《Bleak Midwinter》


 1: Fjellborg

    ~6,019 words


    ¡ª15 November 2023¡ª


    It has been a long and tiring journey.


    The road journey from Hammerfest of Troms og Finnmark¡ªNorthern Norway¡ªto Oslo, extending for about 1,520 kilometres, was much more mentally draining than one would have thought.


    Although being inside the house-like environment of the luxury RV, the continuous road travel had rendered the travellers with a sense of extreme torpor.


    In the centre of rumbling clouds and the subtle sound of pop music playing in the background, the two teens remained seated, looking outside the window.


    The rain formed a drapery on the windows, making the vision of the outside world blurry and indistinct, as if it were a watercolour painting left out in the rain.


    The blinking lights of traffic lights and cars, the neon sign of McDonald''s by the highway, and the glow of street lamps created a colourful mosaic against the backdrop of the approaching day.


    Although the time being 1 pm, it was pitch black, if not for the numerous light sources.


    "Arghhh¡ª" A bored groan cut through the constant pitter-patter of the rain drumming tactfully on the roof of the luxury RV. "Arrrrthurrrrr! When are we going to reach Fjellborg??"


    "In a while." Much in contrast, the voice that replied came out much more calm, although under the layer of composure was an equal¡ªif not more¡ªfrustration, barely restrained as he kept one ear at the music playing in the background and the other towards his friend. "We should be there in about 10 minutes."


    "You''ve been saying that for the last 5 hours!" The girl whined, extending her arms to the side and then letting her body freefall. Landing on the bed, her body submerged into the plush surface, making the boy sitting on it move up and down, subtly, in tandem.


    "Patience, Astrid. Patience." The boy¡ªArthur¡ªreassured once again.


    Astrid''s hand extended to the side and snatched the pillow to Arthur''s side. Snuggling her face into it, she let out a long, contented sigh, the soft fabric enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth, but the expected comfort never came over her.


    "Although I still don''t understand why road travel was necessary. We could''ve flown to Oslo. Much easier to reach Fjellborg that way." Arthur spoke, his finger tracing along the double-paned windows. The tip of his finger got wet as he drew a straight line into it.


    "Well," Astrid''s voice was muffled, her face still dug into the pillow, "you are an Olvasen. Although it doesn''t have much significance, it''s a family tradition of yours." As she looked up, the corner of her lips twitched into a barely perceptible simper. "Weird tradition to have if you ask me."


    "Hmm. A tradition tailored specifically for me." Arthur hummed. There was no visible change in expression still.


    "Make me some coffee." He spoke as the straight line he was forming on the fog laden window twisted before forming a rather convoluted diagram, visibly making no coherent sense. "No sugar."


    "Grrrr¡ª" She growled into her pillow before pushing the side of the bed. Propelling upwards with a sudden drift, she looked at Arthur before slipping into her slippers.


    The RV consisted of two small rooms with big enough beds to accommodate four people. Arthur was in the main bedroom, while the other one was adjacent to his own, with the door leading to Astrid''s room. A room within the room. Other than this, there was a makeshift living room with an L-shaped couch and a small TV in front. Adjacent to the living area, a smart and compact kitchenette awaited, complete with multiple cabinets neatly arranged to store utensils and provisions. It offered a convenient space for preparing meals and snacks while on the road.


    Walking over to the kitchenette, Astrid placed her hand on the handle of the cupboard as it opened with a subtle, whirring sound. Taking out a coffee grinder, she started beating the coffee beans.


    Once it was reduced to a fine state, she measured the ground coffee and placed it into the portafilter of an espresso machine. As the espresso machine was turned on and hot water ran through it, a refreshing aroma wafted throughout the RV.


    Taking out two cups, she filled them. Leaving one as it was, she grabbed the packed milk and poured it into one of the cups. The strong smell of the coffee was enough to make her grumpy mood go away. As a smile tugged at her lips, her body started to move in tandem with the song playing in the background.


    She swayed her hips as she began to dance to the beat. Her platinum blonde hair was tied in a single pigtail, long enough to reach her waist. Her bangs rested neatly on her forehead and a black pin with a butterfly at the end of it cinched around the side-ponytail.


    Throwing four cubes of sugar in the other cup, she mixed it hastily before picking the tray up and started to prance back to Arthur''s room.


    ''What''s even the point of this pretend peace¡­'' A thought crossed Arthur''s mind as Astrid noticed the disturbing jumble of words carved into the misty window by Arthur''s unsuspecting fingers, his mind somewhere else.


    Astrid placed the tray down beside his bed and coiled her finger around the handle of one of the cups. Picking it up, she walked to the edge of the bed and plopped on it. Throwing one foot over the other, she brought the cup up to her lips and blew into it.


    The steam rose, kissing her face and forming a moist layer over the tip of her nose. Arthur peeled his eyes away from the window and picked his own cup of coffee. The still surface of the coffee rippled as the RV took a sharp turn, distorting the image of Arthur''s extremely light grey eyes. His eyes flicked to the side. "We are almost there."


    "Mmm~" Disregarding the statement, she took another sip. The sudden turn made her tilt to the side, and the light grip on the handle weakened for only a small, fleeting moment. A few drops of coffee spilled, staining the white sheets underneath her. "Yikes!" She exclaimed, haphazardly looking around for something to clean or wipe it.


    "Told you we are almost there." Arthur spoke, blowing the smoke away before taking a single sip and standing up from his place. Looking at Astrid who was currently violently sweeping her handkerchief with both her hands, her single ponytail swaying back and forth, as she tried to wipe the sheet that was tainted by the cream coloured blotch. Arthur opened his mouth again. "Don''t worry about it too much."


    "UGHH!" Astrid groaned, baring her teeth. "You could''ve been a bit clear about it! How was I supposed to remember there was such a sharp turn¡­?!"


    Arthur raised his shoulders, shrugging them meekly. "Sucks to suck, I guess." He remarked, making Astrid''s face grow red in annoyance.


    "Ok, now you''re just being mean." She huffed, placing the cup down on the table present to the side.


    "Mean?" Arthur inquired in a confused way. "Did it feel that way?"


    "Sure did."


    "I see." As he said that, his hands travelled to his chest, his buttons quickly being undone. In the blink of an eye, his casual shirt came off, falling on the floor silently.


    Astrid sighed, before rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Don''t just suddenly undress in front of me." She reprimanded him, before kneeling and grabbing the departed garment. "You might fill this bashful young maiden''s head full of misunderstandings." She inexpressibly commented, her dull tone betraying her words.


    Arthur tilted his head. "I am the one being undressed here. It shouldn''t matter." He said, "Besides, it''s just a shirt. You are overreacting." His facial expression did not seem to change, although, under the layer of serious demeanour, a rather lighthearted emotion bubbled in his chest.


    Effectively throwing the previous shirt in a nearby laundry basket, Astrid turned her head away from Arthur, retrieving some fresh apparel from the local closet. "Yes yes, it''s all my fault, for not adhering to your non-existent social norms." She playfully retorted.


    Slewing the clean new buttoned shirt over his shoulder. "Your lack of tact is applaudable at this point." She stepped back and paused briefly looking into his amused eyes, before walking off. "You can change yourself."


    Her voice was sharp as she talked, reprimanding. From the corner of his eye, Arthur looked back, taking in the sight of Astrid hastening outside, carrying the laundry basket. Satisfied, his focus returned to his unequipped clothes, oblivious to the fact that if he had kept watching, his efforts would have been rewarded with the sight of her face a subtle fleeting shade redder.


    A mischievous expression appeared on Arthur''s face as he heard her enter her own room. Despite the fact she was obviously mad at him, he found the banter between him and her oddly endearing.


    However, the brief look of respite vanished from his face as he crouched down and looked outside the window. At the end of the long, ascending road, at the verge of a grand cliff, the sight of Fjellborg Castle finally came into view. The overcast clouds seemed to form a swirling vortex right above the longest tower.


    In the middle of the cloud, yellow sparks seemed to play hide-and-seek. Blankly staring at it, only one phrase came to his mind. The one he had been hearing for all this time. And it was fitting for the current moment. Ironically so.


    "In the Bleak Midwinter."


    ¡ª----------------------


    Coming to a standstill, the RV had stopped quite some distance away from the Fjellborg Castle.


    Inside the RV, Arthur was sitting on the stool that was placed in front of a mirror attached to the wall. Looking into it, he looked back at his reflection. With a pair of sharp grey eyes and an equally sharp nose, his entire face seemed to be sculpted by hand out of a stone. Even for his age, he had unusually sharp features.


