a mixture would at best only be as strong as an ordinary fireball.
The true genius of Leo’s apparatus lay in the layer of empty air at the center and the mirroring of layers above and below it.
Leo had discovered that the presence of approximately equivalent spell-like energies in short proximity within a closed system, caused the space between the two spells to glow with a faint white light.
The light was so faint, that he had not noticed it the first few times. Even when he finally did, he had believed that everybody could see it. But with time, he soon realized that this was an undocumented and unusual phenomenon.
Attempts to point it out to his ‘betters’ always ended in failure. They directly refused the presence of any such light, suggesting that he might be seeing things.
Whether it be out of the actual inability to see the light, or out of sheer disdain that they did not even attempt to humor him, Leo was not sure. All he knew was, their eyes of haughty confidence strongly suggested the latter.
Even Emilia, Ophelia, Edward, and Bell, said the same, gazing at him with the eyes of pity that he hated even more.
But he always saw it, and he just knew that it was not ordinary.
Refusing to bow down to the general consensus, Leo decided to conduct some experiments with the intention of proving himself.
However, while the light did appear on multiple tests, it constantly remained inert to his poking and prodding. He almost gave up, but stuck to it out of sheer stubbornness. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do either.
In the end, it was the random spark of a match falling into the white light and causing an unusually strong explosion, that proved the existence of the white light.
Obviously, Leo had placed matches and candles within the light many times before. But apparently, what caused the light to react was the errant spark that flew out in the process of lighting the match.
Leo was relieved and overjoyed to find out that he wasn’t imagining things. He was right and they were wrong! But what made him the most ecstatic was the magic-like quality of that explosion.
Using magical materials to cast magic was not a novelty. It had been discovered and cast aside by the magical community as lesser magic. The inefficiency, inaccuracy, and the high cost of materials, indeed made it so.
However, if Leo were to use the mysterious white light to amplify the sparks, he could cover most of those problems, possibly even exceeding the power of ordinary magic.
It was at this moment that his stubborn desire to prove himself, evolved into a hopeful project to grant the crippled him the power of magic.
Over several years of testing, tweaking, and assimilating with the little magical theory he was able to learn, he finally created a working prototype.
For some reason, the strange white light only reacted to sparks. This was why Leo required Scintilla, commonly referred to as the Sparking Mana Herb, in considerable quantities. Obviously, it also limited him to fire magic, leading him to choose the basic fireball spell for his work.
And in the end, the “Fireball in a Jar” was born.
If Leo’s experiments were to be believed, the faint white light would act roughly as a 10x multiplier.
The explosion in the orphanage that annihilated an entire room confirmed its firepower, but since it had been set off on accident, Leo refused to consider it as a success.
After all, just a large explosion could not be considered magic.
However, if this attempt worked… he could confidently accept that this was a brand new style of magic.
While it relied on the properties of magical material instead of mana, it easily overwhelmed ordinary magic in terms of power and casting speed.
It was a class of magic built for himself. Even if it was limited in certain ways, it was still revolutionary, with the potential to change the world of magic!
Equal parts excited as he was nervous, Leo retreated out of the clearing and crouched behind a jutting rock. He was now closer to the Forsaken Forest, but with just his back facing it, he was safe from its thrall.
Butterflies dancing in his stomach, Leo raised his right hand and directed the palm towards the jar in the clearing. Squinting his eyes in concentration, he muttered the spell for a fireball under his breath, “Gini bola.”
Hopeful, he awaited the resounding explosion.
But why was Leo, who was apparently ‘magic’-less, expecting his spell to work?
Well, even though every healer that had examined him would disagree, Leo hoped, no, he knew that he was not ‘magic’-less but rather, ‘mana’-less. Basically, he didn’t have mana, the energy required to cast a spell.
So, if the energy was supplied externally, surely he could cast the spell?
That was indeed what Leo had hoped, but unfortunately, magic was neither that straightforward nor simple. Not one of his experiments in this regard had been successful.
It sounded correct in theory, but it just didn’t work. He could only conclude that something that couldn’t be replicated was happening unseen, every time a spell was cast.
As a result, his interest shifted into the fields of Mana crafting and Ward creation.
Mana crafting made use of engraved sigils to artificially imbue the power of spells into weapons and other tools, while Wards utilized magic that relied on external sources of mana, instead of the caster’s personal mana.
If Leo could combine these two fields, theoretically speaking, he could create something that worked even for him.
Still, being considered a cripple, Leo didn’t have anyone to learn from. He could only analyze the wards of the orphanage and the occasional broken magical tool that was thrown into the street. Even then, he couldn’t exactly use or activate them in the way an ordinary mage could.
