《The Magus's Odyssey》 0001 Awakening The pain was blinding¡ªa fierce wave of agony ripping through every nerve in Oden Smith''s head. His consciousness flickered like a candle in a storm, barely holding on to the threads of reality. When he finally forced his eyes open, the world around him swirled in a blur of green and brown. Trees loomed overhead, their branches swaying as his vision trembled. He lay sprawled on a bed of moss and fallen leaves, the damp earth seeping through his clothes. The thick canopy above cast dappled shadows, the forest filled with the scent of pine and soil. But beneath it all, the metallic tang of blood clung to his skin, sharp and unnerving. Panic jolted him as he tried to move¡ªhis body felt weak, frail. His hands, trembling and childlike, touched the sticky warmth of blood matting his hair. A groan escaped him, pain thrumming through his skull as he struggled to sit up. Yet, the pain didn''t let up¡ªit sharpened, drilling into his head as fragments of memories not his own flooded his mind. Lucas''s memories. Warm, innocent moments: laughter, the thrill of adventure, joy in the small things. They clashed violently with Oden''s own past¡ªcold, clinical, a life defined by cruelty and endless experiments to merge his mind with AI. The contrast was jarring, as if two lives were vying for control. But Lucas''s memories softened something in Oden. Though their souls hadn''t merged, Lucas''s curiosity, kindness, and adventurous spirit seeped into him. Oden remained himself, yet felt these new emotions colouring his once bitter mind. A sudden beep broke the chaos in his head.
"Health scan initiated¡­ Scan complete. Head injury detected. Immediate care is recommended,"
the AI''s cold, familiar voice droned, cutting through the noise in his mind. Oden blinked, momentarily grounded. The AI had been a constant presence during the torturous days in the lab. Now, it tethered him to this new world, a reminder of his past life even as Lucas''s memories stirred. "Scan the surroundings," Oden rasped, his voice unsteady from the pain. A holographic display shimmered in front of him, mapping the forest with calculated precision¡ªtrees, wildlife, and¡­ something else. A figure. A shadow moving beyond the trees. The hologram picked up the silent approach of a large, sleek creature. Its fur was dark as night, eyes glowing a piercing yellow. Oden''s heart raced, but Lucas''s memories resurfaced¡ªthis was no enemy. It was Shadow, the black-furred familiar that belonged to Silas, Lucas''s grandfather. Lucas had always admired the creature''s grace, its silent movement through the forest. Now, Shadow padded toward Oden, eyes gleaming with recognition. The enormous cat brushed against Oden''s legs, its warmth oddly comforting. Oden felt a strange sense of calm in the creature''s presence, though it had never been his. Yet, Lucas''s bond with it was clear in his memories, and Oden couldn''t help but feel its protective presence now. Lucas had always ventured into the forest with Shadow by his side, despite his grandfather''s warnings. He''d carried his prized possession, the Crown Eagle bow, a gift from Silas. Made from the bone of a Crown Eagle, the bow was light, flexible¡ªperfect for a child. But now, it rested by Oden''s side, its white surface gleaming in the dappled light. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Oden picked it up, the weight of it familiar through Lucas''s memories but foreign in his own hands. The boy''s love for the bow, for adventure, stirred something in Oden. Despite everything, it gave him strength. Shakily, Oden stood. His body was still weak, but with every step, he felt more grounded in this new reality. The pain in his head dulled, replaced by a strange resolve¡ªa blend of Lucas''s bright spirit and Oden''s hardened will. "I need to get back¡­ Silas will be worried," he muttered, more to himself than to the AI. The memory of Lucas sneaking out, defying his grandfather''s warnings, was fresh in his mind. Now, it was Oden''s burden to return, to face the man who had raised Lucas with care. Silas wasn''t his grandfather. But as Oden trudged through the forest, with Shadow silently following, it felt like he was part of something he hadn''t been before. The journey back through the dense forest took time, but it was different from anything Oden had known. The air was fresh, the world vibrant, alive in ways he had never experienced. Gone were the sterile labs, the harsh lights, the endless torment. This was a world full of life, of possibility. Eventually, the trees parted, and Oden emerged into a clearing. Ahead, the small, wooden cottage stood waiting. The sight of it filled him with a strange warmth, a sense of belonging that felt foreign. He approached the door, Shadow still by his side. With a deep breath, Oden pushed it open. Inside, the familiar smell of earth and wood smoke greeted him. The fire flickered in the hearth, casting shadows across the walls. And there, standing near the flames, was Silas. "Lucas!" Silas exclaimed, his face a mixture of relief and frustration. He rushed over, pulling Oden into a tight embrace. "Where have you been? You had me worried sick!" For a moment, Oden froze. Lucas''s name hung in the air¡ªa name that wasn''t truly his. But looking into Silas''s eyes, seeing the genuine love and care there, Oden couldn''t bring himself to correct the man. Instead, he forced a small smile. "I''m here, Grandpa. I''m fine." Silas sighed, pulling back to inspect the cut on his head. "You''re hurt," he muttered. "You need to stop running off like that." Oden nodded, feeling an odd mixture of gratitude and guilt. He wasn''t Lucas, not really. But Lucas''s memories had changed him, and for now, that was enough. With a concerned expression, Silas placed his hand gently on Lucas''s head and began casting a healing spell. "Don''t worry, Lucas, this will help you feel better," he reassured. A soft green light appeared, forming a simple rune circle in Silas''s palm. Oden, caught off guard, stared in shock at the sight of magic. Lucas''s memories flashed¡ªbrief glimpses of Silas using magic in the past. As the soothing green energy flowed into Lucas, a sudden alert rang from the AI:
"Foreign energy detected in host body. Initiating defensive protocols."
Lucas quickly intervened, mentally commanding the AI to stop resisting and allow the energy to flow. The AI beeped in response:
"Defence protocols disengaged. Warning: AI requires power source for advanced operations. Host''s current energy reserves are depleting and will be enough to sustain."
Lucas realized that to keep the AI functioning properly, he''d need to find a source of energy similar to his grandfather''s magic. As the healing energy continued to work its way through his body, the pain gradually faded, leaving him feeling revitalized. Then Oden sat by the fire, his mind wandered to the Crown Eagle bow, to Shadow curled up in the corner, and to the strange, dangerous world that awaited him. He wasn''t the boy Silas thought he was. But maybe, just maybe, he could become someone new. Someone better. 0002 A Growing Curiosity And Journey Ahead The days drifted by in a gentle rhythm for Lucas. As the first chapter of his new life unfolded, he found solace in the routine of daily chores. The healing magic his grandfather Silas had performed was a marvel that Lucas could scarcely comprehend, but it had left him feeling both physically and emotionally rejuvenated. His head wound was a mere memory now, replaced by a deep sense of relief and curiosity. Lucas continued with the mundane tasks of the household, from tending to the modest garden to caring for the animals. Despite his initial shock and confusion, he gradually began to find comfort in the simplicity of his new life. Silas, though his age was now clear to Lucas as an astonishing 134 years, appeared to be in excellent health, moving with a graceful steadiness that belied his years. His presence was a pillar of strength and warmth, even if Lucas was still grappling with the full scope of his situation. The weeks passed, and Lucas found himself slowly shedding the isolation he had initially cloaked himself in. His memories of Oden''s life had fused seamlessly with those of Lucas, and with them came a growing curiosity about the world around him. Silas had always been a figure of mystery, particularly regarding his magic. The old man had performed spells sparingly, and Lucas had observed this with a mix of awe and frustration. He had tried to inquire about magic in the past, but Silas had always deflected such questions with gentle evasions. One crisp morning, Lucas mustered the courage to broach the topic again. The sun filtered through the canopy of the Weeping Forest, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Lucas, who had been helping Silas prepare for their journey to the nearest village, felt his heart race as he turned to his grandfather. "Hello, Grandpa," Lucas began, his voice trembling slightly. "I... I just want to ask you about the magic you performed that day." Silas paused, his weathered face momentarily obscured by a thoughtful frown. The silence between them was heavy, and Lucas''s heart pounded in his chest. Finally, Silas looked at him with eyes that held both kindness and a hint of sadness. "Magic, Lucas," Silas began slowly, "is very dangerous. It can save lives, but it can also take them. It''s a double-edged sword, one that must be handled with care and respect." Lucas''s eyes widened. "So... what is the magic you did?" Silas took a deep breath. "The World consciousness grants a Mana Seed to selected individuals. You, Lucas, are one of those chosen. The Mana Seed enables us to perform spells, but it must be cultivated into a Mana Heart. Your Mana Seed will mature once you turn seven." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Lucas''s curiosity flared. "Grandpa, do you have a Mana Seed?" Silas nodded. "Yes, I do. The Mana Seed allows a mage to live longer and cast powerful spells. In the coming days, we will go on journey to procure materials for your Mana Seed awakening ceremony." Lucas absorbed the information with a mix of wonder and trepidation. The prospect of awakening his Mana Seed was both exhilarating and daunting. His grandfather''s words had opened a new door of possibilities, and Lucas was eager to explore what lay beyond. As they prepared for their journey, Lucas couldn''t help but reflect on the changes in his life. The quiet countryside, the dangerous yet mesmerizing Weeping Forest, and the enigmatic magic of his grandfather all painted a picture of a world that was both familiar and foreign. The adventure that awaited him was beginning to take shape, and with it, a new chapter of his life was about to unfold. Silas and Lucas set out early the next morning, the air crisp with the promise of a new day. The forest around them was alive with the sounds of nature, and as they rode toward the nearest village, Lucas marvelled at the vibrant landscape. His thoughts were a whirlwind of excitement and apprehension as he considered the path that lay ahead. A few days into their journey, they arrived at the village of Hunterosa, nestled deep in the forest. The village was small, with around 200 people who survived off the land, primarily through hunting. The people of Foxtail referred to them as the "forest people," and it was easy to see why. Their lives were woven into the dense wilderness surrounding them, and they moved with the grace and confidence of those who had spent their lives in tune with nature. As Silas and Lucas entered Hunterosa, the villagers paused in their daily routines, eyes widening in recognition. Without hesitation, they bowed low, their foreheads nearly touching the earth in a gesture of deep reverence. Lucas was taken aback by the sight, unused to seeing such deference. His grandfather, it seemed, commanded great respect here. A tall man with white hair, dressed in simple but well-made clothing, approached them with swift strides. His face was weathered, but his posture was proud. "Ohh... great mage," the man said, his voice filled with awe. "We villagers of Hunterosa welcome you to our village." Lucas glanced at Silas, feeling the weight of the respect his grandfather commanded. Silas nodded with quiet humility. "Thank you for your generosity, but we will just stock our supplies and be on our way," Silas replied, his tone gentle yet firm. The tall man, who Lucas assumed was the village chief, smiled and nodded eagerly. "Of course, sir. Please, allow me to assist you." He hurried off, and soon enough, the villagers had arranged everything they needed¡ªfood, water, and various other essentials. As they prepared to leave, the chief approached once more, his expression more serious this time. "Please be aware, sir," he said in a low voice. "Our hunters have located great hordes of goblins outside Weeping forest. I thought you should know." Silas''s face darkened. "Thank you, chief, for the warning," he said gravely. With that, they departed, continuing their journey. Lucas, still processing the events, felt a new weight of responsibility settling on his young shoulders. The world was dangerous, more so than he had imagined. But with his grandfather by his side, he felt prepared to face whatever challenges awaited them. 0003 The Weight of Mercy The morning sun filtered through the trees as Lucas and Silas continued their journey, the peaceful forest air a sharp contrast to the tension building within Lucas. He had never experienced anything like this before. Despite the calming nature surrounding him, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. As they rode in silence, a falcon suddenly swooped down from the sky, landing gracefully on Silas''s shoulder. The bird let out a series of sharp, urgent cries. Silas''s face darkened as he listened to the falcon''s message, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a troubled expression. "What happened, Grandpa? Is something wrong?" Lucas asked, his voice trembling with concern. Silas''s gaze softened as he turned to his grandson. "There''s trouble ahead, Lucas. Goblins have attacked the nearest village. There might be more of them in our path. Stay close to me, and don''t wander off." The warning Hunterosa chief given turned out to be true. Lucas nodded, gripping the reins of his horse tighter. He had read about goblins in books, but the idea of facing them in reality sent shivers down his spine. Silas urged his horse forward, and they continued their journey. The day wore on, the sun climbing higher in the sky. Eventually, Silas signaled for them to stop. "We''ll rest here for a while," he said. "Lucas, fill the water pouch from the river." Lucas dismounted and walked to the riverbank, the still water reflecting his image back at him. His reflection showed a boy blue eyes, coal-black hair, and a petite frame. He hardly recognized himself sometimes, the face in the water belonging more to Lucas than to Oden. As he knelt to fill the pouch, the AI''s voice suddenly rang in his mind.
"Warning: unidentified life forms detected."
Lucas''s head snapped up, and across the river, he saw a pack of wolves. His heart pounded in his chest as he took a step back, fear gripping him. The smell of meat and fish reached his nose, and as he turned around, his blood ran cold. Standing behind him was the shadow cat he had seen earlier, its dark fur blending with the shadows, its yellow eyes glowing ominously. This was just shadow. Is he messing with me? Lucus murmured to himself. His heart raced, but before he could react, Silas''s voice echoed in his mind. "Shadow, stop scaring my grandson. Fang, keep your eyes on the path ahead. We may need your help with the goblins." The shadow cat, now identified as Shadow, snorted and moved past Lucas, its sleek body brushing against him with love and caring before heading back to Silas. Lucas watched in awe as his grandfather patted the enormous feline, the creature purring like a content house cat. "How can you talk to them, Grandpa?" Lucas asked, his voice filled with wonder as he followed Shadow back to his grandfather. Silas smiled, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. "Every mage has a natural affinity, Lucas. Mine is with nature. It allows me to tame animals and perform basic healing magic. You''ll learn in time, once you start practicing magic yourself. But for now, let''s rest. We have a long journey ahead." As they rested, Lucas''s mind buzzed with questions, but he held them back, unsure if he was ready for the answers. The forest around them seemed peaceful, yet he couldn''t shake the unease that had settled in his chest. When they resumed their journey, Shadow followed closely behind, its presence both comforting and intimidating. As they approached the outskirts of the village, the sight that greeted them was horrifying. Smoke filled the air, and blood stained the ground. The remnants of the goblin attack were everywhere. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, several goblins charged at Lucas. But before they could reach him, Shadow sprang into action, taking down the attackers with swift, lethal precision. Lucas barely had time to react before the goblins were reduced to lifeless heaps on the ground. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. As they ventured deeper into the village, the devastation became even more apparent. Bodies¡ªboth goblin and human¡ªlay scattered across the ground. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. A shrill cry pierced the silence, and Lucas''s heart skipped a beat. He nudged his horse in the direction of the sound, a sense of urgency driving him forward. What he saw next made his blood run cold¡ªa young girl, barely clinging to life, being violated by a group of goblins. Before Lucas could act, the goblins noticed him and charged. But once again, Fang and his wolf pack appeared, tearing the goblins apart before they could reach Lucas. Silas soon caught up, his eyes darkening as he took in the scene. He saw the bloodshot look in Lucas''s eyes and understood immediately what his grandson had witnessed. "This is the law of the jungle, Lucas," Silas said quietly. "The strong prey on the weak." Lucas''s hands trembled as he gripped the reins. "I¡­I''ll kill those goblins. How could they¡ª" "Be careful with your words, Lucas," Silas interrupted sternly. "You''re not strong enough to back them up. For now, you can''t even protect yourself. We need to find supplies and leave this place." As Silas spoke, a movement caught Lucas''s eye. A young girl, no older than ten, crawled out from a hidden space in a nearby house, her face streaked with tears. She stumbled toward the lifeless body of the woman who had just been violated, calling out, "Mama, we''re saved! People are here to help us!" Lucas dismounted and walked over to the girl. The woman''s body was bruised and broken, her eyes vacant, but at the sound of her daughter''s voice, a faint glimmer of life returned to them. She looked at Lucas, her voice barely a whisper. "Please¡­take care of my daughter." Without thinking, Lucas nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. The woman smiled weakly, a tear escaping her eye as she took her last breath. Lucas stood frozen, his heart heavy with the weight of her final wish. Silas placed a hand on Lucas''s shoulder, his voice firm but filled with sorrow. "We have to leave, Lucas. We can''t do anything for her now." Lucas''s mind reeled. "But¡­the girl¡­" Silas sighed, a deep weariness in his voice. "There''s a horde of goblins heading this way. I can''t protect you both. If we save her, she''ll be taken as a slave or worse. It''s better if she finds peace now." Lucas was stunned by his grandfather''s words. His body shook with a mix of anger, fear, and helplessness. "How can you say that? She''s just a child!" "The world is harsh, Lucas," Silas said, his tone carrying the weight of experience. "Better a quick death than a lifetime of suffering." The girl, hearing every word, began to cry silently, her hope crushed. Lucas watched in horror as Silas gently lifted him onto his horse and started leading them out of the village. His heart ached as he looked back at the girl, her eyes full of despair. Then, without warning, Lucas pulled out the bow from his back, his hands shaking as he notched an arrow. His mind was in turmoil, torn between his helplessness and a desperate desire to do something¡ªanything¡ªto help. The girl''s eyes met his, pleading, and in that moment, Lucas''s decision was made. With tears streaming down his face, he drew the crown eagle bowstring and released the arrow. The arrow flew straight and true, striking the girl in the chest. She slumped to the ground, her suffering finally over. Lucas''s hands trembled as he lowered the bow, his heart heavy with the weight of what he had done. Silas stopped, turning to look at his grandson. He saw the anguish in Lucas''s eyes and understood the torment that decision had cost him. "That was the best you could do for her," Silas said softly. "Sometimes, mercy is the hardest choice to make." Lucas didn''t respond, his mind numb from the shock. The weight of the world seemed to press down on his small shoulders as they rode away from the village, leaving the devastation behind. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the forest, Lucas knew that nothing would ever be the same again. As they turned away from the village, Silas''s thoughts drifted back to a time long past. Six years ago... he thought, the memory surfacing against his will. He had found another boy in a similar way¡ªalone, frightened, and surrounded by death. That boy had been Lucas, and Silas had taken him in. At the time, he had told himself it was out of kindness, that he couldn''t leave the child to die. But deep down, he knew there had been more to it. Lucas had a mana seed, a rare gift that Silas had seen as an opportunity, a chance to pass on his legacy. Was it really kindness that drove me to adopt him? Silas mused, his heart heavy with doubt. Or was it the desire to pass on my inheritance, to train a successor worthy of my power? He had struggled with that question for years, the weight of it pressing down on him. But now, as he looked at Lucas, as he saw the pain and confusion in the boy''s eyes, Silas knew the answer. Whatever his reasons had been in the past, they no longer mattered. Lucas had become more than just a student, more than just a vessel for Silas''s magic. He had become family. I''ve come to love him, Silas realized, the thought bringing both pain and comfort. He''s the grandson I never had, and I''ll protect him with everything I have. The years had changed everything. What had started as a practical decision had grown into something far deeper, something Silas could no longer deny. He would protect Lucas, guide him, and love him as his own, regardless of the past. As they rode on, the weight of the past lifted slightly from Silas''s shoulders. He could finally admit to himself that whatever his reasons had been, he was now driven by love, not obligation. And that made all the difference. With a final glance back at the burning village, Silas turned his gaze forward, focusing on the path ahead. The road was long, and there were many challenges yet to come. But for now, he was content to simply be by Lucas''s side, as a grandfather should be. Note: In this world, there are no female goblins. Goblins take human females for reproduction. 0004 The Journey to Almera The third day of their journey unfolded beneath a sky painted in shades of twilight, with Lucas and Silas traveling in silence. The landscape had transitioned from the dense, shadowy embrace of the Weeping Forest to an expansive plain, where the horizon was crowned by the rugged silhouette of the Foxtail Mountains. Despite their majestic name, the mountains barely resembled the tail of a fox, but their imposing presence suggested a formidable journey ahead. While on their journey, Lucas''s AI suddenly beeped.
"Power levels critical. AI requires a new energy source to continue computing and communication. Reserve energy has been depleted. Host is advised to locate a new power source immediately."
He assume AI will need power source like mana but as of now he had to wait till his awakening. As they rode along the dusty path, Lucas observed a steady stream of travellers moving in and out of the forest. The hunters, returning from their expeditions, wore expressions of weariness and defeat, their bodies marked by the trials of the wilderness. In contrast, those heading into the forest wore hopeful smiles, brimming with optimism for their quests. The forest, though free of magical creatures, was no less treacherous. Shadow cats, wolves, and mountain bears lurked within its depths, proving a significant challenge for the average traveler. Lucas marvelled at the prowess of the shadow cat and wolves that had accompanied them. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Shadow and Fang departed, their departure leaving a palpable sense of loss. By nightfall, they reached Foxtail Town. It was a bustling settlement with a population of around twenty thousand. The town thrived on the trade of herbs from the Weeping Forest, animal goods, and local rice. Silas had secured a room at a modest but comfortable inn, its wooden beams and stone walls evoking a medieval charm. After a brief respite, Silas invited Lucas to join him for dinner. They ventured into the heart of the town, where the streets were lined with vibrant stalls and the air was filled with the rich aroma of local delicacies. The town''s prosperity was evident in the bustling inner quarters, while the outer fringes were plagued by poverty and hardship. Lucas couldn''t help but notice the numerous children, some his age and younger, begging for scraps. The disparity between wealth and want struck him deeply. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. They arrived at a tavern, its lively ambiance a stark contrast to the quiet of the inn. Inside, Silas greeted an old acquaintance with a gruff voice. The man, known as Valon the White Eye, was a peculiar figure with a crooked nose and one eye as white as snow, the other a functional, penetrating gaze. He greeted Silas with a mix of warmth and jest. "Ah, Silas! Been ages since I last saw you, old oak. And who might this sprout be?" Valon''s gaze fell on Lucas, who bristled at being referred to as a "seedling." "Name''s Lucas, not ''seedling,'' old man," he retorted, his annoyance evident. Valon chuckled heartily, revealing a set of discolored teeth. "Feisty, isn''t he? Just like you were in your youth, Silas." As they settled at the table, Lucas devoured his meal¡ªroasted pork and vegetable pottage¡ªwith gusto. His mind, however, was preoccupied with thoughts of home. He asked the AI for a recipe from his previous world, only to receive the usual response: "To do basic communication and compute, please find an energy resource." Lucas surmised that the AI was low on power and found some amusement in his predicament. Silas and Valon reminisced about old times, their conversation punctuated by laughter and occasional grumbling. After a while, Silas broached the subject of their journey. "So, Valon, you received my letter, I presume?" Silas asked. Valon nodded. "Indeed, and I gather you and your young ward need a ride?" Lucas''s ears perked up. "But, grandpa, isn''t this our destination?" Silas chuckled. "No, Lucas. Foxtail Town is but a waypoint. Our journey continues. We''re heading to the Almera Kingdom, governed by the true Magus Sir Almer." Lucas was taken aback. "How far do we have to go?" Valon interjected with a sly grin. "I''m a Goliath Griffin rider. I''ll take you as far as you need to go. The cost, however, is two mana stones." Silas''s eyes widened in shock. "Two mana stones? You one-eyed bandit! Why not just rob me outright?" Valon smirked. "If that were my intention, I would have done so long ago." A spirited negotiation ensued, with Silas and Valon haggling for two hours. In the end, they settled on one mana stone for the journey. As the evening wore on, Lucas watched with a mix of fascination and amuse as Valon flirted with the waitresses, his advances bold and direct. The old man''s antics were a stark reminder of the harsh realities of the world. Lucas''s thoughts turned to the Goliath Griffin. He imagined the size of the majestic bird and how swiftly it might travel. Tomorrow, he would see it for himself. For now, the journey to the Almera Kingdom felt like it was just beginning, a mere prologue to the adventures that awaited. As Silas and Lucas retired for the night, the weight of their journey ahead hung heavy in the air. Lucas knew that the path to the Almera Kingdom would be fraught with challenges, but he was determined to face them head-on. The journey, he realized, was not just about reaching a destination but about discovering the depths of his own strength and resolve. 0005 The Goliath Flight The morning was chilly, and Lucas could feel the cold biting into his skin as he and Silas waited outside the small town of Foxtail. A thick fog wrapped around the town, obscuring the view of the majestic mountains that loomed in the distance. The silence was broken only by the soft whistle of the wind, which carried the scent of damp earth and pine needles. Out of the fog, a shadow appeared, gradually taking shape. Valon emerged, his crooked smile already in place as he approached them. "Ready to roll, old oak?" Valon called out, his voice a mixture of laughter and mischief. Silas, smiling mockingly, replied, "Why wouldn''t I be? After all, the mana stone you''re getting isn''t free." The two men exchanged grins, the kind that spoke of years of shared history, adventures, and rivalries. Silas glanced around. "Where is that damn bird?" Valon smirked and shrugged. "He''ll be around." With that, Valon pulled a wooden whistle from his pocket and blew into it. For a few moments, nothing happened. But then, the wind shifted violently, swirling the fog until it began to dissipate. The air grew tense, and Lucas''s eyes widened as the silhouette of a giant creature emerged from the sky. A beast with the legs of a lion and the face of an eagle swooped toward them, its wings beating rhythmically against the air. "There she is," Valon said with a grin. "What a cute bird, eh?" Lucas couldn''t help but laugh at the understatement. "Cute is not the word I''d use," he muttered, half-smiling at the sheer size of the beast. The Goliath Griffin was colossal, standing as tall as a small building, its muscles rippling under its feathers. Its sharp eyes gleamed with an intelligence that made Lucas uneasy. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Valon said. "Get on." Silas groaned, adjusting the straps of his bag. "I''ve always hated traveling on this bird." Valon chuckled. "Oh, my great magus, if you want luxury, why not hire yourself a Sky Whale?" "If I were a magus, I surely would," Silas retorted with a sigh, his tone carrying a mix of sarcasm and weariness. Lucas, not entirely understanding the banter, chose to remain silent as he observed the enormous creature. The griffin had five seats in a single row, each with sturdy leather straps to keep riders in place during the flight. Valon blew his whistle again, and the griffin sat down, lowering itself as a wooden ladder dropped from its back. One by one, they climbed aboard, securing themselves in the seats. Lucas''s stomach tightened as the griffin launched into the air, ascending so quickly that it felt as if the ground had disappeared in an instant. Lucas had expected to be buffeted by the wind, to feel the cold air rushing past his face. But there was none of that. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Seeing the curiosity in Lucas''s eyes, Silas leaned over and pointed to the crown-like object on the griffin''s head. "That''s an alchemical artifact," he explained. "It reduces air drag, embedded with runes that divert wind away from us." Lucas marvelled at the smoothness of the flight. It was faster than any commercial plane he had flown on in his previous world, and as they soared over lush, green forests and rolling hills, he felt a strange mixture of awe and excitement. Valon unrolled a map in front of him, planning the route. Lucas watched from behind, fascinated by the detailed markings. "This is the fastest way to travel," Silas said quietly. "But it comes with its own risks. The route is periodically cleared by the Felmora Magic Association, using protective rune stones to ward off flying beasts and other dangers. Still, there are some creatures even the association cannot deal with." Lucas frowned. "And what if we encounter one of those?" Silas sighed, his gaze distant. "Then we hope for a swift death." Hours passed as they flew across vast landscapes, with Lucas eventually falling asleep, lulled by the gentle sway of the griffin''s movements. He awoke to the sound of Valon''s voice. "We''ll rest here for the night," Valon said, guiding the griffin down toward a safe clearing by the riverside, surrounded by tall mountains. "It''s too risky to fly after dark. If I''m going to die, I at least want to see what kills me before I go," he added with a laugh. Though there were still a few hours before sundown, Valon chose this marked safe zone for the night. After landing, the griffin took off to hunt nearby while they made camp by the river. They shared a simple stew for dinner, with Valon and Silas taking turns keeping watch throughout the night. The next day, the flight resumed. As Lucas gazed down at the lush forests and unfamiliar creatures, he estimated that they had traveled more than 6,000 kilometers¡ªroughly the distance from London to New York in his previous world. Occasionally, they passed by strange, flying beasts, some resembling birds, others straight out of nightmares. In the distance, Lucas''s eyes locked onto a majestic creature that moved gracefully through the air. "That''s a Sky Whale," Silas said with a smile, following Lucas''s gaze. Lucas squinted, finding the creature more than a whale, its sheer size far beyond anything he had seen. It was at least ten times larger than the griffin, gliding near the ground with its mouth open, devouring bioluminescent creatures. As Lucas watched, mesmerized, a sudden roar echoed through the air. The Sky Whale jerked upward, trying to escape, but a massive dragon''s mouth appeared from below, snapping the whale in half with terrifying ease. Valon and Silas exchanged nervous glances, both visibly sweating. "Let''s hope that whale fills the dragon''s belly," Valon muttered, urging the griffin to fly faster. The creature responded, doubling its speed. After a few tense hours, Valon finally exhaled in relief. "I think we''re safe," he said, his voice calming. "We''ll be reaching our destination soon." As they neared the horizon, a sprawling city came into view, dominated by a hill crowned with a grand palace. The city spread as far as the eye could see, the largest Lucas had ever encountered in this world. "We''re almost there," Silas said. "That''s Almera, the capital." In a few hours, they landed outside the city. Valon dismounted first, holding out a pouch of mana stones in payment. "Our journey ends here," Valon said with a grin. "But don''t worry, seedling," he added to Lucas. "We''ll meet again when you need a ride back." Valon placed a hand on Silas''s shoulder, his tone suddenly serious. "Be careful, old fart. Be aware of the ghosts you''ve buried here." Silas''s expression hardened as he nodded heavily. Silas and Lucas began walking toward the city gates, the sprawling metropolis of Almera looming before them like a vast, untamed beast. Turning to Lucas, he spoke in a low, measured voice. "Be careful in Almera, Lucas. This city is filled with cunning and evil people. Stay close to me and¡ªabove all¡ªdo not reveal our true identity here." Lucas, his mind already swirling with questions about his grandfather''s past, nodded in silent agreement. As they stepped through the gates of the vast city, Lucas couldn''t help but wonder what dark secrets lay ahead in the heart of Almera. 0006 The Capital City Almera As the sun dipped below the horizon, darkness crept across the land, swiftly chasing away the last remnants of daylight. The evening air grew cooler as Lucas and his grandfather, Silas, approached the towering gates of Almera. From a distance, Lucas could already see the grandeur of the city¡ªits towering stone walls stretched across the land, separating the outside world from the bustling heart of civilization. The city of Almera was no ordinary place. Massive walls encircled it, not once but twice. The outer walls held the common folk¡ªfarmers, merchants, and travelers¡ªbut within those walls lay another set, enclosing the elite, the noble class, and those with power. Above it all, nestled on a hill like a watchful sentinel, stood the palace. Its towering spires seemed to pierce the sky, and no matter where you stood in the city, it always felt as though the palace loomed above you, its gaze following your every move. As they drew nearer to the gate, Lucas noticed two other massive gates. One was reserved for heavy carts, traders moving goods in and out of the city, while the other was for nobles and the influential. Almera had structured itself perfectly, segregating the populace by their status. Silas reached into his pouch and pulled out a brooch, a polished emblem with intricate runes etched into its surface. He fastened it onto his chest before veering towards the lane where only nobles and prestigious figures were entering. Lucas, curious, couldn''t help but ask, "What is that, Grandpa?" Silas smiled, the deep lines on his weathered face softening. "This," he said, tapping the brooch, "is a Novice Apprentice badge from the Felmora Magic Association. It''s not just a symbol. This badge will open doors to places others can only dream of entering." Lucas studied the badge closely. The intricate runes seemed to glow faintly, and for a brief moment, he felt a strange compulsion to bow before his grandfather, as though the badge carried with it an invisible force of authority. They soon reached the smaller side gate guarded by soldiers dressed in gleaming armor, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. One of them stepped forward, his voice stern as he barked, "State your business in Almera!" Without hesitation, Silas raised his voice, his tone calm but commanding. "I am a wandering Novice Apprentice mage, and this is my disciple. We seek to explore the wonders of your great city." The guard, noticing the badge, straightened at once. His previous air of authority melted away as he bowed slightly, his tone now reverent. "Apologies for my rudeness, sir. We didn''t realize you were a mage. Please, enter freely, and know that you''re exempt from any tolls." Stolen novel; please report. Lucas watched in awe as the once imposing soldiers stepped aside, making way for them to enter the city. He was beginning to understand the true power and respect that mages commanded in this world. Once inside, they found a modest inn, exhausted from their travels. The night passed quietly, and as the sun rose the next morning, the city of Almera came alive. Silas decided to take Lucas on a tour of the city, and they strolled through the bustling market streets, the air filled with the scent of exotic spices and freshly baked goods. Vendors lined the streets, calling out to potential customers. Musicians played joyful tunes, and acrobats performed daring tricks to earn a few coins. Lucas marveled at it all. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. As they passed one particular stall, Lucas''s attention was drawn to a vendor selling hot pies. The aroma wafted through the air, causing his stomach to rumble. "Grandpa," Lucas said, tugging at Silas''s sleeve, "can we get one?" Silas chuckled. "I suppose we could. It''s been a while since I''ve had one myself." They approached the vendor, a cheerful man with a large belly and a wide grin. "Two pies, please," Silas said, handing over a few coins. The vendor, wiping his hands on his apron, handed them two steaming pies. "May the great Magus Almer bless you both!" the man said with enthusiasm. Lucas, biting into his pie, looked up at the vendor. "Who is Magus Almer?" he asked through a mouthful of food. The vendor''s eyes widened slightly as if surprised by the question. "Magus Almer? Why, he''s the protector of this city. Without his guidance, Almera would have crumbled long ago. That statue in the central square? That''s him." Lucas glanced over to the central square, where a towering statue of Magus Almer loomed above the city. It stood nearly a hundred feet tall, the figure carved in great detail, from his chiseled jawline to his long flowing hair. Despite the statue''s age, it still seemed as majestic as the day it was built. "That statue was erected by the first King of Almera," Silas explained as they walked away from the stall. "The king and Magus Almer were close friends, and in honor of their bond, that monument was built. Almer is said to have been one of the greatest True Magi to ever live." Lucas stared in awe. "How could they have built something like this?" "With power," Silas said simply. "In this world, power bends not just people but the very laws of nature. A great mage can shape the world to their will." Lucas wondered about the power of this Magus, and how such a massive statue could be built with such precision. As he stared up at it, he could almost feel the weight of the legacy that loomed over the city. After exploring more of Almera, both Silas and Lucas returned to their inn for a brief rest. The city had been enchanting, with its vibrant streets and awe-inspiring sights, but Silas had a different plan for the evening. "Get some rest, Lucas," Silas said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Tonight, we''ll be going out again. There are some herbs and potions I need to collect from a friend." "Where are we going?" Lucas asked, curiosity in his voice. Silas smiled faintly, his eyes glinting with a secretive look. "We''re going to the black market." 0007 In Shadow, We Prosper Lucas awoke in the fading light of evening to find his grandfather absent. Stretching his small limbs, he slipped out of the room and wandered down to the inn''s dining area. The warm scent of cooking food greeted him, and the place bustled with patrons enjoying their meals. At the counter stood a large, cheerful woman serving dishes to a group of men. Lucas approached her and asked gently, "Excuse me, lady, have you seen my grandfather?" The innkeeper, with her broad smile, turned to him and said, "Oh, your grandpa? He''s been out since noon, young one. Don''t you worry, he''ll be back soon enough. Would you like something to eat in the meantime? I can have it ready in a flash." Her voice was soft, surprisingly tender, given her imposing appearance. Lucas was about to decline when two girls, one around twenty and the other close to his age, burst from the kitchen. The older one eyed him with curiosity and a teasing smile. "Mama, who''s this cute boy?" she asked. The innkeeper waved her hand dismissively. "He''s the grandson of that old man staying here. Now back to the kitchen with you, both of you!" Before the younger girl could speak, the innkeeper grabbed both girls by the ear and dragged them back into the kitchen. Lucas could hear her scolding them as the door swung shut. "How many times have I told you girls not to come out here? There are drunken men about, and your father isn''t around!" the innkeeper yelled. "But Mama, we just wanted to say hello to the cute boy!" one of the girls protested. Moments later, the innkeeper returned, setting down a steaming bowl of porridge in front of Lucas with a smile. "The girls like you, handsome boy. Now, eat up!" Before Lucas could respond, she hurried off, leaving him at the table. Through the crack of the kitchen door, he saw both girls peeking out at him, giggling. Shaking his head, he dug into the meal, spooning the warm porridge into his mouth. It was surprisingly delicious, the rich flavor of spices and herbs soothing after the long day. Just as he finished, his grandfather, Silas, arrived. "Good, you''re having dinner," Silas said approvingly. Lucas looked up and asked, "Where were you, Grandpa?" Silas sat down, his face unreadable. "I had to meet someone important." His tone didn''t invite further questions, and Lucas knew better than to press him. Some things his grandfather wasn''t ready to explain, and he wouldn''t force the issue. The innkeeper called from across the room, "What''ll it be for you, sir?" "Just one ale," Silas replied, waving her off. Lucas quickly finished his meal, and after Silas paid the coins, they left the inn and ventured into the streets of Almera. They passed through the prosperous part of the city, where the streets were lined with merchants and lanterns, but it wasn''t long before they reached the slums. Here, the air was thick with the stench of filth, and the distant cries of the downtrodden echoed through the narrow alleys. Lucas wrinkled his nose at the foul smell of human waste and rotting food. "Grandpa, where''s the black market? I don''t see anyone." Silas glanced down at him and said calmly, "We''re almost there. Just a little farther." They turned a corner into a shadowed alley, and the world around them seemed to close in, the sounds of the bustling city fading behind them. Ahead, shadowy figures emerged, their presence ominous. Some carried daggers, others swords. Their eyes gleamed with power, and Lucas felt the tension tighten in his chest. His AI, ever silent since their arrival in this world, remained unresponsive. Frustrated, Lucas muttered, "How many are there? How strong?" The same cold response came, lacking the clarity he needed:
Please find a power source. Not enough energy for computations or communications.