    He was wearing a formal white shirt. The topmost button was undone. He was wearing a black vest over the shirt that was tight fitting, clinging to his body and accentuating it. To top it off, a charcoal coloured overcoat completed his ensemble.


    His ashy brown hair fell in rough bangs over his forehead and stopped just above his eyes. Casting one last look at his own appearance, he let out a sigh. ''My hair looks messy.'' He thought. ''Well, whatever.'' However, the thought vanished from his mind.


    "I am ready~" Astrid hopped in from her room. Arthur''s eyes flicked towards her for a moment, before returning back as he looked down. She was wearing a black A-line dress. It was quite simple. Extending down to below her knees, her feet were hidden underneath thick black leggings. She was wearing long boots that stopped at the middle of her calf.


    Despite the simplicity, it seemed to suit her perfectly. Her hair was done up in a bun completely, getting rid of the single side ponytail.


    "You changed your hairstyle." Arthur commented, not looking at her.


    Astrid glanced in his direction. "Well I can''t act freely in front of everyone, you know." She spoke, the playfulness in her voice dissipating with every passing moment. "I am your attendant, I''m not a part of this whole thing. It''s above me." A smile formed on her lips. "Not that I care about it, hehe!"


    Arthur shrugged. "If you say so. We should go now." As Arthur looked outside the window, he saw three helicopters parked beside the castle. "Including us, four of the ¡¸The Seven Syndicates¡¹ are already here."


    "Huh! Are we going to go?" Astrid looked flabbergasted.


    "Isn''t that the whole point of travelling all this way?"


    "No¡ª I mean, God, Arthur! Look at your hair!" She pointed her slim finger at him, looking at him with disbelief. "You can''t go out in the world looking like that. Geez."


    "It doesn''t really matte¡ª"


    "You bet it does. Sit down." Walking over to him, she pressed his shoulders, making him sit forcibly on the stool. Picking the brush on the table, she started to comb it out. The messy hair tangled into it, however, she kept brushing it evenly, disregarding any prospect of pulling his hair out.


    Creating a centre parting by combing his hair straight back from the forehead, she then used a fine-tooth comb to create a clean parting down the middle. Using her fingers she pushed the hair on each side of the parting slightly forward and outward, creating the "curtain" effect, framing Arthur''s face while maintaining a relaxed, natural look.


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


    Her sleek finger formed a hook around his chin, as she tried to make him look up. However, his head was locked in place. Placing his hand over her wrist, he pulled it away. "That''s¡­ enough." He spoke, making Astrid take a step back.


    "As you wish." She gave him a curt nod before moving out of the room and towards the door that led outside of the RV.


    As he felt her steps get meeker by the second, he stood up as well. "Here goes nothing."


    Once he stood up, he looked at himself in the mirror. Without a response from himself, he finally walked out of his room.


    ¡ª------------------------


    "Good afternoon, Sir Arthur." The man stationed at the exit door greeted Arthur, taking a subtle bow. As he stepped outside, the violent wind brushed against his face, making his hair fly back and his overcoat to flap on either side. "I apologise but the weather here in Oslo¡ª"


    "I am aware." Arthur dismissed, stepping outside. Astrid¡ªwho was standing beside Henry¡ªthe butler greeting Arthur¡ªstarted to follow Arthur closely behind, her footsteps falling in a perfect rhythm with him.


    "Err¡ª Arthur?" Keeping a composed face, Astrid called out to him from behind.


    Arthur suddenly stopped. "Speak now. We won''t have a chance to hold a conversation inside. At least not freely."


    "Well, I¡ªuhh." She stammered over her own words, tipping her head down as she nervously twiddled her thumbs together. Giving up, she sighed in frustration, before glancing back at his curious gaze. "It''s nothing important. Sorry."


    Arthur takes a moment to study her expression, long enough for her to raise an eyebrow and shift uncomfortably under his watchful eye, anxious about his extended silence.


    "Hmm. If you say so." Arthur replied, his shoulders lifting in a casual shrug. Then he reached out for Astrid''s hand, hesitatingly. A chill went down his spine as he felt her skin against his and almost recoiled from it, however, he maintained a practised layer of composure. "Feel free to speak your mind."


    A relieved smile formed on her lips, the two moles on the left side of her mouth curving upwards. "Thanks, I will, later."


    Nodding his head, the two of them finally started to make their way towards the castle. The castle was located at the edge of a cliff. The moderate sized waves of the North Sea below struck the rocks, and clouds rumbled overhead, creating an eerie atmosphere.


    As Arthur walked, Astrid took a bigger leap and walked side-by-side with him. The sight of towering walls made of weathered black stone greeted their eyes, rising ominously from amidst the canopy of trees that formed a makeshift forest around it..


    Since the Fjellborg Castle sat atop a jagged cliff, its silhouette loomed with a chilling cadence against the backdrop of the ever darkening sky.


    "It''s darker than usual¡­" Astrid commented, a looming premonition making a chill run down her spine. With her hands clasped behind her back, she took an inch closer to Arthur, a subtle form of dread overcoming her. "...I''ve never been this scared while coming here."


    "This is your second time." Arthur replied, looking straight ahead. Although the blank stare focused at nothing in particular. "Maybe you''re just under the weather."


    "No, no¡ª" She shook her head and hugged her own arms. "¡ªit somehow feels creepy."


    "Hmm." Arthur only hummed, stealing a glance at her as Astrid eyes darted anxiously in every conceivable direction.


    RRRROOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM


    Like the roots of a century old tree, the bolt of lightning diverged in every direction, brightening with every passing second before slowly flickering out of life, like a candle suddenly being whiffed out in a storm. The resonant thunder rumbled like the growl of a centuries old creature, making a tangible tremor rack everyone''s insides.


    Beyond the entrance gate, a cobblestone courtyard stretched before them, illuminated only by the pale glow of warm yellow bulbs attached to plastic covered wires that lined the branches of the trees that lined the boundary of the path.


    The courtyard was flanked by towering turrets, their pointed peaks disappearing into the night sky. Each turret was capped with a menacing gargoyle, their stone faces contorted in a state of eternal, never-ending agony.


    The air itself seemed heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay, and the sound of rustling leaves and distant howling winds only added to the eerie atmosphere.


    Before long both Arthur and Astrid had arrived in front of the castle''s body.


    The main entrance to the castle was a massive wooden door, reinforced with iron bands and adorned with ancient symbols of protection.


    Astrid took a slow step, making her fall behind him. The guard stationed at the entrance pushed the door open. As he saw the badge glimmer on Arthur''s longcoat''s collar, it stood in front of Arthur, giving out a strong salute. "We greet the Heir to Olvasen!"


    Astrid peeked at Arthur as he gave the same shallow nod at them. ''He must be fighting his urge to roll his eyes, hehe.''Giggling internally, she thought.


    As the heavy door was pushed, they were greeted by a blast of cold air and the musty smell of age-old secrets that the castle seemed to have been harbouring for centuries.


    As they walked in, an array of flickering torches illuminated the wide hall that was the first thing to greet the newcomers. Two spiralling stairs extended upwards from each corner of the main hall. The walls were lined with suits of armour and tapestries depicting scenes of battles and conquests.


    Conquests that had never occurred in recorded human history. Conquests that had something¡­ oddly an inhuman feeling about it.


    The main hall''s vaulted ceiling soared high above them. A long wooden table dominated the centre of the room, flanked by high-backed chairs adorned with beautiful carvings. At the far end of the hall, a massive stone fireplace crackled and roared, casting eerie shadows across the room.


    As Arthur took a step towards the side, the door that led to the basement, suddenly a hand extended and blocked Astrid''s path. Arthur looked back over his shoulder, his pale grey eyes flickering between its natural shade to an eerie, bone chilling shade of ghastly grey. "What''s the meaning of this, Albert?"


    The person in question was a tall man, around 7 inches taller than Arthur. His short black hair was combed neatly to the side. With a pair of slit eyes, he had a charming smile on his face as he blocked Astrid''s way. Despite the sudden chill in the air that made Albert''s lungs sting like hot needles being stabbed inside his breath, he maintained his sly smile. Meanwhile, Arthur kept an indifferent expression on his face.


    "Ahaha¡­I am sorry Lord Arthur¡ª"


    "Formalities are unneeded." Arthur cut him off as Albert removed his arm from in front of Astrid.


