While a version of the Librarian taught Silren to further control her powers, such as forming things out of her Aura of Destruction, the two other versions began teaching Imra and Ivaran. Of course, the method of teaching was different as the three’s powers were different from one another, Silren’s was almost a complete replica of her mother’s powers, Imra was somewhat of a mixture of her father and mother, and Ivaran—as his name suggest—was almost purely a mage, an immensely powerful mage.
Somehow, someway, Ivaran possessed nearly pure mana, enabling him to use all mortal spells. But this wasn’t all, he could also manifest a small part of End’s destructive energy, although not as much as his sisters. Rather, it permeated his mana, making it so that offense magic such as fire would be inherently buffed. But it also meant his support and creation abilities were weakened, as whatever he would make or support would also be affected by Destruction. This was made sure when the Surveyor, in its countless testing of the three siblings’ abilities, managed to create a palace using Ivaran’s ability, only to have it crumble at a touch.
It was already a miracle that Ivaran was able to create anything at all, the energy of destruction not quite enough to disturb the bonds that held matter together. Rather, it put it to just the brink, so that a disturbance as small as a poke would cause the entire thing to collapse. In conclusion, Ivaran would be a great combat mage, perhaps the strongest of them all, but in terms of support or creation, it was better if he just avoided it entirely.
So the Librarian did just that, only teaching Ivaran how to control offensive types of magic, teaching him about the ways of fire, not just how to utilize the spell but about what fire was exactly. Not the tales that humans spun about the origins of fire but of what it actually was, a visible form of natural energy. But when the Librarian told this to Ivaran, Ivaran was confused, asking,
“What do you mean?”
A small smile on his face, the Librarian explained, “Well, when heat is added to a fuel of sorts, an example being air or wood, it ignites. What happens next is fire, which is a form of energy. Mages such as yourself are able to replicate this through Magic, where Magic herself will provide the energy needed to cause the fire. But, that’s not all, you as the mage must command Magic to do so and the price you must pay is your own energy.”
With a shake of his head, the Librarian added, “The humans have mistakenly believed that it is their own energy which causes Magic but no, it is not. Their energy is the money one pays to obtain an item.”
“Money?”
Seeing Ivaran with his innocent expression, the Librarian remembered, “Ah, yes. I forgot that you had not had the chance to live amongst other humans. Well, money is a sort of... hmm, how should I explain. Well money is an object of some sort of value, sort of like food I would suppose. You see, the body cannot get energy directly from food, it must first digest it. That process of digestion... I think you are too young to understand at the moment.”
Patting Ivaran on the head, “I will explain when you are older, that is, if you are interested.”
Ivaran nodded, he had hardly understood anything that the Librarian had said.
Wanting to make sure that Ivaran understood what magic was, he just said, “Just remember this Ivaran, that it is not you who is creating those fireballs, it is Magic herself, you are only... giving her the energy to do so.”
Although not entirely accurate, it was still a good enough explanation to get Ivaran to understand. As this particular Librarian directed Ivaran, another was busy with Imra, who was able to use some magic but not to the best degree, as her destructive energy would destroy the spell simultaneously, her tainted mana collapsing on itself the moment it tried to create anything. However, the raw energy itself was usable, similar in form to the Aura of Destruction, although more liquid in form.
She could manipulate this liquid-like energy, although to be perfect it would take some practice. But already, she was getting the hang of it, able to disperse it into mist or a solid block of energy. It reminded the Librarian of the water cycle, of water vapor, which condensed into liquid water, and then finally freezing into ice. However, Imra had to take care that she did not come into contact with the liquid itself, although her unique body was able to resist destruction somewhat, it was not complete immunity, she would still end up being destroyed by it.
So for now, the Surveyor had placed a thin veil of energy around her, this veil serving as protection but also as a second skin, one which would recognize each and every time her body came into contact with her energy. It would come as a slight cold pressure on the concerned area, not something that would hurt her but certainly able to provoke her attention. Meanwhile, the Librarian would stand near her, covering himself with the Absolute Barrier as he told her to manipulate her liquid-energy in a certain way without touching her body. Once she came into contact with the energy, she had to restart again.