He cursed inwardly. The AI, his golden finger in this new world, had been practically useless. Since his transmigration, he had felt like a passenger in his own life. Though he was smart, he was also painfully aware of the limitations of his current six-year-old body. There was little he could do now. Silas, sensing Lucas''s internal struggle, squeezed his shoulder gently. "Stay calm," he said softly, before stepping forward. One of the men, a burly figure with a scar across his face, stepped closer, his dagger flashing in the dim light. "State your business," he growled, his tone dripping with menace. Without hesitation, Silas spoke firmly, "In shadow, we prosper." At those words, the men melted back into the darkness, disappearing as if they had never been there. Ahead, a heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing a passageway leading down. As the door opened, the sound of lively chatter and bustling crowds filled the alley, and Lucas realized there had been a soundproofing spell over the entrance. Beyond the door, the black market lay, teeming with activity. Stolen story; please report. Lucas stared in awe, his heart racing with excitement and fear. Silas led the way, and as they stepped through the threshold, Lucas knew they were entering a world far more dangerous and secretive than he had ever imagined. Lucas and his grandfather stepped through the entrance of the black market, a world hidden beneath the city''s shadows. Inside, the atmosphere was starkly different from what Lucas had expected. The shops were grand and sprawling, their interiors brightly lit and meticulously organized. Many shopkeepers wore the same brooches as Silas¡ªmarking their association with the prestigious Felmora Magic Association. There were stores selling rare magical items, exotic herbs, and ingredients from strange creatures. Shelves stacked high with books on ancient spells, rituals, and knowledge that could change a mage''s life forever. It felt more like a place of power than the dark, secretive market he had envisioned. But as they ventured deeper, the sinister side of the black market revealed itself. To his right, Lucas heard a burly man shouting. "Healthy men from Casendia Kingdom! Slaves for sale, with collars to ensure loyalty! They won''t disobey!" Lucas''s heart sank as he saw the rows of broken men, shackled and bound, their spirits crushed. Further down the street, a group of women, nude and frightened, were on display, as merchants tried to entice passersby. "Noble girls from Casendia, my lord! They''ve fallen from their families and territories¡ªyours for an affordable price! Please, sir, visit our establishment for a private showing." Lucas''s stomach churned at the sight. He turned his gaze away, unwilling to witness any more of the marketplace''s cruel reality. "Is this what people become for a few coins?" he thought bitterly. In the end, humans could become far worse than beasts. Though disgusted, he knew he couldn''t act now. He had no power. Not yet. Lost in thought, Lucas fell slightly behind. Silas, noticing his grandson''s absence, looked back and called softly, "Come along, Lucas. We''re almost there." They moved toward a rundown shop at the edge of the market. To Lucas''s eyes, it looked abandoned. "This place looks closed, Grandpa," Lucas said, confused. Silas smiled knowingly. "Not from the front, it isn''t." He led Lucas around to the back of the building, where a weathered door stood hidden in the shadows. Silas pushed the door open, and immediately, a sultry voice echoed from within. "Who''s there?" came the sound of a woman''s voice, low and teasing. Silas grinned. "Marona, I thought you''d be waiting for me with open arms after receiving my letter." The door swung open, revealing a woman in her forties, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She smirked at Silas, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and familiarity. "You sly old fox," Marona teased, stepping aside to let them in. The interior was clean and spacious¡ªcompletely opposite from the shop''s dilapidated exterior. "So," Marona said, eyeing Lucas, "this must be the grandson you were talking about." Her gaze lingered on Lucas, sizing him up. Silas nodded with pride. "Yes. And it''s for him that I''m taking these risks." Marona chuckled, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "What''s so special about him, Silas? Is he really worth all this trouble?" Silas laughed heartily. "He''s my grandson, for one. And if we waited another four years, his mana seed would have awakened naturally. But I''ve learned the hard way that, in the grand scheme of things, the younger you awaken, the better your chances for higher ascension." Marona''s playful demeanor faltered for a moment, sadness flickering in her eyes. "I can''t argue with that," she said softly. "We''ve both seen what happens when time runs out." Silas glanced at Lucas and nodded toward Marona. "Lucas, let me introduce you. Marona was a junior of mine at Felmora Magic Academy." Lucas hesitated, his mind swirling with questions. "How¡­how is that possible?" he stammered, unsure how to phrase his thoughts. Before Silas could answer, Marona stepped in with a smile. "I''ve awakened and connected all seven chakra points in my mana heart. I''m what they call an Intermediate Apprentice. Your grandfather, on the other hand, is still a Novice Apprentice." Her voice was teasing, but there was affection in her tone. Silas, with a grin, replied, "I have my reasons for staying a Novice Apprentice, but I''ll have you know I was always the smarter one." Marona flicked her hand dismissively. "Sure, sure, Senior Silas. You were a handsome devil back in the day." Silas chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Well, maybe beneath these old bones, you''ll still find a charming, handsome man." They both laughed, their shared history palpable. But Lucas remained silent, his thoughts elsewhere. After a moment, he spoke, his voice heavy with emotion. "How much time do you have left, Grandpa?" The playful atmosphere shifted immediately, tension hanging in the air. Silas sighed deeply, his gaze somber. "Ten years. Fifteen, at best." Lucas felt a lump rise in his throat. "Why can''t you ascend like Marona? You could extend your life." Silas looked down at him, his expression gentle but resigned. "My body''s vitality is gone, Lucas. I have no strength left for ascension. If I tried, I''d die." Lucas''s eyes filled with unshed tears. He looked to Marona, who offered a soft smile. "Cheer up, Lucas," she said, her tone light. "Fifteen years is more than enough for this old man to drive you mad. Besides, I can''t ascend any further myself. I''m going to enjoy my last hundred years gambling and drinking." Lucas managed a weak smile, but the weight of the conversation still lingered. For a moment, the room was silent. Finally, Silas cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "So, do you have what I need?" Marona nodded, walking over to a chest and pulling out several items. "Here''s the mana seed awakening potion, the Night Slugworm, a mana heart from a low-level magical beast, and some vitality herbs." Silas took the items, gratitude in his voice. "Thank you, Marona. I can''t tell you how much I appreciate this." Marona waved him off, her smile returning. "Oh, don''t thank me just yet. You can thank me by paying 25 mana stones." She laughed playfully, but Lucas''s jaw nearly dropped. He knew how valuable a single mana stone was. They''d used just one to travel miles on a griffin! Without hesitation, Silas handed over the stones, knowing Marona had already done more than enough for him. He then said, "In 15 days, I''ll need your help with Lucas''s awakening ceremony. I trust I can count on you?" Marona nodded with a mischievous smile. "Anytime, Senior. You know I can''t resist being part of something this important." After exchanging a few more memories from the past, Silas and Lucas left the black market, their minds full. Lucas, lost in thought about the awakening ceremony and his grandfather''s fate, barely noticed the passage of time. The weight of the future pressed on him, but exhaustion soon overtook him, and as soon as they returned to the inn, Lucas collapsed into bed, his mind racing with the possibilities¡ªand the challenges¡ªthat lay ahead. 0008 World鈥檚 Whisper The days leading up to Lucas''s awakening ceremony felt both slow and swift, as if time itself was conflicted. He had pestered his grandfather with endless questions about magic, but each time, Silas''s response was the same: "Magic is not that simple, Lucas. If someone without a mana seed awakened if tries to learn or use magic, they either go mad or worse¡ªthey die. Knowledge is powerful, but patience is essential. Once you''ve completed your awakening, I''ll tell you everything I know." That was how it always ended. Silas would pat his shoulder and leave, disappearing for hours at a time. Lucas wondered where his grandfather went and what he did, but more than anything, he felt the weight of guilt. The old man loved Lucas deeply, and yet here he was, an intruder in his body, filling the shoes of someone else''s grandson. "I''ll repay him," Lucas promised silently. "Somehow, I''ll make this right." In those restless days, Lucas established a routine of physical training, pushing his young body to its limits. He knew that a healthy body was essential for a strong mind. Silas observed with amusement, one day asking, "Where did you learn this?" Lucas''s mind raced for an excuse. "I, uh... I thought of it myself," he mumbled awkwardly. Silas said nothing more, just giving one of his knowing nods before leaving once again. Despite the questions, Lucas could never bring himself to ask where his grandfather went. Some truths were better left undiscovered¡ªat least for now. During this time, the innkeeper''s two daughters, Aline and Betha, had grown fond of him. Aline, the older one in her twenties, teased him often, insisting he call her "sister." "Come on, Lucas! Call me sister!" Aline would say, ruffling his hair as if he were a child. "You''re part of the family now." Betha, the younger one, would always chime in afterward. "Hey! I''m your sister too! You''ll call me sister as well, right?" Lucas sighed, nodding with a grin. "Yes, yes, I''ll call you both my sisters." "Good!" Betha giggled, giving him a quick hug before darting off to help their mother in the kitchen. Aline smiled at him warmly, a familial look in her eyes. "You know, Lucas, we''re happy to have you here. It''s been livelier since you came." Lucas felt a strange warmth in his heart. This family, though simple, had welcomed him so easily. They treated him like one of their own. "I''m happy to be here too," he replied softly, meaning it more than they could ever know. The days continued like this¡ªquiet and comforting, with Silas occasionally taking Lucas out for sightseeing. They shared peaceful moments in the bustling city, walking past street vendors selling delicious food. Silas would look at his grandson with a wistful smile, as if cherishing these fleeting moments of calm. At last, the fateful evening arrived. Silas led Lucas back to the black market, their footsteps echoing through the labyrinthine streets. Once again, they reached Marona''s shop. The bell jingled as Silas pulled the rope, and soon, Marona appeared, her sharp eyes gleaming as she greeted them. "Ah, Lucas! Ready for your big day?" she asked with a grin, her voice dripping with amusement. Lucas, feeling anxious and overwhelmed, managed only a nod. Marona led them down into the shop''s basement. The room was dimly lit, but Lucas could see the intricate rune circle carved into the stone floor, glowing faintly with an otherworldly blue light. Silas moved forward, producing the lower beast''s mana heart from his bag and placing it at the center of the circle. Instantly, the rune lines flared to life, humming with raw energy. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Don''t be nervous," Silas said softly, his voice calm but commanding. "Just keep your mind steady. Now, step into the circle." Lucas took a deep breath and lay down in the center of the rune, his heart pounding in his chest. The room felt thick with anticipation, and then... Marona leaned over, her ample figure casting a shadow over him and her bosoms saying hello to him as she handed him a vial filled with a blood-red liquid. "Drink this," she instructed, her tone now serious. Lucas gulped the potion down in one swift motion. The taste was so acidic and bitter that he nearly gagged, but what followed was worse. A fiery heat erupted inside him, starting from his heart and spreading through his veins like molten lava. Sweat poured down his face as his muscles tensed painfully, his body trembling uncontrollably. Seeing this, Marona quickly grabbed a mana herb paste she had prepared earlier and forced it into his mouth. As the paste dissolved on his tongue, a cold, soothing sensation fought against the heat, creating an intense internal battle within him. The two forces¡ªheat and cold¡ªwarred in his body, until finally, his temperature began to stabilize. But just as Lucas thought the worst was over, something else happened¡ªsomething far more powerful. A sudden, overwhelming force crashed into him like a tidal wave. His vision turned white, and then... total darkness. He drifted in that darkness for what felt like days, lost and weightless. Time had no meaning here. Then, without warning, warmth enveloped him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt¡ªcomforting, compassionate, as vast as the cosmos yet as gentle as a mother''s embrace. This power wasn''t just a force¡ªit was alive. It filled him with a sense of belonging, of purpose. The darkness gave way to light, and before him appeared the largest planet he had ever imagined. Blue and vibrant, teeming with life and energy. It was as if the world itself was speaking to him, its consciousness reaching out with an ancient, primal love. He realized, in this moment, he was connected to the world consciousness. "Grow in power," the voice whispered in his mind, "and protect this world." Suddenly, his vision shifted. He saw swirling vortexes inside him¡ªchaotic forces of fire, water, lightning, air, earth, and darkness. The dark vortex was the largest, its shadow engulfing the others. Fire raged beneath it, while the smallest vortex¡ªa swirling chaotic energy¡ªseemed almost fragile by comparison. As Lucas stared at the vortexes, everything around him began to shake violently, pulling him back to reality. Distant voices broke through the haze. "Lucas! Lucas, can you hear me?!" Silas''s voice echoed, filled with urgency. Lucas opened his eyes slowly. The world was blurry at first, but eventually, he saw his grandfather shaking him awake, concern etched deeply into his face. "What happened?" Lucas asked, his voice weak. Silas exhaled, his tension easing slightly. "You were unconscious for ten hours," he said gravely. "The awakening should have taken half an hour at most. What... did you see?" Lucas''s throat was dry, his body exhausted, but he forced the words out. "It was dark... and then... there was this immense power. Something gentle, something vast. I... I think it was the world itself." Silas''s eyes widened. "The world consciousness?" he whispered, incredulous. "What in the name of the great Magus...?" Marona''s voice broke in, shocked. "The world consciousness? That''s only spoken of in legends. No one''s felt that for centuries, if ever." Silas looked down at his grandson with a mixture of awe and fear. "Come, Lucas. You need rest. We''ll talk about this later." Marona, still buzzing with questions, tried to press further, but Silas waved her off. "Let him rest, Marona. This was... more than we expected." As they left the basement, Lucas could barely keep his eyes open. His body was beyond exhaustion, and yet, just as he was about to drift into sleep, a familiar beep echoed in his mind. "New energy source detected. System requires an update to sync and utilize this power. Please confirm: Yes or No?" Without hesitation, Lucas focused his mind. Yes.
"System update initiated. Estimated completion time: 12 hours."
And with that, Lucas succumbed to sleep, the events of the day swirling in his dreams. 0009 The Secrets We Keep Lucas slept like a log, his body utterly exhausted from the awakening ceremony. When he opened his eyes, the room was dim, and the soft glow of evening light filtered through the window. The first thing he noticed was his grandfather, Silas, sitting in a chair, an old book in hand, reading quietly. Silas, sensing Lucas''s gaze, looked up. "So, you''ve finally woken up," he said, his voice tinged with care. "How do you feel?" Lucas''s stomach growled loudly, answering the question for him. "Hungry," he admitted sheepishly. Silas chuckled. "Well, that''s a good sign." Just then, the door creaked open, and Marona entered, carrying a steaming dish that filled the room with an exotic aroma. The sight of the food sent a wave of hunger crashing through Lucas''s body, and it took everything in him not to leap at the plate like a starved beast. Marona placed the dish in front of him, and he wasted no time, digging in like a goblin at a feast. As he devoured the food, the familiar beep of the A.I. Chip sounded in his mind:
[Magical properties detected in food. This will replenish your mana and assist in the recovery of vitality.]
Curious, Lucas asked internally, "How much mana will this food restore, and how much do I have right now?" The A.I. Chip paused before responding:
[This meal will restore 0.05 mana per serving and aid in the recovery of 0.1 vitality points. Current Mana: 1.0 | Current Vitality: 0.35]
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Not bad," he thought, feeling the warmth spread through his body as the magical food did its work, replenishing his mana and slowly restoring his vitality. While eating, the A.I. Chip beeped again, asking:
[Do you wish to scan your body?]
Lucas nodded internally, and the system beeped again, projecting a small 3D holographic display of his current stats:
[Lucas (Age: 7). Strength: 0.3 | Agility: 0.4 | Vitality: 0.35 | Mana: 1.0 | State: Post-Awakening]
The ideal human stats hovered nearby for comparison:
[Ideal Healthy Human. Strength: 1.0 | Agility: 1.0 | Vitality: 1.0 | Mana: N/A]
Considering he had just turned seven, Lucas realized his stats weren''t bad at all, especially with his newly awakened mana. "Can you scan Grandpa and Marona?" he asked internally. The A.I. Chip hummed for a moment and then displayed:
[Silas. Strength: 1.2 | Agility: 1.3 | Vitality: 1.25 | Mana: 140.0 | State: Novice Apprentice]
[Marona. Strength: 2.1 | Agility: 2.5 | Vitality: 2.3 | Mana: ? | State: Intermediate Apprentice]
The A.I. Chip beeped again.
[Unable to determine exact mana for Marona. Protective layers blocking further probing.]
Lucas blinked, his spoon frozen mid-air, stunned by the results. His grandfather, at the age of 134, still had impressive stats¡ªespecially his staggering mana level of 140. But what shocked Lucas more was Marona. Her stats were double that of an ordinary human, and the A.I. Chip couldn''t even measure her mana. Stolen story; please report. "Something wrong, Lucas?" Silas asked, noticing his grandson''s bewildered expression. Lucas quickly shook his head and continued eating, though his mind was racing. He hurriedly finished his meal, wanting to ask a dozen questions, but before he could speak, Silas raised his hand to stop him. "Marona," Silas said, turning to the woman. "I''d like to speak privately with my grandson for a bit. Could you give us some quiet time?" Marona''s face tightened for a moment, but she said nothing, nodding before leaving the room. Lucas watched her go, half expecting her to say something snappy, but she remained silent. As soon as she was gone, Silas whispered a few words and cast a spell. Lucas could now see the runes and magical diagrams form around them¡ªa Dome of Silence. It shimmered faintly, enclosing them in a bubble of privacy. "What was that?" Lucas asked, fascinated by the spell. "A silence spell," Silas replied. "No one outside can hear what we discuss." Lucas tilted his head. "I was going to ask about magic... but why did you ask Marona to leave?" Silas chuckled softly. "Because, Lucas, there are only two people you can trust with your abilities and your secrets: yourself and the dead. Since I''ll be in the second category soon enough, your secret''s safe with me." Lucas was a bit taken aback. He had always thought Marona was a close friend of his grandfather''s. Silas, noticing his confusion, leaned in and explained further. "In the Magus World, trust can be bought with the right number of mana stones, and lives can be taken with just as little. Mark my words, Lucas¡ªtell your secrets to the deaf, show your plans to the blind, and take advice for your life from the mute." The weight of those words settled in Lucas''s heart. He nodded slowly, absorbing the profound lesson. Silas continued, his tone more serious than ever. "I want you to keep the knowledge of the world consciousness a secret. Hide your flame, and only let it burn when your life depends on it. Remember, flames that burn twice as bright burn half as long." Lucas could feel the deep care and wisdom behind his grandfather''s words. It was as if, for the first time, Silas was revealing the true cunning and ruthlessness that lay beneath his usually kind exterior. His gaze was sharp, calculating. "I know you''re no ordinary boy," Silas said quietly. "Last night''s ceremony proved that much." Lucas simply nodded, taking it all in. This was the longest and most serious conversation he had ever had with his grandfather. Finally, Silas asked, "What affinities did you awaken?" Lucas hesitated for a moment, then explained the chaotic forces he had felt: fire, water, lightning, air, earth, and most notably, darkness. The dark vortex had been the largest, its shadow overwhelming the others, while the chaotic energy had seemed fragile by comparison. Silas''s face paled slightly when Lucas mentioned the dark element. "Lucas... listen carefully, my boy. Never tell anyone about the dark mana." Lucas frowned. "Why? Is it that dangerous?" Silas nodded gravely. "Dark mages carry a heavy stigma in the Magus World. The practices needed to cultivate dark mana... they''re inhuman, cruel. Because of this, dark mages are hunted relentlessly. No matter how powerful the dark element may be, if other mages find out you possess it, they will kill you." Lucas swallowed hard, fear tightening in his chest. "I... I understand." "And you have other elements too, which is good. But be warned¡ªtrying to cultivate too many elements will leave you a jack of all trades but master of none. Focus on one or two and excel in them." Lucas nodded, still processing everything. "So, Grandpa... what elements do you have?" Silas smiled faintly. "Water and earth. Common elements, but trying to cultivate both made it harder for me to progress. My arrogance held me back, which is why I''m still a novice apprentice." Lucas realized just how difficult it was to become a Magus. It wasn''t just power¡ªit was strategy and discipline. Silas continued, "If anyone asks, tell them you have fire and earth. Those are safer to reveal." Lucas nodded seriously, understanding the gravity of his grandfather''s advice. With that, Silas dispelled the silence spell, and they both stepped out of the room. Marona was busy working on potions when she noticed them. She placed down the vials and smiled at Lucas. "Well, I hope this old fox taught you well," she teased. "I was hoping to have a talk with you, but I see Silas beat me to it. We''ll speak tomorrow." Silas, turning serious again, spoke to Marona. "About last night... I trust you''ll keep everything under wraps?" Marona smiled and waved him off. "Of course, Silas. You don''t need to ask." The two shared a genuine smile before they parted ways. As Lucas followed his grandfather, his mind buzzed with everything he had learned. The Magus World was far more complex and dangerous than he had ever imagined, but he knew one thing for certain¡ªhe would rise to meet it. 0010 The Path to Power The next day, before dawn, Silas shook Lucas awake. "Get up, boy. Your training starts today." Still groggy, Lucas obediently followed his grandfather outside the inn. Awaiting them were two massive horses, brought by a short, muscular man. The horses were unlike anything Lucas had ever seen¡ªmore bull than horse in their build, with powerful, broad chests and thick legs. "Thanks, Gerold," Silas nodded to the man. Gerold bowed low. "It''s my pleasure, sir Magus." Silas chuckled softly. For common folk, anyone with a hint of magic was a "Magus," though Silas knew the difference between an apprentice and a full Magus was like comparing a candle to the sun. Still, he wasn''t going to correct anyone if the misconception benefited him. Lucas couldn''t contain his curiosity. "Are these... really horses?" Gerold smiled and replied, "Young master, these are Wetland Horses from the far west of Almera. They''re used for long-distance travel." "What are their names?" Lucas asked, still in awe of their size. With a jesting tone, Gerold responded, "The big male is called Biscuit, and the not-so-small mare is Cookie." Lucas blinked, dumbfounded. "Biscuit? Cookie?" he repeated, clearly baffled. These majestic creatures had such... plain names. Gerold, noticing Lucas''s confusion, laughed heartily. "The names suit them! You see, if anyone messes with these horses, they''ll crumble them like biscuits and cookies!" Lucas smiled, realizing the cleverness behind the names. Whoever had named them must have been quite the character. "Let''s go, Lucas," Silas urged. He placed a hand on the horses'' necks, and immediately, the beasts seemed to calm, looking at Silas with a strange intelligence in their eyes. "Now they''ll listen to us," Silas explained. "These horses don''t like just anyone riding them." Lucas was mounted on the mare, Cookie, and Silas on the stallion, Biscuit. "Don''t be afraid," Silas reassured him. "They won''t hurt us." As they set off, leaving the city behind, Lucas asked, "Grandpa, what did you do to the horses back there?" "Oh, that," Silas replied casually. "That''s my ace up the sleeve¡ªAnimal Bond. Magic isn''t all about casting grand spells. There''s more to it than just mana. You''ll learn in time." After a few hours of riding, they reached a remote clearing. "This spot looks good. Rest for a bit and have something to eat. We''ll start your training here," Silas said as he dismounted. Lucas ate his lunch quickly, feeling both nervous and excited. Silas stood nearby, leaning on his cane, watching him with a thoughtful expression. "Lucas," he began after a pause, "I''ve taken a great risk bringing you to Almera. My past... it''s starting to catch up with me. So, learn everything you can¡ªquickly." Lucas was about to ask what his grandfather meant by "past" and "risk," but before he could, Silas continued. "Let''s begin. You''ve heard of the mana heart¡ªit''s like a furnace, and mana is the fuel. The energy it creates is shaped by the element you''re attuned to¡ªfire, water, earth, and so on. The stronger your affinity, the less energy you''ll need to cast spells of that element." Silas paused for a moment, observing Lucas closely. "I have water and earth affinities. I can cast spells from other elements, but it costs me much more mana and energy. The higher the level of the spell, the steeper the mana cost." He then produced a worn scroll from within his robes. "This... is something I''ve risked my life for¡ªa mana tempering method from my family. This technique has taken me years to perfect." Silas unrolled the scroll, and Lucas''s eyes widened at the intricate runes and symbols inscribed on it. "Memorize this over the coming days," Silas instructed. "Then, using your mana, try to cast the spell. The energy you create will pass through your body''s nodes. But beware¡ªguiding energy through your body can be dangerous. Finding the proper paths and nodes takes time and patience." Lucas took the scroll with a determined look. AI, scan the rune scroll and save it. He commanded in his mind.
[Beep! Scanning... 0.3 mana used. Saving the mana tempering rune.]
Lucas felt a slight dizziness as the AI''s scanning drained his mana. He now had just 0.7 mana left. Silas watched him from afar, amusement flickering in his eyes. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. The way Lucas stared intently at the scroll, trying to learn it all at once, reminded Silas of himself. He chuckled quietly, lost in memory. He had been just like Lucas¡ªeager, hungry to master everything immediately. It had taken Silas several years to even understand the basics of this technique, and here was Lucas, trying to absorb it in a few minutes. The memory of his younger self brought a smile to Silas''s lips, though he knew better than to interrupt the boy''s concentration. In his mind, Lucas continued, AI, draw the rune as instructed. Use steady mana.
[Beep! Drawing rune... Steady mana flow engaged.]
The rune was complex. Even with the AI''s assistance, it took nearly two hours to complete. Lucas felt faint, his head pounding. He was down to 0.2 mana now. "Should I stop?" he wondered, but his stubbornness won out. He continued, focusing his remaining mana into guiding the energy through his body''s nodes.
[Beep! Mana nodes located. Energy routed.]
Sweat poured down Lucas''s face, and Silas watched from afar, wide-eyed. "In the name of the Great Magus... What is happening?" Silas whispered to himself, the amusement from earlier vanishing, replaced by awe. Lucas persisted, even as his vision blurred. AI, keep guiding the energy, he commanded, but the AI gave a warning.
[Beep! Mana reserves depleted. Activating safety measures. Dispelling rune to prevent backlash.]