Amidst all of these obstacles, he only made a little progress, but it was progress none-the-less.
With a few broken rules, a couple of magic books from his fellow orphans going missing and a whole lot of hard work, he finally modified the basic fireball sigil into what he needed.
Leo’s modified sigil could be used as usual, with the uttering of the spell, but instead of taking mana from the caster, it would use the holy hearth water to start up by itself.
The various layers of fuel and mana fuel in the jar would supply the energy needed by the sigil to form the fireball.
Then, the mysterious white light would multiply the fireball by a dozen times, creating a massive fireball that would put ordinary mages to shame.
At least, this was what Leo hoped would happen.
If it worked, every minute he had sweated over this project, his pain, every insult, every wound, would’ve been worth it.
It would open a brand new world for him. One where he could finally stand tall.
But if it didn’t...
Almost a minute had passed since he had cast the spell. Leo stared in despair at the jar that had not exploded.
Forcing a laugh, he stuttered, “No, n-no, no, this must be a mistake. I p-probably didn’t do it right.”
Jumping out from behind the rock, no longer caring for his safety, he raised both palms towards the jar and uttered the spell once more, louder and forceful than before, “Gini Bola!”
But there was no explosion.
He roared in anger, even going so far as to cite the spiritual, “Work damn it! By the holy f*cking hearth, Gini Bola!”
But there was no explosion.
Leo collapsed onto his knees, hopelessness, and doubt threatening to break the walls he had built up.
“Was I wrong? Am I truly magicless? Were they right all along? Was I wasting my time? Is there truly no hope?”
As if grasping for one last lifeline, his hands reached for the pendant around his neck. The cool stone felt reliable and solid in his hands, washing away his worries and allowing him to calm down.
Taking deep breaths, in and out, Leo closed his eyes. For that single moment, only he and the stone pendant existed.
With a relaxed and focused mind, he visualized the fireball sigil and the jar.
Leo re-opened his eyes.
This time, he was confident. A small grin dancing on his lips, he started to cast the spell, “Gini Bol---”
*Schwik*
But he was forced to stop halfway.
‘What? What was that? A-and, why does it hurt?’
Leo stared down at his chest. A rapier-like sword had been stabbed clean through his chest. Blood had started to seep out, dying his shirt red.
‘I was stabbed? No, no, no, this is a joke right?’
From behind him, a disembodied man's voice spoke weakly, “For my family, for my clan, for my people, I sully my honor. Beast King of Pride and Valor, our hatred ends here.”
Confused and clueless, reaching for the blade through his heart, Leo hissed in pain, “I-I don’t understand. I’m not any king, I’m not anything! I’m just a crippled orphan!”
The voice continued, in an almost sad tone, “Perhaps for now. But the blood of the pride flows in you, while the blood of the Valor... is hidden? Strange, quite strange.
Still, I am confident of your identity as the Beast King. Surely, no ordinary human could talk and remain standing, with a blade deep in his heart?”
‘Pride? Valor? Not ordinary? So why the hell can’t I cast even a simple spell?’
A plethora of questions rushed through Leo’s mind, there was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to scream, but when he spoke, it was only one word.
“W-Why?”
A heavy sigh, “This shameless one cannot hope to defeat you in your prime, so this is what I have to stoop to…
Beast King, I hope your soul finds peace, for surely mine will not.”
With those final words, the voice stopped, and his presence disappeared. Even without turning back, Leo knew his murderer had passed. Whoever he was, he had paid the price to kill him.
But Leo felt no joy knowing this.
What purpose was revenge, if everyone died?
He didn’t even wonder about the specificities of a disembodied voice that could stab him.
He just felt broken and hopeless.
He had been so close, so close to success, so close to achieving his dream, so close to proving them wrong, but then this happened.
Some crazy man from nowhere, spouting nonsense, stabbed him in the heart.
‘F*ck! Why had I expected anything different? I should’ve known that nothing could go right for me…’
Despair and dejection weighed over him.
In fact, Leo could almost see it, draping him and his surroundings in perpetual darkness.
‘Wait, what? No, this isn’t metaphoric despair, it’s an actual shadow! Something’s above me! Am I saved?’
Raising his head with a hint of hope, Leo barely saw the deadly talons reaching out for him. The sharp nails pierced into his shoulders, causing him to scream in pain.
Almost instantly, a gust of wind blew down as the creature started to fly off with him, the rapier still entrenched in his heart.
‘No, not saved. More like dinner. *Sigh* From crippled orphan to monster food, what a story.’
As the blood seeped out of his many wounds, Leo felt his life leaving him. His vision blurred, his eyes threatening to close forever.
