Originally uploaded Aug 1, 2023

Lucas Wykes Pov

The stagnant air of the dwarven caves gave off an unpleasant smell and sensation. I could smell the various metals and the stench of something I couldn't quiet put my fingers on. But it was still better than spending days in the aether orb, being beaten to death over and over again.

I lost count of how many times I have died. Having my lungs crushed from the inside, have blades of wind sharp as swords cut into my skin as I erupted into a bloody pulp. Death felt only like the end goal, it was only a way in which pain was transmitted and ended.

"Lucas." Cynthia called out to me. Her face was obscured by her large deep purple robes. Omens and runes of protection lined the robe. Similar to the one I was given. Which was a deep forest green. I felt myself jump in reaction to her voice. While Grey was the one who first started my so called training. She was the one that took over.

I never knew the former director of an academy for children could be so... ruthless. I knew she was quiet old for a human, but it made me question what kind of life she had lived through to be capable of such things without a hint of remorse.

"What?" I asked, trying not to let my fear show. Who could blame me, she was the one who had slaughtered me mercilessly for what felt like a couple of years. I was surprised I still had my mind intact.

"Remember your orders." Cynthia sternly replied. Yes, Grey's orders. To minimize causality and to be efficient in taking over the underground city. For what purposes he had planned for taking over Darv I did not know. Perhaps he truly was planning on conquering all of Dicathen, and was using this war as a opportunity to make himself king. But whatever plan he had Cynthia seemed to fully support it. Even treating him like one would be a king or master.

While I had reluctantly joined Grey's cause. I was more forced into it than anything. But she fully believe and trusted him. Listening to his orders like some lapdog. It was revolting, she was one of the few people I originally held some level of respect for. But for her to bend the knee so easily just because Grey was strong.

But Grey also did promise me something. The chance for me to surpass even my brother who was one of the strongest mages on this continent. To go beyond what even a Lance was capable of. I didn't have a full grasp of Grey's own strength, but from what I have seen he was at least on the level of my brother. Hell, even his bloodlust and aura was stronger than his.

"You don't have to remind me." I spat back at the old grandma. I was the most talented individual in any given room. I was the center of attention, the strongest mage. If not by then, with enough time I could surpass anyone. But here I was just anther mage for them. Even Elijah and his odd black crystal like magic was a counter to my fire. But it mattered not, I will not be in such a position for much longer. I have already broken into light silver, and soon I would reach the white core stage. Reaching such a mana core stage was nearly unheard of outside of the Lances. With such power I will break free from Grey's grasps. I'll find my own freedom and return.

And by then I shall show my family and my brother my true power. They will see me for who I truly am. For what I am truly capable of. I will no longer be the second-rate son they look at with disappointment. I finally live up to our family name. And when I do...

The entire cave system shook, interrupting my thoughts. A wave of dust stormed from the far end of the tunnel. Cover the entire area in a blanket of fine dust and rocks. The people down below all exclaimed in shock, the guards fruitlessly tried to maintain order. Shouting orders and for everyone to remain calm, but their facial expressions betrayed them.

Fire mana coalesced at the tip of my staff, a bright orange-red flame came to life. Condensing more more mana the fire grew larger and brighter. Just as I was about to unleash my spell a strong gust of wind snuffed it out. Creating a temporary vacuum around my staff.

"We are here to conquer. Not to exterminate." Cynthia reprimanded. I could see her own mana gather around her neck and face as she projected her voice loudly over the people.

"Residents of Darv. We are here to subjugate your city. Stand down if you want to avoid bloodshed." Her voice rang clearly and many of the guards and people looked up at the source of the noise.

The soldiers didn't seem to respond all to kindly to our deal. They were shouting orders to each other as they brandished their own weapons. Several guards were rushing back to the city to call for reinforcements, while all the civilians cried out in fear and began to flee. Creating an even bigger ruckus.

"Geez, good job." I sarcastically remarked as I strengthened my own body with mana. Cynthia only shrugged in response as she motioned for the ancient mage warriors to follow us.

Cynthia gently floated both of us down with her wind magic, while our own troops blinked into existence below. They numbered in at only a hundred soldiers. But Arthur had reassured us that they would be enough to deal with any potential threat. I wasn't quiet sure, from just the air they gave off they were undoubtedly strong but only a hundred?