Lucas collapsed as the rune dissipated. Silas rushed to him, casting a basic healing spell, though it barely helped. After two hours, Lucas finally stirred. "What... happened?" Lucas asked groggily. Silas was pacing, muttering under his breath. "Did you manage to draw the rune circle on your first try? That''s impossible!" His voice was full of disbelief. "How did you...?" Lucas, still exhausted, nodded. "I managed to pass energy through two nodes," he said quietly. Silas stared at him, speechless for a moment. Then he shook his head in wonder. "You might be the greatest prodigy the Magus world has ever seen." A flicker of pride rose in Lucas''s chest at his grandfather''s words, but Silas''s tone grew stern. "Don''t overdo it, Lucas. Mana depletion can kill you if you push too far." Lucas nodded, understanding the gravity of his grandfather''s warning. "It''s getting dark," Silas said, his voice softer now. "We''ll head back to the city." As Silas rode Biscuit back toward the city, the setting sun cast long shadows across the landscape. His thoughts were a whirlwind of amazement and reflection. What have I witnessed today? Silas mused, his mind racing. Lucas¡ªmy grandson¡ªhas demonstrated a level of talent that''s beyond anything I could have imagined. He glanced over at Lucas, who rode Cookie with an exhaustion-soaked, yet satisfied expression. To channel energy through multiple nodes on his first attempt, without causing a backlash... It''s nothing short of extraordinary. Silas''s thoughts turned inward, grappling with the implications of Lucas''s abilities. He''s no ordinary apprentice. With his talent, he could rise to become a True Magus, officially recognized, within a fraction of the usual time. The pride Silas felt was tinged with a fierce determination. I''ve spent years, even decades, mastering the basics and perfecting my skills. If Lucas can achieve so much in such a short period, then it''s my duty¡ªmy privilege¡ªto pass on everything I know. His gaze softened as he watched Lucas''s focused, yet tired expression. I must ensure he''s prepared for what lies ahead. The challenges of the Magus world are far from kind, and the path to True Magus is fraught with peril. But with Lucas''s aptitude, he could reshape his destiny, reshape ours. Silas''s heart hardened with resolve. I''ll use every remaining moment to teach him everything I''ve learned¡ªevery spell, every technique, every secret of our family''s magic. He has the potential to become something truly remarkable, something greater than I ever could have dreamed. The ride continued in contemplative silence, Silas''s thoughts a blend of pride, urgency, and a burning desire to equip his grandson for the trials that awaited him. With Lucas''s gift, the future holds endless possibilities. If only I can prepare him for the path he must walk... As the city lights began to twinkle in the distance. Soon they approached the city gate, a low whistle caught their attention. From the darkness stepped a tall, scarred man, one hand missing, his face worn with years of hardship. Silas''s expression darkened instantly. He waited as the man approached. "Long time no see, Silas," the man rasped, his voice rough and cracked. "Melius," Silas said coldly. His posture stiffened, and behind him, Lucas saw a water whip slowly begin to form, swirling ominously. The old man cracked a dry smile. "Easy there, Silas the Kin-Slayer. I''m just here to talk." Hearing the title Kin-Slayer, Lucas noticed the sudden fury in his grandfather''s eyes. The water whip grew sharper, more defined. Lucas had never seen Silas so angry before. A water whip began to rotate behind Silas. Melius raised his one hand in surrender. "Alright, alright. I''m just here to warn you. Word''s out. If I''ve heard that the infamous Silas Magenthor is back in Almera, others have too." Silas''s eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Melius?" Melius chuckled, his scarred face twisting in amusement. "I came to warn you for old times'' sake. Nothing more. Just... watch your back." Silas''s gaze remained hard, his voice low. "Meet me tomorrow evening at Dragon Tooth Tavern." Melius shook his head. "Don''t drag me into your mess, Silas. I don''t want any part of it." With a faint smile, Silas simply replied, "You''re already involved, old friend. I''ll see you there." Nudging his horse forward, Silas left Melius standing in the shadows. Lucas glanced back, sensing the tension in the air. Something was brewing¡ªsomething dangerous. 0011 Shadows of Vengeance The following day, Lucas sat cross-legged on the floor of the inn''s spare room, tempering his mana with the rune circle technique. His small hands trembled as he focused on guiding the energy through his body. He could now pass the energy through three mana nodes, though he knew from the AI''s calculations that there were 800 nodes in total to unlock. "AI," Lucas murmured in his mind, "check my stats and show me any improvements after using the rune circle." A soft beep echoed within his consciousness before the AI responded, a faint blue holographic display appearing before his eyes:
[Lucas (Age: 7). Strength: 0.3 | Agility: 0.4 | Vitality: 0.35 | Mana: 1.3 | State: Post-Awakening]
He noticed his mana had increased by 0.3 since his last session. "AI, how much more can this technique improve my mana capacity?" The AI beeped, its mechanical voice calm and factual.
"Based on current development, this technique will allow you to increase your mana capacity up to 12."
Lucas sighed, feeling the weight of reality settle on his shoulders. "Twelve? That''s all?" He had expected more. His heart yearned for more¡ªmore power, more knowledge. But for now, this was what he had. This was the road he had to walk. As the morning passed and exhaustion began to take its toll, Lucas decided it was time for a break. The room felt stifling, and his body ached from the steady, rhythmic pulse of mana coursing through him. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn''t eaten since dawn. Lucas joined his grandfather for lunch in the inn''s modest dining area. The two of them ate in relative silence, with Silas offering quiet pointers about the mana tempering method between bites. Lucas listened intently, absorbing every word, though his thoughts still churned with curiosity about the meeting they would attend later that day. Silas had been strangely reserved since dawn, a quiet intensity shadowing his features. The normally calm, grandfatherly air about him seemed shrouded in something darker, something Lucas couldn''t quite grasp. As evening approached, Silas booked a carriage for their journey to the Dragon Tooth Inn. The city of Almera bustled with life, its winding streets glowing in the soft amber light of twilight. Merchants called out to potential buyers, and the scent of roasting meats and spiced wine filled the air. Yet despite the lively surroundings, a tension lingered between Silas and Lucas. When they arrived, Lucas was awestruck by the grandeur of the Dragon Tooth Inn. The main hall was massive, filled with the scent of wood smoke and aged ale. A massive yellowed tooth, nearly as tall as a man, hung from the ceiling as a decoration, casting long shadows across the room. It emanated a faint, almost imperceptible magical aura. One of the inn''s staff noticed Lucas staring at the relic. "That there''s the tooth of a dragon, lad. Slain by the great Magus Almer himself. This inn''s been standing since his time." Lucas nodded, though he couldn''t tear his eyes away from the relic. The power radiating from it was unlike anything he''d felt before. Even long-dead, the dragon''s magic still lingers, he thought. They settled at a table near the back of the hall, waiting for Melius to arrive. Time passed, and Lucas''s patience began to wane. Just when he was about to give up hope, the door creaked open, and a familiar, weathered figure shuffled inside. Melius, tall and scarred, with a missing hand, scanned the room warily before approaching their table. "Why''d you bring the pup?" Melius growled as he sat down, his eyes darting between Lucas and Silas. Silas remained calm, meeting Melius''s gaze with the same unwavering composure he always carried. "He''s my grandson, and he''s old enough to know the truth. I trust him." Melius scoffed. "You? A family man? That''s a surprise." His voice dripped with sarcasm. Silas leaned forward, his expression unchanged. "I need your help, Melius." Melius''s face darkened, his brows knitting together. "I warned you, Silas. Out of kindness, I came to give you a heads-up. And now you''re dragging me into this mess?" He clenched his one good fist on the table, his scarred knuckles white with tension. "You always knew how to twist a man''s arm." "Don''t forget," Silas replied coldly, "this mess didn''t start with me alone. We began this long ago, and I kept my word¡ªI kept your name out of it. Now I need you to return the favor. Not for me, but for Lucas." Melius let out a long sigh, his resistance crumbling under Silas''s steady gaze. "Aye, but it won''t be free. I''ll expect payment." Silas''s lips twitched into a wry smile. This greedy bastard hasn''t changed one bit. "You''ll be compensated." This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Lucas, who had been listening quietly, couldn''t keep his confusion at bay any longer. He looked at his grandfather, his voice trembling with both frustration and curiosity. "Grandpa, why? You''ve always kept secrets from me. You''ve always told me I wasn''t ready to know. What is this all about?" Silas looked at his grandson, his eyes softening for the briefest of moments. He took a deep breath and finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "There''s much I haven''t told you, Lucas. And now... it''s time you learned the truth." As they sat in the dimly lit corner of the Dragon Tooth Inn, the weight of the atmosphere seemed to press down on Lucas. The flickering candlelight danced across Silas''s weathered face, illuminating the deep lines etched from years of hardship and sorrow. The inn, filled with the soft hum of murmured conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses, felt distant, as if the world outside their table had ceased to exist. Silas took a deep breath, his eyes clouded with melancholy. His voice, usually steady and reassuring, now carried the weight of a thousand regrets. "Lucas," he began, his words heavy as iron, "there''s something you need to know about me¡ªabout our family." Lucas, sensing the gravity of the moment, remained silent, his young eyes locked onto his grandfather''s. Silas''s gaze drifted, as if he were looking into the distant past. "I come from an ancient magus family¡­ the Magenthors. A powerful house in the kingdom of Almeria, serving under the wing of Sir Almer, the Great Magus himself. Our lineage stretches back thousands of years. Our ancestor, the great Magus Magenthor, was a figure of immense power, revered by many." Lucas listened intently, the name Magenthor stirring something within him. Silas continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I was born into the branch family¡ªa bastard child, the result of my father''s affair with a housemaid. My mother¡­ she was kind and loving, despite the harsh treatment she endured from my father''s wife. And by some twist of fate¡ªwhether fortune or curse¡ªI was born with a mana seed. Not the legitimate children¡­ only me." Lucas noticed how Silas''s hands clenched tightly, his knuckles white. The pain of that memory was fresh, even after all these years. "I was taken in by the main family," Silas went on, his voice quieter now. "Adopted as a Magenthor. They gave me everything¡ªwealth, status, and the chance to attend Felmora Magical Academy with the other children of the main house. I thought¡­ I thought my mother and my little sister would finally be safe. That they would no longer suffer." Silas paused, his face growing darker as the memories returned. "For twenty-five years, I trained at the academy, working my way up to become a novice magus. And when I returned, eager to see my family¡­ I found that my mother had been killed by my father''s wife. My sister¡­ my sweet, innocent sister had been sold as a sex slave." His voice cracked, and for the first time, Lucas saw tears in his grandfather''s eyes. Lucas felt his heart clench at the sight, his young mind trying to process the cruelty of this world. "I tracked her down," Silas continued, his voice trembling. "But the sister I found wasn''t the girl I remembered. She was broken, aged beyond her years, her spirit shattered. When I told her who I was, she cried¡­ and then she screamed at me. ''Why did you leave, brother?'' she yelled. ''Why did you leave us? Mom is dead, and I''ve been¡­''" Silas''s voice trailed off as his hand trembled. "She was right. I left to chase my dreams, and in doing so, I left them to suffer." Silas''s tears fell freely now, and Lucas sat frozen, the gravity of his grandfather''s confession sinking deep into his bones. "She stayed with me for a few days¡­ but the pain was too much for her. She took her own life. I buried my sister with my own hands, and with her, I buried my humanity. I swore revenge on those who had wronged us." Lucas could feel the anger radiating from his grandfather now, the quiet fury that had simmered for decades. "I hired Melius," Silas said, nodding toward the scarred swordsman sitting across the table. Melius''s broad frame leaned back in the chair, his one remaining arm resting on the table. His other arm, lost during the bloody massacre of the Magenthor family, was nothing but a stump hidden beneath his cloak. "He was a Blade of the Ember, a skilled aura swordsman. Together, we slaughtered them all¡ªmy father, my brothers, their wives, even their children. I was consumed by rage, Lucas. I killed everyone in that house¡­ even the servants who had turned a blind eye to my family''s suffering." The silence that followed was suffocating. Lucas stared at his grandfather, the man he had always seen as kind and gentle, now revealed to be a man who had committed unspeakable acts in the name of vengeance. "And for that," Silas whispered, his voice hollow, "the main family¡ªthe Magenthors¡ªhunted me down. My brother, Thoren, showed me mercy, sparing my life but damaging my mana nodes beyond repair. He left me broken, a shadow of my former self." Lucas swallowed hard, the weight of Silas''s confession pressing down on him. The firelight flickered in his grandfather''s eyes, reflecting both sorrow and resignation. "And now, by coming here, I''ve risked everything," Silas said, his voice steadying. "The Magenthors will know I''m alive, and they''ll come for me. But Lucas, I brought you here because I want you to carry on my dream. I want you to become the greatest magus this world has ever seen. And, more than anything, I want you to live a life of happiness¡­ something I''ve never known." Lucas''s eyes welled with tears. "No, Grandpa! I won''t let anything happen to you! I''ll protect you. I''ll use everything¡ªmy wits, my power¡ªI''ll make sure nothing happens!" Silas smiled faintly and nodded, his gaze softening. "I know you will, Lucas. I believe in you." He turned his attention to Melius, who had been sitting in quiet observation. "If anything happens to me, Melius¡­ take Lucas to Marona. Protect him." Melius, the grizzled one-armed swordsman with scars etched deep into his face, leaned back in his chair, crossing his one arm. "You old fox, you''re not going to die that easily. But¡­ fine. I''ll do it." Lucas clenched his fists, a vow forming deep in his heart. I will not let anything happen to Grandpa. No matter what it takes. As they left the inn, the cold night air bit at Lucas''s skin, but inside, his resolve burned brighter than ever. He glanced at his grandfather, the weight of his legacy now resting heavily on his young shoulders. I will protect you, Grandpa, Lucas thought, his mind racing with determination. I''ll make sure your dream lives on. In the quiet of the night, as they going back to the inn, Silas watched Lucas closely. His grandson''s raw talent¡ªhis ability to temper mana so quickly, to master the first steps of an ancient technique that had taken Silas years to learn¡ªwas beyond anything Silas had ever seen. What kind of monster talent is this boy? he wondered. With his power, Lucas could one day become a true magus, something I never achieved. Silas''s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sadness. If I only have a few years left¡­ I''ll spend them teaching Lucas everything I know. I''ll make sure he''s prepared for the world that''s coming for him. But... the Magenthors... they won''t stop until I''m dead. If they find us... His thoughts drifted back to the promise Lucas had made. Maybe... just maybe... he''s the one who can change everything. 0012 Pursuit For The Dual Path After the tense meeting with Melius at the Dragon Tooth Inn, the grizzled swordsman began accompanying Silas and Lucas to the outskirts of Almera for daily training sessions. The city, though filled with intrigue and danger, was not the place for Lucas to learn the arts he needed to survive in the harsh Magus World. Melius, despite his age and missing arm, was a formidable figure. He wielded his great sword, Honeyblood, with remarkable ease, its edge gleaming menacingly in the early morning light. Lucas had always found the sword''s name a little odd, but he''d never dared ask for its meaning. Something about the way Melius carried it¡ªalmost reverently¡ªmade Lucas hesitate. There were stories there, buried beneath the gruff exterior, but Melius wasn''t the kind of man who offered answers easily. One morning, while they paused at a secluded field, Lucas felt a surge of curiosity. Silently, he summoned his AI. "AI, display Melius''s stats." The AI beeped, and moments later, the information appeared before Lucas''s eyes.
[Melius - Strength: 2.8 | Agility: 2.5 | Vitality: 1.6 | Aura: 104 | State: Aura Adept ¡ú Blade of the Ember]
Lucas stared in disbelief. Strength and agility almost three times higher than a normal human... but his vitality is lower. It wasn''t just impressive¡ªit was otherworldly. He had learned that most humans didn''t possess Aura, the mysterious force that Melius wielded like a second skin. The swordsman''s power came not from mana, but from Aura, a raw, physical energy that could enhance the body, imbuing it with incredible strength and speed. Aura could even be projected through the blade, slashing at enemies from a distance like an invisible knife. Melius wasn''t just powerful¡ªhe was a force of nature. "The Aura¡­ so that''s what makes him so strong," Lucas muttered to himself. "But why is his vitality so low compared to the rest?" It was clear that, while Melius''s strength and agility were unparalleled, his body had suffered from years of battle. No wonder, with all the scars he bears¡ªand losing an arm. Even Aura can''t protect him from everything. As Lucas processed this new information, he also realized that Aura and mana were entirely different powers. The two forces didn''t mix. Aura flowed like water, bending and shaping to the will of a knight, while Mana was like fire¡ªwild and forceful. One day, after hours of tempering his mana, Lucas approached Melius as they stood under the shade of a large oak tree. "Melius," Lucas began, wiping the sweat from his brow, "can you teach me swordsmanship? And Aura, if it''s possible?" Melius, who was sharpening Honeyblood with slow, deliberate strokes, let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Teach you, boy? I''m no teacher or babysitter." He shook his head, his one arm still easily handling the massive blade. "Your grandpa paid me to protect you, not to train you. Besides, you should focus on your magic tricks first." "But..." Lucas hesitated, then glanced at Silas, who had been watching from a short distance. "What if I learn both?" The laughter stopped. Melius''s face hardened as he sheathed his sword, his eyes narrowing at the boy. "Both? Mana and Aura don''t mix, kid. Never have. They''re like fire and water¡ªopposites. I''ve only heard of people trying to master both in legends. They say it always ends in failure." Lucas turned his gaze to Silas, searching for a sign of encouragement. Silas, however, merely nodded. "He''s right, Lucas. No one''s ever been able to control both powers. Magic and Aura require entirely different disciplines. But," Silas added, his tone softening, "you can still learn basic swordsmanship. It''s good for self-defense, even if you never master Aura." Melius interrupted, his voice gruff. "I said I won''t teach the boy." Silas smiled knowingly. "We''ll see about that." For the first time in his life, Lucas saw a grown man¡ªMelius, the battle-scarred, one-armed swordsman¡ªpout like a child. He''s strong as an ox but sulks like a boy who lost his toy. Few following days, Lucas continued his mana tempering training. Silas had introduced him to some basic spells, what they referred to as "level zero" spells in the Magus World¡ªsimple but essential for any novice mage with Earth and Water affinities. Earth Affinity Spells: Pebble Shot ¨C Silas levitated small rocks and pebbles, propelling them with moderate force. Effect: Causes minor bruises or distractions. Mana Cost: 1-2 mana. Soil Shift ¨C With a simple gesture, Silas could soften or compact a small area of soil, creating minor obstacles. Effect: Manipulates terrain up to a square meter. Mana Cost: Minimal. Stone Skin ¨C Summoning the earth, Silas hardened his skin briefly, giving him protection against minor attacks. Effect: Absorbs light damage for a few seconds. Mana Cost: 2-3 mana. Dust Veil ¨C A swirl of dust appeared around Silas, blinding anyone caught within the 5-meter radius. Effect: Obscures vision for a few minutes. Mana Cost: Minimal. Water Affinity Spells: Dew Touch ¨C Summoning moisture from the air, Silas could produce a small amount of water on his hands. Effect: Useful for cleaning or hydrating. Mana Cost: Minimal. Water Whip ¨C With a flick of his wrist, Silas could manipulate a thin stream of water like a whip, lashing at targets. Effect: Disrupts footing or causes stinging pain. Mana Cost: 2-3 mana. Mud Pool ¨C By mixing earth and water, Silas turned the ground into a slippery, muddy trap. Effect: Causes targets to slip. Mana Cost: 2-4 mana. Mist Shroud ¨C Summoning a thin veil of mist, Silas could obscure himself or nearby objects. Effect: Covers a small area in mist (3 meters). Mana Cost: Minimal. Combined Earth & Water Spells: Mud Ball ¨C Silas hurled a ball of sticky mud at his target, blinding or slowing them momentarily. Effect: Temporary blindness or hindrance. Mana Cost: Minimal. Clay Bind ¨C With a wave of his hand, the ground transformed into sticky clay, ensnaring the feet of his enemies. Effect: Binds a target''s feet for up to 10 seconds. Mana Cost: 3-5 mana. Over the days, Lucas diligently copied all the rune circles for these spells. He tasked the AI to analyze the spell structures and identify any commonalities. It beeped back its response:
AI Task: Spell Rune Analysis ¨C Estimated Time: 3 days.
As Lucas progressed with his training, Melius introduced him to the basics of swordsmanship. One morning, the grizzled swordsman presented Lucas with a dull iron sword. "This is for you, boy," Melius said, his one arm steady as he handed Lucas the blade. "Remember, you asked for this." He demonstrated basic stances, strikes, and parries, his movements fluid despite his missing hand. Lucas, eager to learn, watched closely. As Melius practiced, Lucas whispered, "AI, record everything." Beep. The AI captured every detail of Melius''s stance and swordplay, creating a visual guide in Lucas''s mind. When it was Lucas''s turn, he felt confident. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "AI, guide me." Lines of light appeared in his vision¡ªblue outlines showing him the correct positions for his arms, feet, and sword. Lucas started mimicking the moves, his body stiff but determined. However, what he knew intellectually was far different from executing it in reality. His limbs began to falter, his strikes growing sloppy, his energy draining rapidly. Melius chuckled deeply. "Swordsmanship is a lot harder than your magic tricks, huh?" He watched Lucas with a wry grin, clearly amused by the boy''s exhaustion. Lucas wanted to argue, but he was too winded to respond. His chest heaved as sweat poured down his face. "You magic-users are sly foxes," Melius teased. "I could take all of you down if you fought with honor, like real men." Silas, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. "Says the man who strengthens his body with Aura and sharpens his blade with it, too. Don''t talk about ''honor'' when you wield it so freely." Both men burst into laughter, their shared history softening the tension. But Lucas, drained and frustrated, collapsed onto the ground. He caught a glimpse of Melius sitting beneath a nearby tree, meditating. Curious, Lucas whispered again to the AI. "AI, analyze Melius''s meditation." Beep.
Analyzing¡­
Observation complete. Melius is practicing Aura Tempering, a process similar to Mana Tempering. The energy source is focused near the navel, where the Aura Core resides.
"Aura Core?" Lucas thought, his curiosity piqued. "Do I have one?" Beep.
Scanning¡­ No Aura Core detected in host''s body.
The answer left Lucas dumbfounded. How did one acquire an Aura Core? Was it something like a mana seed? He shook his head and resumed his Mana Tempering. The next few days passed in the same routine¡ªsword training, Mana Tempering, and learning spells from Silas. Finally, after three long days, the AI beeped once again. Beep.
Rune Analysis Complete: 8% understanding achieved. Further data required for deeper analysis.
Lucas groaned in frustration. Three days, and he was only at 8%? Rune circles were far more complex than he had initially thought. Despite this, his training was showing results. Lucas''s mana capacity had nearly doubled, and his physical attributes were slowly improving as well. The AI displayed his updated stats: Beep.
[Lucas (Age: 7) ¨C Strength: 0.34 | Agility: 0.45 | Vitality: 0.37 | Mana: 2.3 | State: Post-Awakening]
The mana tempering had given him a significant boost. His swordsmanship was improving as well, albeit slowly. Melius, who had been silently observing his progress, was clearly impressed. "I have to admit," Melius muttered one afternoon as they trained, "You''re picking this up faster than I thought. If you weren''t on the Magus path, you''d make a damn fine Aura Swordsman. Maybe one of the best this world has ever seen." Lucas, though proud of his progress, was torn. The path of the Magus had been chosen for him, and he was determined to walk it. Yet, the allure of Aura, the strength it granted, tempted him more than he was willing to admit. Still, he pushed on with his mana training, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Could he master both? In the past few days, Melius had surprisingly softened toward Lucas. The mocking tone and sharp remarks were still there, but underneath them was a growing sense of care. It puzzled the grizzled swordsman. Am I getting soft? he wondered. So this is how Silas feels. As Melius trained Lucas in swordsmanship, his thoughts drifted to a time when he had considered family. If life had taken a different path, perhaps he too would have had grandchildren. He chuckled inwardly at the thought. Suddenly, a sweet voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Sir Melius, I have some questions." Lucas''s polite tone made Melius show a playfully exhausted expression, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "Tell me, my little Great Magus. How can this lowly Aura Knight serve you?" His words dripped with sarcasm, but the boy was used to Melius''s antics by now. Lucas smiled but kept his tone serious. "I can''t feel any Aura inside me. Is someone born with it, like mana?" The question caught Melius off guard. He blinked, then scratched his chin thoughtfully. "No... no one is born with Aura, boy. It''s nothing like a mana seed." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Aura is... different. It''s a living energy, and it can only be sparked inside someone by another who already possesses it." Melius shifted his position, the weight of his words sinking in. "But there''s a cost. Whoever ignites the Aura spark in someone else loses a part of their own Aura¡ªnot all of it, but enough to set them back. The only people who would willingly do this are either old men who have given up cultivation... or kind-hearted fools." Lucas''s eyes widened at this revelation. "So any normal person can become an Aura Knight if someone ignites the Aura spark within them?" Melius nodded slowly. "In theory, yes. But it''s not that simple, boy. Aura isn''t like mana¡ªit''s a living, breathing force, and it can''t be passed lightly." Suddenly, an idea formed in Lucas''s mind¡ªa bold one. He smiled sweetly, his voice almost too innocent. "Sir Melius... could you ignite the Aura spark inside me?" Melius had just taken a hearty swig of ale, and upon hearing Lucas''s request, he choked and spluttered, nearly spraying the drink everywhere. "Hell no, kid!" Melius barked, wiping his mouth. "You think I''m that dumb? If I agreed to that, I''d lose a part of my own Aura. And how are you supposed to use it with mana? That''s insanity!" "But I have a plan!" Lucas insisted, his eyes gleaming with determination. Melius''s face darkened. "A plan, you say? You''ll ''try,'' huh?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping dangerously low. "You''re crazier than your old fart of a grandfather." "Please," Lucas begged. Melius huffed, clearly annoyed. "A ''please'' won''t cut it, kid. You have no idea what you''re asking." The grizzled swordsman couldn''t believe the nerve of the boy. To him, Aura wasn''t something easily given¡ªhe had fought for years to earn it. His captain had bestowed it upon him as a mark of war glory, and now this little brat was asking for it like it was a piece of candy. For the next 20 days, the routine was the same. Each morning, they would ride out of Almera for training¡ªLucas would train in swordsmanship and mana tempering, and each day, on the way back, Lucas would pester Melius about igniting his Aura spark. Initially, Silas would step in, explaining why it was a bad idea. But after Lucas''s persistence, even Silas gave up. Melius, on the other hand, was becoming more and more miserable. Each morning, when he saw Lucas''s innocent grin, his heart sank with dread. Finally, on the 21st day, Melius snapped. "Kid, you''re driving me insane!" he growled. "I can''t take it anymore!" Over the past weeks, Melius had grown closer to Lucas. The boy''s swordsmanship was coming along faster than expected¡ªhis form was starting to look seasoned, his strikes sharper. In truth, Melius had wanted to ignite Lucas''s Aura spark but had been holding back out of concern for the boy''s well-being. After discussing it with Silas, he finally made his decision. "If Lucas says he has a way to do it, there''s a chance he might succeed," Silas had said. "But it''s up to you, Melius. I don''t want you to lose any part of your Aura unless you feel it''s right." Melius grumbled. "Why wouldn''t I give that brat anything? He''s been driving me mad with those puppy eyes and smug little grin! I care about my well-being, Silas! Not him!" He tried to sound tough, but both he and Silas knew the truth. Later that day, after training, Lucas approached Melius with the same innocent voice. "Sir Melius, could you please ignite the Aura spark inside me?" Lucas expected Melius to lash out, but instead, the old swordsman gave a resigned sigh and muttered, "Yes." Lucas blinked, shocked. "What... what did you say?" "I said yes, you damn kid!" Melius barked, visibly exasperated. "But after this, leave me the hell alone!" A few moments later, Lucas sat shirtless, cross-legged on the ground, while Melius, sweating slightly, placed his only hand on Lucas''s stomach. Silas stood off to the side, his cane in hand, watching silently. Melius concentrated, and soon, Lucas felt a cool shiver run through his body. The AI immediately sounded an alarm. Beep.
Foreign energy detected. Aura presence invading host''s body. Repelling with mana.
Lucas quickly silenced the AI. "Lower all defences. Let it in." For several long minutes, nothing happened. Then, slowly, Lucas felt it¡ªa new energy, calm and powerful, swirling within him like the steady tides of the ocean. It was vastly different from the raging inferno of mana. Aura felt controlled, purposeful. He opened his eyes gradually and saw Melius sweating profusely. "AI, scan Melius," Lucas thought. Beep.
Scan complete. Here are the updated stats for Melius:
[Melius - Strength: 2.8 | Agility: 2.5 | Vitality: 1.6 | Aura: 84 | State: Aura Adept ¡ú Blade of the Ember]
Beep.
Analysis: Permanent drop of 20 Aura points detected.
Lucas''s heart sank. He had expected a drop in Melius''s Aura but not this much. Why had Melius done this? Lucas knew, deep down, there was only one reason¡ªbecause Melius had started to care about him. "Are you alright, sir?" Lucas asked, concern etched in his young face. Melius, catching his breath, chuckled. "I''ll be fine, kid. But you better make good on your promise, or I''ll whoop your ass." Lucas nodded firmly. "I will, sir. I promise." But then, Lucas hesitated and corrected himself. "No... uncle Melius." Melius, visibly uncomfortable with the title, huffed but couldn''t hide a small smile. "Don''t say that. It''s ''sir'' to you." Lucas, with his puppy-dog eyes, grinned. "But I thought you liked it." Melius, closing one eye as if in pain, muttered under his breath, "Do as you please, kid." "Yes, uncle Melius," Lucas responded cheerfully. And so, the bond between them, once forged out of reluctant obligation, solidified into something stronger¡ªsomething like family. 0013 The Helix Method A month and a half had passed recently Melius had ignited Lucas''s Aura spark. In the days following, Lucas dedicated himself to his most daring plan yet¡ªintegrating both Aura and Mana to use simultaneously. He had a spark, yes, but no real way to cultivate it. Melius provided rough lessons, though they were nothing like the refined teachings of his grandfather, Silas. The ancient swordsman knew Aura like the back of his hand, but his knowledge was fragmented, filled with half-remembered tales from a long, war-torn life. "Listen, you fool," Melius growled one morning, watching Lucas attempt another round of Aura tempering, "Aura and Mana are different. Completely. I''ll guide you, since you tricked me into sparking that damn thing inside you. But don''t go dying on me, kid." Lucas couldn''t help but grin. "Are you worried about me, Uncle Melius?" Melius coughed, clearly flustered. "Don''t get full of yourself, boy. I''m only worried about my payment! If you die, your grandpa won''t pay me." Lucas chuckled but remained silent. Beneath the gruff words, he sensed something more¡ªa bond, forged not by blood but by trials. Melius continued, pacing with his great sword slung over his shoulder. "Aura... it''s living energy, physical and raw. It flows through your body''s physical nodes. Mana? That''s spiritual, ethereal. It''s like the air you breathe, everywhere. But Aura... it''s like breathing underwater. Hard. Dangerous. You get me?" Lucas nodded, though Melius''s teaching was far from precise. Unlike Silas, Melius wasn''t a good teacher. But Lucas had something the grizzled swordsman didn''t¡ªhis AI. AI, analyze the Aura tempering scroll. Can we improve it? The AI beeped in response.
"Analyzing. The Aura tempering technique is similar to Mana tempering. Adjustments needed. Calculating... Estimated time: 3 hours."
As the hours passed and they returned to Almera, Lucas reflected on the grueling past month. His muscles ached daily, and exhaustion became his constant companion. But in that pain, there was progress. Each day, he grew stronger. Each day, he came closer to the power that would grant him freedom¡ªfreedom from fear, from weakness, from dependence. At dusk, the AI beeped again.
"New enhanced Aura tempering technique developed. Now on par with Mana tempering."
Lucas scanned the AI''s enhancements. It was a revelation. The techniques for Mana and Aura tempering followed similar principles, but with critical differences. Mana flowed through spiritual nodes, ethereal and untouchable, while Aura coursed through physical nodes¡ªtangible, heavy, alive. The two forces existed in parallel, intertwined but never interacting. Most Magi could never dream of combining them. Why? Because Mana tempering was second nature to most Magi¡ªlike breathing air. From the moment they awakened, Mana was their lifeblood, flowing effortlessly through their spiritual pathways. Aura, on the other hand, was different. To cultivate it was like trying to breathe underwater. And without guidance, most who attempted both failed. They became so accustomed to channeling Mana that, when they tried to direct Aura, they sent it into the wrong nodes¡ªspiritual instead of physical¡ªand suffered devastating backlash. But Lucas was different. AI, he thought, I think I understand. Most Magi fail because they don''t have what I have. They don''t have you. They try to pass Mana through physical nodes, or Aura through spiritual nodes, and the result is chaos. Lucas''s mind raced. What if... what if I pass Mana and Aura simultaneously, but through their respective nodes? Spiritual for Mana, physical for Aura? Can they spiral together, like a helix? A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The AI beeped, processing.
"Analyzing hypothesis..."
Lucas urged his mare, Cookie, forward, eyes gleaming with excitement. This could work. I know it can. An hour passed as they neared the city walls. Finally, the AI beeped again.
"Hypothetical test completed. Result: Success. Warning: This method increases cultivation difficulty twofold. High risk of severe backlash. However, training time will be reduced significantly, and simultaneous use of Mana and Aura will be possible.
Lucas''s pulse quickened. His body might struggle to keep up, but this method... it was revolutionary. A technique no one had ever discovered, because no one had the guidance of an AI capable of such precision. He would be the first. As they reached the training grounds the next morning, Lucas felt a strange exhilaration. Despite his exhaustion, he was eager to test his new method. He knew the risks¡ªbacklash could be fatal. But the rewards were too great to ignore. Melius, eyeing him suspiciously, tossed him a dull practice sword. "You''re awfully eager today. What madness are you planning now, boy?" Lucas grinned. "Wouldn''t you like to know, Uncle Melius?" Melius grunted, annoyed but intrigued. "Just remember, kid, Aura isn''t something to play with. You mess this up, and no amount of Mana will save you." Lucas nodded, the weight of Melius''s warning sinking in. He couldn''t afford to fail. His life¡ªand his power¡ªdepended on it. As the training progressed, Lucas finally initiated his experiment. AI, begin the Helix Method. Spin Mana through the spiritual nodes, and Aura through the physical nodes¡ªtogether.
"Commencing process..."
Lucas closed his eyes, focusing every ounce of his willpower. Mana swirled within him like the gentle flow of a river, light and effortless. At the same time, Aura pulsed, deep and primal, like the heartbeat of the earth itself. The two forces began to intertwine, spiraling together in perfect harmony, yet never touching. For a moment, everything seemed to fall into place. But then, a sharp pain tore through Lucas''s body. His vision blurred, and his muscles seized up. It felt as if his veins were on fire, the two energies warring for dominance. Breathless, he nearly collapsed.
"Warning: Backlash detected. Immediate intervention recommended."
