The explosion was what woke Samuel. Not because of the nearness of it or because of the sound, though that would have certainly been enough. No, It was the fact that the explosion began mere feet away from him, in his flimsy cloth tent. It evaporated the tent and all furniture inside it, and send all the occupants of the hill flying into the air. Only Samuel, whose body was considerably hardier than most, survived. Even so, he was thrown from the hill to land, with a sickening crunch, amidst the army below him.

Samuel was first aware of his new position, as his brain struggled to understand what had happened. He instinctively tried to jump to his feet, ready to fight but found that half of his body didn’t respond to him. That was strange, he thought. He raised his head with some difficulty and looked down at his legs. They didn’t seem to be there. Alarm ripped through him then, waking him instantly. Just in time for the second explosion.

It formed in midair, with no sign of any spell launched from a specific direction. It simply sprang into being in front of his eyes, a little sparkle of mana that burst apart instantly. Only his reflexes saved him from injury that time. The instant the explosion cleared, he dropped his barrier and pushed himself off of the ground with his arms. He’d lost a lot of blood in the few seconds he’d been on the ground, and knew at once that he was nearing death. Fortunately, he was saved by the runes that he’d been given in Zaban. He could feel them taking effect already, slowly mending the damage to his body. In several seconds, his limbs would regrow.

For now, he had to keep moving, he thought. An enemy had sight of him and was launching spells. The fact that he couldn’t see the spell’s source was especially troubling, but not so much as the damage that could be done to the army if he stayed where he was. Whoever was attacking was locked on to him, as he was just barely able to avoid three more explosions as he propelled himself through the air. Controlling his direction was proving especially difficult without his full body. For the next half-minute, he was undoubtedly in a great deal of danger. He focused only on pushing himself in random directions, forcing himself higher and higher, drawing the focus of the unseen mage.

With a wrenching pain, his path suddenly corrected itself, and he was flying truly. He’d regained his legs. With a single gesture, the crystalline blade was in his hand, and his other was raised, ready to counter an attack he could see. Yet another flash of mana appeared behind him, and he spun in place, pointing a hand at it.

“Laban!” He thundered, directing his intent towards the spell. It immediately reverted in on itself, of course, but with no source, it simply vanished. He cursed, then teleported several feet away as yet another attack appeared. “Where the hell are these coming from?”

He flew as fast as he could, scanning in every direction for some sign of an enemy mage. Some mages, he knew, could attack from incredibly long mages. Their spells were classified as artillery spells, and they could be up to a kilometer away in some cases. But even then, he should be able to see the attack coming. The fact that he couldn’t indicate an exceptionally gifted mage, who had created a new type of spell. Very few were capable of that, he thought. The creation of a new type of magic was rare. He ducked under another explosion, his eyes still straining.

He couldn’t spend all night combing for the countryside while dodging or countering the attacks, he thought. He had to find the mage quickly, and use his sword to get in close. Unfortunately for him, there was any number of places one could be hiding in the countryside, with its gently rolling hills and its countless trees. Every five feet there was a place that could be used for cover. And he couldn’t level it all, even if he’d wanted to. He didn’t have that kind of power.

“Grimr!” He shouted, countering an explosion. His voice rippled over the countryside, echoing against the hills. He hoped that his friend could hear it. “If you’re nearby, I need help!”

No reply came, and he cursed again, weaving randomly through the air. If Grimr, who had stated he would be nearby, wasn’t here, who else could he call on? It took him a few seconds to find the answer, but he finally figured it out. Shigeru. It was the first time he’d tried to call on a god to aid him in battle, he thought. Could he do it right? What if he couldn’t make the connection due to how long Shigeru had been gone? It wasn’t as if he’d behaved like a diligent follower, praying at the temple every day.

But as another explosion formed in the air beside his head, nearly knocking him out of the air, he realized he had no choice in the matter. Dropping his flight spell and plummeting down towards the ground to give him a second to think, he closed his eyes. Automatically, his lips moved in prayer, though he hadn’t been able to think of one until that precise second.