    "It has been my designated duty since time immemorial to be of service and be totally subservient to what remains of Adam''s children."


    Albert spoke with pride, however, the empty greys of Arthur made him shift uncomfortably.


    Coughing, Albert''s lizard-like slit, amethyst eyes looked down at Arthur. "It was a recent development so I think this matter has not been brought to your attention¡ª" he paused, letting Arthur turn around. "This time for the ¡¸The Seven Syndicates¡¹ Annual Meeting, anyone other than Family Heads and Heirs are to have their ¡¸Arcanum¡¹ sealed." Albert looked at Astrid from the corner of his eye, flashing his fang like canines. "For reasons that are to be disclosed in the meeting." He explained, raising his wrist. A metallic band was strapped to it, pulsing as it restrained his arcanum.


    "Hmm." Arthur hummed. "Fine."


    "If you would please accompany me." Albert turned his head to her.


    Astrid looked at Arthur, who merely nodded. Gaining permission, she went away with Albert.


    "Oh, if it isn''t Arthur san!" A voice, soft as the light at dawn spoke.


    Arthur looked back. It was a petite girl around his age¡ª15-years-old¡ªwith twin black ponytails and a pair of gradient red eyes. She was wearing a long dress with a white high-neck sweater that was two sizes bigger than her actual one. The sleeves covered half of her palms, giving her a rather cherubic, yet cute look.


    ''Yuki Watanabe from Japan representing Asia.'' Arthur noted and then he looked to the side. There was another girl with rather brown-ish skin with dark blonde hair and almond shaped grey eyes. ''Maria Miranda from Brazil, South America..''


    "Ehhh, when did ya get here, eh?"


    Just behind them were three boys with rather wild auras around them.


    ''Finn Anderson representing Australia, Michael White from the USA and Dotun Olaniyan Ife of Nigeria, Africa.''


    As Arthur took in their features, he let out a deep breath.


    ''There were only three helicopters outside. From the looks of it there are already groups forming between the families. That would make sense given the approaching situations.'' He thought, the locks of hair that framed his face forming a shadow over his features. ''If that is so, it would put only us¡ªOlvasens at a disadvantage.''


    Arthur turned around, a barely perceptible, yet an unsettling¡ªuncanny even¡ªsmile forming on his face. The smile, although seemingly perfect and attractive, felt odd from a perceptive human''s perspective. Almost as if it was practised beforehand and not something that he actually meant.


    "I''m not sure if we had the pleasure of meeting before." He turned around to the first girl who called out to him, his dialogue and thoughts at conflict with each other.


    The girl in front of him gave him a deep bow, her ponytails moving in tandem. As she straightened her back, the corner of her eyes creased as she smiled back at him. "Oh, forgive me." She spoke, her voice unusually soft on the ears. "I am Watanabe Yuki. You can just call me Yuki!" She introduced herself in a rather excited way. "Since you were not present in the Annual Meeting of the ¡¸The Seven Syndicates¡¹ last time, you are bound to not recognise me."


    Arthur tilted his head. "The younger daughter, yes? You replaced your older sister, Yui Watanabe."


    "Ah, yes!" She exclaimed. "Her." Biting back a dark, humourless chuckle, she spoke. "She did talk about you back then. A lot."


    "So she lost the succession battle?"


    It was a rhetoric, posed in a way that made Yuki narrow her eyes at him. She tried to look him straight in the eye, probing for something. Anything at all. In the deepest corners of her mind, she wanted to know what was the effect of this information on him, however, despite the welcoming smile, all she saw was a harrowing emptiness.


    Nothing that could allow her to read him.


    Without waiting for an answer, Arthur spoke again. "Congratulations on being the Heir despite being the youngest. I suppose you are already aware of the decorum of the ¡¸Annual Meetings¡¹, yes?"


    "I am, thanks for asking." She bowed her head once again. However, her gradient red eyes remained glued to Arthur, following every micro-movement. "I hope you don''t mind."


    "Pardon?"


    "I mean, from the looks of it, you seemed close to Yui."


    Arthur shrugged, feeling a pair of eyes snap at him. "We knew each other, yes, but it doesn''t really bother me. If she lost, she lost. It would mean that is all what she amounted to. No hard feelings."


    Yuki chuckled. "You sound just like how I imagined you to be!"


    "Uhh, right. Good to know."


    The conversation died out. Although Yuki kept gawking at Arthur like a lost artefact in a museum.


    Arthur looked beside Yuki, at Maria. She was wearing a stylish yet comfortable long tunic consisting of a vibrant array of deep greens, rich blues and musty earthy tones. Paired with a knee length skirt, her attire seemed quite unbefitting for the harsh, frigid climate of Norway.


    "Hi."


    "Mhmm."


    An awkward silence ensued as Arthur stared down at Maria.


    "Oye, oye. Don''t ignore us!" A rather gruff, cruel voice spoke. It was as if a demon had crept up from the pits of hell, his voice carrying a screeching, discordant quality. It was Michael White. His long white hair was tied back in a small ponytail as two long locks framed the side of his face. His jaw was as sharp as the edge of a blade as he pulled his chin up and looked down at Arthur with a condescending expression. "It''s been a while, Arthur." He spoke, a vicious grin forming on his face. "I missed ya so much last year. I hope ya weren''t too scared to come."


    Just as Arthur''s lips parted to talk, a swirling black light materialised in the middle of the grand hall. As the grey wisps scattered everywhere, the figure flicked its longcoat to the side.


    It was Albert. However, this time he was dressed rather neatly. His slit-eyed amethyst gaze bored down on everyone and no one at the same time. Lightning cracked the sky into two, permeating through the glass windows as it further illuminated the eerie hall, putting a deep emphasis on Albert''s pale skin. His cherry-red lips fluttered open, revealing the same fang like canines. "The Lords have summoned the Heirs in the ¡¸Hollow Sanctum¡¹. It''s time for the prayer and then the meeting."


    Arthur''s eyes flicked towards Albert. "Where''s Astrid?"


    "Hah!" Michael let a patronising scoff out.


    Albert looked down. "She will not be attending. Guardians are not allowed. Not this time."


    An intangible tension pulsed through the air, like twigs crackling in a bonfire


    "Very well."


    ¡ª------------------------------------------


    Arthur Olvasen POV


    People are selfish.


    You learn this as you grow up.


    And as you grow up you realise there is nothing inherently wrong with it. It is an intrinsic human value. Something everyone is born with.


    Just like with any other thing, selfishness also varies in quality and quantity in every living being. But such a thing is often subject to such harsh scrutiny.


    To me, human selfishness isn''t something one should be ashamed of; it''s something to be embraced, a tool to be wielded with precision and skill.


    In a world driven by self-interest, those who are willing to put their own needs first are the ones who come out on top.


    It''s a dog-eat-dog world out there, and we''re not afraid to do whatever it takes to get what we want.


    I am sure Adam and Eve understood this. They understood that humanity would not be able to withstand the cruel union of the other races.


    Thousands of years ago, when Humans co-existed with other races, they flourished. And it was not just us, but everyone else also did as a by-product. Using the cunning of the human brain and the naturally occurring ¡¸Arcanum¡¹in the air, we were able to reach heights that even now this world is unable to achieve.


    Architectural marvels like the ¡¸Pyramids¡¹, ¡¸Gobleki Tepe¡¹and the ¡¸Stonehenge¡¹are one of the many living pieces of evidence of this.


    However, selfishness was what laid it all to ruin.


    Hundreds of thousand years ago, the mythical races such as Elves, Dwarves and the others reunited against the humans. Afraid of their¡ªour innovations and the ability to copulate in small intervals is what sparked the threat of extinction in them.


    Fearing humans as the dominant species, they used their superior ¡¸Arcane Arts¡¹ to drive humans to the brink of extinction. However, just as when humans were reduced to the last hundred, the four Gods that were all worshipped by the humans got together and divided the world into two equal parts.


    Stripping away the land now called Earth from ¡¸Eden¡¹.


    As the two worlds existed in the same plane without touching each other, it was hard for everyone to cross over without sustaining a heavy loss. And the only two that did were what we call the Progenitors of the human race¡ªAdam and Eve.


    Although since the world was stripped away by Gods themselves, there were many other Gods and Goddesses that were unhappy with it. So the price they paid was the next to no amount of ¡¸Arcanum¡¹ on Earth.