Not yet, Lucas thought through gritted teeth. I can handle this. Sweat dripped down his brow as he forced the energies back into alignment. Slowly, agonizingly, the pain began to fade. The Mana and Aura continued to flow, separate but equal, in perfect balance. After what felt like an eternity, the backlash subsided, and Lucas opened his eyes. He had done it. The Helix Method worked. He had succeeded where countless others had failed. Melius walked over, frowning. "You look like death warmed over. What the hell did you do?" Lucas, gasping for air, smiled weakly. "Just... testing a theory." Melius raised an eyebrow, but didn''t pry further. "You''re a damn fool and crazy, kid. But maybe, just maybe, this madness help you survive in this world." Lucas lay on the ground, his chest heaving. He was drained, but he could feel it¡ªthe power of Mana and Aura, intertwined and alive within him. He was the first, the only one to achieve such a feat. No other Magus could hope to replicate it. Not without the AI to guide them. AI, status check, he thought, still panting.
"Helix formation complete. Spiritual and physical nodes are stable. Current fusion rate: 62%. Backlash risk reduced by 18%."
Lucas smiled. His AI had been the key all along. Without it, he would have been just another failed experiment¡ªanother Magus destroyed by the clash of two incompatible forces. But the AI had guided him, mapped out every node, every pathway, ensuring the delicate balance between Mana and Aura. AI, continue monitoring the flow. We''re just getting started.
"Affirmative. Ongoing analysis initiated. Adjustments to Helix Method will continue based on new data."
As he lay in the dirt, watching the sunset over the hills, Lucas felt a deep sense of accomplishment. He had done what no one else could. The Helix Method¡ªhis creation¡ªwas a top-tier cultivation technique, unrivalled in the Magus world. But more than that, it was his. No one else could wield it, because no one else had the AI to guide them through the labyrinth of spiritual and physical nodes. He wasn''t just a Magus. He was something more¡ªsomething new. And as the first of his kind, he would carve his own path in this world. 0014 Dance of Blades After his breakthrough in cultivating both Mana and Aura, Lucas felt a new energy coursing through him. The next morning, as he, Melius, and Silas were preparing to leave the city, they noticed a group of robed figures watching them from afar. Silas nudged Melius. "Do you see them, Melius?" Melius scoffed, rubbing his beard. "I may have one hand, but I''ve got both eyes, you old fart. Told you already, there''s a dark current running through this city. But you refused to leave." Silas sighed, a hint of helplessness clouding his eyes. "I planned to, eventually. But seeing the talent in this boy¡­" He glanced at Lucas, who was busy petting his mare, Cookie, with a smile. The horse responded to his touch, almost as if understanding him. "I don''t want him to become just another backwater village mage," Silas continued, his tone soft. Melius chuckled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "The boy''s something, Silas. I''ll give you that." Both men observed Lucas in silence for a moment. Silas broke it with a smirk. "I wasn''t sure you''d show up to join us, Melius. I half expected you to run off to another city." Melius''s expression darkened, the weight of old memories pressing down on him. "If I were younger, I probably would''ve. But an old mercenary knight, living with lost honour, has no easy place to run." He sighed. "The revenge we sought... it ruined our lives, Silas." Silas nodded, his face a mix of melancholy and regret. But Melius, ever the stubborn one, let out a booming laugh. "Worth it though." Silas shot back with a smirk, "And you¡ªyou greedy bastard¡ªyou charged me for it! Made me hire you. I thought you were in it for the gold! But no, you sick fool, you were chasing some twisted revenge. Don''t even bother explaining, I don''t want to know." Melius cracked a grin. "Ale and women weren''t cheap, Silas. What can I say?" Both men burst into laughter, the tension easing as they rode out of the city. The forest they ventured into was remote, far from the prying eyes of the city''s dark undercurrents. Later, in the thick of the woods, Lucas began his Mana and Aura tempering session. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed in deep focus, as the energies within him flowed. The AI guided him carefully through the Helix Method, directing Mana through his spiritual nodes and Aura through his physical ones. Beads of sweat formed on Lucas''s brow, and soon enough, his body was drenched, impurities leaking from his pores. The stench was foul¡ªworse than a goblin''s armpit, the kind of smell that could drive away lesser men. But Lucas endured, pushing through the strain. Silas and Melius watched from a distance, their expressions shifting from curiosity to shock. "This kid¡­ he actually fucking did it," Melius muttered under his breath, disbelief washing over him. "Well, fuck me sideways. He was right." Melius, who had been holding back his usual curses around the boy, couldn''t help himself now. His words spilled out like a river. Silas, however, remained silent, deep in thought. How did this boy manage such a thing? Silas mused. If anyone saw this, they''d think he was some kind of demon. After what felt like hours, Lucas finally opened his eyes. His body was drenched in sweat, and the impurities clinging to his skin had turned into a thick, black goo. His breath came in heavy gasps, but there was a glimmer of triumph in his gaze. AI, show me my stats, Lucas thought. The AI beeped.
"Scanning the body¡­"
Beep.
"[Lucas (Age: 7). Strength: 0.4 | Agility: 0.45 | Vitality: 0.5 | Mana: 5 | Aura: 3 | State: Post-Awakening]"
Lucas blinked in surprise. Over the past two months, his Mana had grown steadily, though slowly. But in just one session of Aura tempering, his Aura had surged to an impressive 3. Aura''s easier to cultivate than Mana, Lucas realized, a hint of excitement stirring within him. After the grueling three-hour tempering session using the helix method, Lucas stood with a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Both Silas and Melius approached him, their faces showing a range of emotions. Silas, with a rare and genuine smile, finally broke his stunned silence. "So, you succeeded. Impressive." Lucas beamed with pride. "Yes, Grandpa! It worked just as I hoped. I just...." Silas, however, quickly interjected, his expression serious. "It''s better for a Magus to keep some secrets. The specifics of your method won''t help me. But remember, having a few mysteries up your sleeve is part of the journey." Silas then instructed Lucas to wash up in the nearby river. Once refreshed, Lucas resumed his rigorous sword training with Melius. Days rolled by, and for almost twelve days, the only notable events were the black-robed figures keeping their distance, trailing them from afar. They posed no immediate threat, so both Silas and Melius chose to ignore them. Lucas''s training continued at full throttle. Silas had advised him not to cast any spells until he reached a mana threshold of ten points, so Lucas focused solely on tempering his mana and aura, alongside intense swordsmanship drills. At the end of these days, Lucas''s stats were as follows:
[Lucas (Age: 7). Strength: 0.5 | Agility: 0.55 | Vitality: 0.55 | Mana: 7 | Aura: 10 | State: Post-Awakening]
Lucas noted that his mana was progressing slowly compared to his aura, which surged at an impressive rate. During this period, he mastered the use of aura for coating his sword and briefly enhancing his physical strength. After one of their sword training sessions, Melius announced, "It seems you''re ready for the next step. We can start sparring now. Let''s see if you can at least hold your ground against me. Tomorrow, we''ll dance with swords." The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The clearing was bathed in the early morning light, the air thick with tension. Melius stood at one end, gripping his greatsword, Honeyblood, effortlessly in his single hand. Despite his age and missing limb, he radiated a killing intent that could make even seasoned warriors freeze. His one good arm held the massive blade aloft, its dark edge gleaming with the promise of death. Melius, ever in control, lowered his power from the terrifying strength of a Blade of the Ember, a second-grade Aura Knight, to the level of a Dawnblade Disciple, the first rank of Aura mastery. Even at this reduced strength, his aura was overwhelming. Lucas, across from him, clutched his dull iron sword, a gift Melius had mockingly called "a stick for swatting flies." It was barely enveloped in a faint layer of Aura, flickering like a candle in the wind¡ªunstable and weak. His AI silently worked in the background, guiding his movements, plotting counters and evasion paths, but there was one undeniable fact: Lucas''s body wasn''t fast enough to keep up with Melius''s overwhelming speed and precision. Standing in the background, Silas watched the sparring with tense eyes. His knuckles were white as they gripped his staff, worry written on his face. He trusted Melius, knew the grizzled knight wouldn''t truly harm Lucas, but seeing his grandson face such killing intent¡ªeven for training¡ªwas a test of his nerves. He had to trust Melius would hold back enough, despite the intensity of the fight. Melius''s voice cut through the silence, rough but calm. "Boy, if you lose focus for even a second and miss enveloping that sword in Aura, it''ll snap in half, and I''ll slice you clean through. You understand?" Lucas swallowed hard, nodding. His heart raced in his chest, but his mind remained sharp. He could feel the AI calculating¡ªtiming each of Melius''s steps, gauging every twitch in the veteran knight''s muscles. But knowing the next move and being able to react were two very different things. Without warning, Melius lunged forward, faster than Lucas had anticipated. His greatsword, Honeyblood, cut through the air with a savage grace, aimed directly at Lucas''s midsection. The killing intent was real, but Melius had enough control to stop himself from actually harming the boy¡ªthough only barely. AI, help me intercept!
"Attack trajectory calculated. Suggest 15-degree blade angle. Prepare for impact."
Lucas raised his sword just in time, angling it to deflect the blow. The sheer force behind Melius''s swing sent a jolt through Lucas''s arms, his legs nearly buckling under the pressure. He managed to divert the strike just enough so that Honeyblood scraped past his side, missing by mere inches. "Good!" Melius barked. "But you won''t last long if you just keep parrying!" Lucas gritted his teeth. His Aura was flickering dangerously, barely coating his blade. He needed more control. Melius swung again, this time overhead, with all the fury of a seasoned warrior. Lucas sidestepped, barely dodging the blow, the ground where he stood moments before now carved with a deep scar. I need to turn his strength against him.
"Advise lateral deflection. Angle the strike to minimize impact. Strike from below."
Lucas adjusted, angling his sword downward to catch the next swing. This time, he didn''t block the blow directly. Instead, he diverted the path of the greatsword, guiding it past his side with a calculated flick of his wrist. The maneuver worked, but only just. The force of the swing still sent Lucas stumbling back. Melius grinned. "Clever. But I''m not even at half my strength yet." With a single motion, Melius switched his stance, drawing upon the strength of an Aura Knight. His Aura surged, rippling like a violent storm around him. Even at the reduced strength of a Dawnblade Disciple, his Aura was crushing. Lucas''s eyes widened as Melius closed the distance, faster than before. Honeyblood came down in a crushing arc, and this time Lucas knew there was no chance of blocking it outright. AI, calculate evasive path!
"Roll left. Immediate counter suggested."
Lucas rolled to his left, narrowly avoiding the strike as Honeyblood crashed into the ground, sending dirt and debris flying into the air. Without hesitating, Lucas lashed out with his own sword, aiming for Melius''s exposed side. But Melius was already a step ahead, pivoting with impossible speed and bringing his sword up to intercept. "Too slow!" Melius barked, his sword deflecting Lucas''s strike with a casual flick. The impact of the parry sent Lucas reeling backward. Lucas felt the weight of exhaustion creeping in. His Aura was barely holding, flickering on the edge of collapse. Each swing of Melius''s sword was a test of survival, and Lucas knew he was running out of options. I can''t keep up with him in a straight fight. I need to be unpredictable.
"Suggest unorthodox feints. Use terrain to disrupt opponent''s momentum."
Lucas''s mind raced as the AI fed him information. With Melius charging forward again, he knew he had to gamble. Instead of directly countering the next attack, Lucas lunged low, sliding beneath Melius''s next swing and kicking up dirt in the process. Melius cursed as his vision momentarily blurred, and Lucas, using that split second, lashed out with a thrust aimed at Melius''s knee. It wasn''t a strike designed to do damage¡ªit was designed to throw the larger man off balance. The dull iron blade, just barely coated in Aura, connected with Melius''s leg. Melius grunted, the surprise evident in his eyes as he stumbled, but he recovered quickly, swinging Honeyblood in a wide arc to force Lucas back. "You little snake," Melius growled, though there was admiration in his tone. "You fight dirty. I like it." Lucas grinned through the sweat and fatigue. His AI was feeding him every possible move Melius could make next, but his body was nearing its limit. Even with the AI''s perfect guidance, his speed and strength couldn''t match Melius''s overwhelming power. Melius''s next strike came with enough force to split a boulder. Lucas angled his sword to deflect it, but Melius''s sheer strength sent a shockwave through the blade. The Aura coating flickered, and Lucas could feel the iron sword on the verge of snapping. If I miss the Aura for even a second, this sword is gone.
"Warning: Aura instability detected. Immediate reinforcement required."
Lucas channelled what little Aura he had left, barely enveloping his sword in time to withstand the next attack. The iron groaned under the strain, but it held. He sidestepped Melius''s follow-up swing, the AI guiding him step by step. But Melius was relentless. He moved with the precision of a predator, each strike calculated to push Lucas to his breaking point. Even as Lucas parried, dodged, and diverted the blows, he knew it was only a matter of time before Melius''s strength would overwhelm him. And then, as if sensing the end, Melius launched a final, crushing blow¡ªa downward strike with enough power to cleave Lucas in two. The AI screamed warnings in his mind, but Lucas didn''t need them. He acted on instinct, ducking low and driving his sword upward in a desperate attempt to divert the force. His sword connected with Honeyblood, the clash echoing through the clearing. The dull iron blade, barely holding onto its Aura, shuddered¡ªbut miraculously, it held. Lucas twisted his body, diverting the massive sword just enough so that Melius''s strike missed him by a hair''s breadth. Breathing hard, Lucas staggered backward, his limbs trembling from exhaustion. Melius stood over him, his one good arm lowering Honeyblood to his side, the killing intent fading from his eyes. "You didn''t last long," Melius said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But you didn''t die either. And for that, boy, you''ve earned my respect." Lucas dropped to one knee, gasping for breath, but a small grin broke through his fatigue. He hadn''t won, but he had survived¡ªand in the eyes of a hardened Aura Knight like Melius, that was victory enough. 0015 Dusk of Defiance - I In the days that followed, Lucas''s training with Melius intensified. Every sparring session pushed him to the edge, his body aching from the relentless barrage of attacks. Though he had begun to anticipate Melius''s brutal and efficient fighting style, countering those strikes was another matter entirely. Understanding an opponent''s movements and executing a proper response in battle required a balance of speed, strength, and split-second timing¡ªa balance Lucas was still struggling to find. Meanwhile, Lucas''s growing eagerness to practice mana spells had become a source of constant pestering for Silas. One afternoon, as Lucas pressed him yet again to try his hand at the basic level-zero spells, Silas responded with his usual calm patience. "Listen, Lucas," he said, his voice firm but not unkind, "when an apprentice conjures mana for the first time, it requires far more than usual. You still don''t have enough mana to safely cast even the simplest spell." Lucas''s AI chimed in to confirm Silas''s assessment.
"Mana levels currently insufficient. Current total: 8 mana points. Required: 10 mana points for stable spellcasting."
Sitting cross-legged on the training grounds, Lucas caught his breath after another exhausting session of tempering. His mind whirred, calculating how long it would take him to reach the necessary mana threshold. Just a few more days, he thought, feeling a surge of determination. His Aura, however, was progressing much faster, already sitting at 16 points¡ªdouble the growth of his mana. Melius, watching from the sidelines, had been quietly impressed with Lucas''s rapid progress. One evening, while Lucas practiced his sword forms in the dying light, Melius turned to Silas with a thoughtful look. "Kid''s a prodigy," Melius muttered, unable to hide his admiration. "Doesn''t complain, learns quick." Silas''s lips curled into a knowing smile. During one of their more grueling sparring sessions, Lucas, panting and drenched in sweat, managed to block another powerful strike from Melius''s greatsword, Honeyblood. He couldn''t resist asking between heavy breaths, "Compared to Grandpa¡­ how strong are you, Melius?" Melius swung his greatsword with ease, the blade crackling with his flaring Aura. The force of his strikes nearly knocked Lucas off his feet. "Stop talking, kid, and focus on the fight! Unless you want me to carve you up like a little pig." There was a harsh edge to his words, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. Still, after a few more vicious exchanges, Melius grunted and finally answered, his voice strained from effort. "Good question, though. Your grandpa might be a novice apprentice Magus, but it''d take three Aura Knights like me to take him down in a fair fight." Lucas''s eyes widened in shock, barely dodging the next swing. "Three of you?" Melius barked a laugh, loud and booming, as he pressed his attack. "Aye! Mages are crafty bastards. They''ve got tricks that can turn the tide of a fight before you even blink. But in a straight brawl, we Aura Knights stand a chance¡ªuntil they start casting. Then we''ve got our limits." His laughter filled the air, and Lucas, gritting his teeth, barely managed to block the next crushing blow. He parried, sweat pouring down his face, and with a teasing grin, he shouted over the clash of blades, "I''m glad to know Grandpa could whoop Uncle Melius''s ass!" The words barely left his mouth before Melius''s Aura flared. With a roar, he swung his sword in a wide arc, sending Lucas flying backward. Lucas crashed into a nearby tree, the impact rattling his bones and knocking the wind out of him. Melius approached, grinning down at him. "You were saying, kid?" His tone was mocking but playful, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. Lucas groaned, struggling to push himself up, wincing at the soreness in his limbs. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, but he couldn''t help but grin back. "I, uh¡­ I think I''ll save the trash talk for after I win next time." Melius chuckled. "Smart choice. Take a break. After you rest, we''ll go again." The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. After a short but much-needed rest, Lucas stood once more. Melius wasted no time, and this round was even harsher. The Aura Knight pushed Lucas to his breaking point, punishing him for his earlier taunt with a relentless assault. Every swing of Honeyblood felt like it carried the weight of an avalanche, and Lucas struggled to keep up. By the end of the day, Lucas was thoroughly beaten, bruised, and exhausted, but a smile still tugged at his lips. He had taken a beating, but he had also learned¡ªpainfully¡ªthat strength wasn''t just about power. It was about patience, endurance, and the will to improve, no matter how harsh the lessons. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the clearing, the trio mounted their horses and began their ride back to the city. The cool evening breeze soothed Lucas''s aching muscles as he rode, battered but not broken. Each day, he grew stronger, and each day, the power he sought felt just a little bit closer. As dusk crept over the mountain path, painting the world in shades of grey, Lucas, Melius, and Silas travelled in silence. The rigorous training had worn Lucas down; he was barely awake, lulled by the rhythmic clop of his mare, Cookie. The mare''s steady gait was comforting, her hooves clicking softly on the rocky trail as she followed closely behind Silas''s horse, Biscuit. Then, the sudden, urgent beep of Lucas''s AI shattered the quiet.
"Movement detected. Multiple life-form signatures approaching. Classification: human. Host, please stay alert."
Lucas jolted upright, his body tensing. Melius and Silas brought their horses to an abrupt halt, eyes scanning the dim path ahead. The scent of damp earth and pine filled the cool evening air, but now a new presence stirred¡ªdanger. "Rats in the shadows," Melius muttered darkly, his voice a low rumble. Figures emerged from the treeline, moving with the deliberate confidence of men who knew how to kill. Twenty mercenaries stepped into the fading light, forming a blockade. The leader, a hulking figure in his forties, stepped forward. His bald head gleamed under the torchlight, and he wore fine leather armor¡ªpristine, battle-worn but well-maintained, marking him as more than just a common thug. "Nutface," Melius sneered, a twisted grin on his lips. "I figured you''d be crawling out of some hole." The man''s scowl deepened. "You old fucking fool, how many times i have told you my name¡ª" He cut himself off, teeth grinding. "It doesn''t matter. Tonight, I get to shut your mouth for good, and I''m getting paid to do it." Beside him stood Pug Nose, his right-hand man. His sneer matched his leader''s, his face disfigured by a long, jagged scar. He wore good leather armor, not as fine as the bald man''s, but enough to make him dangerous. His eyes flickered toward Lucas, full of ill intent. Behind them, the rest of the mercenaries fidgeted, eager to close in. The Aura Swordsmen in the front wore decent armor, clearly meant for combat. Some carried bows, poised to deal with any mage from a distance, while the others gripped swords, their blades faintly gleaming in the dim light. The lesser soldiers, further back, had armor that was sturdy but not as refined. Their movements were impatient, their gazes predatory. Silas remained calm, his expression unreadable. "Who paid for our heads?" Nutface sneered. "You can ask him in the afterlife." Lucas''s breath hitched as his AI buzzed in his mind, cold and calculated. "Hostile count: 31. Eight Aura Swordsmen ahead, three behind. Two mid-level second-grade ''Blade of the Ember'' swordsmen. The others are first-level ''Dawnblade Disciples''." Lucas''s heart pounded, his chest tight. "What''s our chance of winning?" he whispered under his breath, hoping for reassurance.
"Winning rate: 70 percent. Warning: 80 percent probability of casualty involving your life."
His stomach churned. Eighty percent chance of dying. He felt his body betray him, his hands trembling violently. His breath became shallow, each gulp of air tasting like fear. Powerless¡ªthat''s what he was. He cursed himself silently. He had trained, but this was real. Too real. "Focus on the apprentice and the boy," Nutface barked to his men. "Leave the shit spewing loudmouth to me." Lucas''s vision blurred, the weight of the moment crushing him. His legs felt weak, and his hands wouldn''t stop shaking. The dread gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Steady yourself," Melius growled, his voice like a lifeline cutting through the fog of fear. "It''s not about brute force. Fight smart." Melius drew his greatsword, the air around him growing heavy with intent. The steel caught the dying light, a cold gleam dancing along the blade''s edge. Silas, staff in hand, stood ready, his gaze calm but fierce. He gave Lucas a small nod, a silent message: we''ve got you. Lucas swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath, his heart racing. I can''t die here. Not like this. The mercenaries tightened their circle. He could feel their hunger for blood, the way they moved, poised to strike. His AI''s voice buzzed in his head again, calculating, analyzing every possible outcome, but all Lucas could hear was the pounding in his chest. You''re not ready for this. And yet, something shifted inside him. Amidst the overwhelming fear, a flicker of resolve sparked to life. This is it. You''ve trained for this. Trust yourself. He had trained relentlessly under Melius and Silas. And he had his AI. Fear be damned, Lucas thought. I''ll fight. 0016 Dusk of Defiance - II The mercenaries closed in like a pack of wolves, their eyes gleaming with confidence. Lucas, Melius, and Silas braced themselves, but it was clear the enemy had planned every move. Nutface, a hulking aura swordsman, locked eyes with Melius and lunged. His sheer size and strength separated Melius from Lucas and Silas, while the remaining seven swordsmen encircled them. Among the attackers was Pug Nose, a second-grade Blade of the Ember, flanked by six Dawnblade Disciples and twenty-five normal warriors. Nutface''s red aura crackled, enveloping his sword in an ominous glow. He swung it down with the weight of a hammer, a blur of deadly steel aimed straight for Melius. "Die, you old fool!" he bellowed, his voice booming across the battlefield. Melius had seen this kind of rage before¡ªraw, unfocused power. His body moved on instinct. Raising his greatsword, Honeyblood, he met the strike head-on. The force of the impact shook the ground beneath them, sending tremors up Melius''s arms as sparks flew from the collision. His feet sank into the dirt, but he held firm. A grin tugged at Melius''s lips despite the strain. "I won''t be killed by some lowlife mercenary. who crawled out from some back alley whore''s cunt" he said, his voice steady, though he could feel the toll the years had taken on him. Nutface''s eyes gleamed with fury. With another roar, he swung horizontally, aiming for Melius''s side where his missing arm left him vulnerable. "What did, you say? I''ll take your fucking tongue as my trophy!" Melius saw the attack coming a heartbeat before it struck. He ducked and twisted his body, feeling the rush of air as the sword whistled past him. His boots slid across the muddy ground, but he kept his balance, barely. Still fast enough, he thought, but the strain was there. His breathing was heavier than it should''ve been. Nutface wasn''t giving him any room to breathe. He advanced again, his aura flaring violently. "You''re weaker than my Dawnblade Disciples!" he sneered, his blade crashing down toward Melius once more. Melius raised Honeyblood just in time, parrying the blow. The impact sent a painful jolt through his bones, and his grip faltered for a moment. He gritted his teeth, pushing back against Nutface''s brute strength. His mind raced. I''m not as strong as I used to be. The aura spark I gave Lucas... it''s draining me more than I thought. The years weighed on him like never before. In his prime, Melius would''ve made short work of someone like Nutface¡ªhe''d fought aura swordsmen stronger and more skilled. But now, he felt the aches in his bones, the heaviness in his lungs. He wasn''t just fighting Nutface; he was fighting the inevitability of age. I''m not ready to die today, he thought, his resolve hardening. Nutface, sensing Melius''s struggle, laughed¡ªa cruel, grating sound. "You''re nothing but an old man clinging to a past that''s long dead." Melius''s eyes narrowed. Nutface had no idea what real battles were like, no understanding of the wars Melius had survived. The younger man fought like a wild animal, relying on brute strength and unrefined rage. Melius, on the other hand, had spent decades mastering his craft. Each swing of Honeyblood was calculated, precise. Nutface lunged again, bringing his sword down with a wild roar. This time, Melius didn''t block. Instead, he shifted his weight and sidestepped, allowing the blade to smash into the ground where he had stood a moment ago. In one fluid motion, Melius brought his greatsword up, slicing across Nutface''s exposed side. The blade cut through armor and flesh, leaving a deep gash. Nutface staggered back, his hand flying to his side as blood began to seep through his armor. His face twisted in pain and disbelief. "You''re not invincible," Melius said, his voice low and steady, though his chest heaved with effort. "You''re just too stupid to know it." Furious, Nutface roared and charged, but his movements were more erratic now, less controlled. He swung wildly, desperation fueling his strikes. Melius parried each one, the clang of their swords echoing like a drumbeat. But with every parry, Melius felt the weight of his body growing heavier. His limbs screamed in protest, his breaths shallow and quick. Nutface, in his rage, slammed a kick into Melius''s chest. The force sent Melius flying, his body crashing into a tree with a sickening crack. Pain flared through his ribs, and for a moment, his vision went black. The tree snapped under the impact, falling in two. For a long second, Melius lay on the ground, gasping for air. Blood filled his mouth, and he spat it out, his vision still blurry. He could hear Nutface''s footsteps approaching, the ground trembling beneath the brute''s weight. "Pathetic," Nutface sneered, standing over him. "I thought you''d put up more of a fight. As a fellow mercenary, I once respected you." Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Melius coughed, every movement sending sharp pain through his side. He was bruised, battered, and exhausted. Is this how it ends? the thought flickered in his mind. But no¡ªhe wasn''t finished yet. He wasn''t ready to let go. Through the haze of pain, his instincts flared. His aura flickered weakly around him, just enough to protect him from the worst of the blow. "Get up, old man," Nutface mocked, lifting his sword for the killing strike. "I''ll make sure you never forget my name." Melius, his body aching, pushed himself to his knees. His hand gripped Honeyblood so tightly his knuckles were white. His heart pounded in his chest, the beat heavy in his ears. I''ve survived worse than you, he thought. I''ve bled on battlefields far more dangerous than this. With a surge of will, Melius rose to his feet, the pain still there, but his resolve sharper. His eyes locked with Nutface''s. "You talk too much and I like only myself talking," Melius rasped, his voice rough but defiant. While Melius and Nutface engaged in a brutal, close-quarters battle, Silas and Lucas faced a more tactical and calculated fight. Surrounded by the seven Aura Swordsmen and nearly thirty mercenaries, they stood in the center of a wide circle of enemies, ready for a siege. The pug-faced leader sneered as he watched one of his youngest Dawnblade Disciples inch closer to Silas. "Get your ass back here!" he snarled. "You want to meet your father in the afterlife?" Startled, the young swordsman backed off quickly, eyes wide with fear. "Fuckin'' Amateurs" Pug Face muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking toward the rest of his men. "Ready the bows! Keep your distance! Let''s not get too close to that old man just yet." At his command, the mercenaries nocked their arrows¡ªmany of them imbued with aura¡ªand fired in unison. A hail of deadly projectiles streaked through the air toward Silas and Lucas. Silas was prepared. With swift movements, he chanted under his breath, and the ground beneath them trembled. "Lucas, bring your mare closer!" he called out as the earth rose and formed a protective dome over them. The arrows thudded against the structure, but it held¡ªfor now. Inside the dome, the air was dark and thick with tension. Silas, sweat beading on his forehead, cast a low-level ignite spell, a flicker of flame lighting their small enclosure. "This won''t hold for long, Lucas," Silas said, his voice both firm and kind. "Stay close to me. Your grandpa isn''t weak, but we''ll need to be ready." Lucas, fear clawing at his gut, felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Yet, despite the fear, a resolve burned within him¡ªa resolve he had made the moment the mercenaries arrived. He gripped his sword tighter. Outside the dome, the pug-faced man was growing impatient. "Keep firing!" he barked. "Break that dome down!" One of the Aura Swordsmen shouted, "It''s cracking! The mage must be out of mana!" The pug-faced man scowled, his face twisted in irritation. "Idiot! Did your mother got fucked by a donkey? Don''t rush in! He''s got tricks up his sleeve." But the lure of gold and glory was too much for some of the normal mercenaries. A few reckless warriors charged forward, greed overcoming caution. A aura swordsman yelled, "Why are you letting them attack like this boss?" Pug face snorted "This are replaceable cannon fodder" He yelled from behind "Anyone who kills the mage gets ten times their share!" his voice like a whip. "And don''t you dare touch the kid! He''s mine." Fuelled by greed, the mercenaries attacked fiercely, but they were met with more than they bargained for. As they neared the dome, the ground beneath them began to soften. They looked down in horror as the earth turned to liquid¡ªa mud pool spell Silas had prepared in advance. Before they could react, jagged stone spears shot up from the ground, impaling eight men in an instant. Their bodies crumpled, blood splattering across the field as the remaining mercenaries hesitated, their greed now replaced with fear. "Retreat!" someone yelled from the back of the group, panic spreading like wildfire. But before they could flee, Pug Face''s sword flashed in the dim light, his aura-infused blade slicing cleanly through one of his retreating men. The body fell in two, lifeless on the ground. Pug Face''s eyes burned with fury. "Anyone who fucking runs, I''ll gut you myself!" he roared, his voice thick with menace. "On my Becca''s tits, I''ll kill your entire family if you try to run." The threat worked¡ªfor now. Another volley of men rushed forward, only to be met by Silas''s level-one water whip spell. The whip lashed out, cutting through the attackers, sending several of them to the ground, soaked and broken. But Silas was nearing his limit. His breathing had grown ragged, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. He swayed in his saddle before collapsing off his horse. "Grandpa!" Lucas cried out in terror, rushing to his side. Before he could reach Silas, a shadow loomed over him. Pug Face, his sword glowing with aura, stood over Lucas, grinning lustfully. "Time to play, little boy," Silas, dazed but still conscious, saw the danger. His heart pounded as he watched his grandson face the Blade of the Ember. Rage flooded his veins, cutting through the pain. From his blind spot, Silas noticed three Dawnblade Swordsmen closing in. There was no time. He had to act. With shaking hands, Silas pulled out a scroll¡ªa powerful one he had been saving for a desperate moment like this. His voice crackled with fury. "You insolent vermin! Now you will face my wrath!" Silas poured his remaining mana into the scroll. A blinding flash of light erupted from it, followed by a deafening crack. A chain of lightning surged through the air, striking the three advancing swordsmen. Their bodies convulsed violently as the electricity coursed through them, their auras useless against the raw power of the spell. Within moments, their charred corpses fell to the ground, lifeless. The remaining Dawnblade Swordsmen froze, terror in their eyes. One of them, an older warrior, sneered, "The mage has used everything he''s got. He''s finished." The younger one, trembling, shook his head. "What do you take me for? A fucking fool? That old man''s more cunning than a fox. I''m not moving till Pug joins us." The third swordsman, eyes narrowed, glanced at Lucas, who was still fending off Pug Face. "He''s taking his sweet time with the boy," he muttered, "but we''ll keep this old man surrounded." On one side, Melius was barely holding his ground, while Silas was surrounded by aura swordsmen, his mana almost depleted. Meanwhile, Lucas found himself in the worst position, facing the formidable Pug Face, an entry-grade Blade of the Ember. 0017 Dusk of Defiance - III Lucas sprinted through the dark trees, his chest tight with fear as the pug-faced swordsman pursued him relentlessly. "Come here, boy!" the man jeered, his voice dripping with lust and amusement. "Let me give you a taste of my real meat!" Disgust and terror surged through Lucas. His small hands trembled as he gripped his sword tightly, desperately parrying the blows. Each clash reverberated through his arms, the weight of the blade feeling heavier with every strike. His heart raced in his chest, his breaths ragged as he ducked under the swordsman''s next swing. "I''d rather die you fuckin paedophile!" Lucas yelled, his voice cracking with anger and fear. The pug-faced swordsman stopped for a moment, brow furrowing in mock confusion. "Pae... paedophile? What are you babbling about, boy?" Then his expression shifted, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "Or is this some kind of secret love language, hmm?" Lucas''s stomach churned with revulsion as the man''s laughter echoed through the clearing. Desperately, he reached out to his AI. "Track his movements. Plan an escape strategy!" The AI responded with a calm, mechanical voice.
"Analyzing opponent''s aura flow and muscle movement to predict attacks."