“Guide me, God of War,” he said, his soft voice lost to the thunder of wind slamming against his ears. “Grant me wisdom to survive this battle and protect my comrades.”

He opened his eyes a few hundred feet from the ground, and swooped low over the army, rising once more. He blinked, and in the instant when his eyes were closed, he saw the smiling face of Shigeru, as he’d remembered him when they’d first met. Strong in appearance, with lean muscles and a knowing look in his eyes. He nodded ever so slightly at Samuel, who knew that, somehow, his request had been granted. Take your time, Samuel. Even the stealthiest enemy has a presence. Search for it.

Samuel rocketed straight upwards again, ignoring the explosions that formed in the air below him. As he rose, he expanded his mana screen. He threw every ounce of his effort into the action, throwing it for hundreds of feet in every direction. It lost much of its strength as it stretched, but he could still sense the mana of powerful figures. Then it reached for several thousand feet, and he caught a flash of light in his mind’s eye. It was nearly impossible to make out any details about it, but its position alone was suspicious. It was enough of a confirmation for Samuel. He opened his eyes just in time to avoid a final explosion, then leaned back.

His vision cleared a half-second later in an entirely new scene. Just in front of him, crouched beside a tree, was a figure wearing dark clothing. His hands were moving in distinct patterns, weaving magic. He paused, however, in the middle of this most recent spell, as he sensed Samuel’s presence so close to him. Unlike Samuel, he didn’t hesitate, and immediately launched a new attack spell, throwing a dense bolt of lightning. Samuel reacted at once, now sure that he’d found his target.

“Laban!” The bolt turned on itself and flew back at the man. Samuel was sure that, with the limited space, the man had made a grave mistake, and would be either killed or incapacitated by his spell. To Samuel’s surprise, however, the man-made a simple swiping gesture. “Laban.”

The reflected spell shattered apart at once. Wide-eyed, Samuel was slow to react to the next attack, a shard of ice that formed as it flew, striking him in the shoulder. Then the man leaped forward, a knife in his hand, tackling Samuel to the ground. He struck again and again, letting out a constant, inhuman growl. Samuel conjured a barrier to block the knife with each attack, and, after a few seconds of struggling, managed to kick the man off of him. His body was light and feeble due to his exceedingly thin frame, and he hit the ground with a grunt of pain.

Samuel rolled back to his feet, crystalline blade in hand, and struck down. He was even more surprised by the fact that the small dagger, easily one-quarter as long as his blade, held against the stroke easily, with no sign of wobbling or weakness. Samuel disengaged, and released a blast of Ki that sent the man flying back. He took advantage of the short respite to heal the wound in his shoulder from the ice, then turned his attention back to his opponent.

“You’re Ancient,” he said. His voice, in the tense silence following their first exchange, seemed louder than normal. “Why are you breaking away from your purpose to attack me?”

“I have a purpose,” the cloaked figure hissed. “To kill you.”

“To kill me?” Samuel asked, taken aback. “I haven’t done anything to upset any balances, though. And if I had, Grimr would have come for me, surely.”

Almost as if his words had summoned the figure, there was a disturbance in the ground between them both. Grimr rose out of the ground at that spot, almost as if he were a tree growing in rapid time. He opened his eyes to look questioningly at Samuel, then to the right. He took a step back, immediately hostile. Then he jumped back, out of the range of the knife, and drew his own.

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

“Rajlen!” His voice was a low, guttural hiss. “What are you doing here?”

“Rajlen?” Samuel repeated, shocked. “As in the Rajlen Clan?”

“Betrayer,” Rajlen replied casually, his voice equally filled with venom. “You have no part in this. Begone now, and keep tending to your brother’s playground.”

“You’re meant to be sealed,” Grimr growled, ignoring this last comment. “How were you released?”

“You can’t keep me contained, no more than you can contain Chaos.”

Samuel finally understood what had been so off about Rajlen now. From the moment his eyes had met the others’, he’d had the sense that he was… wrong. His very energy was twisted, shaped into something that was not natural. It wasn’t quite Corruption, like the force that had taken over Neratas. No, it was Chaos, the very element that Samuel had spent the last days of his life interacting with.