    And due to this low amount, as the human population started to flourish, 27 generations after Adam and Eve, when humans started to show distinctions in physical appearances¡ªonce again¡ªit was decided that the ¡¸Arcane Arts¡¹ would only be passed down by certain lineages.


    Quite strange if you think about it. All of humanity that is flourishing in this day and age is somehow related. Makes your blood curdle. Not because your partner is technically a VERY far away relative but because you might be sharing the same blood with a lot of other people who are much beneath you.


    Ew.


    Anyways.


    And while it seems that way, the real¡ªactual¡ªtruth behind this was that Adam and Eve''s magical potential was too great to pass to everyone. Part of the reason why Arcane Arts died out was because all Adam could teach to his off-springs was his own magic.


    And the ten types of his ¡¸Annihilation Type¡¹Arcane Arts were either too hard to learn, too rare to inherit or too powerful to sustain. As time went on, especially after 27 generations, specific lineages managed to inherit the last of his seven Arcane Arts using a ¡¸Blood Contract¡¹while losing the other powerful 3 types to history.


    The downside of this Blood Contract was that these families could no longer manifest an innate type of Arcane Art. They were stuck with one of Adam''s magic.


    Those certain lineages being today''s ¡¸¡¸The Seven Syndicates¡¹¡¹.


    The prophets, messengers of Gods¡­ everything. It was all either someone of the ¡¸¡¸Seven Syndicates¡¹¡¹ who decided to come out of the shadows and make a name in the world using their ¡¸Arcane Arts¡¹ or in some rare case, it was a normal human who could instinctively use ¡¸Arcanum.¡¹


    As the six heirs¡ªmyself included¡ªwalked down the spiralling stairs leading down to the basement, I felt the humidity press against my skin like a wet blanket. Despite the cold temperature outside, the narrow stairway felt like a furnace, like sweaty hands grabbing me by the neck and slowly taking my breath away.


    As I walked in the extreme back, I saw Maria''s silky blonde hair bob up and down with every powerful step she took down.


    There were only six of us present here. It was an odd occurrence. The ¡¸Annual Meetings¡¹ are unskippable. Unless there is an extreme case, missing out on it is never allowed.


    I could almost feel a dry lump settle at the back of my throat. And it was not just me. Leading in the forefront, I could see Michael wipe the beads of glistening sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The only one seemingly unperturbed by all of this was Dotun Olaniyan Ife, his thick braids looking like a pair of rattlesnakes, as if alive.


    As we arrived at the bottom of the staircase, all six of us bowed down and took a knee. The basement was many times bigger than the castle''s ground floor. Needless to say, it had double the amount of rooms as well. Rooms that only the Lords of each family were allowed access to.


    As soon as we reached down the stairs, the basement was a long rectangle, with an almost unlimited door lining flanking both our left and right for as far as the human eye could see. And right in front of us were four statues. The four patron Gods of humans that stripped Earth away from Eden.


    Guardian of the Secret Flame¡ªGoddess Hestia, The Oceanic Mother¡ªTethys, The Matron¡ªGoddess Demeter and The Undying Monarch¡ªGod Osiris. Right in front of their statues were our parents, the Lords and Ladies of the ¡¸¡¸The Seven Syndicates¡¹.¡¹


    As soon as they rose up from their prostrating forms, we did the same, mirroring the exact same actions they had. The air was suffocatingly humid. My father turned towards me, his emerald eyes gleaming behind the light brown curtain of his hair. His fingers snapped and for the first time since entering the premises of the basement, everyone of us heaved out a fresh breath.


    My father¡ªAksel Olvasen looked around as the other heads nodded to him. His eyes met mine for a fleeting second as he scrunched his nose.


    "I must apologise for the delay in today''s meeting." He spoke, his voice slow and steady, however the Arcanum imbued voice felt like an explosion going inside my ear. "And about the Arcanum restrictors placed on your guardians."


    Michael looked back at me and smirked, mouthing the word ''guardian'' with a roll of his eyes.


    Was that a provocation? If it was, he has failed. Miserably.


    But who''s going to tell him?


    Not me.


    "Putting that aside, let''s not waste any more time." He spoke as the tension started to supercharge in the air. "The most prized accolade of our Godfather¡ªAdam¡ªhas finally been found."


    A wave of disbelief washed over everyone.


    After the 27th generation, the humans at that time had decided to pass down Arcane Arts to only specific families. Because they were afraid of human nature. The human nature of instilling greed and jealousy in others. They were afraid of self-sabotage by the human race.


    To avoid that, all artefacts once owned by Adam and Eve that they either stole or salvaged from Eden during their departure were buried in different parts of the world. It was decided to never take it out again. For the sake of mankind.


    However, a hundred years ago, it all changed. It was the humans staunch belief for the four Gods that they separated this piece of land for us, exhausting their powers. And the seal that was placed on it stayed strong in tandem with the beliefs of people. That was why people from magic families posed as prophets to not let this belief die.


    However, with the continuous derailment from the ethics initially taught, the belief in those Gods is nothing more than a fairytale now. Around a hundred years ago, the seal that separated the two worlds started to loosen up.


    The reason why Astrid thought it was taking longer than usual was because Earth is slowly in the process of merging back with Eden. It''s subtle. So subtle that it''s only visible at a microscopic level. However, now that it has been exposed, it is quite plausible to hasten its process.


    We are still not aware of the magic capabilities of the inhabitants of Eden, especially when they had access to so much Arcanum for centuries.


    In retrospect the ratio of "Foul-borns" being able to utilise Arcanum has increased from 1-in-100 million to 1-in-1 million. Astrid being one of them.


    "Let the Annual Meeting begin!"


    The booming voice cut through the air and my thoughts alike as I took in a deep breath. This is going to feel like a long day.


    ----------------------------


    A/n Heya, author here. I will be making a character glossary in auxillary section so you don''t lose track of characters. So whenever in doubt, check up glossary. Although, keep in mind that the power descriptions and their characteristics would be in tandem with chapters. No spoilers. So don''t completely believe the glossary''s detailed description until the full book is done lol.

 2: The Ashfords.

    ¡ª7 July 2023¡ª


    ¡ª(4 months before the annual meeting)¡ª


    Israel. Southern Israel. Typically, the further south you get down in Israel, the less amount of people you encounter, as customarily, the majority of the population lives in the many cities in Central and Northern Israel.


    But today is a special day.


    Today marks the beginning of an expansive multi-national scientific archaeological mining expedition into the heart of the Negev Desert. As the convoy of assorted mining and transport vehicles snakes its way through the barren yet breathtaking landscape, a sense of palpable anticipation hangs thick in the air.


    Idle chatter and laughter intermingle with the rumble of engines, creating a cacophony of sound against the backdrop of the spacious terrain.


    As far as the eye can see, undulating dunes rise and fall, their golden hues shimmering in the relentless sun. The contours of the seas of sand are occasionally broken apart by the varying and random rocky hills and the rarer oases of water, that give life and sustenance to the local living fauna and flora, amidst the arid expanse.


    A lone coyote pauses, its curiosity piqued by the distant rumble of seemingly a thousand engines. With a wary glance, it scampers away, instinctively seeking refuge from the completely alien disturbance.


    At the forefront of the convoy, a black rugged 4x4 truck, coated in a deep blanket of dust collected by local winds, plows through the soft sand, leaving behind deep tracks in its rear.


    Following closely behind, a line of vehicles stretches out far into the distance. Other dust-coasted trucks, SUVs, and jeeps fill the majority of the convoy, their frames adorned with spare fuel cans and various equipment, to make both their journey and operation as comfortable as possible.


    In the centre of the convoy, lies the stomach. Several large semi-trucks carrying long lines of trailers carry the main logistics of the fleet. Filled to the brim with tents, water, food, and comforts. No detail has been overlooked in the preparations for this venture. Those few trucks house enough supplies for a caravan triple its size.


    At the tail end of the fleet, the heaviest vehicles make their presence known with a deep grumble. Large buses filled with people and vehicles specialising in carrying other smaller vehicles, the sort you''d find in large-scale excavation and mining sites.


    "-rew.''


    "-drew."


    "Andrew!" An impatient call awakens the glasses-wearing boy, he jolts forward in a cold sweat, and his eyes flutter violently awake as if he just woke from a terrible nightmare. He blinks, disoriented, before glancing over to the seat directly ahead of himself, scowling at the one that woke him from his hibernation.


