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Chapter 88: Aura of A Monster

-----------------Present day-------------

Festus stared down at Zed’s unconscious body, a deep frown on his face. He could feel the dream mana gathering to his head as well as the ones leaving.

Most people called it mind mana, but while they were correct, Mind mana was too broad a concept. Just as gravity magic was a specialization within force magic, Dream mana was a specialization within Mind mana. And judging by how much of it was going on around Zed’s head, it was safe to assume Zed was developing an affinity for Dream mana. If he did so successfully, then he could be a mind mage, which would split his attention. Mages with specializations weren’t so eager to learn rune magic.

If Zed woke up as some kind of mind mage, Festus could kiss his project of creating the perfect rune mage goodbye moments after finding his assumed dead project and having his hope rekindled.

Festus didn’t like it one bit. And he couldn’t allow it. Many people still refused to believe it but a Rune mage was superior to every other specialization, except maybe a Death mage and a Life mage. However, the Rune mage was certainly the most versatile.

“Move!” he barked at Jason and his team.

They scuttled away almost immediately except Oliver who remained beside Zed as if he was going to protect Zed from him.

“What are you doing?” Festus asked him.

Oliver stood his ground. “What are you going to do to him?”

“Wake him up, obviously,” he scoffed, squatting beside Zed’s body. “Or do you have an objection to that?”

“No.”

“Then move.”

“How can I help?” Oliver asked, instead of moving. “What can I do?”

This was why Festus didn’t like mages who hadn’t grown to experience old age, they were too impatient, refused to listen, and didn’t know how to accept their own limitations. They did not get to experience old age, thus they had not learned to experience patience. True patience.

“You can help by moving, you unhealthy sin!” he scowled, growing irritable. “I need to use a rune I shouldn’t be using and you distracting me isn’t going to help anybody.”

That sufficed to pierce through Oliver’s stubbornness because he moved back, even if slowly.

“Now,” Festus announced, “I’m going to be performing a delicate runespell that will require my absolute focus. I have seen the real time map for this region and know that there are currently no monsters around. And while that remains true right now, I will need all of you to ensure my continued absence of disturbance remains the same until I am done, for the sake of this young mage.”

“And what good is that to us?” an obese mage asked.

Festus spared him a gentle glance and recalled his name easily by description.

“You must be Abed,” he said patiently, continuing without waiting for confirmation. “Well you see, Abed. Should I be disturbed significantly enough to bring harm to this young mage, finding the mana surge will be the least of all your problems.”

“Is that a threat, old man?”

Festus kept his eye on Abed and released his aura. All of it.

……………………………………………….

Captain Ven listened to Festus’ announcement, knowing he was the one being addressed. The mage required that he keep everyone under control while he worked his runespell. Ven had no problem with that, in fact, he was inclined to support him even without the request.

If Zed was an attribute mage, then that made him a good fit for the Olympian armor. And if he was good enough, it left him as a viable candidate for the Renegade program. It was not the reason for his inclination but presenting the VHF with a rare candidate for the Renegade program was an achievement worthy of a reward.

Ven was still speculating the possibilities of how to take Zed safely away from the rune mage after all this when Abed spoke.

“And what good is that to us?” the corpulent mage asked.

Festus spared him a gentle glance.

“You must be Abed,” he said patiently, continuing without waiting for confirmation. “Well you see Abed. Should I be disturbed significantly enough to bring harm to this young mage, finding the mana surge will be the least of all your problems.”

“Is that a threat, old man?” Abed asked.

Festus’ gaze didn’t waver. Then the world fell.

Ven fell to his knees involuntarily, dropped by the weight of the world. It was as if someone had dropped a mountain on top of him. He struggled against the force of a heavy aura as the pressure grew heavier, pinning him on one knee.

He was a category one Bishop rank mage, his armor pushing him to the equivalent of a category two Bishop rank. Just what kind of aura was capable of suppressing him so thoroughly?

……………………………………….