The dwarven soldiers quickly got into formation, in the distance I could already see a flock of guards rushing towards us to aid their comrades. I stretched my neck, it has been a while since I fully let loose.

"We just need to deal with them right?" I asked Cynthia as flames engulfed my entire body, wrapping me in an armor of fire.

Cynthia did not respond, instead she unleashed a powerful gale of wind. It raced towards the first line of dwarves like a giant blade. And in a instant their first ranks all dropped dead, their heads all missing.

Cynthia looked back at me with a devilish smile, "Keep up, boy."

I smirked in return. The entire tunnel brightened. A giant ball of fire akin to a small sun came crashing down on the rest of the dwarves. Reducing them in a bubbling mess.

"I can say the same for you, old hag." I shot back as I readied myself for the fast approaching dwarves that were now rushing towards us from the city.

Having trained with Grey and Cynthia I had lost the grasp of their strength. Especially Grey, he was a complete monster. A true living demon. I have seen my own brother train and battle, and he wasn't even comparable to Grey's true colors. The man seemed like the god-like beings described in fairy tales and myths. Capable of bending the very world around them to do their biding.

But dealing with these normal mages also showed just how far I have come myself. I was only at the later stages of silver core but my casting speeds and mana reserves already rivaled white core mages. Whether I liked it or not, Grey has boosted my strength just as he said he would.

The new group of guards now fell into line. But they were different from the dwarves wwe had just faced. They were darker armor, their front ranks all conjured various shields made from different type of mana. I could even make out some of them with horns growing from their heads.

"Alacryans." Cynthia said with shock.

"To think they have already weaseled their way here." She continued as the wind around her thrashed around in rage.

So, Grey was right huh. Darv has already fallen into the Alacryan's hands. Cynthia ordered our own troops to advance. And they did, with each step perfectly in-sync with each other as they did. Some of them wielded shields and sword, while others brandished large glaives. All of their weapons have runes of gold and amethyst purple decorating them, humming with an alien energy.

One of the horned Alacryans, presumably their leader shouted orders as their line began to advance. Their shielders in front preparing to block of our attack as a row of conjurers behind them began to launch a volley of multicolored spells.

But the ancient mages paid no mind to their attack. Their armor was more than enough to shrug of their attacks as they clashed with the shields. Their weapons glowed an ethereal purple as they began cutting through their mana-based defenses. Effortlessly cleaving through their front line the rest of the Alacryans began to panic.

Falling back into disarray, while their leader continued shouting at the top of their lungs trying to maintain order. Wanting to spare him the effort I point my index finger at him. From the tip of my finger a small pale fireball shot forward. Exploding into a large cloud of fire and smoke as it came into contact with the Alacryan general. His screams were deafened by the flames burning him alive.

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Even with their leader dead some of the Alacryans held their ground, retreating while pointing their weapons at us. While the our own warriors advanced forward, slowly but surely. Dealing with any stragglers along the way.

It seemed almost unfair, these basic Alacryans were outmatched by these ancient mages. It was just an one-sided slaughter.

Cynthia appeared next to me. With an expression of satisfaction marking her face. I knew she had some ties to Alacrya but I didn't think she would gain such enjoyment killing them. Even I felt a tinge of sorrow and pity for them right now.

"Keep moving. We shall push them back to the city." Cynthia said as she continued walking, allowing the Djinn warriors to march in front of her, dealing with any opposition the dwarves and Alacryans had.

I pondered if this was the right way to go about this. While I was no stranger to murder this felt different. The indifference everyone felt. The justification of it all just because this was war. I hadn't expected Grey to be just a cold person, his Arthur persona always felt like a goody-to-shoes. I wonder which was the true face, and which one was the mask he wore.

But it didn't matter now, he has promised he strength and new opportunities and he has done just that. With time I will break free from his grasps myself.

Elijah Pov

The Djinn warriors clashed with the Alacryans. Mana shields flickered as their weapons struck each other. Arcs of purple lightning rained down from the sky, sending multiple soldiers flying in different directions.