    "Hey, you. You''re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, sa-"


    "If you utter one more line from that stupid game, I will delete all your save files," Andrew warns, cutting her off, his fatigue ever evident in his voice.


    She gasps in exaggerated shock. "You wouldn''t do that to your favorite sister! Right?"


    "You''re my only sister. Thus, you''re also my least favorite sister." he deadpans, his patience wearing thin.


    "You''re not supposed to say that, you''re supposed to say: ''I would never do that to my precious Sarah!''" Sarah deepens her voice in an attempt to mimic his voice.


    "You sound gay, I wanna go back to sleep." he yawns and stretches, and closes his eyes before slumping back into his seat.


    "That''s supposed to be you though! So you just called yourself ga-" One of Andrew''s eyes snapped open, shutting her up.


    An amused giggle escaped from Sarah''s mouth before she leaned her head against the bus''s unstabilized window, letting her head bounce rather violently but rhythmically against the pane, in sync with the bumpy path the vehicle was forced to take.


    The hum of the engine was soothing, and the random chatter of their colleagues filling the coach''s cabin served as an excellent white noise for one to fall asleep to; she perfectly understood why her brother felt as lethargic as he did, especially with how busy he''d been. Deep within herself, she felt the same sense of drowsiness as him.


    Seemingly having had enough of the constant minor concussions she was giving herself, her attention came back to her older brother. His long blonde hair, usually tied back, lay messily in front of his face, obscuring any hint of emotions resting on his features.


    "Do I have something on my face?" he murmured, half asleep already, but just aware enough to notice her stare.


    "Hair, a lot of it. You need a haircut, you look like a bum." She comments, sharing her thoughts.


    Andrew responds with a noncommittal hum, too exhausted to engage in further conversation. Content to bask in the tranquility of the moment.


    Sarah looks back out the window, in her reflection, her own blonde hair, cut just above her shoulders, greets herself. Her soft red eyes cast a harmonising gradient over the sea of golden sand, her mind drifting with the shifting sands. A ray of sunlight washes over her features, a parallel to the hope that began to settle into her eyes.


    "Andrew." she whispers, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.


    As if he was never exhausted in the first place, he sits up and leans forward, taking in her side profile as she continues to idly observe the passing by gold.


    "We''re almost there, we''ve almost found it haven''t we? Just a little bit more and we''ll finally uncover it all, right?" She pivots her head to face him once more, and an expectant look fills her face, demanding an answer.


    The older brother takes a moment to read his younger sibling''s expression. He already knows that she knows the answer to her own question. Dutifully upholding his role as an older brother, he finally answers.


    Andrew''s red eyes sharpen.


    "Yeah."


    ¡ª------------------------


    The entrance of the archaeological site was a fountain of activity. Amidst the flurry of action, the nearly-thousand-strong team all had their respective jobs to do, no matter how small or grand it was, everyone had a sense of purpose.


    Cargo was swiftly unloaded, temporary structures erected, and the air thrummed with the sound of hammering and construction. It was as if a vast swarm of bees had descended upon the site, each member diligently working to build a gargantuan monumental hive of productivity.


    Through the organized chaos, in the center of it all, a circle of individuals clad in high-visibility clothing and hats of assorted colors stood in solemn assembly. These were the leaders, the overseers of their respective domains¨Cconstruction, excavation, archaeology, science, security, resources, and lastly logistics.


    Though they had only just arrived at their destination, after many hours out in the sand, they wasted no time in convening, gathering to discuss the tasks that lay ahead. After the initial orders that they delegated to their teams, they all joined together, ready to consult the next steps.


    Among them stood a young figure who stood apart from the rest, his long blonde hair tied back in a loose knot, his crimson eyes alight with intent and resolve. His confident smile strengthened the charismatic aura the man radiated.


    As the discussions unfolded, all eyes turned to him, recognizing his unique position within the hierarchy. Despite his unconventional role and appearance, there was no doubt that he held a crucial place in the success of the expedition.


    "So, Mister Ashford, what''s the plan from here?" The man in bright blue, the scientist asked first, curious about their next main course of action.


    Andrew Ashford, the focal point of attention, took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. "Please, call me Andrew instead. Firstly¡­" Andrew picked up a small device seated on the table just beside him before presenting it to the group. "Does anyone recognize this type of gadget?"


    A brief silence fell over the assembly as everyone examined the device. Finally, the blue clad scientist spoke up. "That looks like a type of electromagnetic force detector, an EMF device."


    "Partially correct, you''re completely right in the fact that this was an EMF device, but it''s been specifically modified and fine tuned to solely detect one particular frequency that the majority of conventional tech could not pick up." the young man answered with a smile.


    The woman wrapped in neon yellow, the construction manager, posed her question, her curiosity evident in her tone. "A particular frequency? What''s that boss?"


    Andrew''s smile widened, a flicker of excitement dancing in his eyes as he responded. "We don''t know! Which is the precise reason why we''re here. This mysterious frequency was only detected several months ago. The reason that it was just detected now is the real discrepancy, the true anomaly."


    Taking a moment to wet his parched throat with a sip of water, Andrew continued. "The cause for it to be such an anomaly is simply since this "frequency" if we can even call it that, has been present in our world this entire time. The reason why our equipment failed to pick it up until recently? It simply lacked the ''density'' to register. One moment it''s invisible, the next¡­voila! Like magic!"


    Swiveling his chair around to straddle it backward, Andrew rested his forearms on the backrest, his expression becoming more serious. "Whatever this thing is, it''s growing. That''s why we can discern it now. This brings us back to these handy new thingamabobs that come into play." He slides the tool to the middle of the table.


    "Since we''re capable of feeling this phenomenon, I told the boys back home to figure out how to pinpoint its source. Hence, the birth of these beauties¨C''FLDs.'' or ''Foreign Locator Devices.'' Best part? They''re cost-effective! Just be careful not to break ''em; we''ve got a limited supply." He cautioned.


    A contemplative silence hung in the air, each person digesting Andrew''s words before the security director, dressed in black and white, broke the stillness. "So, Andrew, you''re suggesting that these ''FLDs'' led us here and that this ''frequency'' originates here?"


    Andrew stroked his chin thoughtfully, picking his next words with care. "Yes and no. This ''frequency'' permeates everything¨Cair, ground, water, even me and you, it''s everywhere! It confused me and the boys back home a lot! But here''s the kicker!


    Andrew slams his hand down on the center of the table, his tone brimming with intensity. "Excuse my crude language, but right here? There''s an absolute fucking shit tonne. Here, compared to anywhere else in the world is like comparing a single raindrop, to the entire goddamn Pacific Ocean! It''s as if it''s saying ''Come here! Come here!'' So we fucking did!"


    The tent buzzed with a mix of astonishment and intrigue, but Andrew pressed on, undeterred. "Our mission, plain and simple, is to uncover the truth behind this enigma. Once we unravel that, we can chart our next steps. Any questions thus far?" He inquired, scanning the faces around the table.


    With no objections or further queries, Andrew cleared his throat, commanding attention. "Let''s focus on getting operations up and running. Once we''re set, we can delve into the mystery at hand. Agreed?"


    "Sounds good."


    "You got it, boss."


    "Aye."


    With a nod of satisfaction, Andrew dismissed the group, each member dispersing from the tent, to attend to their respective duties. As they left, a taste of unity lingered, their collaboration a testament to their symbiotic relationship, bound by their joint cooperation.


    Now, by his lonesome, Andrew decided that the next best thing for him was to tackle all that recent paperwork he''s been avoiding. With a resigned sigh, he reached out to lift the several mountainous stacks of texts out from the nearby drawer, he looked upon this endeavor with a strained smile. God forbid, he wishes he could just lay down and take a nap, but duty calls! Or so he told himself.


    Skimming through the first few pages, Andrew''s initial impressions were unremarkable. The pages were filled with lengthy requests for his signature and approval, All ostensibly for the betterment of his family and conglomerate. Of course, Andrew knew better than to blindly sign away his authority. He skimmed the opening lines of each document, a practiced eye discerning whether they aligned with his objectives or posed potential risks. It was a tedious process, but one that he approached with the rehearsed diligence of a seasoned leader.


    With each passing document, Andrew''s hidden weariness grew, but he remained steadfast in his scrutiny. Occasionally, he would come across a clause that raised an eyebrow¨Ca subtle alteration in wording, a hidden implication¨Cbut nothing that couldn''t be addressed with either a quick annotation or a decisive crumple, he addressed any discrepancies, forging ahead with machine-like proficiency. Despite the monotony of the task, Andrew found a sense of familiarity through it all. A feeling that he longed for.