As this was happening, the Surveyor had its attention focused on a battlefield where a certain orc was rolling around armored in stone. He crushed both allies and enemies alike, although more enemies as he had placed himself in the thick of them. As for the orcs under his command, they were trying to surround the enemy, using Yargul as a distraction while the overwhelmed what orcs that remained focused on them. This was according to his direction, Yargul had seen just how effective this formation was against his and the Trident’s army and was itching for revenge, he wanted to subject the orc commander to the same fate.
But from the times he would occasionally take a break from rolling around, his efforts to locate the orc commander were all in vain, much to his rage. He took it out on the enemy orcs around him, unleashing miniature earthquakes which killed and maimed many orcs. He also did this just in case there were assassins around him, he wanted to ensure that they couldn’t push him into a literal corner, one he was forced to make himself, like last time.
He made sure to keep the earth around him in constant motion, his normal stone armor able to deal with any projectiles that enemies would throw at him. It soon came to be that orcs would just run away at the sight of him, allies and enemies alike giving him a wide berth so as to avoid being swallowed by the earth. Seeing this, Yargul eventually stopped, he was running out of energy anyways and there didn’t appear to be any assassins. Overcome with a sudden boredom, he made himself a tower to sit on, casually chucking stones with the force not too different than that of a catapult, not evening having to aim as there were so many orcs that he would be hard-pressed to purposefully miss.
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Contrary to his expectations, the enemy orcs were behaving like a chicken that had its head cut off, not the proper orc army that the orc commander commanded. As Yargul threw stones into the enemy, he grew angrier and angrier, the orc commander had dared to ignore him. This was an unforgivable offense, how dare the orc commander ignore him! Did he think that such a pathetic army was all that Yargul amounted to? Ridiculous, Yargul vowed that the orc commander would not suffer a quick death.
Too angry to continue throwing, he stopped it all together, glaring at nothing in particular. He had expected a challenge and a chance for revenge but that never came to be, the orc commander had thought of the Trident to be a greater adversary, this seriously offending Yargul. Of course, although Yargul didn’t know it, the orc commander had not underestimated Yargul and sent his best lieutenant to deal with Yargul.
This lieutenant was skilled, a force to be reckoned with, but he had fallen early in battle. And the reason as to why he died was rather simple, he was tailing Yargul while Yargul was rolling about and when finally, he came to a stop, the lieutenant stepped forth to challenge him. But seeing Yargul stumble about in what appeared to be a drunken stupor, the lieutenant was slightly confused, this moment of confusion the reason behind his downfall. For Yargul, remembering that he was extremely weak whenever he stopped rolling around, began to stomp and cause the earth to shake and crack, the lieutenant falling into one of these cracks and subsequently dying.
To his credit, the lieutenant threw his spear in the hopes of killing Yargul but Yargul’s armor was too strong, all that was gained was a shattered spear. Yargul had turned to see the source of the attack but the lieutenant had already fallen into a crack which closed not too long after it had opened, swallowing the lieutenant deep within the earth. Thus fell the lieutenant, although the details to his fate would forever be unknown to Yargul and the other orcs.
With this rather disappointing end, as such was reality sometimes, Yargul’s army was able to break through the orc commander’s blockade and continue on their way to aid the Skull Lord, Yargul torn between tracking down the orc commander or going to support the Skull Lord. Eventually, he chose to support the Skull Lord, he had no doubt that the orc commander would slip away and once he had finished helping the Skull Lord, he would have all the time in the world to hunt him down.
. The Surveyor just recorded this in its Library, it did not consider this to be much of a loss, the battle most likely would’ve been a repetition of most orc battles with only a few usages of actual strategy. It was hardly noteworthy and with that battle out of the way, the Surveyor could finally direct more of its attention to the siege on Skull Lord’s city.