Fire seemingly made of shadows jumped from one of the Alacryan's hands. Melting through the Djinn's armor, but not before the Djinn cut them down. I willed the earth around me, as a makeshift castle of stone erected itself. Providing our side with cover and a better vantage point.

Couple of the Djinn soldiers brandished long barrel-like weaponry. They pulled a small trigger near the end and a bolt of energy shot out from the end. Blasting through mana and flesh alike.

My staff hummed with mana, as hundreds of sharp spikes of stone rained down from the cavern ceiling. Many of the Alacryan's casted shields of their own, or rushed under their comrade's own spells.

But the horned Vritra born man just floated their. A transparent barrier of mana clung to him as he observed me. This deep red eyes gave me an unnerving feeling. He still held his greatsword in his hands but he made no moves.

Then he moved. Seemingly disappearing and reappearing right in front of me. I panicked, throwing up my staff to defend myself. But a single sweep of his sword was all it took to shatter the black crystalline structure of my own weapon. Tiny black shard that reflected the light like glass flew to the ground as I staggered back.

The ground beneath the Vritra blooded man punched upwards. As a pillar of stone from just above him raced down, to crush him in between them. With a simple flick of his hand a spear of black obsidian grew from thin air. Destroying my constructs. Two Djinn warriors appeared by my side, their swords drain as deep purple lightning ran up and down their blades.

The Vritra man cocked his head to the side for a moment, momentarily surprised. The two warriors struck as one. He blocked one of their attacks with his greatsword, and deflected the other with a black iron sword that manifested in his other hand. His greatsword glowed a subtle gold as he drove back the Djinn's sword. He opened his other palm, his sword disintegrating to nothing as black fog clouded my vision.

I fell to my knees, grappling at my throat as the fog ate away at my mana. My throat felt swollen and I could taste blood. My own core buckled as it struggled to keep up with the Alacryan's spell. I was barely able to hold it back as it consumed my own mana to use as its own.

"You lack experience." The Vritra man spoke, staring down at me. He had his arms folded behind his back, I guess I wasn't even worth killing huh.

I struggled to regain my footing. I drank the surrounding earth-type mana, just like how Arthur taught me to do. While it wasn't perfect I had the basics of his mana rotation down. I reached out, feeling for any kind of mana I could use. The black fog seemed familiar, something that I have seen before. I tried to focus in on that feeling.

Time seemed to come to a crawl as the Vritra born man bore down on me, maybe he was contemplating on what to do with me. Capture me and torture me for information? Or just to finish me off now. Suddenly the black fog reacted to my own will. The fog gathered, condensing itself. As a black stoned spear seemingly materialized out of the fog, slashing the Vritra's face, drawing blood from a long scar that ran up the left side of his face.

He stared at me with his eyes wide for a moment. When a larger Djinn warrior stepped over my body. Wielding a very ornate staff, the faceless warrior swung at my assailant. Creating distance for me as he did so.

The Vritra only parried the Djinn's attacks, allowing himself to be pushed back as I regain my footing. His black fog magic now dissipated. I saw the last remaining flecks of his mana dissolve into the atmosphere as I questioned what just happened. I had taken control of his own mana arts. But how? Art had told me each of the asuras had an unique way of using mana, with the Basilisks of the Vritra focusing on decay-type mana. Which was passed onto their descendants.

I snapped out of my daydreams as I focused myself. The Vritra man now seemed to be fully retreating. As he jumped into the air, he looked back at me one more time. This blood eyes met mine, a seemingly knowing feeling emanated from his look. And with a flash of light he was gone. Disappeared just like how Art does.

***

Me and three Djinn warriors made our way through the castle corridors. After the initial retaliation of Alacryan forces the dwarven city seems to have lost all of its fighting spirit. With many of their foreign supporters either dead or surrendered the citizens coward in fear of the imposing legions of faceless soldiers.

I had already positioned all of my troops to patrol and root out any spots of resistance. Only taking a handful of them with me to the main castle. To a person unfamiliar with its structure it was a labyrinth of tunnels and passageways.

Cynthia and Lucas had already reached the main city, and already secured most of the military outposts and civilian population centers. Seemingly I had the hardest time dealing with that damned Vritra hybrid.

They were hanging back, guarding the castle's warp gates in case of any more reinforcements. Leaving me, the only one with knowledge of the castle's interior to lead a party to secure it.