Chris gasped for air as the pressure of the world crashed around her. She knew the origin of the aura and still couldn’t believe the weight of it. It held her hostage, incapable of even breath. Under the weight of it she was paralyzed, helplessly pinned to the ground. And she wasn’t even the focus of it.

She feared what would happen if she ever fell under its ire.

She’d known Festus was strong but this wasn’t the aura of the strong.

It was the aura of a monster.

And monsters were supposed to exist only in Renegade armors.

……………………………………………………..

Abed’s lungs fought not to die as he lay helpless in the dirt, grass in his mouth as his body used up all the air in him for no other reason than a plea to survive. He’d opened his big mouth at the wrong time and it was going to cost him his life. The VHF soldiers hadn’t been the people he was supposed to be wary of, it had been the old man. And now it was too late to rectify his mistake.

As he died slowly, he prayed to God for a second chance. He prayed and swore to be a different man, a different mage. All he needed was a chance, not two, not three. Just one. If he was allowed to live, he would be different.

He would be better.

God answered him.

………………………………………………

The pressure lifted from Ven’s shoulders and the aura was gone as abruptly as it had come. Ven rose to unsteady feet.

As disgraceful as his display had been, he knew he’d survived better than everyone else. The rest of the party were on hands and knees groaning as they pulled themselves back together. The only people who were in a worse position were Abed and the mage with the hat in the distance, though Ven couldn’t be certain of the latter.

The man laid on his belly with his head propped up on his hands, legs swinging carelessly behind him. He looked unfazed.

As for Abed, pale was an understatement to the color of his skin. He didn’t look like a man who’d seen a ghost, he looked like a man who’d lost his ghost.

“To answer your question,” Festus said calmly, looking down at Abed. “It was not a threat. It was an assurance.”

“Now,” he went on, ignoring everybody, “I will begin the spell and you will ensure I am undisturbed.”

Without preamble he placed a hand above Zed’s head and a soft blue rune came alive over Zed’s face. It shone softly, dwarfed by the illuminating plants around them. Then a second rune appeared, followed by a third. Then sigils grew around them until they formed a circular script, none of them drawn by hands or any medium. All three runes had simply linked and the rest had grown from them.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It was a display of rune mastery only seen amongst competent Rune mages within the VHF.

Judging by the look on Festus’ face, it was taking all of his concentration to pull this off.

“Boss,” Daniel’s voice buzzed in his helmet through his team’s com-link.

“I know,” he replied. “Once we get within service reach, I’ll take it up the ranks. We’ll need to update our records.” A touch of dread filled him even as he said the next words. “We just found the fifty-ninth Knight rank mage.”

Worse, he’d been hiding out in the middle of nowhere learning runes.

“Alright then,” Festus muttered, groaning through his runespell. “Let’s get you back to us, kiddo.”

……………………………………..

------Dreamscape(Zed's memories)---

Zed and his friends burst out of the sea of people, rushing to make their way out of club Cabavi.

Zed still held Anthony’s hand in a tight grip and the rest of their friends flanked them. The chaos of the club behind them was growing into an aimless mob and they could hear the voice of someone attempting to calm them. He was making promises of safety in a group were someone had already died.

Good luck with that, Zed thought as he turned for the stairs.

“Elevator will be faster,” Peter said, reaching for the hallway in front of them now ominous with flickering dark light.

Nurifa grabbed his arm and shook his head. “No elevators. It might be faster but it’s not safer.”

Zed ignored them and turned to the stairs. They’d only taken a few steps down when the crowd from the club burst out like a tidal wave of violent termites.

“Hurry!” he barked, taking two stairs at a time, Anthony trailing behind him.

“Slow down!” the boy pleaded.

Zed heard him but the words didn’t register in his head. He knew them, could repeat them, even replied them. “No! You run faster!”

But he couldn’t comprehend them.

They were down the first flight of stairs with a few more to go when the crowd that had rushed into the hallway Peter had wanted them to take, turned and moved their tidal wave down the stairs.

This time Zed wasn’t the one rushing them.