'Perhaps this is my fate. Once, I did wish for death. I’ll get it soon enough. At the very least, I can rest now.’
Just when Leo was about to give in to the sweet embrace that he would not return from, he sensed a familiar presence on his neck.
A single stone pearl.
Reliable, cool, solid, and eye-opening.
‘No, No, No, No! I might be a cripple, I might be an orphan, I might be fated to die here, but I WILL NOT BE MONSTER CHOW!’
With the terrifying will-power one could harness when they have accepted death, Leo reached out to the jar in the clearing.
He could almost see it within his mind’s eye.
The jar he had ‘borrowed’, the sigils he had engraved, the air layer at the very center, the layers mirroring above and below.
Eyes brimming with hope, he forced out two words.
“Gini Bola.”
And everything went red.
***
Amid the fogs of the Forsaken Forest, a slender fellow with a rather pointy nose sits upon a rotten log whistling a jovial tune.
Donning a set of dirty green rags that may have passed as noble attire once upon a time, and a blindingly shiny helmet of gold with two unusually large curved horns protruding outwards, he was a real sight to see.
Slightly swaying to the tune, he pokes the crackling fire before him with a stick, causing the flames to rise and sparks to fly out.
Momentarily, his whistling gives way to soft singing, his hands beating against the log in a surprisingly catchy beat. Alas, his voice is horribly hoarse, as if he had forgotten how to speak and it was only now coming back to him.
“Was just minding my business, when suddenly, time shifted and everything went boom! Boom! Boom! Flames sparking everywhere, a burned boy fell off the cliff!”
“Was just minding my business, when suddenly, I saw one! A Scholar! Yes, a Shattered Scholar!”
His feet start to tap in a supporting beat as he continues.
“Surprisingly, it was a Surprised Scholar! Hah! Had not expected, not expected, a stab to the heart.”
“Dragon in hand, heard him curse, curse the death of their property! Heard him curse, curse the gods on the side for the failure!”
“In the end, he did the next best thing. With eyes of gold, he let the dragon loose, flying who knows where.
And then he left.”
His voice gains a hint of excitement, as he drops the stick and claps loudly.
“And then he left! He left, leaving the ‘dead’ boy in my hands! The Property of the Scholars, in my slippery hands!”
“As they say fortune favors the bold, and well, boldly did I act!
With eyes of gold, I threw a Centaur's heart, saving the boy, unaware of fate twisting...”
Almost conveniently, the fog before him clears. The fire lights up the area, revealing two hulking creatures feeding on something.
One, a three-headed wolf gorging on the soul with its fang-filled maws, and the other, a robed figure draped in black, guzzling blood with its mysterious red hands.
The flames flicker and their horrifying meal comes to light. They are feeding on a young boy, or rather, the bright green light flowing over his body.
Similar to men who may chew noisily, they feed hungrily and audibly, causing strange inhuman noises to ring out.
The singing man is ignored, their complete focus on consuming more of the green light than the other. One might even assume they weren’t aware of his presence, had it not been for the occasional hateful glance by the three-headed wolf.
The young boy struggles, his face scrunched up in pain, quite reasonable considering that he is being consumed by two literal monsters.
The horned man, unsurprised by the revelation of the monstrous creatures, and unmoved by the struggles of the boy, continues his song, “The boy lived, but must be getting rusty cause I didn’t think it through. The boy lived, but the heart summoned these two fellows.
One fed, two fed! One fed, and the second followed! One fed, two fed!
Death’s bony fingers reached out, the boy was about to pass, but the Centaur's heart chased them away, and the boy shone brighter than ever before.
And now, here we are.
Twice, blessed or cursed, the boy is no longer just a boy.”
“Life and Death, Moon and Sun, Soul and Blood, Power and Cunning, Forsaken and Cursed, Werewolf and Vampire. A match that shouldn’t have been possible, lies before me. No idea why, many ideas how...” he finishes his song, uncertain.
A nonchalant shrug as he glances at the two creatures feeding with morbid curiosity, “Eh, it’s interesting at least, beats being bored. I should be able to work with this.”
Wondering out loud, “I’ve heard about the numerous Shattered Projects. Being somewhat of a scholar myself, as evident by the successful specimen before me, it would be wise to name this as well.”
“How about, Project Were...pire?” but he shook his head almost immediately.
Brows furrowing, “Project Vamp...wolf? No.”
He falls into thought.
The sounds of the feeding beasts and their occasional growls grow louder in his silence. The fire fizzles out without his attention, and one last spark jumps out.
Suddenly, his eyes widened in realization, “I’ve got it!”
With a toothy grin, he utters two words, “Project Vaewolf!”
***