Chapter 97 — In which they meet (11)

Amara suspected that someone was trying to kill the throne rulers.

It was a simple conclusion drawn from how Seven appeared to assassinate him.

Of course, the implications behind that conclusion were terrifying and even held a connection to his and his siblings’ death 300 years ago.

But Amara couldn’t be bothered by it now.

Because there was a person life at stake.

Or quite a few people.

At first, he thought that all three members of Archmage’s family could be in danger, but after secretly learning about current customs and coming-of-age ceremony in Rubrun he became certain.

The main target was the Archmage, while attack on Lesser Lord Mage was a bait.

Archmage was a powerhouse that couldn’t be just taken down with a sloppy assassination attempt.

If what protected a Saint was the Universe Temple and divine forces flowing through it, making it no different from a fortress, then the Archmage’s fortress was their own magic.

Mages always maintained a few defense spells around themselves.

Those defense spells were able to deflect weapons, elements and some spells. They could even detect and neutralize poisons that entered a mage’s body.

Those defense spells were even stronger for the Archmage, who always had to be cautious about someone taking advantage of their distraction.

And Crimo was considered a genius since young age.

He was the worst possible assassination target, because he had almost no weaknesses.

Almost.

His protective nature and love for his siblings was well known and became his weakness.

It was obvious that he would lay the ceremony hall thick with magic circles to protect his younger brother.

But if someone was to use those circles to push him to the edge, enough that the Archmage barely maintained control over them? If someone was to approach him when he is in this state and threaten his life?

What if when the Archmage attempts to resist, someone puts his younger brother in danger?

Naturally, the Archmage would choose to protect his younger brother.

When Amara stepped out of the teleportation circle, the situation was heading in exactly that direction.

Just the state of magic circles around him and a slightly burned scent in the air told him the situation was dire.

“Maintain the teleportation circle until I come back.”

He glanced at Seven, who seemed to lost his strength and was delicately supported by Alexandrit, and threw an order.

Then he sprinted following a thin silvery-red thread that was only visible in his eyes.

It was a creation of a certain god, who was right now sacrificing all their energy to save their believer.

Even though Amara didn’t know the building, or where he was going, the thread guided him through the fastest route.

He ran through the garden, a few corridors, entered the inner courtyard and was about to enter the passage leading to the exit when…

Something made him halt in his steps and turn his head around.

On the second floor, Vern who was just about to enter the room where the suspicious gift was left, suddenly turned his head towards the window.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

On the first floor, the hand of Saffra, who found an ideal spot to do her trick and was about to draw the curtains, stopped.

All eyes of all three met.

They were just about 30 meters from each other.

If they shouted, they would easily hear each other voices.

How long it was?

300 years had passed…

They made eye contact for exactly three seconds.

And then all returned to what they were doing.

No matter how much their hearts cried out for this moment.

They had people to save first.

*-*-*

Sangria positioned himself between Crimo and the intruder.

He hid his hands in the sleeves and prepared to cast a spell, but uncertain what the opponent tried to do, he couldn’t draw a magic circle.

Numerous guesses and countermeasures played in his mind.

Should he detonate the meteor?

But what if the explosion shock wave reaches the Archmage?

Currently, Crimo couldn’t move nor protect himself properly.

Should he push the intruder out?

But then he not only risked losing the sight of them, he also might hurt or even kill someone without his knowledge.

He had no idea what happened to Scarlen’s subordinates, who should be protecting the entrance to this room.

Amidst his worries, he spoke again:

“Esteemed guest, I’m asking you for the last time, please kindly leave.”

The intruder responded with holding a meteor stone up.

The next second, Sangria felt his skin prick as so kind of power filled the air and the meteor stone lit up.

With the light so strong, Sangria had to close his eyes, or he would go blind.

“Aargh…!”

He heard a painful scream behind and scent of blood filled his nostrils.

“My Lord!”

He shouted and turned his head to Crimo, but because strong light he had no idea what was happening.