    Amidst the sea of forms, a particular phrase caught Andrew''s eye as he skimmed through the near hundredth document: ''Dear Logan Ashford, I hope this message finds you well. I am reaching out to kindly¡­'' Simultaneously, Andrew felt something slip from his grasp¨Ca trail of blood, evidence of the unnoticed strain in his grip. With a detached indifference, he observed his self-inflicted injury, the pain registering only as a distant sensation. A stark reminder of the burden he placed on himself.


    With a resigned exhale Andrew rose from his seat, pushing his chair back in place with a weary hand. He made his way to the first aid box affixed to the wall, his steps heavy with fatigue. There, he tended to his wound, a small but tangible reminder of who he truly was.


    As he attended to his injury, the entrance to the tent swung open, but Andrew, initially ready to resume his facade as the energetic leader, chose not to. He recognized the soft steps approaching him, a familiar presence he didn''t need to turn around to identify. Petite arms wrapped gently around his back, allowing him to relax, allowing him to be himself again.


    "Sarah¡­" He murmured quietly, his voice deep and resonant, yet tinged with sincerity. The arms wrapped around his waist only squeezed tighter, offering comfort in their embrace. His head hung low, resigned.


    "Idiot." her voice whispered softly, yet with a power that belied her small frame. Sarah had entered the tent intending to playfully mess around and tease her older brother, but the unmistakable scent of blood caught her attention. A quick glance at his desk revealed all she had to know.


    She pressed her face into his back, seeking solace in his presence. "You''re not alone here. Don''t forget that I''m here. Please don''t forget that." she pleaded, her voice momentarily cracking with distress.


    His bandaged hand snaked his way up to his waist, grasping her hand with his own. Despite the stinging pain from his hand, he didn''t care. She was here now, and that was more important to him, more than anything else in the world. He thought to himself, accepting that delusion.


    "I''m sorry." he replied. His grasp on her became more worn by the second, her hand becoming slightly moist from the blood seeping through his bandage.


    "I know you miss him, feel guilty about him, feel as if you need to do something about him. I do as well, but¡­" you don''t have to become him. That is what she wanted to say, but she couldn''t bring herself to say that to him. This was his revenge after all. His self-imposed quest, A pilgrimage he concluded that he had to do.


    The Ashford family had once been larger. After all, there was another brother, the eldest. A terrible victim of a disaster.


    Logan Ashford.


    The head of the Ashford family and conglomerate died in a horrific fire accident. He perished in the violent torrent of flames that had imprisoned him.


    That''s what the public and media had been told. But for Andrew, it was entirely different, after all, he was there.


    He saw what happened. He knew what happened. Logan Ashford''s death wasn''t an accident.


    The truth was far darker. Andrew Ashford had to witness Logan Ashford''s murder twelve years ago.


    It was a moonlit night when the unthinkable occurred.


    Logan, Andrew''s elder brother, had been engrossed in the same paperwork that Andrew now faced, diligently working through the unfathomable piles at a pace that bordered on the supernatural. His long blonde hair was tied back in a loose knot, and his red crimson eyes behind a pair of round spectacles scanned the papers with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality.


    Andrew paid little attention to his brother''s focused demeanor, the seven-year-old boy was content to simply bask in his presence. He whiled away the time playing on a portable game console, likely borrowed (or ''borrowed'') from his younger sister''s belongings earlier that day.


    It was a little odd however, Andrew noticed that his game would shut off randomly, then turn back on a moment later, like an unknown force was tampering with his electronic. Regardless, it frustrated the young child.


    In a sudden shift, Andrew noticed the usual lighthearted smile on Logan''s face fade, replaced by a grave seriousness that sent a chill down his spine. It was as if a switch had been flipped within his brother, triggering an innate transformation.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Andrew. Hide in the closet." Logan ordered, his voice flat and devoid of its usual warmth.


    Confusion gripped Andrew as he hesitated, his typically quiet demeanor shattered by the abrupt change in his brother''s tone. "Logan? What''s going on?"


    "Move! Now!" Logan urged, cutting off his younger sibling, his tone leaving no room for argument. Startled by the forcefulness of his brother''s words, Andrew obeyed, retreating to the safety of the closet and burying himself amidst the clothes within.


    An uncomfortable tense silence enveloped the room, which was momentarily broken apart by a pair of loud ominous footsteps that echoed throughout the halls from outside of Logan''s office. The disturbance halted right outside of the double doors before.


    BOOOOOOOM


    The two doors fly off their hinges as if they were propelled by an unseen force, revealing two individuals completely cloaked in black, one tall, one short.


    The only part of them visible was their eyes, eyes that were gleaming with a predatory intensity, radiating a palpable aura of bloodlust that sent shivers down the youngest one''s spine. It took all of Andrew''s willpower to not make a squeak, their entrance had completely startled him, like a rabbit becoming aware of an eagle that is about to swoop down on it.


    Frozen with fear, Andrew watched in terror as the confrontation unfolded before him. Logan remained seated at his desk, an island of calm amidst the storm, his chin resting on his clasped hands, gazing unwaveringly as he faced his uninvited guests.


    "Hello, old friend. I''m sure you know why we''re here." The smaller of the two wearing black spoke, her voice laced with an unsettling mix of affection and menace.


    "Today''s the day, huh? Well, no matter. Do whatever you need to do." with a sigh, Logan appeared to submit to this fate of his.


    Andrew struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation, his mind racing as he grappled with the realization that his brother was in mortal danger. He wanted to intervene, to scream out in protest, but fear held him captive, rendering him powerless to act.


    "You don''t wish to fight back? You''re strong, quite scarily so." The woman in black curiously asked, her head tilting while folding her arms.


    Logan''s smile was tinged with sadness as he replied. "How could I fight the one that I love? Even then, it''s a futile effort, you''d kick my ass back then, and still would today," he replies as a matter of factly.


    Loves? Andrew thought, confusion further taking a deeper hold of his mind.


    The women''s eyes soften. "Logan¡­ please. You can come back, we don''t have to do this." the woman implored, her voice betraying a hint of desperation.


    "You know I can''t Freya. I have them now. I love them." he responded softly, a bittersweet smile creasing his face.


    There was a moment of tense silence before Freya drew her holstered pistol and aimed at Logan. His expression remained serene, even as the tear that glistened in Freya''s eye contradicted her calm facade.


    "I lov-"


    BANG


    The gunshot reverberated through the room, cutting off Logan''s words as the bullet found its way to his heart. Extinguishing his life in an instant.


    Andrew couldn''t stifle a gasp as he recoiled, his head connecting with the closet door with a loud thud. The taller figure in black, alerted by the noise, flung the closet door open, his own sidearm trained on the small figure that tumbled out before him.


    "Cease!" Freya commanded her subordinate who froze momentarily.


    The three stood in limbo for a moment, before the intruder in black broke the quiet.


    "My lady¡­ our orders were to kill the deserter and any other witnesses."


    "We will. But it''ll be an accident. Use your ¡¸Arcanum¡¹, burn the building, burn it all." she instructed.


    "As you command." the other intruder adhered. Turning around to the other side of the room, he began to unintelligibly chant to himself, before a large white flame spewed out all over the side of the office, quickly spreading to other parts of the whole complex.


    With the subordinates back turned, Andrew watches as Freya silently approaches her accomplice, Andrew blinks for barely a second, and what meets his sight nearly causes him to pass out from shock and disgust: He sees the man wrung out like a towel, blood seeping out of his eyes, before suddenly¡­


    POP


    The man wearing black, who regarded Freya as his master, had his eyes shoot out from its sockets like a cork in a champagne bottle, splattering against the wall, before sliding down it, in a goopy bloody white mess.


    Andrew, who already has fallen under a half-unconscious state, barely registers the fact that his brother''s killer had just also murdered her colleague in an extensively brutal matter. One thought, one word, continued to echo in the boy''s mind, however: ¡¸Arcanum¡¹In a sense of sudden sobriety, he knew THAT was the reason for these supernatural happenings.


    The supernatural woman''s figure turns around to face the young boy, before walking towards him and crouching in front of the new head of the Ashford.


    "Why¡­?" Andrew could barely choke out, his visage too busy stifling with fear and tears.