But Lucas had little time to think. The pug-faced swordsman swung his blade in a wide, lazy arc¡ªmore of a taunt than an actual attack. Lucas''s instincts kicked in as his faint aura flared to life, guiding his body as he deftly dodged the blow. The movement was almost graceful, a sharp contrast to the terror gripping his heart. The swordsman''s eyes widened in surprise, followed quickly by a gleam of sinister excitement. "Oh, so you know how to use aura at your age?" His grin widened, filled with cruel delight. "Now this is going to be fun." Suddenly, a crackling burst of blue light erupted from behind them. The sky lit up, and the ground trembled as thunder rumbled in the distance. Lucas risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the pug-faced man''s Aura Swordsmen¡ªthree of them¡ªlying charred on the ground, smoke rising from their bodies. The pug-faced man''s expression twisted in anger. "Looks like the old man''s causing more trouble than we bargained for." His red aura flared around him, thick and oppressive. "Guess I''ll finish you off quickly." Lucas''s AI beeped in warning.
"Imminent danger detected. Parrying and evading will fail. Blocking recommended."
Lucas braced himself, summoning every bit of aura he could muster into his dull iron sword. As the swordsman charged, their blades met with a deafening clang, sparks flying from the impact. The force was immense, sending a jarring shockwave up Lucas''s arms. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold on¡ªbut the strength of the blow was too much. With a sickening crack, Lucas''s sword shattered in his hands, and the impact sent him flying backward. He hit the ground hard, pain exploding in his ribs as he struggled to breathe. Blood filled his mouth, and his vision blurred. A deep sense of helplessness welled up inside him, a fear more profound than death itself. He wasn''t afraid to die, but the thought of what this man would do to him before that terrified him to his core. The pug-faced man approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate, each one filled with malice. "Sorry, kid. Didn''t mean to hit you that hard. But I''ve got business to take care of." He grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with twisted arousal. Don''t worry kid "I''ll fix you up real nice... then I will break you bit by bit." Lucas''s world spun, his vision darkening. He lay still, feigning unconsciousness as the man loomed over him. As the swordsman bent down to grab him, Lucas''s instincts flared to life. His eyes snapped open, and with a flash of desperate energy, he swung his knife upward. The AI guided his movements with pinpoint precision. The blade cut deep into the man''s cock, slicing through the leather of his armor and totally cutting off the cock. Blood sprayed from the cock, and the pug-faced man howled in agony, stumbling back with a look of disbelief and rage. "You little shit... You have taken most precious thing in the world!" He clutched at the place where previously his cock was, his face twisted in pain. His aura flickered and wavered, the cocky bravado gone, replaced by seething fury. Lucas, still gasping for breath, felt a momentary surge of triumph. He was ready to die, he just avoided fate worse then death. His body ached, every muscle screaming in protest. His vision blurred, but through the haze, he heard the sound of hooves¡ªloud and steady, approaching fast. From the direction of Silas''s last stand, a group of black-robed men rode in on powerful horses, their presence commanding. They charged into the battle with ruthless precision, cutting down the remaining exhausted Aura Swordsmen and mercenaries in swift, decisive movements. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Lucas forced himself to stand, drawing on the last remnants of his aura. He turned and staggered toward Silas, his legs trembling beneath him. Behind him, the pug-faced man''s roar echoed through the clearing. "Not so fast!" ''You did a grave mistake boy, don''t think you are getting easy death'' The man''s aura surged to life again, blood dripping from his wound. He had made the grave mistake of underestimating Lucas, and now, with a mixture of fury and desperation, he ignited his full power. But just as he was about to close in, a dark, muscular horse galloped into view¡ªCookie, Lucas''s mare. The horse seemed to sense his desperation, its sleek form darting toward him with grace and speed. Lucas grabbed the reins as Cookie neared, pulling himself onto her back with the last of his strength. "Run," he whispered hoarsely, his grip weak but determined. Cookie bolted, her hooves pounding against the earth as they sped away. The pug-faced man, faltering and clutching his wounded leg, cursed as he watched them escape. He had lost, his pride shattered. With a final growl of frustration, he turned back toward the battlefield, determined to regroup with his boss and flee the scene. Lucas, barely conscious, clung to Cookie as they reached Silas. Relief washed over Lucas, even as the pain coursed through his own body. Silas, weak but alert, forced himself up and hurried to Lucas. "You''re hurt," he rasped, his voice filled with concern. "Don''t worry you will be fine. You did well." Lucas nodded faintly, his mind swirling with exhaustion. He had survived the encounter, but the weight of the battle lingered heavily on his shoulders. On the far side of the battlefield, Melius and Nutface''s fight had reached its final stage. Nutface, though bleeding from multiple gashes, still swung his sword with brutal force, each blow shaking the ground. He gripped his greatsword with both hands, his voice raw from yelling. "Say my real name, you shit-spewing fool!" he roared, his bloodshot eyes locked on Melius. He swung his blade with vicious intent, but Melius parried the strike with his own sword, gripping it tightly with just one remaining hand. Sweat dripped down Melius''s face, the exhaustion in his body painfully evident. Nutface bared his teeth, his aura flaring as he swung again. "Say it, you bastard!" Melius, visibly frustrated, rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don''t remember it!" With a wicked grin, he added, "Could you remind me again... Nutface?" Nutface''s roar echoed through the trees. "Don''t call me that! It''s Thorsycal, you asshole!" Feigning confusion, Melius tilted his head. "What? Did you say... Testicle?" The tension that had weighed so heavily on Melius suddenly lifted. His face cracked into a wide grin, then he began laughing, his body trembling from the effort. "What a shit name! No wonder I didn''t remember it. Nutface suits you far better!" Thorsycal''s rage boiled over, red aura erupting around him as he screamed in fury. "DON''T CALL ME THAT!" With a final burst of strength, he channelled his remaining aura into one last, savage strike, his sword cutting through the air with blistering speed. Melius had been waiting for this moment. His eyes narrowed as the blade approached. With a swift, calculated movement, he threw his greatsword into the air and dodged just as Nutface''s strike whistled past him, missing by mere inches. In one fluid motion, Melius leapt into the air, catching his sword as it descended. As he brought the blade down, Nutface managed to raise his right arm to defend¡ªbut he was a fraction too slow. Melius''s sword sliced cleanly through Nutface''s wrist, severing his hand. The scream that followed was bloodcurdling. Nutface stumbled back, clutching the bleeding stump where his hand had been moments ago. Blood sprayed from the wound, and he fell to his knees. With the last of his strength, he used his aura to stop the blood loss, gasping for breath. Melius, unsteady on his feet, landed less gracefully than he had hoped, using his greatsword for support. He swept the finger on his Honyblood sword where Nutface blood was. Then he licked and said "Still taste loke honey" Then with his exhaustion, he gave Nutface a tired grin. "Well, Nutface, looks like we''re half-brothers now. Missing a hand and all." Nutface''s face twisted in pain and fury, his whole body trembling. His aura flickered weakly around him, barely holding on. Neither of them was in fighting shape. Nutface''s gaze shifted past him, and a slow smile crept onto his face. Melius followed his line of sight and saw Pug Face¡ªNutface''s right-hand man¡ªstumbling awkwardly toward them, his body battered and his movements sluggish. Blood seeped through his clothes from his own injuries. Pug Face''s voice was filled with panic as he shouted, "Boss! We''ve been attacked! Unknown fighters wiped out our whole unit¡ªwe lost all the men! We need to go, now!" Nutface blinked, disbelief washing over him. "What...?" His voice was weak, confused. "How could we lose... the best mercenaries from Almera?" Pug Face finally reached them, breathless and in pain. "We were ambushed. They''re coming. We need to leave." His voice cracked with the weight of urgency and fear. Nutface, eyes blazing, looked down at his severed hand, blood still oozing despite his best efforts to stem it. "I can''t leave!" he bellowed. "I lost my sword hand! I need to kill this man!" Pug Face, clutching his own cock wound, spat out, "We all lost something today. You''ve lost your hand, I''ve lost my precious... but we''ll get our revenge later, boss. We need to go. Now." Horses'' hooves thundered in the distance. The sound was growing louder. For the first time, Nutface faltered. His exhaustion was catching up to him. Despite his fury, the fire in his eyes dimmed as the realization set in¡ªhe wasn''t going to win this today. He cursed under his breath, his anger still simmering. Pug Face grabbed Nutface by the arm, dragging him toward the horses. "Let''s go before it''s too late!" Reluctantly, Nutface allowed himself to be pulled away, cursing Melius every step of the way. He swore vengeance, his voice echoing in the fading light. "I''ll kill you for this, Melius! I''ll tear you apart, you bastard!" Melius, watching the two retreat into the shadows of the forest, let out a deep sigh. His body was screaming for rest, and his head was spinning from the battle. But he had survived. Barely. Melius leaned heavily on his sword, blood trickling from his wounds. He stared up at the darkening sky and muttered to himself, "Another day survived." He let out a bitter chuckle, wincing at the pain in his ribs. Forcing himself to stand, he turned his attention toward where Silas and Lucas had been fighting. His heart clenched with worry, hoping that they were still alive and well. With slow, dragging steps, Melius began to make his way toward them, his body screaming in protest with every step. 0018 Heart of Thorns - I With staggering steps, Melius was slowly approaching Silas and Lucas. In the distance, he spotted horsemen galloping toward him. As the riders drew closer, their figures became clearer. The man leading the group shouted with a commanding voice, "Halt!" All the horsemen stopped in perfect unison. The leader dismounted and, with a serious look, asked, "Melius, are you alright?" Melius, visibly exhausted and seething with frustration, shot back, "Yes, but not thanks to you mage dogs!" The leader''s face darkened as he retorted, "We just saved your sorry asses, and we lost men in the process. Is this how you thank us, you ungrateful bastard?" Melius'' anger flared as he spat, "You''ve been tailing us like hounds for days, and then, out of nowhere, these mercenaries ambush us? If you ask me, this looks damn suspicious!" The leader''s raspy voice turned cold. "I''m not here to argue with a one-handed, washed-up swordsman. We''re here under orders from Lady Marona herself." Turning to one of the black-robed men behind him, he barked, "Jacob, give him a spare horse." Melius, barely standing and on the verge of collapse, clenched his teeth in silent fury but said nothing as he was handed the reins. His rage simmered just beneath the surface, but his exhaustion won the battle, and he simply mounted the horse, his mind still spinning with bitter thoughts. Soon, Melius and the horsemen reached their destination. Lucas, with wounds scattered across his body, sat beside Silas, who appeared pale and worn, resting on a rock near the fallen mercenaries. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the remnants of battle. The black-robed leader approached Silas, his voice low with regret. "Sir, please accept my deepest apologies for failing to warn you about the ambush. I must admit, we were caught off guard." Silas, lifting his frail, bony hand, stopped him mid-apology. "No need to apologize. You and your men aided us in a desperate time. Without you, we would have surely met our makers." Lucas, still somewhat dazed but now more stable, asked quietly, "Who are these black-robed swordsmen?" Silas turned to his grandson and replied, "These are Marona''s men. She sent them to watch over us days ago, foreseeing the attack." Lucas nodded slightly, though a hint of bitterness lingered in his voice as he mumbled, "They sure took their sweet time getting here." The leader of the black-robed men reached into his pouch, pulling out three small vials filled with shimmering liquid. He handed one to each of them. "Please, drink this health potion. It will help you move better and heal minor wounds." Melius inspected the vial carefully, surprised that the man was offering such valuable potions so casually. Without a word, all three downed the potion in one swift gulp. Warmth spread through their bodies, dulling their pain and mending minor cuts. It wasn''t much, but it was enough to keep them going. The black-robed man spoke again, his tone urgent. "We should head to the city. The forest isn''t safe at night." In the cover of darkness, the group made their way to the city. Along the journey, Melius split off from them, heading toward his home in the outskirts. Silas and Lucas, now feeling somewhat better, continued on to the inn. Once they arrived, the black-robed leader turned to Silas. "Sir, I strongly advise you to relocate to Marona''s protection area within the black market. Your cover has been compromised, and staying here would be too dangerous." Silas nodded slowly, acknowledging the wisdom of the suggestion. "We will make arrangements." Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "My men will guard the inn tonight," the leader assured him. "Thank you," Silas replied, his gratitude sincere. Inside the inn, the morning air carried the scent of fresh bread and bitter herbs. Lucas and Silas sat quietly at the wooden table, the remnants of last night''s battle etched across their faces¡ªwounds, exhaustion, and the weight of survival. The crackling of the hearth did little to warm the chill of their thoughts. As they picked at their breakfast, two familiar figures approached. Aline, the innkeeper''s eldest daughter, stood tall beside her younger sister, Betha, who clutched the hem of her dress. Aline''s eyes shone with clear worry as she stopped in front of Lucas. "Oh, great Magus Almer, what happened to you, Lucas?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern. Lucas blinked in surprise at their sudden appearance, but quickly forced a casual smile. "It''s nothing," he replied, brushing off the question. "Just a run-in with some wild animals." Aline frowned, clearly not convinced by the vague excuse, but she chose not to press further. "If you say so¡­" she muttered, glancing at the cuts and bruises that betrayed the truth. Betha, small and innocent, piped up, her eyes wide with childish indignation. "Brother Lucas doesn''t love us anymore! He hasn''t come to see us in days!" Lucas couldn''t help but chuckle at her bluntness, his smile softening. "I''ve been busy, Betha. I''m sorry," he said, his voice kind. Betha huffed, crossing her arms. "Sorry won''t cut it! You''re always gone before dawn and back after dusk. What are you really doing?" She paused, casting a suspicious glance at Silas. "Is this old man hurting you, brother?" Silas, who had been quietly chewing his food across the table, choked at the accusation. He glanced at Lucas, eyes wide in disbelief, while Betha continued her playful interrogation, unaware of the tension lingering in the room. The weight of last night''s battle hung heavily between Lucas and Silas, but the girls'' concern brought a momentary warmth to the bleak morning. From the corner of the inn, a pair of dark eyes watched the scene unfold. A tall, scarred man with a missing hand¡ªNutface¡ªstood with his right-hand thug, Pugface, both hidden in the shadows. Nutface''s jaw clenched tightly as he observed Lucas laughing with the innkeeper''s daughters, the easy camaraderie fueling the rage that simmered within him. A cold fury coursed through Nutface''s veins. The memories of last night''s ambush, the blood, the losses¡ªeverything was gone because of that mage and one-handed Melius. They had stripped him of his men, his pride, and his power. Now, seeing Lucas smiling and chatting so freely, it was as if the universe itself mocked him. Nutface gritted his teeth, his scarred hand twitching with barely contained hatred. "You took everything from me, mage and the one handed fucker," he muttered under his breath, voice low and venomous. "But just wait¡­ I''ll take everything from you, tenfold." Pugface, standing beside him, nodded silently, his own face twisted with resentment for Lucus. The boy who chopped his cock. The two men exchanged a look, a silent vow of vengeance hanging in the air. The time for retribution was drawing closer, and they would make Lucas pay dearly for every wound, every loss. After breakfast, Silas turned to Lucas with a worried expression. "We need to leave the inn as soon as we can," he said quietly. "I can feel the malicious gazes of people around us." Lucas nodded, understanding the gravity of Silas''s words. They quickly packed their belongings. Lucas retrieved his bow from the corner¡ªa Crown Eagle bow. He had previously considered it useless in a fight against aura swordsmen. However, the events of the previous night had shown him the potential of combining it with aura techniques for long-range attacks. As they prepared to leave, Lucas approached the innkeeper. "Thank you for your service. I hope we''ll meet again someday, Can you please let Aline and Betha know that I''m leaving?" The innkeeper lady responded with a strained smile. "Oh, they''re busy at the moment, but don''t worry, I''ll let Alice and Betha know you''re leaving." Lucas sensed a change in the innkeeper''s demeanor since the morning but chose not to comment. He hoped to see Alice and Betha before he departed, but it seemed he would not have that chance. Silas suggested they move to a safer location within Marona''s sphere of influence. "We should head to the black market near Marona''s area," he advised. "Marona is a top potion master in Almera and wields considerable influence in the black market." Lucas, curious, asked, "Why didn''t we stay in the black market from the start, Grandpa?" Silas replied, "The black market is teeming with spies. If we had stayed there, we might have been attacked months ago." Soon, they reached Marona''s place, in black market of the city. 0019 Heart of Thorns - II Upon reaching Marona''s place, her initial reaction was one of frustration. "How could you be so foolish, Senior? I warned you not to venture out of the city, but you ignored me," she scolded, her eyes flashing with anger. "You and that one-handed fool are walking through the city every day, painting a target on your backs. If you won''t value your own life, at least value Lucas''s." Silas, recognizing the seriousness of her tone, interrupted before she could continue. "Yes, Marona, I should have heeded your warning. But the city is no safer either." Sighing deeply, Silas added, "Now that the cat is out of the bag, there''s no point in hiding the truth." Marona''s expression grew even more serious. "What''s the plan now?" Silas nodded, acknowledging her question. "You know who sent these mercenaries, right?" Marona''s eyes narrowed. "Yes, the Megenthores. They''ve learned about you." "I''ll need a favor from you, Marona," Silas said, his voice low and earnest. "I''m seeking refuge in your part of the black market. But be cautious; you''re going against the Megenthore clan." Marona, unfazed, replied, "If you didn''t know already, I''m already at odds with the Megenthores. So don''t worry. But you should be aware of who will be coming after you." Silas''s face darkened. "Yes, my clan brother¡ªThoren the Thunder." Marona nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I see. But don''t worry too much; I have a plan." Turning to Lucas, Marona''s expression softened. "Oh, my sweet Lucas, you look so wounded and bruised. Here, take this mana potion." Lucas hesitated. "But we''ve already had one. This will only heal minor cuts." Marona''s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "These are failed potions. I let my guards use them. But you know, even failed potions can be surprisingly effective." Lucas was taken aback as he drank the potion. Almost immediately, he felt the internal and external wounds start to heal. His AI beeped softly.
"Internal and external wounds healed 70%. Caution: Further consumption may reduce vitality permanently."
Lucas understood the trade-off for quick healing. He bowed and thanked Marona. Marona waved him off dismissively. "Don''t worry about it, child. Just give me two mana stones when you can." Lucas was shocked by the daylight robbery but understood the value of the potion. After a brief conversation, Silas and Lucas left for their new home. Marona had arranged a medium villa for them at the back of the black market. Lucas quickly realized that Marona was a significant figure in Almera, someone not to be trifled with. As the days drifted by in their new villa, the simple yet spacious home quickly became a sanctuary for Lucas and Silas. The villa, though modest, featured a large courtyard that offered a sense of tranquillity. Silas, seeking safety from the mercenaries and the looming threat of Thoren, decided to invite Meluis to stay with them. When Meluis arrived, his frustration was evident. "Why did you invite me here? I''ve already told you I can''t stand that potion dealer," he grumbled. "She''s a wicked person." Silas motioned for Meluis to sit. "This was the only way, Meluis. The Megenthores have already sent mercenaries to kill us, and they might strike again. We need to keep ourselves safe until Thoren arrives." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Meluis raised an eyebrow. "Until what? Do you have a plan? You can still run, you know." Silas sighed, his weariness showing. "I''m getting old and don''t have many years left. But I have a plan that ensures our victory." Meluis, though still doubtful, agreed to stay. As he did, Lucas arrived with a bright smile. "Hey, Uncle Meluis, long time no see! I''m glad you came." Meluis grinned back. "Why wouldn''t I come? Did you think I''d die that easily?" He then produced a large object wrapped in fine cloth. "Lucas, this is for you. Open it." Lucas''s eyes widened with amazement. "Really?" Meluis teased, "Do you think I''m lying?" Silas laughed, "Oh, you are." Meluis pretended to be offended. "Watch your mouth, old man." The three of them laughed heartily, the recent scars from battle fading away in their shared joy. Lucas carefully unwrapped the cloth to reveal a sheathed sword, perfectly sized for him. The blade was sharp as an eagle''s claw and as shiny as a unicorn''s horn, with intricate runic carvings meant to amplify Aura. Silas''s eyes widened in surprise. "This must be worth at least 20 mana stones. Where did you get it?" Meluis, with a mock frown, replied, "It actually cost me 25 mana stones. And before you ask, I bought it with my life savings." Lucas gazed at the sword, touched by Meluis''s generosity. "Thank you, Uncle. Why did you spend so much?" Meluis chuckled, "In my old age, I can''t spend that much on women anymore." Lucas, overcome with emotion, hugged Meluis. The older man was taken aback but quickly returned the embrace. "Now, now, don''t make me an emotional fool. I don''t do this often," Meluis said, though his eyes softened. Lucas smiled, feeling a profound sense of gratitude. He vowed to repay the kindness and love of those like Silas, Marona, and Meluis, who had supported him through thick and thin. The sword was more than just a weapon; it was a symbol of their unwavering support and his determination to honor it. After receiving the sword, Lucas eagerly asked Meluis to begin his training. However, Meluis declined without hesitation. "Take some rest for a few days. We''ll start the training then," he said firmly. "But I feel fine, Uncle," Lucas protested. "No," Meluis insisted. "Let your body recover, and I need time to heal my wounds as well." During these rest days, Lucas focused on tempering his aura and mana, steadily approaching the milestone of breaking through the 10 mana points. The next day, to alleviate Lucas''s boredom, Silas decided to take him to explore the black market. Lucas''s initial perception of the black market was far too small; it was at least ten times larger than he had imagined. They stuck to the areas under Marona''s influence and were accompanied by her guards. Silas, who had previously shielded Lucas from the darker aspects of the black market, believed it was time for Lucas to face these realities, so he would be better prepared. Their first stop was an armoury where Lucas purchased some arrows. Next, they visited a fine restaurant known for its rejuvenating vitality food. As they walked, Lucas was confronted with the harshness of the black market: a naked eunuch displayed outside a brothel, his balls and cock were castrated and slave collar on display. A slate next to him read: "New arrival aura knight. Fulfil your wild desires by fucking an aura knight." Lucas''s heart sank as he recognized the eunuch as the leader of the black-robed men who had helped them. Confused and shocked, he turned to Silas. "Grandpa, isn''t this the leader of the black-robed men? Why is he here?" Silas replied calmly, "He paid the price for his betrayal to Marona. He took money from the mercenaries to delay us in aiding and not warn us about the ambush. Now he will face death daily. Marona is kind, but she''s also ruthless in her justice. Sometimes, I fear her." Everything started to fall into place for Lucas. The dots connected: why the black-robed scouts hadn''t found the ambush and why they were late to the fight. As they continued, Lucas noticed a young girl, about the same age as the innkeeper''s youngest daughter, Betha, beaten and begging on the side of the road. He immediately thought of Betha and felt a pang of guilt for not saying goodbye before leaving the inn. Lucas approached the girl and started to hand her a gold coin. But Silas intervened, "I wouldn''t do that if I were you. Once you give her this coin, she''ll be robbed and possibly killed." Lucas had not considered this. Silas then approached a nearby food shop, handed over a few coins, and instructed the shop owner to feed the girl daily, warning him sternly against any deceit. The girl''s eyes filled with tears as she said, "Thank you¡­ young....aaa." Her innocence showed as she used the wrong form of address. Lucas gently patted her shoulder and said, "Don''t worry. You can eat at this shop for a few months. Don''t cry." With a grateful smile and tearful eyes, the girl nodded. As they headed back to the villa, Lucas felt a deep longing to say a proper goodbye to the innkeeper daughter. He missed them and wanted to express his gratitude for their kindness. For next day, Lucas planned to visit them, but Silas was adamant. "It''s not safe, Lucas." Despite Silas''s several refusal, Lucas persisted, "Please, Grandpa. Let me go. I promise I''ll take uncle Meluis and the guards with me." Silas, seeing the earnestness and kindness in Lucas''s eyes, sighed. "Fine. But we''ll all accompany you to the inn." Silas had been wrestling with his decision, but witnessing Lucas''s kindness amidst the darkness of their world gave him a sense of relief. It reassured him that Lucas still has a kind heart in place. 0020 Heart of Thorns - III In the outer slum area, Nutface and Pugface were seated in a rundown inn, their discontent palpable. Nutface, fuming, spat out his frustration. "Fuck that Marona! And fuck that mage and that old one-handed bastard! Marona gave those cunts protection, and now we''re powerless to do anything." Pugface, deep in thought, suddenly brightened. "Boss, there might be a way. If you''re interested." Nutface''s anger flared. "What are you suggesting? I need something to vent this rage." Pugface leaned in, his voice lowering. "The mage and that one-handed Meluis are fond of that boy. But there''s one weakness of boy that we can exploit¡ªthe innkeeper''s daughter." Nutface''s eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you getting at?" Pugface''s grin widened as he laid out the plan. "We''ll take the innkeeper''s daughter and defiled her then kill that slut. We''ll make sure the fat innkeeper stays alive to deliver our this message to boy. Breaking that boy mentally will surely inflict the greatest pain on the mage and Meluis." Nutface, initially confused, began to see the potential for devastation. A dark, sinister smile spread across his face. As night draped its shroud over the town, Nutface and Pugface prepared to strike. The inn lay in eerie silence, save for the distant howling of dogs, a grim omen of the violence to come. In the darkness, two figures¡ªNutface, tall and menacing, and Pugface, shorter and stocky¡ªmoved with deadly intent. Inside the inn, the fat innkeeper lay in her room, her two daughters nestled beside her. Nutface and Pugface slipped through the shadows, their red auras flaring ominously as they approached. Their mission was clear: eliminate everyone in their path. Nutface, with his remaining arm outstretched, signalled Pugface to commence their grisly task. Pugface, grim-faced and efficient, began methodically opening doors and silencing travellers with swift, lethal precision. Most were caught unaware, their lives snuffed out in their sleep. The last room awaited. Nutface and Pugface entered quietly. Before the fat innkeeper could stir, Nutface pressed his hand firmly against the oldest daughter''s mouth, while Pugface positioned his knife at the younger daughter''s throat. The sudden commotion roused the innkeeper, her eyes widening in horror as she saw her daughters held hostage. Her scream died on her lips as Nutface''s cold voice cut through the silence. "If you make a sound, both of your daughters will die. There''s no one left in this inn to hear you." Desperation took hold, and the innkeeper''s pleas turned into frantic sobs. "I have money! I can give you anything! Please, spare my daughters. I''ll do anything!" Nutface''s grin widened, revealing a cruel satisfaction. "Anything, you say? What you will be giving me is my vengeance." Nutface issued his orders with cold efficiency to bind the hands and feet of the fat innkeeper, her eldest daughter in her twenties, and the youngest daughter. Pugface, moving with practiced precision, swiftly secured them with thick ropes and gagged them with cloths to stifle their cries. As he took a seat on the edge of the bed, Nutface''s gaze was icy and deliberate. "You might be wondering why we''re here, why we''re doing this to you and your daughters. What could you possibly have done to deserve this?" Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.His voice grew darker, more menacing. "You provided refuge to my enemies. Your daughter''s dear friend and his grandfather have taken everything from me. So now, I''m going to make sure you all suffer, and by doing so, make them feel the pain." The innkeeper''s worst fears had materialized into a horrifying reality. Struggling against the ropes, she tried to cry out, but the cloth muffled her pleas. Tears streamed down the faces of both daughters, and in their terror, the youngest wet herself, the puddle spreading beneath her. Nutface''s eyes locked onto the youngest daughter with a chilling coldness. "Now, now, little one, this is just the beginning." Nutface shifted his gaze to the eldest daughter, her black and brown eyes mirroring her mother''s, framed by dark hair cascading over her curvy figure. Though not traditionally beautiful, her youthful charm was unmistakable. With a cruel smirk, Nutface grabbed her by the arm and, with ease, threw her onto the bed. His left hand tore her clothes away, revealing her nude body under the dim, flickering torchlight. The fat innkeeper''s muffled cries grew louder from behind her gag, her terror palpable. Nutface, ignoring her, with his raised thick hard meat he inserted in eldest daughter. The first strike sent her eyes rolling back in pain, her body convulsing. He wasn''t holding back, using his aura to amplify his strength. As a second-grade aura swordsman, he was three times stronger than an ordinary man, and the brutal force of his blows reflected that power. Each stroke was savage, the daughter''s muffled screams barely audible through her gag. Her body shuddered under the weight of his assault, and with each strike, the room seemed to grow darker. The youngest daughter, paralyzed with fear, fainted on the spot, collapsing to the floor. The fat innkeeper, unable to bear the sight of her child''s suffering, squeezed her eyes shut in anguish. Suddenly, Pugface''s voice broke through the horror. "Keep your eyes open, or the youngest will die." After half an hour of relentless thrusting, Nutface finally let out a groan he felt his rage begin to simmer down, his thirst for vengeance only slightly quenched. The oldest daughter lay dead after the intense shock and pain likely to killed her, the body broken from the relentless assault. Her legs and pelvis shattered, her once vibrant presence now gone, extinguished by the overwhelming pain and shock. The fat innkeeper sat frozen, her voice lost, silenced by the horror that had unfolded. Even the youngest daughter remained unconscious, spared, for now, the torment of witnessing it all. Nutface, his anger momentarily sated, gave the order with cold detachment. "We''re done here. Kill the younger one and leave her to die. The fat one stays." Pugface hesitated, his eyes fixed lustfully on the youngest daughter. His thoughts lingered on the injury Lucas had inflicted on his cock¡ªa wound to his pride that had festered. Nutface''s sharp tone snapped him back. "What are you waiting for? You can''t do anything you are a eunuch now just Finish her." With a grimace of pain, Pugface finally complied, his knife finding its mark. Blood pooled on the floor, the thick, metallic scent filling the air as the life drained from the girl. When the two men left, the fat innkeeper sat in silence. Her daughters¡ªher last hope¡ªwere gone, taken from her in the most brutal way. Her husband was missing, likely dead. She remained there, unmoving, until the first light of morning crept into the room, her spirit as broken as the silence that had consumed the inn. 0021 Heart of Thorns - IV From the moment Lucas woke up, he was excited and anxious about visiting the innkeeper''s daughters, whom he considered like sisters. He bounced around the house, calling out, "Grandpa, Uncle Meluis, let''s get going! We can have breakfast at the inn!" Meluis, slightly annoyed, sighed, "Calm down, kid. I thought you were smarter than this, but you''re acting like a child." Lucas, pouting, replied, "But I am a kid, Uncle." Meluis gave up, shaking his head in mock defeat. Shortly after, Lucas, accompanied by Silas, Meluis, and some guards from Marona, set off for the inn. The morning was still chilly, and as they neared the inn, Lucas noticed a small crowd gathered outside. Several city guards were keeping people at bay. A sinking feeling hit Lucas as his heart raced. Something was wrong. Without thinking, he rushed forward, calling out, "What happened? Why are the city guards here?" "Wait!" Meluis called, trying to catch up with the anxious boy. One of the guards, annoyed by the interruption, snapped, "Beat it, kid, or I''ll make you." But before the guard could finish his threat, Meluis''s large frame appeared behind Lucas. "What did you say to him?" Meluis growled, towering over the guard. The guard''s expression changed quickly. "Oh, I didn''t realize it was you, old Meluis. I thought it was just some nosy brat." He glanced back at Lucas, softening his tone. "The inn was attacked last night. Everyone staying here... they''re gone. Only the innkeeper survived." Lucas''s face went pale, his voice shaking. "What about the innkeeper''s daughters?" The guard hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "The younger one... she passed away quietly. But the older girl..." He paused, struggling for words. "She... she suffered. It was... brutal." Lucas''s eyes filled with tears as the weight of the words hit him. He took a deep breath, trying to hold himself together. "What... what happened to her?" The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The guard shook his head, unwilling to give the full details. "Kid, you shouldn''t know about these things." But Lucas, his voice firmer now, demanded, "I want to know. Tell me who did this." The guard, sighing deeply, finally relented. "We don''t know who did it yet. But whoever it was a aura knight... he was ruthless. The girl was defiled brutally by him. Every bone in her body was broken" Meluis put a hand on Lucas''s shoulder, trying to steady him as the boy''s heart broke. Lucus slumped to the ground, barely holding back his tears. Sadness morphed into anger. The person responsible for this would pay¡ªhe would make sure of it. They would pay a thousand times over. He spoke to the guardsman, his voice cold and sharp, "I want to see the innkeeper." The guard, taken aback by Lucus''s steely expression, nodded. "She hasn''t said a word since we arrived. Maybe she''ll talk to you." He called over a slender guard, who led Lucus and Meluis inside. From afar, Silas watched, confused and worried about the boy. As they entered the inn, the stench of blood filled the air. The guard led them directly to the innkeeper''s room. There she sat, drenched in the blood of her children. The younger daughter lay in her arms, while the older one was wrapped in a blanket. Her eyes were empty, lifeless, like she''d already given up on living. Lucus''s heart shattered at the sight. Rage and sorrow welled up, threatening to explode. Trembling, he asked, "Wh-who did this?" For the first time since the attack, the innkeeper responded. The guard was shocked¡ªshe hadn''t reacted when they''d untied her earlier. She hadn''t let go of her daughters. Her deadened gaze suddenly burned with fury. "You... How dare you come here and ask who did this?" she spat. "It''s you! You killed my daughters!" Lucus staggered back, confused. "No, please... you''re mistaken. I-I would never..." The innkeeper stood up, her bloodstained hands lunging for his throat. "Mistaken? It''s because of you that my daughters are dead!" Blood smeared Lucus''s neck and shirt as her fingers tightened. Meluis and the guard pulled her off. "Let me go!" she screamed, "I''ll kill this boy! I''ll kill him and that old man too!" Meluis''s deep voice rumbled, "Lady, you''ve lost your mind from grief. This boy loved your daughters like sisters. He would never hurt them." The innkeeper slumped back to the floor, her anger replaced by bitter sobs. "Yes, he loved them. And that love got them killed." Meluis and Lucus exchanged confused glances. "What do you mean?" Meluis asked cautiously. Her voice cracked as anger surged back. "Two swordsmen came here for revenge. They killed my girls because of him¡ªbecause the girls loved this boy. They killed my darlings because of that boy and his grandfather." Her eyes burned into Lucus. "They''re dead because of him." Lucus felt the weight of her words crash down on him. It was as if the entire sky had collapsed. He wanted to cry, but no tears came. His chest ached with guilt. This was his fault. The innkeeper''s curses echoed in the room. "I hope you and your grandfather die the worst death imaginable!" Meluis''s face darkened as he scooped Lucus up and carried him out of the room. The boy was silent, unresponsive, but the innkeeper''s words still rang in his ears, distant yet sharp. Outside, Silas was about to enter when he saw Lucus''s blank expression. "What happened?" Silas demanded, his concern obvious. As they walked past the crowd outside the inn, Meluis explained everything. Silas''s face tightened with anger. "Are you a fool? Why did you take him inside after hearing what happened?" he scolded. Meluis said nothing, realizing his mistake. Meanwhile, something had shifted in Lucus. The softness in his heart, once full of kindness, was now hardening. The heart of rose had turned into a heart of thorns 0022 Vengeance Coated With Blood All of them headed back to the Black Market, to their villa. As they walked, Silas and Meluis asked Lucas many questions, trying to comfort him, but he didn''t utter a single word. A coldness had replaced the warmth in his eyes. Silas felt sorry for Lucas, knowing he had to witness such horror at such a young age. Silas had hoped the boy would cry, ask for help, or seek comfort, but Lucas was just walking silently, blood on his clothes and throat, deep in thought. When they were almost back at the Black Market, Lucas suddenly stopped walking, staring down at the ground. Concerned, Silas asked gently, "What''s wrong, Lucas? Are you alright?" Lucas murmured something under his breath, too quiet for Silas to hear. He repeated it, a little louder this time, "I... I want those two mercenaries... alive." Silas reassured him, "Yes, Lucas, we''ll find them. But first, let''s go back and get you cleaned up." Lucas then looked dead into Silas''s eyes, his voice cold and emotionless, "I want them to suffer." Silas could see someone different in Lucas''s eyes¡ªthe boy''s kindness was gone. Silas knew how deep the scar on Lucas''s heart had become. Placing a comforting hand on Lucas''s shoulder, Silas said, "I know you''re angry. I promise, you''ll get what you want today." Lucas just nodded, showing no emotion. Silas turned to Meluis, "You and Lucas head back to the villa. I''ll return in a few hours." Meluis raised an eyebrow, "Are you planning something crazy?" Silas smirked, "Unlike you, I''ve got my head on my shoulders. You go on." With that, Meluis and Lucas left with Marona''s guards. Later, Silas arrived at Marona''s house, explaining the situation to her. Marona looked at him intently before scoffing, "You and that boy are stupid. You want me to find two mercenaries just because they killed some innkeeper''s daughter?" "I didn''t think you were this dumb, senior," she added. Silas responded calmly, "Don''t forget they tried to kill us also, The boy, Marona, he''s lost his kindness and his trust in humanity." Marona nodded, "Yes I know also, it''s good. Now he''ll learn how low people can stoop just to get back at you." Silas pressed her, "For old times'' sake, just find those damn mercenaries." Marona sighed, then said, "I''m already on it. Those two are in the outer slum area. I''ve got my spies, but it''s complicated. The outer slum is managed by the Beggar King. I''ll have to strike a deal with him." Silas leaned in, "I don''t think he''ll be a problem for you, right?" Marona shrugged, "No, but he''s a crafty, petty, and weak man. Senior, I value what you did for me, but consider all debts paid from now on¡ªno more favours." Silas nodded, appreciating her honesty, "I understand. I''m grateful for your help, Marona." Marona stood up, a glint in her eyes. "Looks like I''ll have to get my hands dirty. It''s been a long time. Meet me at my place tonight. You''ll have your mercenaries." In the outer slum area, an old man with a kind face sat on a chair made of bones. His gentle appearance clashed violently with his grim surroundings. He was talking to a boy of about nine years old. The old man''s voice was soft as he asked, "Hey, little Manny, why do you have so few coins today?" Manny trembled as he replied, "The people in the middle town... they don''t give much." The beggar king''s voice remained gentle, but his eyes gleamed with malice. "Perhaps, Manny, they don''t pity you enough with just one broken leg. What if both legs were broken? Surely, that would double your earnings," he said, letting out a maniacal laugh. Then, turning to his henchman, Juno, he said, "Break this boy''s other leg and send him to a richer district tomorrow. With real pain, his acting will be more... convincing." Tears streamed down Manny''s face as his small body shook with fear. He tried to speak, but no words came out. Juno, a large man with rough hands, grabbed the boy and dragged him to the back. The sound of crying and bones breaking soon followed, muffled by the laughter of the beggar king. Just then, a well-dressed woman, slightly older but with a commanding presence, appeared in the rundown courtyard. Her attire stood out among the filth, and the beggar children stared in awe, having never seen someone so graceful. A group of guards followed her, moving with purpose. She approached the beggar king directly, ignoring the men armed with knives who flanked him. "You must be the beggar king," she said with an air of indifference. The old man was taken aback by her boldness. "So they say," he replied cautiously. "Who are you, and what do you want?" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Feigning surprise, the woman smiled slightly. "The beggar king doesn''t know who I am? I suppose I''m not as famous in Almera as I thought." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. The beggar king''s eyes widened as he took in her attire more carefully. The emblem on her chest¡ªa mark of an intermediate apprentice from Felmora¡ªtold him everything. "You must be the great potion master of Almera. I never imagined someone of your status would visit this humble beggar''s home," he said, now with a mix of respect and fear. "Enough with the bootlicking," she said, her voice sharp. "I''m here on business. The stench of this place is unbearable, and I don''t have time for games. I want the location of two mercenaries¡ªone bald with a clean shave, the other a fat pug-face." The beggar king feigned ignorance, his voice still soft. "I''m just a humble beggar, madam. I don''t know anything about mercenaries." Marona''s patience was wearing thin. "You''re a sick man, so let''s cut the act. What do you want? State your price and let''s get this over with." The beggar king''s smile returned, but it was sly now. "I have some... children. They''re no longer fit for begging, you see. Accidents, and now they''re crippled." He gestured vaguely to the children huddled in the corners. "I want a better life for them. Perhaps you could take them off my hands. A mere 10 silver per child." Silence stretched between them. Marona''s face darkened with anger. "You''re out of your mind. I could kill you and find the mercenaries myself. It may take longer, but it would save me from this filth." The beggar king''s confidence wavered. His voice trembled slightly as he backpedalled, "Apologies, great mage. I was only jesting. You can have them for 5 silver each. Please, don''t make me go any lower." Marona weighed her options. The moral dilemma was apparent, even to her. She would have preferred not to deal with these slum children, but the price was a bargain compared to the slave markets, where war prisoners with broken limbs could cost up to 20 silver each. Also it will be a good experiment to check some potions on younger kids. If anything happen to this kids after drinking potion it''s on you Lucus because you want your mercenaries. Despite the discomfort in her chest, she accepted the deal with a nod. "Fine. I''ll take them. Now, tell me where the mercenaries are, or my patience will run out." The beggar king''s face softened in relief. He signalled to his spy network of children. Within moments, they handed over the location of the two mercenaries. In a dimly lit, grimy inn, Nutface and Pugface were celebrating their twisted victory. The air was thick with the smell of cheap ale and the sounds of raucous laughter. Pugface grinned, raising his cup. "You did great, boss! That kid must be crying and dying with guilt by now." Nutface smirked, though his eyes darkened as he glanced at the stump where his right hand had once been. "Yeah, he should be. But this¡­ this is just the start. I''m not satisfied yet." He clenched his left fist. "There are still things that need to be settled." Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a graceful woman stepped inside, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. She was dressed too elegantly for a place like this, a stark contrast to the filth and rough company. Her voice was calm but edged with menace as she spoke. "Ah, here you are. I''ve been looking for you everywhere. It''s almost evening." Nutface was caught off guard but quickly recovered, his arrogance bubbling up. "So, you''ve heard about the fat meat I am packing?" he sneered, and the thugs around him burst into laughter. From the back of the inn, one of the thugs shouted, "We''re not so bad in bed either, sweetheart!" The woman''s smile vanished in an instant. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a Level 2 Air Slice spell, and before anyone could react, razor-sharp gusts of wind slashed through the air, cutting down everyone in the room except for Nutface and Pugface. Blood splattered the walls, and silence fell as the inn turned into a slaughterhouse. Fear and shock flooded Nutface and Pugface''s eyes. The once smug expressions were replaced by sheer terror. "You were saying something?" Marona asked, her voice cold and unforgiving. Panicking, Nutface and Pugface ignited their red aura, a desperate attempt to escape. But before they could move, the air around them thickened, trapping them in place like invisible chains. Moments later, Marona''s guards entered the inn, their faces grim as they seized the two mercenaries. "Please, don''t kill us!" Pugface pleaded, his voice trembling. Nutface, his earlier bravado shattered, begged as well. "We''ll do anything! Just let us live!" Marona chuckled, her laughter as cold as the magic that had killed the rest of the room. "If I were you," she said, her eyes gleaming with cruelty, "I''d be begging for a quicker death. Mercy? You fools¡­ there will be none." It was late evening when Lucas, Silas, and Meluis arrived at Marona''s estate. As they stepped inside, Marona met them at the entrance, her face twisted in mild disgust. "In the basement," she said to Silas, her voice sharp with impatience. "I''ve completed the task. For your sake, I''ve endured more filth than I care to for a lifetime." Silas nodded in acknowledgment, his gratitude silent but understood. He could sense the storm brewing behind Lucas''s silence. As they descended into the basement, a dimly lit and cold space, Lucas''s eyes locked on the two men who were shackled to the wall, their necks bound with heavy slave collars. Fear and confusion danced in their eyes, but they were powerless, their heads hanging low. Marona stepped forward, her tone matter-of-fact. "With those collars, they won''t attack anyone or disobey orders." Silas glanced at Lucas. Even in the gloom, he could see the fury burning in the boy''s eyes. It was no longer the innocent anger of a child, but something darker, more dangerous. Silas turned to Marona. "I trust you haven''t suppressed their power?" Marona hesitated, sensing the change in Lucas. She shook her head. "No, I haven''t." An uneasy feeling gnawed at her, though she said nothing. This was no longer just a task¡ªit was vengeance. Lucas finally spoke, his voice quiet but deadly. "I want two healing potions. I''ll pay later, Lady Marona. And leave me with them¡­ for the night." Silas''s instinct was to intervene, to stop whatever was about to unfold, but he held himself back. There were demons within Lucas that he needed to fight, and tonight was the night. This was not a boy seeking comfort or help¡ªthis was a boy on the edge of a precipice, ready to plunge into darkness. Marona, her eyes narrowing slightly, glanced at Silas for confirmation. Silas gave a slight nod. He knew there was no stopping Lucas now. With that, Marona left them, her footsteps echoing as she ascended the stairs. Silence filled the basement, save for the labored breathing of the two mercenaries, now at the mercy of the boy they had wronged. As the door shut behind her, Lucas stepped closer, his face blank but his eyes seething with cold fury. Silas watched from the shadows, his heart heavy. Tonight, Lucas''s vengeance would be coated in blood. 0023 Longing Deaths Embrace In the dimly lit basement, only three figures remained¡ªLucas, and the two bound mercenaries, Nutface and Pugface. The air was thick with tension as Lucas glared at them, his eyes cold enough to freeze the room. If looks could kill, both men would have been dead already. Nutface, sensing the weight of the silence, sneered, "Kid, what are you staring at? Go on, take that sword and shove it in my heart. Save us all the trouble." Lucas''s expression darkened, and his voice, once soft, now thundered with anger. "You brutally raped the innkeeper''s daughters mercilessly, killed the younger one, just to send me a message. They were innocent. They had no idea what they''d done wrong¡ªno idea why they had to suffer. They were like sisters to me... and you murdered them." His voice grew colder. "And you expect a quick death? No no you¡¯ll regret the day you crawled out of your whore mother¡¯s womb." Nutface, eyes wide with shock, felt his breath catch in his throat. He glanced at Pugface, who sat silent, his face pale. The cruelty and darkness coming from this boy felt... unnatural. Almost like he is not a small kid. Trying to mask his fear, Nutface forced a grin. "What are you gonna do, kid? Chop off my other hand? Or maybe cry me to death?" He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. Lucas¡¯s voice dripped with malice. "Chop off your hand? You think I¡¯m some kind of saint?" He stepped closer, his face mere inches from Nutface. "No, you''ll be begging for death every second, but it won¡¯t come for you. Not yet." Pugface, who had remained quiet, finally spoke up, his tone laced with mockery. "Enough with the theatrics, kid. Get it over with. I¡¯m tired of listening to the ramblings of some brat who doesn¡¯t even have a single pubic hair on his cock." Lucas¡¯s face twisted with fury. "I hope you keep that attitude when you¡¯re lying there, wishing for death." His words carried the weight of an executioner¡¯s sentence, promising the suffering that awaited. Lucas¡¯s gaze turned icy as he focused on Nutface. ¡°Let¡¯s start with you.¡± With a sharp knife in hand, he cut away Nutface¡¯s pants his fat cock on full display. Nutface¡¯s aura flared with a deep red, but the high-level slave collar suppressed it, leaving him gasping and weakened. ¡°What are you trying to do, kid?¡± Nutface croaked. ¡°I¡¯m an Aura Knight¡ªlet me die with some dignity.¡± ¡°Dignity?¡± Lucas¡¯s voice was cold. ¡°Is it dignified to rape and kill young girls? And I haven¡¯t even started yet.¡± Pugface¡¯s eyes widened as he recalled his own painful memories with Lucas. When Lucus chopped off his cock in sneaky attack. Lucas gripped the knife firmly and made a precise cut. Nutface cried out in agony as he felt the knife¡¯s bite. Lucus with knife chopped off nutface''s nutsack. The nutsack splat of bloody floor. ¡°You sick kid! Just kill me already!¡± Nutface shouted, writhing in pain. Lucas picked up the bloodied nutsack from the floor and turned to Pugface. ¡°You¡¯re going to eat this,¡± he commanded. Pugface¡¯s face went pale, but the slave collar forced him to comply. Lucas approached him, holding the nutsack closer. ¡°Open your mouth,¡± he ordered. Pugface, though horrified, had no choice. Lucas placed the remains in his mouth. ¡°Chew it thoroughly,¡± Lucas commanded, his tone unyielding. Nutface¡¯s screams of agony filled the room as he witnessed the scene. The intensity of his suffering was palpable, and he could barely hold back his tears. Without warning, Lucas brought his knife down again, severing Nutface''s fat cock. Nutface''s cries turned into guttural sounds as he struggled to comprehend the pain. Lucas picked up the severed cock and, with grim determination, said, "Now, open your mouth." Nutface, overwhelmed by pain and the influence of the slave collar, had no choice but to comply. His eyes were filled with tears as Lucas forced the severed cock into his mouth. Nutface choked and gagged, tears streaming down his face as he was made to endure the torment. Lucas watched the two men writhing in their pain, but it brought him no comfort. The ache in his heart remained, a heavy weight pressing down on him. He couldn''t shake the guilt that gnawed at him, blaming himself for the deaths of the innocent girls. The memory of their suffering haunted him. Suddenly, Nutface stopped crying, forcing a twisted smile through his pain. "Yeah, I remember," he rasped, "Fucking that girl right in front of her mother. She begged me to stop, but I kept going, fucking her senseless." His smile grew darker. "I fuck her until she was dead. And you know what? I enjoyed it." A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. He paused, staring defiantly at Lucas. "Now, go ahead, kid. Get your revenge. Finish me." Lucas''s anger surged. His voice turned colder. "You think taunting me will make me end your life? You really are a fool." Nutface¡¯s attempt at provoking Lucas failed. The defiance faded from his face, and he broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "Please... just let me die. Let me embrace death." Beside him, Pugface remained silent, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. Lucas picked up the knife and, with cold precision, began slicing into Nutface''s skin, layer by layer. Nutface screamed in agony, his voice raw, but his status as a second-grade Aura Knight made it hard for him to pass out. His body¡¯s resilience only added to his torment. With the AI¡¯s guidance, Lucas made clean, sharp cuts, his movements calculated and efficient. Pugface, watching in horror, lost control, his body trembling as he wet himself in fear, the memory of his own injury haunting him. For what felt like an eternity, Lucas worked methodically, peeling away Nutface¡¯s skin. After an hour, Nutface was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, but Lucas wasn''t done. He retrieved a healing potion and forced it into Nutface¡¯s mouth, reviving him just enough for the pain to redouble. The freshly flayed skin, dripping with blood, was tossed aside. What remained was a figure stripped of humanity¡ªjust raw, exposed muscle, with Nutface gasping for mercy. Pugface, now completely broken, oscillated between begging, pleading, and cursing. His mind had unraveled under the pressure, the fear consuming him. Lucas, unfazed by the descent into madness, turned his attention to Pugface. With the same cold precision, Lucas began flaying him as well, peeling away his skin while Pugface''s screams echoed through the dark basement. It took hours, but eventually, Pugface joined Nutface in their grotesque transformation¡ªboth men reduced to raw, exposed muscle, resembling skinned animals. Lucas, his face emotionless, poured the remaining healing potions into their mouths. Their vitality returned, but so did the unbearable pain, amplifying their suffering. The two mercenaries, once arrogant and cruel, now screamed and pleaded for death, their voices hoarse from the relentless agony. Suddenly, Lucas felt the surrounding darkness grow heavier, cold and foreboding, yet oddly comforting. His body resonated with the darkness, as if embracing it. Without warning, his AI chip chimed:
Dark mana detected. Absorption in progress. Dark affinity has increased from 56.7% to 57.8%.
Unbeknownst to Lucas, he''d gained a subtle boon, but his mind wasn¡¯t focused on that. Not now. In the room above, Melius, Silas, and Marona sat in uneasy silence. Throughout the night, the faint screams of the mercenaries had echoed from the basement. Marona broke the silence. ¡°Senior Silas, dawn is coming. You should check on Lucas.¡± Before Silas could respond, Melius cut in sharply. ¡°You never should¡¯ve left that boy alone with those mercenaries. He¡¯s just a kid.¡± Silas met Melius¡¯s gaze, his voice firm but thoughtful. ¡°You¡¯re right, he is a kid. But he won¡¯t be one for long. There might come a time when I¡¯m not around for him. He needs to shed that kindness and see the world for what it is.¡± Melius frowned. ¡°But he¡¯s too young for this.¡± Silas¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Young? My half-brother Thoren was thrown into the fighting pits when he was only eight or nine by our clan leader. Lucas is stronger and more mature than he appears.¡± As their conversation continued, the door creaked open, and Lucas emerged from the basement. His clothes were soaked in blood, exhaustion etched into his face. ¡°I¡¯m done, Grandpa,¡± he said, his voice flat, emotionless. ¡°But I might need more help.¡± Melius spoke before Silas could respond. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of the bodies. Don¡¯t worry.¡± Lucas¡¯s cold eyes flickered towards Melius. ¡°They¡¯re still alive,¡± he stated plainly. ¡°I flayed them.¡± A stunned silence followed. Melius¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°How... how can you say that so calmly? This madness has to stop¡ªnow.¡± Without emotion, Lucas continued, ¡°I want their flayed bodies impaled on pikes outside the courtyard. Let the vultures eat them slowly.¡± Silas hadn¡¯t imagined Lucas would take his vengeance so far. Even he hadn¡¯t expected this level of brutality. He understood the fine line between ruthlessness and madness, and Lucas seemed to be teetering on that edge. In a calm yet firm tone, Silas addressed his grandson. ¡°You¡¯ve suffered enough, Lucas. But you must control your emotions. You¡¯ve had your revenge¡ªnow it¡¯s time to calm down.¡± Lucas, still simmering with anger, clenched his fists. ¡°But Grandpa¡ª¡± Silas cut him off, his voice growing stern. ¡°You have to be smart. We have other enemies to deal with. We can¡¯t risk provoking the mercenary guild.¡± His tone softened. ¡°I¡¯ve supported you through this, but you need to act with the consequences in mind, or you¡¯ll end up like me.¡± Lucas didn¡¯t reply. His rationality had been clouded by his dark emotions, and the kindness that once defined him was nowhere to be seen. Silas approached, pulling Lucas into a hug. ¡°Everything will be alright. I¡¯m here for you.¡± Meanwhile, Melius had descended into the basement. The sight of the flayed mercenaries made his stomach churn. He hadn¡¯t imagined Lucas would go to such extremes. Without hesitation, he ended their suffering with a swift slice across their throats, putting them out of their misery. The events of that night left an indelible mark on Lucas, shaping him in ways even he didn¡¯t yet understand. 0024 Looming Chaos For the past few days, Lucas had grown silent, his focus solely on his training. He had tasted the harsh reality of this world¡ªwhere kindness and love could cost someone their life. Whether in his old world or this new one, innocence was overlooked, and no one truly cared for the weak. To survive, Lucas knew he had to abandon his soft-hearted nature. In this world, the only truth was power. Sitting cross-legged, Lucas called upon the AI in his mind. The familiar beep echoed, and the stats appeared before him:
"[Lucas (Age: 7). Strength: 0.5 | Agility: 0.6 | Vitality: 0.55 | Mana: 9.8 | Aura: 20.8 | Status: Post-Awakening]"
''So I''m close to 10 mana points,'' Lucas thought. ''Soon, I''ll be able to start spellcasting training.'' He resumed his practice of the helix method, refining his mana and aura through hours of tempering. After what felt like an eternity, he sensed a shift. He had broken past the 10 mana threshold. The AI beeped again:
"Host mana pool has increased. Growth in white matter observed, leading to enhanced cognitive abilities."
Lucas felt the change immediately¡ªhis thoughts clearer, sharper, more in place than before. From a distance, Silas had noticed the mana fluctuations surrounding Lucas and understood what had happened. Approaching him, he said, "I see you''ve broken through the mana threshold. Impressive. It takes even geniuses a year to do what you''ve done in just three months. We will be starting spell casting soon" Lucas nodded, determination and hunger for power gleaming in his eyes. "We can start right now. I''m ready." Silas, recognizing that spark in Lucas, gave a slight nod. "Very well. Come outside to the courtyard." They both stepped into the courtyard, standing under the shade of an ancient tree. Silas spoke calmly, "You''ve officially taken the first step toward becoming an apprentice magus. I''ve already shown you the basics of level-zero spells. They may seem weak, but never underestimate them. When used correctly, especially in combination with stronger spells, they can be devastating." He extended his hand, and a simple rune circle formed. With a faint green hue, a small patch of soil, about a meter square, shifted beneath him¡ªjust enough to cause someone to trip. "Now, your turn," Silas said gently. "Remember, channel your mana through your mana heart and use your earth affinity as a medium."
Soil Shift ¨C With a simple gesture, Silas could soften or compact a small area of soil, creating minor obstacles. Effect: Manipulates terrain up to a square meter. Mana Cost: 1 mana.
Lucas had all the level-zero spell rune circles documented with the help of the AI. His current rune proficiency stood at 8%. Determined, Lucas channeled mana through his mana heart, using his earth affinity as the medium. As he attempted to draw the circle, it took him 30 seconds to form, far longer than expected. For a simple spell, only 1 mana was necessary, but just as the mana began forming the rune circle, it quickly dissipated. The AI beeped in his mind:
"6 mana points remaining. Further attempts may cause backlash."
Lucas''s face grew pale as the mana drained from him, leaving him visibly exhausted. Silas observed the effort and said, "Don''t be discouraged. Most novice apprentices can''t even conjure a rune spell. You''re forcing the mana. Let it flow naturally¡ªlike breathing. Stay calm." Lucas, frustrated but unwilling to give up, decided to try again. He knew it was hard without the AI guiding him, but he didn''t have the luxury of time to master everything on his own. Watching his grandfather cast spells within two seconds. He would use every advantage he had, including the AI. He steadied his breath and commanded, "AI, guide the steady flow of mana to form the rune circle. Target 4 seconds, and monitor how the spell affects the soil."
"Understood,"
the AI responded. This time, the mana flowed through Lucas''s hand, and within 5 seconds, the perfect earth rune circle appeared. The soil shifted slightly, moving a square meter of earth in a controlled area.
"Observation complete: the rune is channelling surrounding earth mana to shift the soil,"
the AI reported. Lucas had a revelation: runes weren''t just static spells; they were tools to manipulate the elemental mana in his environment. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Silas, wide-eyed, couldn''t believe what he had just witnessed. "That was¡­ perfect! Was it a fluke, or did you really understand the technique so quickly? How did you cast the spell so fast?" Lucas looked confused but kept his secret close. "I''m not sure, Grandpa. I just¡­ did it." Silas shook his head, clearly stunned. "It usually takes even genius novices at least 10 seconds to cast their first spells and improve over time. You''re no ordinary genius¡ªyou''re something else. Keep this to yourself, Lucas. Only use it when absolutely necessary, in life-or-death situations." Lucas nodded, understanding the need for secrecy. His AI was his advantage, but it could also make him a target. If anyone discovered his unique abilities, they wouldn''t stop until they figured out how it worked. Some crazy mages might open his skull to study it. After taking Silas''s advice to heart, Lucas practiced two more spells, deliberately slowing his casting to over 10 seconds, ensuring he didn''t reveal too much. The next spell was Dust Veil¡ªa swirling cloud of dust appeared around Silas, blinding anyone within a 5-meter radius.
Effect: Obscures vision for several minutes. Mana Cost: 1 mana.
Following that, Lucas attempted Dew Touch, drawing moisture from the air to create water on his hands.
Effect: Useful for cleaning or hydration. Mana Cost: 1 mana.
Silas stood in awe, watching Lucas perform each spell flawlessly. Despite spending years mastering these spells, Lucas had accomplished in hours what took Silas much longer to perfect. "That''s enough for today," Silas said with a smile. "You''ll practice more tomorrow, but at the rate you''re learning, I doubt it''ll take long for you to master them." Lucas nodded, but his thoughts were already racing. He wasn''t just going to be good¡ªhe was going to be the best. And he would do whatever it took to get there. The following day, the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the training ground. It was time for Lucas to spar with one-armed Meluis. Lucas had a wild plan for today''s match. In the chilly morning air, Lucas grinned at Meluis. "Uncle, ready for today''s sparring? I''d suggest you don''t hold back this time." Meluis eyed Lucas with curiosity, noticing the confidence in the boy''s eyes. "What? You''ve got something secret weapon hidden up in your ass that I should be worried about?" Lucas smiled faintly. "Something like that." Without warning, Meluis flared his red aura and launched a powerful attack. His greatsword, Honyblood, swung straight for Lucas''s head. Lucas, slightly startled, rolled to avoid the strike, but Meluis was relentless. A horizontal swing followed immediately after. Lucas, prepared, blocked the strike with his new rune sword, but the force pushed him back several feet. Meluis chuckled. "Come on, kid. Where''s this secret technique of yours? This is too easy!" Lucas, unshaken, provocatively signaled with his sword in one hand and the other behind his back, taunting Meluis to attack. Seeing the gesture, Meluis rushed forward, but his dominant right foot slipped as the ground beneath him shifted¡ªit was Lucas''s first spell, Soil Shift. Meluis almost lost his balance but steadied himself with his sword. Before Meluis could recover, a veil of dust enveloped him. His vision blurred as Lucas cast his second spell, Dust Veil, obscuring everything in a 5-meter radius. As Meluis attempted to leap out of the dust cloud, his left foot became stuck in Clay Bind¡ªLucas''s third spell. This one required more mana, but it was worth it.
Clay Bind ¨C With a wave of his hand, the ground transformed into sticky clay, trapping the enemy''s feet for up to 10 seconds. Mana Cost: 3-5 mana.