From its observers, it had already sensed the presence of a few unique orcs, orcs who had been born with a piece of Magic. As to how this came to be, it could only be described as a rare phenomenon, these orcs just happened to be born with bodies that were the perfect vessel for Magic. And Magic naturally collects more in perfect vessels than in not, these orcs possessing a sliver of Magic herself. But as the body matures, it traps Magic within, that sliver of Magic now trapped within the bone marrow of orcs and magic beasts.
The Surveyor had done extensive research into this, conducting experiments of its own to find out just what was responsible for making these creatures the perfect vessels for Magic and thus finding out more of Magic in general. Magic was, as stated before, a being whose purpose was to serve the wishes of mortal creatures that possessed mageblood. At first, before the Rebellion of Ancient Man, all creatures of sentient thought were capable of using magic for Magic answered all of their benign wishes.
But because of the Rebellion of Ancient Man, partly caused by the conflict of Light and Night, Ancient Man enslaved Magic to use her as a weapon. It was the Age of War, where humans fought against humans and indeed, against their own creators, Light herself. Some were innocent, like the Premen, while other races of Man were not. And as Light feared another such insurrection against her, she eradicated the Premen too, one of the last races whom Magic had aided without needing a price.
Suddenly reminded of this, the Surveyor briefly wondered what had happened to Rose, had she been incinerated when End arrived? Or did she survive, if she had, then where could she have gone? The Surveyor quickly reviewed the memories of the shadows over the millennia of its slumber, finding no data on her except for a few weeks before the Great Calamity. Thus, the Surveyor could only conclude that Rose had died and immediately lost interest, she was a fascinating specimen but a dead specimen was useless and not worthy of its attention.
It did regard it as a shame however, it had not been able to gain a complete understanding of her in her later years, only possessing an immature copy of her. In the face of this, it vowed to update its copies of currently living subjects as much as possible to avoid this, sort of like how a human on Earth would reach a checkpoint and save their progress. Indeed, perhaps this was all some sort of game for the Surveyor, a player who was exploring the utmost limits of the game itself.
It wouldn’t be an inappropriate metaphor, for the Universe and all the sentient creatures that inhabited it was nothing but creations of Darkness, with Life serving as their programming. The Universe was all one great video game of sorts and as a “game moderator,” the Surveyor had free reign to understand the limits of this game for the game’s rather inattentive creator. And right now, this game moderator was going to watch over the Yargul and the siege he was about to interrupt.
—SKULL LORD—
The city’s walls shuddered once more as the enemy artillery fired again, although none of this was enough to disturb me. These walls I had made sure to be thick and tall, I had always prepared for a siege although even I must admit that I never expected the enemy to be fifty million in number. Thankfully, they keep providing me with food, the orcs they keep sending at the walls serving as the food to keep my orcs in line. But the corpses of my orcs join their bodies in the stomachs of my orcs and I’m afraid that it will be my orcs that will run out first.
I sighed stressfully, “Damn it, Yargul and Trident were supposed to arrive two days ago. At this rate, I’m really going to die.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head backward on my throne, I had never expected that I would die like this, like some cowardly rat hiding within his hole in the wall with cats clawing away at the entrance. I would’ve at least like to have been killed by an orc of some repute, like Yargul... He truly is a strange orc. Perhaps the only orc who has gained my respect at so young an age.
Distant warhorns sounded in the distance and with resignation, I stood up, heading to take my place on the main gate. I soon reached it, my loyal elites following behind. The gates had long since been broken but a barricade of corpses and whatever else could be used, rubble from the wall, bits of lumber, carts, anything was used to try and plug up the entrance. Where the gaps were my soldiers would guard, and I among them. I hefted my great club onto my shoulder, watching the enemy army near, a roiling black wave against the horizon. As it would take some time for them to arrive, I took a seat on a suitable piece of rubble, waiting calmly for their arrival.