But the light was clearly a problem.

Sangria drew a magic circle without hesitation.

Under the influence of his mana, the water in the air condescended, creating thick layer of fog around them, blocking some of the light.

With the help of fog’s shadow, Sangria could finally see what was going on.

Crimo, who was siting in the chair before, fell to the ground and curled up in pain, his exposed to the light skin was covered in bloody blisters.

Blood was dripping from his nose and tightly closed lips, and his mana…

‘Why are you concentrating on the protecting magic circles instead of yourself?!’

Sangria wanted to scream at him, but he couldn’t. The light mercilessly was penetrating his fog.

In the split second he condescended another layer of fog, but it was clear it wasn’t enough.

For the first time in a long time, Sangria hated that magic relied on the laws of physic instead of some mystical powers.

If he only could produce darkness to cover Crimo…

In his sorrowful thoughts, he drew another circle and struck the intruder with lightning.

The clone fell to the ground like a puppet, which strings were cut off, but the damn meteor was still glowing bright.

What should he do?!

He had to take Crimo out of this room, far from his damn stone, but it seemed impossible to simply drag him out.

Only four seconds had passed and Crimo was already in the state close to dying. Past the time Sangria would drag him out, he would be already dead.

Space magic?

That would take longer than dragging him out.

Creating denser fog?

He was already doing it, damn it! But if that continues Crimo will die regardless!

He had to get rid of the meteor, but how?!

In his panic, Sangria’s thoughts all jumbled up.

“Take off your robe and cover him with it!”

Suddenly a figure appeared at the windowsill of a tightly closed window and spoke with clear voice.

Sangria’s followed the order without any hesitation.

He took of his outer robe and threw it Crimo, covering him completely.

While he was at it, the sudden guest rushed to the meteor.

Despite glaring light, the visitor easily picked it up and wrapped it in paper with numerous strange symbols. The light subsided by half in an instant.

Then he started to sing something softly… like a lullaby.

Two seconds later, the meteor lost its light.

The visitor put it inside his robe pockets.

“The Esteemed Archmage…”

The guest paused when he met Sangria’s trembling gaze.

The purple eyes, which sparkled like crystals even in the room that suddenly turned dark, shook.

“Did something happen to your eyes?”

“No?”

Sangria was taken aback by a strange question.

Guessing the sudden guest was worried about the blasted light, he quickly spoke to reassure him.

“I closed my eyes the moment it started to lit up. I didn’t look at it directly.”

“…. Okay.”

He didn’t sound particularly convinced, but didn’t ask any further. He took a few steps forward and said:

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to heal Esteemed Archmage now.”

“Ah, yes.”

Sangria easily stepped aside, before he realized what he was doing.

Should he so readily let a stranger approach Crimo?

What he was doing right now?

But he couldn’t continue his thoughts, as the guest carefully lifted the robe Sangria threw at Crimo and then sliced his palm with a small knife.

Sangria could only stare at it in shock as his mind was consumed by screaming question ‘Why on blazing fires are you hurting yourself!?’

The visitor paid no attention to Sangria, as he drew something on his palm and then sprinkled his blood on the blisters covering Crimo’s body.

The injures quickly got better under influence of some kind of mysterious power, leaving behind only redden skin.

“Ugh…”

Crimo started to come back to his senses, as not only his injures got better, the magic circles that were consuming his mental strength, finally returned to normal.

He blinked and looked up at the unfamiliar figure in deep hood staring down at him.

“You…”

“Please make sure to thank the god you pray to, later. They used up almost all of their energy to save you. Blood sacrifices are all good, but they also really like milk.”

Crimo frowned at the sudden nonsense.

It was hard to tell what expression the guest was making behind the mask, but he seemed to be smirking.

“I’ll be going now.”

He stood up and leaped at the windowsill with the next step.

“Have a wonderful day.”

The sudden visitor disappeared outside the window, politely closing window behind him.

The room fell into an awkward silence.

*~*~*