Meluis struggled, trying to lift his foot, but it was futile. As he flared his red aura to its peak, loosening the clay''s hold, a cold blade pressed against his neck. Shocked and dumbfounded, Meluis heard Lucas''s cold voice from behind, "Looks like you''re missing an arm and a head now, Uncle." The sparring match ended in dramatic fashion, with an outcome Meluis hadn''t imagined in his wildest dreams. A child, barely an entry-level Dawnblade Swordsman, had bested him, a second-grade Emberblade. Though he had fallen from his true Emberblade rank, the defeat was still hard to swallow. Meluis thrust his sword into the ground and raised his remaining arm in mock surrender. Meluis stood still for a moment, processing what just happened. His usual cocky grin had faded, replaced by a look of shock and disbelief. He turned to Lucas, eyes wide. "How in the world..." Meluis muttered, running a hand through his hair. "You actually outmanoeuvred me, kid." He sheathed his sword and let out a low whistle. "You''re a damn cheater, you know that? But hell, I like it." There was a mix of pride and frustration in his voice, the tone of a seasoned warrior humbled by a child. Meluis shook his head with a grin, slapping Lucas on the shoulder. "Your battle sense is insane for your age, and the way you chained those spells together? Impeccable. Honestly, you''re a demon, kid. Born for this." Lucas smiled modestly, "It''s still far from perfect. If you were at full strength or a medium-grade Emberblade, you would''ve broken out of that bind in seconds." Meluis scoffed in mock outrage. "Stop spitting nonsense! Do you even realize the gap between a Dawnblade and an Emberblade? You just bested me, a seasoned fighter, and you''re acting like it''s no big deal." He paused for a second, then burst out laughing. "Mages, man. Cunning and crazy." He shook his head, but there was admiration in his gaze. "Alright, kid. Round two. But don''t expect it to be this easy again." In the labyrinth of Almera, a black-robed man hurriedly knocked on a heavy chamber door. There was no response. He knocked again, louder and more urgently, until the door creaked open on its own. Inside, a haggard old man stood amidst a pile of mummified corpses, anger simmering in his bloodshot eyes. "If you don''t have a valid reason for disturbing me," the old man growled, "your soul will become my nourishment." The black-robed figure froze at the threshold, paralyzed by fear. The old man''s impatience flared as he barked, "Speak, fool!" Snapping out of his terror, the man stuttered, "My... my lord, I bring a letter from the Thorn of the Magenthore clan. He has sent 500 mana stones and promises another 1,000." The old man''s expression shifted, his interest piqued. "What does he want in return?" "He requests that we harass and attack Marona''s side of the black market until he arrives in Almera," the messenger replied, barely able to hold his composure. A slow, wicked smile crept across the old man''s face. "Ah... Almera is about to descend into chaos." His eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Inform the Death''s Hand: the peace treaty with Marona is officially null. Kill anyone associated with her on sight." The black-robed man bowed hastily and dashed from the chamber, desperate to escape the suffocating presence of the room. As he fled, the old man''s maniacal laughter echoed down the dim corridors behind him. 0025 Howls of Chaos In a dimly lit chamber adorned with dark wood and shadowy tapestries, the air was thick with tension. Marona, the Potion Master, stood at the head of a long, scarred oak table, her emerald eyes flashing with urgency. Her long, raven-black hair fell in waves around her shoulders, a stark contrast to her pale skin that bore the marks of sleepless nights. Clad in a dark green robe with intricate silver embroidery, she embodied both elegance and ferocity. The room was filled with powerful figures who are controlling parts of black market, each casting suspicious glances at one another. At the far end, Darius "The Broker" leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips. With his slender build and sharp features, he exuded an air of calculated cunning. Dressed in a sleek black coat that seemed to absorb the light, he was the very image of a man who could topple nobles with a whisper. His network of spies made him both feared and respected, and he revelled in the unease he sowed among those gathered. Seated beside him was Selene "The Veil" Darkthorn, her long silver hair framing a face that was both ethereal and menacing. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to see through every fa?ade. Dressed in dark leather that blended seamlessly with the shadows, she maintained an air of mystery. She was Head of the black market''s trafficking and smuggling operations, specializing in moving illegal goods, artifacts, and rare magical items. Garrosh "Bloodhound" Ironjaw, a hulking figure with a scarred face and iron-clad fists, sat with arms crossed, his impatience palpable. A brutal enforcer who controlled the underground fighting rings and gladiatorial arenas. In a far dark corner, Nyx "Shadowflame" Morvyn sat, the leader of the black market''s assassination guild. She controlled a legion of trained killers, and her services were highly sought after. Some members had not shown up, only adding to the tension that was thick enough to cut with a blade. Marona began, her voice steady yet filled with urgency. "My men in the outer areas are under attack by Death''s Hand. This aggression cannot go unanswered. We need to unite against this treachery." Her heart raced with anger as she scanned the faces around her. Darius the broker leaned forward, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You do realize, dear Marona, that Thoren has paid Death''s Hand to attack you? A strategic move to eliminate you from the board." The room fell silent, and a collective gasp echoed among the gathered factions. Marona¡¯s eyes widened, and her stomach twisted as the revelation settled in. "You''re saying he orchestrated this?!" Marona''s voice rose, tinged with disbelief and fury. "After everything, he still chooses to play games?" Thoren of the Magenthore clan had always been a complicated thread in her life. Their relationship had once been playful in a twisted way, Thoren indulging her antics, even amused by her schemes and provocations. She had often danced on the edge, testing him, and in return, he would engage her, sometimes with bemused tolerance, sometimes with a dark edge of control. He had never pushed too hard, never crossed the line until now. This time, he had taken things too far. It wasn¡¯t just a game anymore. It was personal, lethal. What had begun as a dance of rivalry had now escalated into a brutal contest for survival. His rejection for her love years ago had been painful, but this? This was far worse. Selene The Veil interjected, her voice cool and calculating. "Your constant skirmishes with him have provoked this, Marona. Perhaps it¡¯s time to reconsider your approach." Garrosh the Bloodhound scoffed, ¡°Why should we risk our own necks for you? This has always been your feud. You can¡¯t expect us to jump in just because you¡¯re in a bind.¡± Marona¡¯s expression hardened. At that moment, Nyx the Shadowflame, who had been silent, finally spoke from the shadows, her voice like a chilling whisper. "Thoren presses so hard because of Silas. You gave asylum to the man who destroyed a branch of the Magenthore clan. This isn''t just about you anymore, Marona. Thoren sees this as revenge for his family." Marona¡¯s blood ran cold as Nyx¡¯s words sank in. Silas. She had known offering him protection would be dangerous, but she hadn¡¯t expected Thoren to go to these lengths. Their complicated history had made her believe, in some small, na?ve way, that he would never truly cross this line. But he had. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of personal vendetta; Thoren was fighting for his clan¡¯s pride, and in doing so, he had rallied the entire Magenthore clan against her. The tension in the room escalated as Darius the broker smiled, his expression one of twisted delight. "Ah, but you''ve crossed a line now. This isn''t just personal for Thoren; it''s about his clan''s pride. You''re on your own, Marona. None of us will risk Thoren''s wrath for a grudge that¡¯s entirely yours." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. With that, Marona felt a wave of despair wash over her. The very people she had thought would stand by her had turned away. She said with anger, "I need your help! If we do not act together, Death''s Hand will overrun my territory, and you will all pay the price!" Silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the sound of Marona''s heavy breathing. The Broker¡¯s smile faded as he considered the implications of her words, but it was too late; the others had made their choices. Marona''s heart raced with rage and a painful clarity as the realization settled in: she was alone in a game where everyone played for themselves. Back at the villa, on Marona''s side of the black market, Lucas had been observing the increasing chaos over the past few days. Murders on the streets, sudden explosions, and all the nearby shops were shuttered. Despite the danger, Lucas decided not to intervene unless the villa''s safety was directly threatened. Most of the guards sent by Marona had been recalled on her orders, further proof that something dangerous a power struggle was brewing within the black market. Suddenly, an old man, skinny to the bone, arrived at the villa gate. His mouth was sewn shut, and he wore a slave collar around his neck. The guards, ever vigilant, blocked his path. The plump guard sneered and asked, "What are you doing here, old bones? Do you have a death wish? People are being murdered all around. Shoo, fuck off to your master!" The second guard, sharper, smacked the other¡¯s arm. "Are you blind, fat ass? Can¡¯t you see his mouth is stitched shut? Why are you asking stupid questions?" The old man, seemingly in a trance, reached into his tattered cloak and pulled out a leather scroll. He tried to hand it to the guards, but the plump one raised his spear. "I said get lost! Are you dumb?" The old man, ignoring him, locked eyes with Lucas through the gate. Raising the scroll high, he tossed it toward the guards before collapsing to the ground, slicing his own throat open. Blood pooled around his lifeless body as the guards, initially wary of a trap, jumped back. But nothing happened. Lucas watched the scene in shock, his heart racing. Silas and Meluis quickly arrived at the gate, alerted by the commotion. Lucas commanded, "AI, scan the scroll for traps." AI beeped in response,
"Scanning... No traps detected. The scroll contains faint magical residue. Safe to open."
Silas stepped forward, observing the scroll. "No significant mana fluctuations. I think it''s safe." He picked up the scroll and unrolled it, but the parchment was blank, save for a single word at the bottom: Marona. Silas''s face darkened. "This is a blood scroll. Someone¡¯s trying to send Marona a message." The group quickly informed Marona of the situation. Silas decided they needed to visit her immediately, especially given the escalating violence in the black market. As evening fell, Silas, Meluis, and Lucas made their way through the desolate streets. Corpses rotted on the side of the road, the stench of death thick in the air. Meluis looked around and muttered, "The situation looks worse than I thought." Silas nodded grimly. "We should hurry before nightfall." When they finally reached Marona''s residence, it was a stark contrast to the emptiness outside. The villa was bustling with activity, war preparations clearly underway. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, and the atmosphere was charged with tension. The head guard approached and led them inside to meet Marona. After pulling the rope to ring the bell, they waited. Marona appeared soon after, her exhaustion evident in her pale face and dark-circled eyes. The recent attacks had clearly taken their toll. They entered the house and sat down. Marona spoke before they could. "I was just about to send someone to contact you," she began, her voice weary. "The situation has gotten out of hand." Silas frowned. "What do you mean?" With a sigh, Marona explained, "The recent attacks by Death''s Hand were orchestrated by Thoren. He''s punishing me for meddling in his business specifically for harbouring you, Silas." She paused, her voice tinged with regret. "I knew there would be repercussions, but I didn''t think he''d go this far. He¡¯s serious this time." Silas¡¯s expression grew darker. "What about the other black market leaders? Don¡¯t you have a pact with them?" Marona¡¯s eyes flashed with anger, but her voice softened. "The pact is nothing more than words now. None of them want to risk conflict with Thoren. They¡¯ve abandoned me." A heavy silence filled the room. She continued, "I promised to give you sanctuary, and I¡¯ll honour that. But I can¡¯t guarantee your safety if Thoren comes to Almera." Silas¡¯s jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Thank you, Marona. You¡¯ve done enough. When Thoren arrives, I¡¯ll deal with him. I have a plan." Marona forced a tired smile. "I hope your plan is solid, senior. Thoren is not someone to trifle with." "I know," Silas replied, his voice steady. "After all, he¡¯s my clan brother." Silas pulled out the leather scroll they had found earlier. "This is the real reason we came here. A blood scroll was delivered to our villa by an old man with his mouth sewn shut. He slit his throat after delivering it. Someone¡¯s trying to send you a message, Marona. The scroll bears your name." Marona¡¯s eyes widened. She quickly took the scroll from Silas and inspected it. Her breath quickened as she recognized the blood seal with her name. Without hesitation, she took a small knife, made a cut on her finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the seal. As the blood touched the scroll, the parchment glowed faintly, and words began to appear, slowly revealing themselves. Marona stood still for a moment, reading the message. A slow smile crept onto her face. "It¡¯s the location of Death''s Hand''s base. The labyrinth beneath Almera." Meluis raised an eyebrow. "Could be a trap." "Maybe," Marona replied, her eyes gleaming with the hunger for revenge. "But it¡¯s our best chance to strike back at that crafty old dark magus apprentice." She looked at Silas, her voice firm. "I¡¯ll need your help, senior." Silas understood the weight of her request. He owed Marona for her protection and knew the price of such favors. He nodded. "You can count on me." Marona''s smile widened, fuelled by vengeance. "Good. I¡¯ll gather all my resources and prepare for a surprise attack." As the conversation shifted to strategy, Lucas remained silent. His expression darkened as he thought about the impending chaos they were about to plunge into. But more than anything, he was worried about Thoren the looming threat that hung over them like a storm cloud. He could only trust in his grandfather¡¯s plan, hoping it would be enough to face the dangerous enemy ahead. 0026 Labyrinth Of Chaos - I Lucas, Meluis, and Silas sat around the dimly lit war table in Marona''s villa, the flicker of candlelight casting long, restless shadows across their faces. The air was thick with tension, and the storm brewing outside mirrored the battle plans brewing within. Laid out before them were Marona''s precious stock of potions¡ªvials and flasks shimmering faintly in the low light, each one a small lifeline in the dangerous task ahead. Silas was engrossed in the bloodied scroll in his hands, his expression unreadable. But slowly, a smile curled on his lips, dark and knowing, as if he was remembering an old trap. "It''s a trap already," Silas said with a quiet confidence, glancing at Marona. Marona raised an eyebrow, confused. "How do you know? Did I miss something in the scroll?" Silas gave her a cryptic look and shrugged. "Trust me. I just know." Lucas, intrigued by Silas''s certainty, leaned forward. His eyes, usually so calm, flickered with curiosity. "Can I take a look?" Without a word, Silas handed over the scroll, still bearing traces of blood magic, its surface pulsing faintly with residual energy. Lucas unfurled the ancient leather, studying the maze of tunnels. The map was intricate, deadly, with narrow corridors twisting into dead ends. At the center, a blood-red ''X'' marked the location of Death''s Hand''s base. This isn''t just a map. This is a death trap, waiting to spring. "AI," Lucas whispered, his voice barely audible, "scan this and project a 3D model." The AI beeped softly, an eerie contrast to the grim surroundings.
"Scanning¡­ converting to 3D model."
In moments, the labyrinth came to life in Lucas''s mind¡ªevery tunnel, every tight corner, every potential ambush point rendered in vivid detail. He could practically feel the weight of the walls closing in, the deadly secrets of the tunnels laid bare before him. Lucas handed the scroll back to Silas. "The tunnels are intricate, but there are weak points. There''s something we can use to turn this in our favor. I''ll explain when we''ve finalized the plan." Silas nodded thoughtfully, handing the scroll back to Marona. Before Lucas could speak again, Meluis broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "The old dark mage who runs Death''s Hand... he''s infamous among mercenaries. Ruthless. No honour. The kind of man who strikes from the shadows and never gives you a chance to fight back. Promises aura sparks to lure young swordsmen into his ranks. That''s how he''s gathered so many." Marona''s voice was cold, a quiet fury simmering beneath her words. "Yes. He may only be an apprentice dark magus, but dark magic isn''t about raw power. It''s about how low you''re willing to sink. And this one¡ªhe''s willing to crawl through the dirt to win." Lucas leaned forward. "How many swordsmen does he have?" Marona folded her arms, her expression hard. "Around a hundred, though most are low-grade dawn blades. Even so, in those tunnels, their sheer numbers alone could crush us. If we make a single mistake" She trailed off, leaving the implication to hang in the air. Silas, still studying the map in his mind, spoke again, his voice low and tense. "It''s not just the men. It''s the traps. They know the tunnels like the back of their hand. We misstep even once, and we''re walking into our graves." Meluis''s gaze sharpened as he turned to Marona. "We''ll need your potions, Marona. Every last one, if we''re to stand a chance." Marona''s eyes narrowed, the irritation clear in her voice. "Potions don''t grow on trees, Meluis. Do you think I''ve got an endless supply?" Meluis snorted, his tone dismissive. "I''m just asking a simple question. If we''re going to attack, we need to know what we''ve got to work with." Marona''s fist slammed onto the table, silencing the room. "I''m not a fool, Meluis. I know what''s at stake. I''ve prepared what I can¡ª20 healing potions, 10 blast powder flasks, 3 mana recovery potions, and 2 blinding flash flasks. It''s not much, but it''ll be enough to turn the tide when things get tight." Lucas, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke, his voice calm but commanding. "We need canon fodders numbers to win this. We need strategy. If they expect us to fall into their traps, we''ll flip the script. We''ll control the flow of the battle, not them." Silas leaned in, intrigued. "What''s on your mind, Lucas?" A dangerous glint appeared in Lucas''s eyes as the plan came together. "We trap the trappers." Meluis frowned, though his interest was piqued. "Trap the trappers? What do you mean?" "They''ll be expecting a head-on assault in this part of tunnel," Lucas explained, leaning forward. "But we''ll give them something else. We''ll drive them into their own traps. Once we deal with their swordsmen, we isolate the dark mage. That''s when we strike." Meluis raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. "You sure about this, kid? Sounds ambitious." Lucas''s gaze hardened. "Trust me. Once I explain it fully, you''ll see how it works." It took some time for Lucas to lay out the full plan, step by step, explaining how they would navigate the labyrinth, how they would use the traps against Death''s Hand. As the strategy unfolded, the room grew still. By the time he finished, a heavy silence fell over the group. Marona, always cynical, finally cracked a small smile, admiration flickering in her eyes. "You''re full of surprises, kid. If this works, you might just survive long enough to get a real reward from me." Hearing that, Lucas''s face flushed beet red, the unexpected praise catching him off guard. He quickly turned his attention back to the map, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up his neck. Silas stood, his face resolute, any trace of doubt gone. "Then it''s settled. We strike in three days. We end this." The room fell silent, each of them deep in thought, preparing for the battle ahead. This wasn''t just about defeating Death''s Hand¡ªit was about survival. The following day, Marona was busy gathering her guards and recruiting a handful of expendable soldiers for the ambush. She moved with purpose, her sharp eyes assessing every man she brought under her command. These were not elite warriors¡ªjust cannon fodder, meant to buy time in the chaos that would soon unfold.
Meanwhile, Lucas had spent the past two days immersed in intense training. His swordsmanship was improving with every session, and he could feel his aura growing stronger, thanks to the Helix Method of tempering. However, his mana remained stagnant. No matter how much he pushed, it seemed he had hit a bottleneck, frustrating him to no end. From a distance, Meluis and Silas stood watching, their conversation hushed but tense. "You''re not seriously considering bringing Lucas into the ambush, are you?" Meluis asked, his tone laced with disbelief. Silas sighed, a hint of weariness creeping into his voice. "Yes, he''s coming with us." Meluis retorted, his temper rising. "Has your brain finally got fucked from all those years of magic use? He''s a kid! This isn''t his fight." Silas''s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a grave tone. "And what do you suppose we do? Leave him here defenceless? If we all die in this ambush, do you think Death''s Hand will spare him? They''ll take their revenge, and it won''t be quick or merciful. They''ll hunt him down, torture him for information, and then kill him. We''re his best chance." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Meluis scowled but said nothing, though the glint in his eyes showed his reluctance. As the day of the ambush arrived, Silas found Lucas in the training yard, sitting cross-legged, deep in meditation. He could see the faint aura surrounding the boy, a testament to his recent progress. But Silas also knew that mana would be more critical in the battle ahead. Silas approached quietly, but Lucas sensed his presence and opened his eyes. Silas held out five small vials filled with a faintly glowing blue liquid. "What are those, Grandpa?" Lucas asked, eyeing the vials with curiosity. "Diluted mana recovery potions," Silas replied, handing them over. "But listen to me carefully¡ªdon''t drink more than two at once. Any more, and the backlash could tear your mana nodes apart." Lucas nodded, accepting the vials. He carefully placed them in his pouch, glancing up at Silas. "What about you?" "Marona''s already provided me with what I need," Silas said, his voice steady. "Don''t worry about me. You focus on yourself and staying alive today." Lucas gave a small nod of understanding. He could feel the weight of the upcoming battle settling over him like a shroud. This wasn''t just a skirmish it was life or death. "Prepare yourself," Silas added, his tone firm but kind. "We strike soon. This will be the hardest test you''ve faced yet." Lucas exhaled, standing up from his meditative posture, his eyes narrowing with determination. He had trained for this moment, and despite the anxiety gnawing at him, he was ready.
As per Lucas''s plan, Silas, Meluis, and Lucas made their way toward Nyx "Shadowflame''s" territory. According to the map, there were two known entrances to Death''s Hand''s base¡ªone nestled within Marona''s domain and the other on the border of Nyx and Marona''s territory. Instead of taking the more direct route through Marona''s land, Lucas had suggested a detour, an unexpected approach that might give them the element of surprise. Lucas had his rune sword secured to his waist, and his prized Crown Eagle bow slung over his shoulder. They moved through the narrow, desolate alleyways, the air heavy with the stench of decay. No signs of life. Just eerie silence. At the end of one narrow alley, marked on the map, lay an entry point into the labyrinth below. But then they saw her¡ªa frail, sickly child, huddled near a crumbling wall. The figure stirred as they approached, blinking awake. At first, with her slight frame and ragged clothing, she appeared to be a boy, but as the figure stood, Lucas realized it was a girl no older than twelve. Her face was pale, eyes sunken with hunger and exhaustion. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with fear. "Please!" she cried, her voice cracking. "Please, save me from these people!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled toward them. The desperation in her voice was raw, painful even. Silas instinctively stepped forward, concern flickering across his face. But there was something about the situation that didn''t feel right. His gut twisted, warning him to stop. "Wait," Silas muttered under his breath, raising a hand to halt Lucas and Meluis. His instincts screamed at him, but before he could react further, a sharp beep echoed in Lucas''s mind.
"Mana fluctuation detected around the girl,"
AI alerted him. Lucas''s eyes widened in realization. This wasn''t a helpless victim. It was a trap. His body moved on instinct, years of training kicking in. In one fluid motion, he unslung the Crown Eagle bow, nocked an arrow, and let it fly. The arrow whizzed through the air, striking the girl directly in the heart. Her eyes went wide, mouth agape in shock, before her body collapsed to the ground. For a brief moment, everything was still. And then¡ªBOOM! A deafening explosion rocked the alley, the girl''s body erupting in a massive blast of fiery mana. Smoke and debris filled the narrow passage, but Lucas''s quick action had saved them from the worst of it. Meluis stared at Lucas, stunned by the boy''s cold decisiveness. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, a strange look of respect mixed with apprehension crossing his face. Lucas''s quick judgment had just saved their lives, and even Meluis couldn''t deny the brutal efficiency of it. Before anyone could speak, a low creaking sound echoed from the far end of the alley. A hidden door slid open, revealing several black-robed figures¡ªDeath''s Hand assassins, their faces obscured by shadowy hoods. "Ambush!" Silas growled, his voice hard and steady. Lucas was already moving, his bow singing as he loosed arrow after arrow. Each shot was precise, deadly, dropping the approaching assassins with expert marksmanship. Silas, meanwhile, began muttering under his breath, his hands glowing as he conjured a spell. Meluis unsheathed his greatsword, Honeyblood, its blade gleaming as he swung it with a powerful arc, ready for the bloodshed to come.
At Marona''s side of the tunnel, under the command of Death''s Hand, nearly a hundred aura swordsmen and a thousand normal swordsmen stood waiting, poised like coiled serpents ready to strike. The tunnel was wide enough to accommodate their ambush, a perfect choke point. For the past few days, they had been stationed here, alerted in advance by their dark mage leader about Marona''s supposed plans for a sneak attack. Now, it was a waiting game. Suddenly, the sound of screams and the clang of steel echoed from outside the tunnel door. Their leader tensed as the entrance to the tunnel groaned open, and through the dark passage flooded not a small strike team but an army of normal soldiers. The leader''s brow furrowed in surprise¡ªthis was not the stealthy ambush he had expected from Marona. Instead, she was sending in hordes of cannon fodder. Has she got fucked in head? No matter. A twisted grin curled across his lips. "They''ll die all the same," he muttered to himself before motioning to his men. "Prepare for the slaughter." At his command, a thousand Death''s Hand swordsmen and archers leapt from the shadows, their blades slicing through the air. Within moments, chaos erupted as they tore into Marona''s soldiers, cutting them down with merciless efficiency. Blood splattered the walls of the tunnel, and screams of agony filled the air. It was a massacre. But Marona, standing at the rear of the battlefield with her 30 aura swordsmen, watched with cold calculation. Her head guard, visibly shaken by the carnage, couldn''t hold his tongue any longer. "Lady Marona," he said, his voice tense, "our people are getting slaughtered. If this keeps up, we''re doomed to lose. Please, let us join the front lines before it''s too late!" Marona''s eyes flashed with anger. "Wait for my orders," she snapped, her tone sharp enough to silence the guard instantly. She muttered under her breath, hoping that Lucas''s plan would work. Everything was riding on it. After a tense moment, she gave the signal. "Collapse the tunnel." The head guard blinked in shock, his face paling. "Lady Marona¡­ if we do that, our own men¡ªhundreds of them¡ªwill be trapped inside and slaughtered!" Marona''s eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "Do as I say. Those mercenaries are expendable. Get our trusted guards out of the tunnel and let the hired swordsmen die." Swallowing hard, the guard nodded and relayed the order. Five blast powder flasks were handed to him, their volatile contents glowing ominously in the dim light. With a grim expression, the guard hurled them at the tunnel walls. BOOM! The tunnel shuddered violently as the explosion tore through the structure, collapsing the passage with a deafening roar. The ground quaked beneath them, and dust and debris filled the air. Those at the front, caught in the slaughter, had no time to react. Hundreds of swordsmen were crushed as the tunnel collapsed behind them, sealing their fate. But amidst the chaos, a towering figure in heavy armor fought relentlessly, cleaving through Death''s Hand soldiers as if they were nothing. His blade flashed with deadly precision, cutting down anyone foolish enough to get in his way. His instincts flared¡ªsomething was wrong. Glancing over his shoulder, his worst fear was realized as the tunnel behind him began to crumble. With a burst of mana, he retreated with blinding speed, narrowly escaping the falling debris as it buried the battlefield. Panting, he made it to the edge of the collapse, his armor covered in dust. "That cruel woman," he muttered under his breath, half in admiration, half in disbelief. He wasn''t alone. Fifty normal swordsmen had survived the collapse, many of them equally stunned by Marona''s ruthless tactics. The air was thick with curses and grumbles as the surviving soldiers voiced their frustration at their employer''s betrayal. Before tensions could erupt, the leader of the aura swordsmen, a battle-hardened veteran, stepped forward, his voice calm but commanding. "The dead are dead. Those of you who wish to walk away, do so. For those who stay, there will be ample reward." About forty men, grumbling in defiance, turned to leave, wanting no part in further betrayal. But before they could make it far, the remaining thirty aura swordsmen sprang into action. Blades flashed, and in an instant, the deserters were cut down where they stood. Blood stained the ground as their bodies hit the floor with sickening thuds. The aura swordsman leader sheathed his blade, his voice ringing through the silence. "Good choice, those of you who stayed. Your loyalty will not go unrewarded." Among the few who remained, most were too paralyzed by fear to move, which, ironically, had saved their lives. The heavily armoured swordsman stood watching, his face hidden beneath his helmet, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Marona''s plan was brutal, but it had worked to perfection. "She''s more cunning than I thought," he murmured, amusement lacing his words as he turned to join the survivors, ready to regroup for the next phase of the battle.
On Lucas''s side of the tunnel, they moved cautiously, grateful for the reduced patrols. Most of the Death''s Hand soldiers were preoccupied with the fierce battle on Marona''s side, leaving this area vulnerable. After navigating several traps over the course of a few hours, they finally arrived at the rear of the tunnel, where the sounds of clashing swords and distant roars echoed ominously. Silas stepped forward, pulling out five blast powder flasks. "Meluis, it''s time," he said, handing the vials to him. With a confident grin, Meluis took the flasks and hurled them against the tunnel walls. The explosions rocked the passage, sending debris flying as the tunnel began to collapse, sealing off any escape for the Death''s Hand soldiers. "Let''s head back and regroup with Marona," Silas instructed, glancing over his shoulder to ensure they weren''t followed. As they retreated, a sense of victory surged within Lucas. They had successfully trapped their enemies¡ªnow it was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, on the other side of the collapsed tunnel, the leader of Death''s Hand stood clad in black armour, fury radiating from him. He had watched in horror as Marona sacrificed her cannon fodder, trapping his men like rats. Panic was spreading among his soldiers as they frantically clawed at the rubble, trying to clear the entrance. "Damn you, Marona!" he cursed, his voice a venomous hiss. "If I survive this, I will fuck you up!" But deep down, he knew his chances of survival were slim to none. As chaos erupted in the labyrinth, his men''s shouts grew louder, a cacophony of fear and desperation. The realization of their impending doom hung heavy in the air, suffocating them more effectively than the collapsing tunnel. Back in the shadows, Lucas, Meluis, and Silas listened to the pandemonium, a mixture of dread and exhilaration coursing through them. The trap had been set, and now they would wait for the perfect moment to strike. 0027 Labyrinth Of Chaos - II In the depths of a dark labyrinth, within a chamber shrouded in malevolence, an old dark apprentice magus stood within an intricate eight-node rune circle. Each node held a half-dead human, their bodies twisted and broken from inhuman torture, lingering in agony. The magus, cloaked in shadows, focused intently as he cultivated his dark mana, feeling the power pulse through him like a heartbeat. Suddenly, a loud banging echoed against the heavy door of the chamber, the sound reverberating through the stillness. The old magus had anticipated this interruption; Thoren of the Magenthore clan had warned him of Marona''s impending attack. The door creaked open with a haunted groan, revealing several black-robed guards, their faces pale and trembling. Impatience laced the magus''s voice as he demanded, "Speak! Did we kill Marona? Don''t concern yourself with casualties¡ªjust tell me!" One of the guards, visibly shaken, gathered his courage. "L-lord, we lost almost all our fighters. Only a handful remain." Fury ignited within the old magus, and he clenched his teeth, the air thickening with his dark energy. "How?" he growled. The guard, now completely fearful, stammered, "Marona launched a massive assault on our men through the tunnel from her territory. She sacrificed hundreds of her cannon fodder swordsmen and blew up the front side of the tunnel." "That mad bitch!" the magus roared, his anger boiling over. "But I still don''t understand how this cost us all our men!" Then the guard''s last sentence struck the old magus like a hammer: "Someone from Marona''s side infiltrated the Nyx side of the tunnel and blew it up from behind, trapping our swordsmen inside." The revelation sent a wave of dark mana oozing from the magus, the humans at each node of the rune circle disintegrating into lifeless husks. He realized that no one from his side could have leaked information; all of them bore the curse of the heart. Any attempt to betray him would result in their hearts exploding in a shower of gore. The Nyx, the Shadowflame, was bound by a blood pact to him¡ªso who had betrayed him? "Darius ''The Broker''?" he thought bitterly, his mind racing with rage. "That scum! Whoever did this will pay the price." With a hurried wave of his hand, he barked, "Inform Nyx about the attack and gather our remaining forces!" The black-robed man bowed deeply, fear etched into his features. "The lady Nyx is already on her way, my lord." An evil smile curled on the magus''s lips as dark thoughts twisted in his mind. "Today, Marona, you will die. And I will torture your soul for eternity."
As planned, Lucas, Silas, and Meluis waited near Nyx and Marona''s territory. Soon, they heard the sound of about forty swordsmen accompanying Marona through the dark alley. Marona approached Lucas and his team, a confident smile on her face. "You guys don''t look so bad. I guess it was smooth sailing for you," she said, her tone light. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Silas scoffed, crossing his arms. "I wouldn''t say it was smooth sailing." Marona waved a hand dismissively. "Let''s not waste time; let''s finish what we started." With that, they entered the labyrinth of tunnels, Marona at the forefront and Lucas guiding the guards toward the Death''s Hand''s main base. About ten hired swordsmen led the group, followed by half a dozen aura swordsmen, while the rest trailed behind, flanking Marona and Lucas. Lucas kept his focus sharp, scanning their surroundings as his instincts were on high alert. Suddenly, a warning beeped from his AI.
"Minor mana fluctuation detected ahead. Host advised to proceed with caution."
In a loud voice, Lucas called for everyone to stop. Most responded quickly, but a few hired swordsmen were slower on the uptake. From the shadows, a startled black-robed man triggered the trap. Instantly, four of the hired swordsmen were enveloped in a cloud of poisonous gas, collapsing lifelessly to the ground. Lucas spotted the robed man lurking in the shadows and, without hesitation, loosed an arrow from his Crown Eagle bow. The arrow struck true, and the black-robed figure slumped dead into the darkness. Marona observed with a mix of admiration and relief. If it hadn¡¯t been for Lucas¡¯s quick reflexes, all of the hired swordsmen might have perished. Among them, a fully armored swordsman looked intently at Lucas, clearly impressed by his swift action. Marona swiftly cast the Air Sweep spell, which cleared the poisonous fog from their path. Lucas wanted to observe the intricacies of her spell, but it happened so fast that he barely registered it.
Air Sweep Spell Description: The caster conjures a wave of compressed air to push back enemies or objects. Effect: Knocks back targets and can disrupt their balance. Mana Cost: 3-5 mana.
"Impressive," he muttered, still processing the close call. After losing four men to the trap, everyone was on high alert. With the aid of his AI, Lucas managed to detect and avoid further traps, maintaining their pace through the tunnel. Despite his efforts, they encountered more hazards¡ªspiked potholes, deadly rune traps, and other lethal dangers¡ªand lost three more men along the way. Eventually, they arrived at the main entry tunnel to the Death''s Hand base. What they saw left even the hardened swordsmen stunned. The massive gate leading into the base was flanked by grisly crucifixions: young children, nailed vertically to the door. The sight was horrifying, a macabre display meant to force a terrible choice. The only way to enter quickly was by splitting the children''s bodies in half to open the gate. The pitiful cries of the children echoed through the tunnel, the innocent voices striking deep into the hearts of the swordsmen. Everyone waited, their breath held, for Marona''s order. With visible pain in her voice, Marona whispered, "What cruel monsters..." One of the hired swordsmen scanned the crucified children and froze in place, horror dawning on him. Among the victims, he spotted his own lost daughter. Without waiting for an order, he broke into a desperate sprint toward her. "Lily! Don¡¯t worry, Papa¡¯s here!" he shouted, his voice breaking. The young girl, drained by pain and sobbing, barely opened her eyes. With a hoarse, dry voice, she whispered, "Papa... please¡­" The swordsman rushed to her side, his heart shattered by the sight of her suffering. But just as he reached her, a shadowed figure loosed an arrow from the darkness. It flew with a deadly whisper and struck the swordsman in the throat. He collapsed instantly, blood bubbling from his mouth as his wide eyes remained fixed on his daughter. Lily let out a heart-wrenching scream, her cries piercing the silence and the hearts of everyone around. From the shadows, several swordsmen emerged, their movements swift and silent. Behind them, fully cloaked in black, stood the unmistakable figures of assassins. They flanked Marona''s group from both sides, encircling them with deadly precision. Marona¡¯s eyes narrowed as she murmured, "These are Nyx¡¯s assassins... So it was you, Nyx, the traitor all along." The realization settled over the group like a cold wave. Weapons were drawn, breaths held, and every man steeled himself for the inevitable battle that loomed. The tension in the air thickened as both sides prepared for the bloody conflict ahead. 0028 Labyrinth Of Chaos - III Marona and her team found themselves flanked on both sides. With a sharp command, her voice cut through the tension like a blade. ¡°Prepare for attack!¡± Ahead, twenty aura swordsmen and fifteen assassins advanced, their expressions twisted with dark intent. Lucas¡¯s quick calculations told himself that they had the upper hand for now, but the ground shifted beneath his confidence as the tunnel behind them¡ªonce their only escape¡ªcollapsed in a shower of stone. The earth trembled, sealing them in. The enemy moved in perfect synchrony. In a swift, practiced motion, they uncorked dark vials and drank greedily. Immediately, the air crackled with the surge of energy. Swordsmen who had once been of Dawnblade level now burned with the destructive power of Emberblade. Marona¡¯s eyes narrowed, disgust and recognition flashing across her face. ¡°The boon of Berserk¡­ It amplifies their aura for five minutes, but they¡¯re dead afterward. How did that old magus even get his hands on something this volatile?¡± Her voice lowered, almost to herself, ¡°This won¡¯t be enough to stop me. Not at this level.¡± ¡°Don''t get cocky, Marona,¡± Silas warned, stepping forward, his stance firm despite the pressure of the oncoming horde. His gaze flicked to the frenzied enemies, now foaming at the mouth, their eyes bloodshot with madness. ¡°These dark mages never make the first move unless they¡¯re holding something back.¡± The enemy¡¯s bloodlust ignited. With a guttural scream, the swordsmen and assassins surged forward, abandoning all tactics, attacking like wild beasts¡ªno regard for their lives, only the death they could deal before their own demise. Lucas kept his breathing steady, his mind calculating. His eyes scanned the battlefield, tracking movements with cold precision. He spoke internally, his voice low but calm. ¡°AI, assess the threat.¡± A beep followed, quick and efficient.