    Her light, extremely pale grey eyes had remained dull, completely void of any human life, She couldn''t meet the boy''s eyes with her own.


    "Figure it out." These were the last three ambiguous words that Andrew comprehended before everything around him faded to black. When his eyes opened again, he found himself on a hill overlooking the burning of their family estate to cinders. His five-year-old sister, Sarah lay to his right, asleep, completely unharmed, something he is entirely thankful for.


    Clasped in his left hand, was something familiar, very familiar.


    A pair of round glasses.


    ¡ª------------------------


    Andrew Ashford POV


    Ugh¡­ my head. It''s throbbing.


    I keep consistently having that same nightmare over and over again, a relentless loop of the same tormenting visions.


    Soft¡­


    My head is lying on something soft. I thought we wouldn''t be getting any beds anytime soon.


    My eyes slowly flutter open, discerning my surroundings, I meet a pair of bright red eyes that mirror my own, staring down at me.


    "Hey, you. You''re finally awake. Yo-"


    I react instinctively, pivoting my head, and sinking my teeth into her thigh with a viscous chomp.


    "OWOWOWOWOWOWOW! Okay! Okay!" Sarah cries out in pain, tapping out, slapping her hand repeatedly against the floor.


    Sitting up, I scootch across the floor, closer to her, our shoulders touching as we sit side by side.


    In the corner of my eye, I can see her turn her head to face me.


    For a moment she just watches me.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "What do you want?" I ask, already sensing her mischievous intentions.


    "Can I?"


    "Can you what?"


    "Can I?"


    "You gonna tell me?"


    She puts her finger to her chin, pondering the question.


    "Nope! Teehee?!" Sarah''s mischievous grin widens as she clasps her hands together in a mock prayer, tilting her head to one side "So, can I?"


    A sigh escapes my lips. I relent. "You can."


    An evil grin appears on her face, as she winds up her ultimate move, her planet-crushing, universe-slamming blow. After swinging her fist around in the air like a windmill for long enough, she lands her punch against my arm, delivering devastating results to my entire being. So she probably imagined.


    "Ow."


    She sports a heavy frown, her eyes squinting at me, as she scrutinizes my reaction. "Did it actually hurt?"


    "...Yes."


    She punches me in the arm again. A lot harder. This time, it''d actually hurt.


    "...Ow."


    A proud smile appears on her face. "Now it did, excellent." She quips, her tone laced with arrogance.


    Sarah plopped her head against my shoulder but struggled to get comfortable with how messy my hair was. "Drew¡­ your hair."


    I should take her advice.


    "Sarah¡­ still got that pocket knife on you?" I ask, knowing that she has it on her.


    "Yeppers. Want it?" she replied.


    With a nod, I accept the knife and proceed to shape my hair into a ponytail. Using the blade, I silently slice through the base of the ponytail, effectively cutting the majority of my hair short.


    "So¡­? What do you want it for? Woah, WOAH! Andrew! The fuck?!" initially curious about my actions, she yells at me for what I just did.


    "What? You''ve been complaining about it this past week." I say, feigning innocence to her annoyance.


    "Well yeah! But now it''s gonna look like shit! You are going to come with me and we''re gonna get you a proper haircut! I made sure to bring along a hairdresser. I am NOT taking no for an answer!" Sarah commands, pulling me to my feet.


    "Okay. You brought a hairdresser along here?" I agree, amused by her enthusiasm.


    "Yes, bitch! I gotta make sure to look fabulous whenever!" She turns to me shocked, her mouth agape, processing my unusual compliance. "Wait! You''re allowing me to do this to you?! You''d usually say no, then just scowl before you fall asleep!"


    "I feel like it''s long overdue that I clean myself up." I admit.


    "Can I dress you up as well? Please tell me I can dress you as well." she eagerly asks me, her eyes wide with anticipation.


    "One thing at a time, sis." I answer.


    She gasps with excitement before bouncing on the spot like a puppy about to go for a walk. "That wasn''t a nooooooooooo~!"


    "I want that haircut. You coming?" I ask, already heading outside.


    "Mhm! Yep~! You gonna bring your glasses?" She inquires, half expecting me to change my mind.


    "Nah, I don''t feel like them right now." I reply, stepping out into the fresh air.


    "Ah! Okay! Dreeeeeeeeeeeeew~! Wait up!" Sarah calls out, running after me.


    It''s not like I ever needed them in the first place.


    ¡ª------------------------


    ¡ª14 July 2023¡ª


    The sun beat down mercilessly on the excavation site, its scorching rays reflected off the sand, creating a shimmering haze that enveloped the workers toiling under the Ashfield family''s employ. For a week straight, they had been tirelessly digging in search of something seemingly entirely elusive, following the directives of the FLDs that pointed them to potential areas of interest. Yet, each dig yielded nothing but more sand and the occasional interesting rock.


    But on one, very hot fateful afternoon¡­


    "Uhhhhhhhhhhh, hey! Hugo! Come check this out!" The gruff voice called out to his coworker a few dozen meters away.


    Hugo was known for his imposing physique and dedication to physical fitness, he was the ''big'' guy on the team. Hugo, accustomed to spending his downtime in the gym perfecting his muscles, and his bodybuilding poses, just barely squeezed into the tight cockpit of the excavator to investigate his colleague''s call.


    "Yeah? What''s up?" His voice, unusually soft for his size, spoke.


    "Um, well. My machine just stopped working." the operator confessed, his confusion evident as he gestured to his malfunctioning equipment. "Even the radio''s dead."


    Hugo checked his own radio, confirming the outage, before stepping out of the excavator and away from it to assess the situation. As he did, a strange realization dawned upon him¨Cthe radio crackled back to life the moment he left the immediate vicinity of that excavation site.


    ''Really odd'', he thought. I should probably tell the boss.


    Hugo wasted no time in reaching out to Andrew, his fingers dialing the private channel reserved for top management, a privilege granted to him as the Excavation Chief.


    "Hey, Andrew. Uhhhh, we got a weird thing going on here. Something''s messing with our electronics at a specific spot, turning it off. Once you leave the area, everything works, however." Hugo reported, his voice tinged with the same confusion as the operator before him.


    Silence greeted him from the other end of the line before Andrew''s voice burst through the static, infused with exuberant resonance. "Hugo you absolute HUNK!"


    Caught off guard by Andrew''s enthusiastic response, Hugo couldn''t help but chuckle nervously. "Uuuuh? Thanks? What shou-?"


    "HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGO!" Andrew''s voice, no longer confined to the radio, bombed from Hugo''s left, causing him to jump. He cast his mind back to where he last saw Andrew¨Cacross the vast expanse of the excavation site, engaged in menial administrative tasks. Yet, here he was, seemingly materializing out of thin air beside him.


    Andrew, now standing before Hugo, his breath labored from the unexpected sprint, leaned on his knees, a wide grin spreading across his face. "So, my best friend. Where''s my little EMP field?" Andrew''s inquiry dripped with anticipation, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of being one step closer to unraveling the mystery.


    Hugo, still trying to wrap his head around Andrew''s sudden appearance, struggled to find words. "I¡­I don''t know, Andrew. It''s just¡­. It''s just over there." He gestured towards the area where the electronic malfunctions occurred, a perplexed expression etched on his face.


    Andrew''s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with determination. "Well, let''s go take a look, shall we? Adventure awaits!" With that, he straightened up, marching forward with a spring in his step. "Ah, also bring some of the boys and some shovels and such." Andrew turned his head to his new favorite employee. "Let''s get digging!"


    ¡ª------------------------


    After hours of relentless digging, with the sun having surrendered to the moon''s gentle embrace, Andrew found himself unknowingly scooping out the last remnants of sand before the ground beneath them gave way. The sudden collapse dragged Andrew, his sister Sarah¨Cwho had coincidentally joined him at the most inconvenient moment¨Cand Andrew''s self-proclaimed best friend: Hugo, who had been engaged in a friendly ''Who Can Dig More Sand'' competition with Andrew.


    "Hey! You guys okay down there?!" One of the workers, still on the surface yelled out in concern.


    Andrew, the first to recover from the collapse that had enveloped them, shook grains from every crevice of his clothing and yelled back. "Yeah, yeah! We''re good! Get some ladders and ropes! We''ll be fine!"


    "Alright! Stay safe!" The voice faded, as the worker hurried off to fetch assistance.


    Andrew glanced at his two companions. "You guys good?"


    "Yep-cough-pers!" Sarah spoke out in between coughs, her voice muffled by the sand.