“Faster, guys!” Peter screamed from the back of the group. “They’re coming up on us!”

No one wanted to be caught in a stampede. Zed had seen his fair share of stampedes in his dreamscapes and he doubted there was any of them here who hadn’t. Not everyone survived a stampede.

They scaled two more flights of stairs before the crowd piled into them. They carried them down and Zed tightened his hold on Anthony. He wanted to scream back at the boy, to let him know he was still there, but he knew his voice wouldn’t carry. Not in the crowd of screaming, panicked men and women. So he held on as he was carried against his will and hoped it was enough assurance to him and the boy.

The crowd was still carrying him when he felt hands groping at him. He took out his hand from his pocket grasped around the hilt of the knife and flailed it around. It knocked against a few people still in its sheath and he heard a few pained cries. A moment later, the hand took purchase of him and pulled.

He found himself dragged from the crowd, into a side door and out of the madness. He fell to the floor in a mess still holding on to the sheathed knife and Anthony behind him. A few people stumbled out after them before the door was forced shut.

“You alright?” Nurifa asked while Peter barred the door.

Zed shook his head and got up while Takeshi stared at him with an odd expression.

“I’m good,” he told Nurifa then turned to Takeshi. “What?”

“Your knife,” he pointed at the weapon. “It’s still sheathed. That is no way to use a knife.”

Zed frowned at him. “You don’t say.”

He ignored the boy and turned to check on Anthony when a female voice interrupted him.

“You can’t leave all of them out there?” She was a slender woman with long, straight black hair, she was Peter’s height and her glittering brown gown left little to the imagination.

Peter laughed in her face as he stepped away from the door. “You’re lucky you made it through. I was going to leave you behind, too.”

The woman stood with two others. A tall man balding from age in a black polo and another man who looked very much like him but with a head of brown hair and a saggy vest that revealed much of his athletic build.

“And what are kids doing at a club?” the bald man scowled. “What is this world coming to?”

“Funny how you weren’t asking that a few minutes ago when you were almost trampling us,” Peter snarled as he walked past them, falling into a jog. “Come on, guys. This way. There’s another flight of stairs only the staff know about.”

Zed unsheathed the knife, discarding the metal sheath to the side before chasing after Peter with his friends. Behind them their new companions struggled to follow.

Peter led them down a new flight of stairs, and it was only a matter of time before they began out running the bald man and the lady. Soon they were nowhere in sight.

Noticing it, the man in the vest said, “We’ve got to wait for them.”

That sufficed to stop them and Peter barked in laughter. “No, friend. You have to wait for them. We don’t have to do shit.”

“We are safer the more of us there are,” the man explained. “There was a woman with a phone in the club and she was watching a video of what’s going on outside. Its worse than even the first awakening. It’s like the second awakening the news has been talking about for a while.”

“Impossible,” Takeshi argued. “We still have two to five years before that happens.”

“Look, kid. I don’t know what to tell you. I saw what I saw, and I assure you we’re safer in numbers.”

“Fair enough, but there’s five of us,” Peter said, his voice growing irritated. “You can wait for them so that there’s three of you. We’re not waiting any longer. Come on, guys. We’ve got to hurry.”

They turned back to the stairs and the man grabbed Anthony from behind.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Nurifa asked, his mask of placidity or platitude slipping into something dangerous.

“Stay back!” the man warned, putting their friend in a choke hold. “We’re going to wait for my brother and cousin, then we can continue going.”

“I swear we don’t have time for this!” Peter rumbled. As if supporting his point, the building shook again, literally swayed from one side to the other. Beside them a crack ran up the wall and the lights flickered and dust fell from above them.

“Tony,” Peter said, trying to effect calm in his voice. “Remember the dreamscape? Remember the time with the mantis? Do you still remember how The Rainmaker got away?”

Zed was sad to know he had no idea what the boy was talking about.

“That’s good.” Peter nodded watching their friend’s eyes.