“I slipped out of the Ethereal Plane thanks to a careless mage who didn’t close the door,” Rajlen continued. “I must thank you for that, young Ancient.”

“This is Menikos, Samuel,” Grimr said, backing away once more. “Rajlen Menikos.”

“What? But he’s not a leviathan.”

“Not anymore,” Menikos said, relishing the fear he felt from the other two. “I discarded that form once I recognized what you were, where you were from. I followed your trail, and found my way back home.”

“He is broken, Samuel,” Grimr said. “He was possessed by Chaos in our wars to shape the world, and we sealed him away.”

“You!” Menikos suddenly spat. “You sealed me away! You and that ungroomed brat of an older brother! You broke me, and then cast me away! You took me from Mother’s safety!”

He sounded like a heartbroken child, Samuel thought, despite the fury radiating through every word. “Why didn’t you kill him instead of sealing him away? Surely that would have been kinder.”

“Oh, they tried!” Menikos screamed, on the very edge of attacking once more. “They tried to cut the Chaos out of me! But you should know, little Ancient!”

Samuel tilted his head and raised the sword in his hand a little higher. “What should I know?”

Suddenly, Menikos’ eyes shifted. They flashed a bright violet, the telltale sign of an Ancient tapping into their powers. His voice deepened, and he lifted the dagger and pointed it at his enemies. “You can’t take Chaos out of a man.”

A thin golden light burst from the ground at Menikos’ feet, shooting into the air for a few dozen feet, and branching off. Innumerable strands broke away from the main, arcing out to form a dome of the golden web. Both Samuel and Grimr immediately ran in the opposite direction to avoid it, but it was too fast. In the blink of an eye, they were caged in. The light web formed a complete blockade, trapping them in with Menikos.

“Damn!” Grimr spat, turning back to face Menikos once more. “It’s been so long, I forgot he could do that.”

“Do what?” Samuel asked, then grunted in surprise. His sword had suddenly become intensely heavy and dropped from his hands. It thudded, point-first, into the ground at his feet. The runes had gone dead. Samuel knew at once, from that and the way he felt the runes on his clothing stop working, what Grimr meant. “Did he just-.”

“Nullify all of our magic?” Grimr said, with a wry snort. “Yes. That’s exactly what he did.”

Now Samuel was aware of fear unlike any he’d ever faced, and he took a step back, running into the web. If he couldn’t use magic, his greatest strength, what could he do against Menikos? He turned, eyes wide, to Grimr. “How are we meant to fight him?”

“I don’t know!” Grimr shouted back, looking just as panicked as he did. “He can stop all magic in this space, including magic from the Mother!”

Menikos began to walk forward now, moving so casually that he might have been taking a stroll along a country path. A cruel, hungry smile was spreading across his face, and Samuel could have sworn that he licked his teeth. The memory of Menikos the leviathan came back to him, and the look in his eyes was identical. He cared for only one thing, had only one need. Hunger. To Samuel, unarmed and helpless, he was the face of certain, unavoidable death.

With a roar, Grimr pounced. He threw himself at Menokos with abandon, swiping his dagger in a blur of strikes. Menikos parried each one confidently, then pushed one hand out, releasing a shockwave. Grimr was thrown back several feet, rolling to his feet. He coughed, and blood appeared, splattering on the ground. Samuel rushed to his side.

“I thought he canceled all magic?” Samuel asked panicked, pulling Grimr to his feet. “How can he use spells to attack?”

“His unique trait is the dome,” Grimr wheezed, pushing off of Samuel. “He locks his prey in a cage and devours them. Only Chaos got to him, and poisoned his mind.”

“His trait,” Samuel said, a sudden idea striking him. “Grimr, do we keep our traits in this dome?”

“Yes,” Grimr exclaimed, between more coughs. “Not that it does us any good. You can only counter if you have the energy to do so, and he’s not breaking balance, so I can’t harm him.”