So far I hadn't run into any of the royal guards. Which was odd. Even if the king had died wouldn't they be still in the castle to protect the elders and nobles? In fact I hadn't seen a single other person since I had entered the castle. Just empty room and hallways.

Their were still traces of people here. Fresh footsteps and the smell of sweat and grim. It couldn't have been even hours since the last person has been through here.

The Djinn soldiers, each wielding a heavy shield and sword marched right behind me. Silent, and machine-like. Being alone with them like this was unnerving. They gave no indication they were even living beings, acting more like a complex golem more than anything.

Nevertheless we were making swift progress towards the main council chamber. Even when their king still lived there existed a royal court. A council of elders and nobles that acted like a separate form of governance, advising the royal family. My own adoptive father, Rahdeas was a notable member. Now that I thought about it I began to fear for his life.

Has the Alacryans already expunged all of the loyal dwarves within their inner circle? Was Rahdeas dead? Or did he at the threat of his life and the whole kingdom sell himself off and turn traitor? I shook my head in disbelief. No, Rahdeas was the only family I ever had before Art. He was the one who took in a freak like me and raised like his own son. I wasn't even a dwarf.

Then did the Vritra silence him? It has been a long time since I had sent him any letters of sorts. This whole war business Art got me into didn't exactly give me free time. A creeping sense of dread filled my mind. From his perspective I would have just completely disappeared since the Xyrus incident. Maybe he thought I was the one who died.

My walking turned into running as I rushed to the council chambers. Pleading to any higher being that my foster father was still alive. And soon I reached the large doors.

Craftsmanship and construction was something you had to give the dwarves credit for. The large twin doors leading to the royal council room was outlined by gold. With large jewels that glistened even in the moody light like stars studded into the gold trim. On the door itself were depictions of a great forge, with several dwarves hammers and pickaxes in hand doing what they do best. It was a celebration of the dwarven culture and talents. And this door was just a small fragment of what they were capable of.

The two Djinn warriors silently joined me as I looked up at the large doors. Despite Rahdeas being my guardian I had never entered through these doors myself. In fact, I rarely even entered this deep into the castle. I reached out, touching the cold door handles that were also made of a dark blue stone.

I turned the knob, the sounds of mechanics and springs working their magic could be heard. Dwarves loved paying special attention to even the smallest of details. The exact weight and balance of their weapons to even the sound a door would make when opened.

I pushed the doors hard, but they didn't budge at first. They were enormous doors made of solid stone after all. Willing mana into my arms and legs I pushed again. This time it ever so slightly moved. Through the small crack light sippled out.

I hadn't exactly planned on what I should do if I met any sort of resistance. My mind was far too occupied worry about Rahdeas that I pulled back slightly. Will they surrender knowing most of their city is taken? Or will they fight back? Will I have to subdue them?

The doors then seemed to open themselves, possible a design feature. A large doors swung gently open, as if it was automatic. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the light. And when I did I was met by what laid before me.

The royal council room, in the center was a long table made of rich dark wood. Surrounding the table were several chairs. No, it was more adept to call them thrones. Each of them had a differing design and size. But all of them were beautiful works of art. Plated in various precious gemstone and metals. A chandelier made of clear and shiny crystals hung from the center of the ceiling. It would have filled my heart with honor and awe, if it weren't for what had transpired here.

All of this, works of expert forgers and blacksmiths. The art made by creators of stone. The walls, thrones, and table were all covered in crimson blood.

The bisected bodies of the elders and guards laid about the room. And one man stood high above all the carnage. In his hands was a sword, its blade glowing white like the sun. But it brilliant light did not help it hide the blood that marred the weapon. His hooded brown cloak was dyed red and covered his face. Standing with one of his feet on the chest of a still living dwarve. Rahdeas, he was on his back. Blood streaking across his face and chest as he stared in disbelief at his assailant.

The hooded man turned to face me. But I didn't need him to do so to know who it was. A torrent of rage burned in my body. The same feeling I had felt back at Xyrus. A uncontrollable feeling of wanting to burn away everything in my path. It felt as though I had lost control of my body again as it acted on its on. My mana surged forth as I yelled the name of my childhood friend who caused all of this.

"Grey!"