“Shut up!” the man in the vest screamed. He kept looking back up the stairs and then at them. He was panicking, worried for the others and now wary of them. It meant he was distracted. All Zed needed was a chance.

“Josh! Are you up there?!” the man bellowed. When he looked back up the stairs again, Zed took his chance.

He held his knife out in front of him in both hands and rushed the man. As small as Anthony was, it left a lot of open spaces to attack.

Zed had been in a few knife fights in his dreamscapes and had the theoretical idea of how to use one even if he’d never used one in real life. Unfortunately, he was panicking just as much as the man, and the idea of accidentally taking the man’s life left him with a touch of fear. Adrenaline was also pumping through his veins and his hands trembled so he didn’t have a strong grip on the weapon.

The man saw him at the last second. He shoved Anthony aside and grabbed Zed’s arms before the knife bit into his skin.

“Run!” Zed shouted as they both went to the ground. “I’m right behind you!”

He struggled with the man and found himself on the losing side of retaining possession of the weapon. His hold weakened as they struggled and the man punched him in the side.

“You fucking brat!” he spat, then punched him again.

Zed felt the knife slipping from his hold and threw his head against the man’s. Pain filled his head as the blow connected and he felt something crack against his skull. His vision blurred as he felt the man release him, mumbling curses that sounded like he was doing it with water in his mouth.

His vision blurred from the pain but Zed scrambled to his feet and held the knife out in front of him. The building shook once more and he stumbled but caught himself. Another crack grew along the length of the walls.

“You little shit!” the man swore, holding a bloody nose. “You’re going to pay for that!”

“H… how about I pay for it after, and we both get out of this building.”

The man looked at him skeptically, took a moment to thing, then said, “I can’t leave my brother behind.”

“Alright,” Zed agreed. “But I don’t have to wait for him. And my friends are gone so it’s no longer about safety in numbers.”

The man considered it for a while with a frown. Zed watched the choices warring in his eyes before finally settling on one. When it did, the man took his hand from his bleeding nose, now broken and turned to one side.

“Fine. But I’m going to need that knife.”

“What?!”

“The knife, kid.” The man gestured with his hand. “I just realized that it’s going to be every man for himself out there and I’m going to need a weapon if I want to last out there.”

“What about me?” he asked, surprised. “It’s my knife, and I need to last out there.”

“That stopped being my problem when you tried to knife me.”

“You took my friend hostage!”

Zed couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“No one cares, kid,” the man took a menacing step towards him. “Give. Me. The. Knife.”

“No!”

Zed waved the weapon from side to side. He might not be good with it, but there was no way the man could get close without getting cut this way.

Unfortunately, he had misunderstood the basic human determination to survive through horrible behavior. He caught the man’s steeled resolve a moment too late before the man barreled into him.

He felt the knife cut through flesh even as he was rammed into the wall. The man roared in pain but didn’t let up. So clustered together, there was little wiggle room to use the knife and the man threw a punch at his side. It connected with his liver and pain blinded Zed. His hold on the knife loosened and it felt from his hands. Even in his pain, he knew losing the knife would be the end of him. So as the man went for the knife, he went for him.

He grabbed the man with almost no energy left in him and got a punch in the face for his effort. Blinding white pain filled his head and he tasted blood as he staggered back, holding himself up with the stair’s balustrade.

The building shook again and the man picked up the knife.

“Sorry, kid. But sometimes you got to do what you got to do.”

He took a step towards Zed, paused at a sound and looked up. The ceiling cracked above them. A script of runes appeared in soft orange colors on it, then shattered, and the ceiling came down on them.

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* You have unraveled [Pocket memory(incomplete)] (who am I?) 1/2.

* [Pocket memory(incomplete)] (who am I?) remaining 1/1.

* Duration to next unraveling: 00:00:03.

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I… need to wake… up…

More memories continued to fill Zed’s head even as new ones took him.

They were far from complete, but they were more than he was ready for.

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* Duration to next unraveling: 00:00:01.

* You have unlocked memory (Mana surge).

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