“That’s not all I can do,” Samuel replied in a low whisper. A tiny light of hope seemed to flare in his chest, pushing back a little of the fear that had taken him over. “I can do more now.”

Grimr looked up at him, blood dripping down his chin, clearly confused. Samuel didn’t expound upon his idea, however, and rose to his full height, stepping out to meet Menikos. The chaotic Ancient let out a high laugh. “You’re a brave one, little Ancient! It’s rare that my prey fights back!”

Samuel broke into a sprint in the last few meters, charging directly for his enemy, giving silent thanks to Tobito for teaching him how to fight without a weapon. He was far from a Master, but he was capable enough and could contend with a small knife. He struck Menikos in the face with a closed fist, sending the Ancient reeling back in shock, then quickly followed the strike with a low, sweeping kick that knocked his legs out from under him. He was on top of Menikos the instant he touched the ground, sacrificing form for power as he continued to rain close-fisted blows down on the man’s head and chest.

Either he was unprepared for the headlong rush, or had next to no skill in hand-to-hand combat, but Neratas was stunned for several seconds, unable to react. But then he blocked Samuel’s next blow with his arm and poured a wave of fire over Samuel. Samuel seemed unfazed by the spell, but in reality, he’d siphoned the mana from it, and it did no damage to him. He continued to beat away at Menikos until the latter finally threw him off. They both rolled to their feet, breathing heavily.

“How are you doing that?” Menikos screamed, his face torn between confusion and fury. “You cannot use magic in my domain!”

“Wrong,” Samuel said, raising his fists once more. “I am magic.”

They dove for each other at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, Samuel saw Grimr staring down at his bone dagger, comprehension appearing to dawn on his face. But before he could figure out what the Ancient was up to, he and Menikos crashed into each other, both punching and kicking for what they were worth. Samuel now found that he had the advantage. When it came to a contest of magic, of course, he was at a hopeless disadvantage. But in martial combat, using techniques that were created after the other lost his mind, Samuel had the edge.

He shoved Menikos away from him, then leaped forward, driving his fist into the bewildered Ancient’s face. The head snapped back, and he was dazed. Samuel flowed from the punch into a series of jabs and crosses, knocking his opponent around with ease. Any second now. Menikos ducked out to the side, and Samuel caught him across the chest with a well-placed kick. Any second now. He spun on the spot, stomping out high. He caught Menikos directly in the throat and heard a rather nasty crunch.

“Samuel!” Grimr’s voice cracked out, and Samuel turned to see what he wanted. Grimr was holding something in his hand and threw it. Samuel reached out with one hand as if to catch it but quickly realized that it wasn’t an object. It was magic, tightly condensed and fading as it flew. It was Grimr’s divine enchantment, he realized. In the small space of time, before it could touch him, he saw Grimr fall, his bone dagger sticking out of his side, beginning to drop to his knees.

Samuel caught the divine enchantment, and it dissolved into raw mana upon contact with his skin. As it traveled across his chest, it changed to Ki. Then it exploded out from his palm as he struck Menikos in the chest. The considerable power of the divine enchantment struck with near-lethal force as it blasted the Ancient into his dome. Then, just like that, the dome vanished, and Menikos took to the air. Samuel felt his mana flare back to life and knew that he’d regained his magic.

He hesitated only a second longer, glancing back to where Grimr was on hands and knees. “You can heal yourself, right?”

Grimr waved briefly in acknowledgment, and Samuel took to the air, charging after Menikos. He reeled the Ancient in easily by slipping in and out of the Ethereal Plane at intervals, clearing huge distances with each transition. In seconds, he was before Meniko, conjuring one barrier to stop him in his tracks. The chaotic Ancient slammed into the barrier, and let out a howl of rage. Samuel bared his teeth, confidence, and power fully restored.

“My turn,” he snarled

“It takes a great deal of power to kill an Ancient,” Menikos said, cackling. “You sure you can do it, fledgling?”

“We’ll see about that,” Samuel replied. He conjured a spear of mana and thrust it into Menikos’ chest. The man screeched as he felt the touch of magic, and Samuel bared his teeth again in a feral grin. “I like my chances.”