¡°Enemies'' auras have spiked to Emberblade level. Ranged combat strongly recommended. Host is advised to avoid close engagement.¡±
Lucas¡¯s lips tightened. He already knew what needed to be done, but hearing the AI confirm his instincts only sharpened his focus. "Then let¡¯s see how long they last before they burn out.¡± The remaining six hired mercenaries and thirty aura swordsmen were the first to meet the onslaught of the berserk swordsmen. Red auras flared violently around the frenzied attackers, their movements wild and unrestrained, as if possessed by the very spirit of war itself. Marona¡¯s men froze, the sheer bloodlust of the enemy shaking them to their core. The leader of the group, an Emberblade captain, turned back, raising his sword with unwavering defiance. ¡°We are the honorable aura swordsmen of Lady Marona! We dance with death daily! Let¡¯s show them who we are!¡± His voice boomed across the battlefield, a rallying cry of defiance. ¡°For glory!¡± The men, inspired by their captain''s words, banged their swords on their shields in unison, their war chant filling the air. ¡°For glory!¡± But just as the captain raised his blade for one final rallying call, ¡°For Lady Mar¡ªguk!¡± His words were cut short as an assassin¡¯s knife thrown, shimmering with deadly aura, sliced clean through his throat from behind. He fell, lifeless, before his men could even react. Despair gripped Marona''s swordsmen like a vice. Their leader lay dead at their feet, and now assassins lurked in the shadows behind the berserk swordsmen. All hope seemed lost. Meluis stepped forward, his face twisted with fury. ¡°Stop being a bunch of fucking cowards! What¡¯s wrong with you lot? Do you even have cocks down there, or just fat cunts? MAN UP!¡± Meluis¡¯s red aura exploded outward, a beacon of raw power that rippled through the ranks, filling the terrified swordsmen with renewed strength. Even the hired mercenaries, standing in their heavy armor. But one particularly large mercenary sneered under his breath, ¡°This one-handed fool¡­ I¡¯ll kill him with my own hands. But not yet.¡± The berserk swordsmen advanced from the front, while the assassins crept closer from behind, their knives gleaming with deadly intent. Marona, assessing the situation with a sharp gaze, turned to Silas. ¡°This might be a bit much for these guys. Should we step in and give them a hand?¡± Silas hesitated, calculating the risk. ¡°We¡¯ll use more mana than I¡¯d like, but¡­ yes. Let¡¯s end this.¡± They both began to channel their spells, but suddenly, a glowing rune circle appeared beneath their feet. Instantly, their mana began to drain, pulled from their mana hearts as if siphoned by a black hole. Marona¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°A mana drain rune! First the Berserk potions, now this¡­ That dark magus isn¡¯t as simple as we thought.¡± Silas¡¯s face mirrored her disbelief. ¡°Can you break it?¡± Marona¡¯s lips tightened. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. This rune is too large. It¡¯s being powered by something external¡­¡± Her voice faltered as she realized. ¡°A mana tower. This whole trap is fuelled by a mana tower.¡± Silas¡¯s face paled. ¡°How the hell does a low-level dark magus have access to a mana tower down here?¡± Marona, now serious, said, ¡°It¡¯s likely the lowest grade of mana tower¡ªtwo intermediate apprentices can break this¡ªbut still¡­ it¡¯s impressive.¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Her voice dropped into a resigned sigh. ¡°We¡¯re trapped. The tunnel¡¯s blocked, and this rune is draining us dry. I have to break it.¡± Silas¡¯s face filled with concern. ¡°You don¡¯t have enough mana, Marona!¡± She laughed bitterly, her eyes narrowing in defiance. ¡°I have a way¡­ but the rest is up to you, Silas.¡± Without waiting for a reply, Marona began pouring all her remaining mana into the rune. Her body trembled as the mana circle beneath them glowed brighter, hungrily siphoning every ounce of energy from her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breath quickening with the effort. As her mana reserves began to dwindle, Marona reached into her pouch, pulling out two mana recovery potions. Without hesitation, she downed them both at once, gasping as the bitter liquid burned down her throat. Pain rippled through her, and she let out a low groan as her body strained under the pressure. The rune, now glowing with intense light, began to crack. Slowly, its glow dimmed, the draining effect weakening. With one final push, the rune shattered, its power dissipating into nothingness. Marona stumbled, her legs weak, but the mana drain was gone. With faltering legs, Marona gasped, ¡°It¡¯s up to you, Silas.¡± Her voice trembled, a mix of fear and determination flickering in her eyes. Silas¡¯s face darkened, heavy with the weight of her words. The battlefield roared around them, chaos erupting as their foes closed in. From a distance, Lucas sniped the berserk swordsmen with aura arrows, his heart racing as he observed the unfolding drama. They were in dire straits; berserk swordsman fell after taking five arrows to the head, but Lucas knew that against the Ember Blade, their effects would be diminished. ¡°Lucas! Come here! Protect Marona!¡± Silas shouted, urgency lacing his voice. Drawing his rune sword, Lucas sprinted toward Marona, determination propelling him forward. The berserk swordsman collided with Marona¡¯s hired men. Lucas watched helplessly as five hired swordsmen were cut down, their mangled bodies falling to the ground. Only one tall, burly man held his ground, struggling against the relentless onslaught. In response, Silas cast a large mudpool spell, the earth beneath their feet shifting and slowing the berserk swordsman just enough to give Marona¡¯s men a moment to breathe. The acrid scent of blood mingled with the earthy odor of the mudpool, creating a thick atmosphere of desperation. ¡°Hold together!¡± Meluis shouted, rallying the remaining swordsmen. The mudpool had given them a glimmer of hope. Silas, straining under the pressure, launched two level-one stone spears. They struck the berserk swordsman''s heavily, but they still stood, a brutal grin spreading across there faces. Exhausted, Silas slumped to the ground, breathless. Meluis¡¯s expression turned serious as his aura flared, a fiery determination igniting within him. With a fierce swing of his greatsword, ¡°Honeyblood,¡± he struck the nearest injured berserk swordsman, cleaving him from shoulder to abdomen. The remaining Dawnblade swordsmen, emboldened by Meluis¡¯s display of strength, surged forward with renewed ferocity. The chaotic battle continued, but Meluis remained focused. He noticed assassins sneaking in toward the mages at the back. ¡°Form closer! Don¡¯t let them near the mages!¡± Meluis ordered, his voice cutting through the din. In the fray, he spotted the last heavy-armored swordsman, barely clinging to life. Leaping toward him, Meluis engaged the berserk swordsman who had been fighting the armoured man. ¡°No matter how skilled he is, he can¡¯t match the berserk¡¯s strength,¡± Meluis thought, a grim realization settling over him. He turned to the armoured swordsman. ¡°Protect the mages from the assassins!¡± The armoured man grumbled, annoyance etched across his face, but he nodded, moving back toward Marona and Silas. Together, they formed a desperate line against the encroaching darkness. ¡°Stay strong!¡± Lucas called out to himself, feeling the adrenaline surge. He was in fear, but he wouldn¡¯t fail them. The battle at the front was crude and brutal. Marona¡¯s aura swordsmen fought with desperation, their every strike fuelled by the instinct to survive, while the berserk aura swordsmen charged in as if inviting death itself. Silas had injured several of their foes, granting a brief advantage, but the assassins remained the most cunning threat. Meluis fought tooth and nail against a relentless berserk swordsman, their blades clashing in a furious exchange. With each step, they were forced back, and the Dawnblade swordsmen on Marona¡¯s side fell like autumn leaves, chopped down left and right, ambushed by the sneaky assassins. Now, only eight aura swordsmen remained against twelve berserk swordsmen and nine assassins. Silas sensed the assassins preparing to synchronize their attack on the mages. Acting quickly, he pulled out the half mana recovery potion he had. ¡°Marona, wait!¡± Silas shouted, urgency lacing his voice, but it was too late. With her last ounce of strength, she snatched the vial from his hand and drank it down. ¡°Why did you drink that? You already had two! You¡¯ll get mana poisoning!¡± Silas exclaimed, shock written across his face. Blood trickled from her eyes and nose, but with a fierce determination, Marona cast a level two Air Slice spell. The magical gust cut through the air, taking down six assassins and injuring eight berserk swordsmen. However, in her desperate attempt to avoid striking her own men, five of Marona¡¯s aura swordsmen fell lifeless to the ground. Meluis, despite years of battle experience, felt a searing pain as a large gash opened on his leg. With the aftermath of Marona¡¯s spell, she fell unconscious, collapsing to the ground. Now, only three assassins and four berserk swordsmen remained, charging toward the exhausted mages¡ªtheir true targets. Lucas felt the cold grip of death closing in around him. Desperately, he reached for two small vials of mana recovery potion and downed them in quick succession. As he felt energy surge through him, he casted multiple mudpool and clay bind spells, the pain throbbing until blood trickled from his nose. The heavily armoured swordsman stared at Lucas in awe as the clay ensnared the berserk men, foam spilling from their mouths. ¡°We¡­ will kill you,¡± they rasped, barely able to articulate their threat. With pain etched across there faces, Lucas managed a small smile. ¡°It¡¯s time for you to die.¡± In his mind, the AI completed its countdown, and an alert beeped:
¡°5 minutes completed; berserk phase ended.¡±
In a brutal display, black blood spewed from all the assassins and swordsmen, their bodies collapsing lifelessly to the ground. Exhausted, Lucas let out a long breath and collapsed onto the dirt, believing the nightmare was finally over. But just as relief washed over him, the large door behind him creaked open, revealing a horrifying sight: children were crucified at the center of the door, their cries echoing as their bodies tore apart. As the door swung wide, an old dark mage stepped forward, accompanied by Nyx, the Shadowflame assassin. Nyx scowled, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the battlefield. ¡°Why are they still alive?¡± she hissed, frustration evident in her voice. The dark mage¡¯s gaze fell on the unconscious Marona, drained of mana. ¡°Silas,¡± he said coldly, a hint of malice in his tone. ¡°They are just waiting for death. We just need to give them a push. I won¡¯t accept this level of loss. It will take twenty years to recover what I¡¯ve lost, but I will ensure Marona and this old mage pay tenfold for every drop of blood.¡± Lucas¡¯s heart raced, panic tightening its grip as he searched for any possible solution or trick to counter the impending doom. The shadows of despair closed in around them, the air thick with a sense of foreboding. 0029 Hearts Torn Asunder Blood trickled from Lucas¡¯s nose as he struggled to stand, leaning on his rune sword for support. The dark mage and Nyx, the assassin, were closing in. Marona lay unconscious, while Silas sat on the ground, too exhausted to recognize the looming danger. Meluis, with a gaping wound on his leg, was barely holding on, and the only fighter still standing was the least likely¡ªthe weakest armored knight, who had defied all expectations. Lucas, gathering his last reserves of strength, forced himself to stand. His grip tightened on the rune sword as he inwardly commanded the AI. ''Scan the enemy.'' The AI beeped in response.
[Scanning...] [Dark Magus (Age: 140). Strength: 0.7 | Agility: 0.4 | Vitality: 0.4 | Mana: 479 | Rank: Mid-level apprentice magus] [Nyx Assassin (Age: 47). Strength: 2.3 | Agility: 4.5 | Vitality: 2.5 | Aura: 698 | Rank: Top-level second grade Ember-Assassin ]
Cold sweat formed on Lucas¡¯s back. There was no chance of winning¡ªnot with Marona and Silas immobilized. Despite his enemy being only an apprentice, the dark mage had turned the battle through cunning alone. Lucas fixed his gaze on the mage, his death glare promising a fight to the end. The dark mage smirked, his voice old and gravelly, ¡°Stand down, boy. You¡¯ve lost. I¡¯d prefer my prize intact.¡± Lucas spat blood onto the ground, raising his rune sword in silent defiance. His actions spoke louder than words. The dark mage¡¯s amusement turned to irritation. ¡°Perhaps you need to be tamed.¡± With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a spell.
Death Grip Dark energy seizes the enemy¡¯s throat, choking them with lethal force until death or release. Mana Cost: 25 mana.
Lucas¡¯s throat clenched as the dark energy tightened around it. His sword clattered to the ground, and panic washed over him as he gasped for air. He felt death looming¡ªhis vision darkened, and despair crept in. Through his fading consciousness, he saw Silas, who was oddly focused on the knight standing beside him¡ªthe same knight who had survived against all odds. Silas¡¯s calm voice cut through the chaos. ¡°Brother Thoren, how long do you plan to keep up this charade?¡± The armored knight sighed and removed his helmet, revealing a man in his thirties with blond hair and striking violet eyes. ¡°Guess I can¡¯t fool my little brother anymore,¡± Thoren said, tossing his sword aside with a weary grin. Seeing Thoren of the Magenthore clan, both the dark mage and Nyx, the assassin, froze in shock. The dark mage immediately cancelled his spell and looked toward Thoren, bowing deeply. "I didn¡¯t know the great lightning mage Thoren was here!" he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "My lord, I¡¯ve subdued Marona and captured her allies." Nyx, equally shaken, bowed in silence, her usual deadly confidence replaced by fear. Lucas, now regaining his senses, stared at Thoren with a mix of fear and deep resentment. This man¡ªhell-bent on killing his grandfather¡ªhad shown up at the worst possible moment. Thoren, ignoring the mage and assassin, approached Lucas. "You surprise me, kid. How can you wield both mana and aura at the same time?" Lucas glared at him, hatred burning in his eyes. Thoren chuckled awkwardly at the silence. "Can¡¯t blame you for staying quiet. After all I¡¯ve done¡ªand what I¡¯m about to do." He pulled a small vial from his coat¡ªa green potion¡ªand tossed it to Silas. "Give that to Marona. It¡¯ll cure her mana poisoning." Silas caught the potion, his eyes wide, and hurried to administer it to Marona. The dark mage, now visibly confused, couldn¡¯t hold back. "Why are you helping her, Lord Magus?" Thoren¡¯s calm demeanor vanished, his voice turning icy. "Do I need permission from a dark magus to decide what I¡¯ll do?" Fear washed over the dark mage¡¯s face, his body trembling. "No, my lord, I was just¡ª" Lightning crackled around Thoren¡¯s body as his anger flared. "Shut your vile mouth! I¡¯ve heard enough." The dark mage recoiled in terror. "My lord, I only followed your orders." Thoren laughed, the sound sharp and mocking, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "Are you a fool? Did you really think I¡¯d give a large sum of mana stones to a dark magus? Your master is dead¡ªkilled by Rank 1 Magus Almer in Almeria. You¡¯re next." The dark mage¡¯s face drained of color. "What? My master is... dead? And you planned all this... just to kill me?" Thoren smiled cruelly. "You think too highly of yourself, old bone. Let¡¯s just say you were merely a pawn in my game." Nyx, listening intently, understood that she was doomed. Cursing herself for aligning with the dark mage, she felt a wave of regret wash over her. Her hatred of Marona had led her down this path to death. Nyx shuddered, her earlier confidence shattering as the reality of her fate set in. As Lucas listened, the pieces began to fall into place. Thoren must be the one who provided the map of the Death''s Hand guild, the one who orchestrated the guild¡¯s attack on Marona. He had weakened them, using the opportunity to teach Marona a lesson for defying him. Thoren was far more cunning and dangerous than Lucas had ever imagined. The old dark magus and Nyx could sense their deaths approaching. Panic flared in Nyx¡¯s eyes as she tapped into her top-rank aura, vanishing in a blur of shadows. She bolted for the dark crevices of the cave, hoping to escape Thoren¡¯s wrath. But Thoren only chuckled, his voice cold and mocking. ¡°Running? How predictable.¡± He raised his hand and conjured a Lightning Sphere, crackling with volatile energy. The sphere whizzed through the air, faster than Nyx could flee. In seconds, it struck her retreating form. A violent flash lit up the cave, and Nyx¡¯s charred body crumpled to the ground. She was dead before she hit the stone. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
Lightning Sphere Description: A rotating sphere of electricity that can be hurled at a target, detonating on impact with a chain reaction of smaller lightning strikes. Effect: Deals massive damage and sends out smaller bolts, striking nearby enemies. Mana Cost: 150 mana.
The old dark magus, now alone, understood his fate was sealed. Desperation crept into his voice. ¡°You might kill me, but before I die, I¡¯ll make sure you suffer.¡± His hands trembled as he conjured a high-level Dark Arrow, a pulsating bolt of dark energy crackling with malevolent intent. With a cry, he unleashed it towards Thoren.
Dark Arrow Description: Fires a bolt of dark energy, draining life force and weakening the target''s vitality. Mana Cost: 70 mana.
The arrow slammed into Thoren¡¯s Mana Shield, but it barely made a dent. The shield shimmered, absorbing the impact without a crack. Thoren¡¯s eyes flashed with disdain as he watched the futile attack. ¡°You think I¡¯m just an intermediate magus?¡± His voice echoed through the cave, cold and filled with authority. ¡°I¡¯m on the verge of becoming an advanced apprentice magus. You are nothing.¡± The dark magus¡¯s fear deepened. He hurled more spells¡ªeach one deflected, each one more desperate than the last. Thoren grew tired of the spectacle. His voice boomed through the cave as lightning crackled at his fingertips. ¡°Enough.¡± He conjured another Lightning Sphere, the electricity dancing wildly as it grew in size. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the sphere hurtling toward the dark magus. The sphere collided with the magus¡¯s hastily raised shield, shattering it like fragile glass. The impact tore through the dark magus, his right arm and shoulder obliterated in an instant. He collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His breath was ragged, and he coughed, splattering blood across the stone. ¡°Tho¡­ren¡­ I¡­¡± His last words choked off as the light faded from his eyes. Lucus stood frozen, shock coursing through him as he beheld Thoren. He radiated power¡ªlike a thunder god descended from the storm. Meanwhile, Marona, barely conscious, felt her heart race at the sight of the man she had once loved. He looked unchanged, untouched by time, a ghost from her past. Silas helped her to her feet, both of them trembling with the gravity of the moment. "Where did he come from?" Marona''s voice quivered, urgency spilling from her lips. Silas wasted no time explaining, his tone steady but laced with concern. As Marona absorbed the news, a blush crept onto her cheeks at the mention of the mana poisoning potion Thoren had once provided. But that moment of warmth quickly dissolved into panic. "He¡¯s here. That means you¡¯re in danger, Silas. I hope you have a plan." Silas nodded, confidence etched across his face. "Yes, don¡¯t worry." With each step Thoren took toward them, Lucus felt dread coil tighter in his chest. The air thickened, heavy with unspoken tension. When Thoren spoke, his smile was disarmingly bright. "Oh, rise and shine, Marona." Marona rolled her eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Stop this, Thoren. You paid the Death''s Guild to attack and harass me? I''ve lost all my men, all my fortune!" Thoren shook his head, irritation flickering in his eyes. "I did this for your safety, Marona. The clan leader demanded your head for harboring a Magenthore family¡¯s keen slayer. I bargained hard for you; for old times'' sake, this is the best I could do." Her frustration boiled over. "You did your best? I was almost killed!" "You were never in trouble," Thoren retorted, his voice firm. Lucus watched the exchange, confusion clouding his thoughts. This man, a supposed killer, was conversing as if reminiscing about old days. Marona crossed her arms defiantly. "Now what, Thoren? Do you want to fight with us?" Thoren laughed, the sound devoid of humor. "Fight? No, Marona. If I wanted to attack, it wouldn¡¯t be a fight¡ªit would be slaughter." Silas, who had been silent, finally spoke up. "Stop teasing us, brother." Thoren''s gaze softened momentarily as he looked at Silas, a flicker of melancholy crossing his features. "Time has changed you, little brother. The last time we fought, I thought I would never see you again." His tone shifted, anger simmering just below the surface. "But now, when you''re at death¡¯s door, you crawl out of the shadows." Silas''s expression turned somber. "I owe you a great debt, brother. But for my grandson, I must risk my life." Thoren¡¯s eyes darkened as he turned to Lucus, sorrow etched on his face. In an instant, he cast a Stun Bolt toward Lucus. The world blurred around Lucus as he instinctively tried to evade the spell, but it struck true. Pain shot through him like lightning, and his vision faded to black.
Level 1 Lightning Spell: Stun Bolt Description: A basic lightning spell that temporarily stuns a target. Effect: The spell releases a quick bolt of electricity that disrupts the target''s motor functions, causing them to become momentarily incapacitated. Mana Cost: 50 mana
"I don¡¯t want this boy to suffer," Thoren murmured, his voice distant as Lucus lost consciousness. A moment of silence stretched between the three as Thoren continued, "Little brother, you were one of the few I loved in this family. For the last time, out of that love, I told the clan leader you may be dead." "But now you¡¯ve resurfaced in Almera, a stain on the Magenthore family," he said, his voice filled with resignation. Silas managed a faint smile. "Thanks for your love, brother. If you must kill me, know that I will never hate you. I¡¯ve committed heinous acts, and for that, I deserve to die." Marona interjected, her voice trembling. "But Silas, you had a plan, right?" Silas chuckled softly, though the sound was tinged with sorrow. "Do you think any plan will work in front of the throne?" With a heavy heart, he turned to Thoren. "Before you kill me, do one thing: let Lucus go. Don¡¯t pull him into my past transgressions." Thoren nodded solemnly, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. "Sure, brother." As he stepped closer, Thoren enveloped Silas in a tight embrace. Sadness lingered in their eyes, unspoken words binding them together in that fleeting moment¡ªa bond forged through pain, love, and an impending farewell. Thoren nodded solemnly, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. "Sure, brother." Silas approached to unconscious Lucus, his face a mix of kindness and sadness. Gently brushing Lucus¡¯s cheek, he whispered, "I did my best for you, Lucus. I wish we had more time together. I hope you achieve all the dreams I''ve had for you. Farewell, my child." Tears streamed down his face as he pressed a kiss to Lucus¡¯s forehead. Standing tall, Silas turned to Thoren. "I¡¯m ready, brother." Marona felt an urge to intervene, but deep down, she knew Thoren was merely following orders. Silas looked at her, his expression earnest. "Take care of him, Marona. Help him overcome this trauma." With a heavy heart, Marona nodded, sadness etched across her features. As Silas approached Thoren, he drew closer until Thoren enveloped him in a tight embrace. Sadness lingered in their eyes, unspoken words binding them together in that fleeting moment¡ªa bond forged through pain, love, and an impending farewell. "Goodbye, brother," Thoren whispered, his voice thick with emotion. In an instant, Thoren conjured a lightning knife and pierced Silas¡¯s heart with swift precision, ensuring that his brother would not suffer. Silas faltered, clutching his heart, his gaze lingering on Lucus as his life slipped away. Soon, he took his last breath. From a distance, Meluis observed the scene unfold. He knew he could not defeat Thoren, yet he was determined to fight until his last breath. With a severe gash on his leg, he stumbled forward, sword in hand, his vision blurring. As he reached the spot, he saw Silas dead and Lucus unconscious. Struggling for breath, he rasped, "You... will pay." But the words faded as he collapsed to the ground. Thoren, overwhelmed by sadness, turned to the half-dead Meluis. "If it were any other day, I would take great pleasure in killing you. But not today." He conjured a lightning spear, but before he could launch it, he noticed Meluis stop breathing. With respect, he murmured to himself, "At last, you found some honor, Meluis." Turning his attention back to Marona, Thoren said, "I will honor my brother¡¯s wishes and keep Lucus away from the Magenthore. The death of his grandpa will break the boy. Marona, tell this kid that I brutally killed his grandpa and his mentor" "But why?" Marona asked, confusion swirling in her mind. With a sad expression, Thoren replied, "At least revenge will give him a reason to live and strive." "I will collect my mana stones from the Death''s Hand. And remember, don¡¯t cross the line with the Magenthore again. Next time, I won¡¯t help you." Marona nodded, absorbing the weight of his words. Thoren cast one last glance at Silas¡¯s lifeless body before departing. Exhausted and overwhelmed, Marona surveyed the battlefield, realizing this was a day she would never forget. Among the chaos, she spotted the last aura swordsman standing, paralyzed by fear. She knew they needed to escape with Lucus and return later for Silas and Meluis¡¯s bodies. Worry gnawed at her as she thought about how Lucus would react upon learning of his grandpa and mentor''s deaths. 0030 Alone Against The World The world felt distant when Lucas awoke. His body was heavy, each breath laboured as if he¡¯d been broken and only barely reassembled. Pain radiated through every fibere of him, but nothing was more excruciating than the confusion in his mind. His vision wavered, colors blending, then slowly sharpened on Marona¡¯s face looming above him. Her expression was tight, eyes swollen with the weight of grief. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± she murmured. But her voice was hollow¡ªthere was no comfort in it. ¡°Three days, Lucas. You¡¯ve been out for three days.¡± He tried to sit up, but his muscles, still weak, screamed in protest. Memories were fragments¡ªchaos in Almera¡¯s labyrinth, Thoren¡¯s spell, a sharp flash of power, then darkness. He¡¯d been struck down, helpless. His mind screamed a single question. ¡°Where... are they?¡± His throat was raw, each word rasping like it was dragged over broken glass. He didn¡¯t need to specify. He meant Silas and Meluis¡ªhis family, his everything. Marona¡¯s silence shattered him. She sat beside him, her fingers trembling as they hovered near his hand, uncertain whether to touch him or to stay away. There was a slight quiver in her voice as she answered, her gaze not meeting his. ¡°Lucas...¡± She swallowed hard, forcing the words out despite their weight. ¡°They¡¯re gone. Thoren... Thoren killed them.¡± The world collapsed. The air thickened, suffocating him, and for a moment, everything blurred as if reality itself was unraveling. He stared at Marona, waiting for her to take the words back, to tell him it was a mistake. But she didn¡¯t. She couldn¡¯t. ¡°No...¡± Lucas¡¯s voice cracked, the denial weak on his lips. ¡°No, that¡¯s... they can¡¯t¡ª¡± His mind rejected it, a futile, desperate attempt to cling to hope. But Marona¡¯s expression remained resolute, her voice softer now. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Lucas. I tried... but Thoren... he¡ª¡± The rest of her words were drowned by the roar in Lucas¡¯s head. A scream clawed at his throat, but it never emerged. Instead, his fists clenched tight, his nails biting into his palms until warm blood pooled in his hands. His body convulsed with the force of grief, but no sound came out, just the endless pounding of guilt and fury in his chest. Silas, his grandfather¡ªthe man who had raised him with endless patience and love. Meluis, his mentor¡ªthe one who had believed in his potential when no one else did. Both gone. And he had failed them. He had been powerless, weak, unworthy of the trust they¡¯d placed in him. ¡°I should have stopped him.¡± His voice was barely audible, choked by the weight of his failure. ¡°I should have¡ª¡± ¡°Lucas, no.¡± Marona cut him off, her own voice trembling, but she pressed on. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have stopped him. None of us could. Thoren... he¡¯s too strong. This wasn¡¯t your fault.¡± But her words were meaningless. They didn¡¯t quell the storm raging within him. If anything, they fed it. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, humorless and cold. Too strong? That was the excuse. He hadn¡¯t been strong enough. Tears streamed down his face, unchecked. Not because he wanted them to. No, the grief was too overwhelming to be contained. His chest heaved with silent sobs, every breath a battle. But amidst the sorrow, something darker was festering. Something far more dangerous. Rage. It bubbled up from the deepest part of him, a raw, vicious thing, twisting his grief into hatred. Hatred for Thoren. Hatred for the Magenthore clan. And most of all, hatred for himself¡ªfor being so weak, so helpless. The fire inside him roared, fierce and consuming, threatening to burn everything in its path. ¡°I¡¯ll make him pay,¡± Lucas whispered, his voice trembling with unbridled fury. ¡°I¡¯ll make them all pay.¡± Marona¡¯s gaze shifted, her expression uneasy as she watched the transformation in him. The boy she had known was gone. What sat before her now was something... darker. The light in his eyes had extinguished, replaced by a cold, seething resolve. ¡°I swear,¡± Lucas continued, his words low but fierce, more of a vow than a promise, ¡°I¡¯ll never be weak again. I¡¯ll become so powerful that no one will ever take anything from me again.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! The last thread of humanity snapped, and Marona saw it clearly in his eyes. What had once been pain and sorrow was now a void, filled with only rage and the thirst for vengeance. Lucas¡¯s grief had consumed him, and what remained was a shadow of the person he once was, a creature shaped by loss, with darkness as his only companion. Lucas looked at Marona, his gaze sharp despite the lingering exhaustion in his body. ¡°I want to see them.¡± Marona hesitated, her brows furrowing with concern. ¡°Perhaps you should rest a little first. We can visit them later, when¡ª¡± ¡°No.¡± His voice was firm, unwavering. ¡°Now. I want to see them now.¡± Marona studied him for a moment, the intensity in his eyes silencing any further protest. Reluctantly, she nodded and guided him outside to the villa, where Silas and Meluis had been laid to rest. The sun was already low in the sky, casting a golden hue through the canopy of the ancient tree under which they were buried. It was the same place where Silas had once taught Lucas, where Meluis had sparred with him. Now, instead of life and laughter, there were two tombstones¡ªsilent, cold, final. Lucas approached them slowly, his chest tightening with every step. His eyes were teary, and his heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice. The weight of their loss hung over him like the shadow of the setting sun. The air was thick, heavy with grief, and the world seemed quieter, as if mourning alongside him. Marona stood a few paces back, watching him with worry etched across her face. She didn¡¯t know what to say, or if anything could even be said to ease the pain. Lucas knelt before the tombstones, the memories of Silas¡¯s warm smile and Meluis¡¯s encouraging words flooding his mind. His hands trembled as he placed them on the cool earth, the final resting place of the only family he had left. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he was a little boy again, standing in the shadow of giants he thought would never fall. ¡°You both... were the ones who loved me unconditionally,¡± he whispered internally, his mind filled with the ache of their absence. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure your dreams and hopes live on through me. I¡¯m so sorry...¡± Tears slid down his face, each one heavier than the last. ¡°I couldn¡¯t save you. I¡¯m weak... pathetic...¡± His fists clenched as the self-loathing gnawed at him. He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart for what it had taken from him. But he didn¡¯t. His grief was sharp, his anger sharper still. ¡°But I swear... I¡¯ll avenge you.¡± His internal vow was filled with a growing rage. ¡°Not now... but one day, I¡¯ll make the Magenthore clan wish they were never born. I¡¯ll burn everything they stand for to ashes.¡± The sun dipped below the horizon, and the golden light faded into the deepening twilight. Lucas remained at the gravesite, unmoving, his thoughts a whirlwind of sorrow and fury. The hours passed, the world around him shifting from day to night, yet he stayed, letting his emotions fester, harden, until there was nothing left but a cold, burning resolve. When at last he stood, it wasn¡¯t the same boy who had knelt before the graves. His grief had settled deep within him, but so had something darker¡ªan unrelenting determination. His eyes, once filled with tears, now held only fire. He had made a promise, and Lucas never broke his promises. He turned to Marona, who had been silently watching him. She had expected to see a broken boy, someone devastated and lost in his pain. But what stood before her now wasn¡¯t weak. It wasn¡¯t sad. What she saw in his eyes made her shiver¡ªa smouldering, quiet rage. A fury tempered by calculation. This was no longer the boy she had known. This was someone who had seen too much, who had lost everything, and now knew that no one would swoop in to save him. He would have to carve his own path, rise from the ashes of his grief, and claim the power he needed to make the world kneel before him. Lucas approached Marona, his eyes still reflecting the determination he had found at the gravesite. "You alright, kid?" Marona asked, her tone softer than usual. Lucas nodded. "Yeah." Marona hesitated for a moment, then said, "What do you plan to do now? If you want, you can work for me. I¡¯ll make sure you have a good life here." Lucas paused, considering her offer, but then replied firmly, "I want to go to Felmora Magic Academy. I need to learn more, get stronger." Marona raised an eyebrow, surprised. She had expected Lucas to seek immediate revenge against the Magenthore clan, but this was unexpected. "You know most kids who enter the academy are around ten, right? Only prodigies go early and they usually have powerful families backing them." "I¡¯m sure," Lucas said, his voice steady. Marona sighed, clearly worried. "Alright, but you¡¯ll have to wait a year. The next Magus apprentice selection in neighbouring kingdom Almeria is in twelve months. To even participate, you¡¯ll need approval from the Felmora Magic Branch here. And, well..." she hesitated, "there are complications with the royal family when it comes to that approval. But I can handle it." Lucas didn¡¯t like the idea of waiting a year, but he knew it couldn¡¯t be helped. After a moment of thought, he nodded. "Fine, I¡¯ll wait." Marona added, "And you¡¯ll need mana stones. Without any backing, that¡¯ll be hard to manage. I have a proposal¡ªhelp me stabilize my control over the black market this year, and I¡¯ll make sure you have what you need." Lucas narrowed his eyes, instantly wary. He knew nothing came without strings attached. "I¡¯ll help you," he said slowly, "but as an ally, not as a servant." Marona¡¯s eyes glinted with something like approval. She hadn¡¯t expected such a mature response. "Fair enough," she said with a slight smile. "Next week, there¡¯s a round table meeting with the other black market leaders. You¡¯ll come with me." Lucas knew he was stepping into dangerous territory. But he had no choice¡ªhe was all alone against the world now, and every move had to count.