    Hugo, still prone on the floor, flashed a thumbs up. "Just fat and lazy boss, I''m good."


    Andrew extended a hand to help Hugo up, exerting considerable effort. "Jesus, you''re right." he muttered under his breath


    "What''s that boss?" Hugo inquired.


    "I need you to drop that diet and workout regime of yours because JE-SUS!" Andrew exclaimed.


    "Ehehe¡­ say boss¡­ you get a haircut?" Hugo asked, he said while patting his own bald head, his gesture drawing a smile from Andrew.


    As Hugo''s attempt to change the subject hung in the air, Andrew couldn''t help but crack a wry smile. "Yeah, I did. Sarah insisted." he replied, running a hand through his newly trimmed locks.


    Indeed, Andrew''s hair looked noticeably tidier compared to its previous long unkempt state. Thanks to Sarah''s persistence, he had undergone a transformation at the hands of a skilled hairdresser. His sides were now neatly cropped, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline, while his bangs grazed just above his eyebrows styled with a hint of texturing for added flair. At the back, his hair was expertly tapered, ending in a clean line just above the nape of his neck.


    In essence, Andrew sported a sleek and modern hairstyle¨Ca simple yet stylish two-block with a textured fringe.


    "I''d ask about yours¡­ since it had been a drastic change since I last saw you. Shaved bald? Head''s almost shiny, what''d make you do that?" Andrew asked Hugo in return.


    Hugo shrugged nonchalantly in response. "The ''roids." he explained simply. "It sorta just started falling off, so I thought I''d help it out and get rid of it all."


    Andrew had a stupefied expression on his face, before following quickly with a chuckle. "Ah¡­ I see. Well, it suits you, my friend, you look like The Rock!"


    With their lighthearted exchange concluded, the two men dust themselves off, soon joined by Sarah.


    "So, Drew. What''s the plan?" Sarah, flanking Andrew''s left shoulder, asked curiously.


    "The plan? Well¡­ I''m gonna go deeper." Andrew replied, glancing from one companion to the other. "You guys coming?"


    "Uuuh¡­"


    "Well¡­ I''m not going in alone, see?" Andrew produced a sleek pistol from a hidden holster in his jacket, expertly racking the slide with machined efficiency. His companions regarded him with raised eyebrows. "What? I''m an American."


    With casual steps, Andrew proceeded forward, unfazed by potential dangers. After all, his brand new Glock 29 Gen 5 chambered in 10MM allured the greatest amount of security a man could ask for.


    It didn''t take long for two pairs of footsteps to echo behind Andrew, Sarah and Hugo falling into a step behind, drawn by the allure of adventure and perhaps a touch of concern for their impulsive armed friend.


    ¡­


    As the three ventured deeper into the tomb, they were enveloped by a sense of awe and wonder at the grandeur of their surroundings. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient history, a blend of musty earth and the faint aroma of incense that had lingered for centuries.


    The walls of the tomb rose high above them, adorned with intricate and indistinguishable writing and elaborate diagrams. Languages from a bygone era? Andrew thought, studying the runes.


    Despite its age being potentially several millennia, the structure stood remarkably intact, a testament to the craftsmanship of its builders and the mysterious forces that had protected it from decay. The stone walls gleamed faintly in the dim moonlight, polished by centuries of wind and sand, their surfaces adorned with unfamiliar ornaments that sparkled like stars in the darkness, despite their dull appearances.


    "Hey Hugo, got your FLD on you?" Andrew asked his employee.


    Shuffling in his overall''s front pocket, he pulls it out, handing it over to Andrew. "Here you are boss, would it still work? With that EMP thing and whatnot?" Hugo complied, then queried.


    "Well¡­ the eggheads back home figured that within the line of work that the FLDs will go through, they might encounter a situation like this. So, they encased every single crevice, hole, gap, you name it, with some type of metal. Or something, shit I dunno. I''m just a rich guy." Andrew stated haphazardly with a scoff.


    With practiced ease, Andrew manipulated the buttons on the gadget, activating its functions with precision. The screen flickered to life, displaying a flurry of readings and data points that danced across its surface. As he adjusted the settings, filtering out extraneous signals and interference, a single blip remained on the screen, pulsing like a beacon in the darkness.


    "Arcanum¡­" Andrew murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the device.


    Hugo, observing Andrew''s focused demeanor, couldn''t help but feel a twinge of curiosity. "Boss? You good?" he inquired, his brow furrowing with concern.


    Andrew''s response was swift, his usual enthusiasm returning in full force. "Peachy! Right, now according to this device. It''s past this wall, to the right. Ready to make history fellas?" he declared, his voice brimming with excitement.


    "Let''s do this boss!""We''re right with you Drew~!""Excellent! Now, as a precaution. Hugh, take this back." Andrew states, flipping him back the FLD. "Right, stick a little bit behind me." Andrew commanded, his voice growing serious as he gripped his firearm tightly. Andrew led the way, his movements deliberate and measured as he approached the corner of the wall.


    Briefly putting his back against the wall, Andrew noted that just around the corner should be whatever his FLD detected. With a final thought to his dear brother, he rapidly turns the corner!


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "Andrew?" Sarah''s voice worriedly calls for him, from the safety of cover.


    ¡­


    "Andrew?!" Sarah called again, panic settling in her voice.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Not caring about her safety anymore, Sarah whipped herself around the corner, tears settling in the base of her eyes.


    "ANDREW?!"


    There, several dozen steps ahead, stood Andrew, his hand resting on a suit of plate armor that seemed to have materialized from the pages of a fantasy novel. The armor exuded an otherworldly aura, an unfamiliar energy that seemed to dimly glow the armor, almost as if it was calling her. Beckoning her over.


    But it scared her, that''s putting it lightly. It terrified her.


    It wasn''t the armor.


    Not even the supernatural energy that it was pulsating.


    But, him.


    That expression.


    It wasn''t something that belonged to her brother.


    It wasn''t something that belonged to Andrew Ashford, it didn''t even belong to Logan Ashford, the face her beloved brother had tried so hard to mimic.


    No, it was something so much more¡­


    ¡­pure.


    She felt a memory, from deep within her consciousness, be pulled to her forefront. She''d seen this once, and only once.


    This was the same expression that Andrew wore twelve years ago.


    The day after her oldest brother died.


    The day that Andrew comprehended the supernatural element that is Arcanum.


    It was¡­


    Pure hate.


    ¡ª------------------------


    *** Fjellborg Castle ***¡ª15 November 2023¡ª


    ¡ªPresent Day¡ª


    "Outrageous!"


    The sound of hands slamming like descending clubs on the wooden table echoed like the sound of a thrumming drum in a canyon.


    The echoing sound vacuumed everything, filling the ¡¸Hollow Sanctum¡¹with an eerie stillness.


    The sound of a huge wave crashing against the cliff that faced the North Sea drowned out the silence as the man slipped back into his seat, his face bright red. The man in question was Lawrence White, the current head of the "Whites."


    Possessing a pot belly that stripped the image of someone touted as one of the strongest humans on earth, Lawrence was a middle-aged man, bearing a striking resemblance to his son¡ªMichael White. However, his white hair was trimmed considerably shorter, styled into a side sweep with an excess of gel, making it look more like that of a porcupine''s quills than human hair. His eyes were round and huge, almost as if they were ready to pop out any second.


    His rather fat arm hammered down on the table viciously, making the wine inside the glasses in front of the adults ripple and violently judder to the sides. The redness on his face was still there, however, he took in a deep breath before settling back down, holding himself from stripping the whole place down.


    Though his emotions appeared genuine at a cursory glance, beneath the surface laid nothing but a rotting greed festering Lawrence''s psyche.


    Despite his fat appearance, Lawrence was a huge man, currently second tallest amongst the adults as he stood at around 193 cm.


    "Such an occurrence could have been averted had proper attention been paid in advance and appropriate measures been put in place. A stationed presence would have undoubtedly mitigated such a situation."


    The one talking this time was a short man. He was around 162 cm. His black hair was usually kept short on the sides and back, while the top was slightly longer and styled by neatly brushing it back. He had a sly, businessman-like smile on his face, his words measured, yet full of scorn as he pushed the blame onto Lawrence.


    "Don''t you dare pin those accusations on me, Hiroshi!" Lawrence''s voice boomed, causing Michael''s gaze to snap towards him. He scrunched his nose in frustration, turning away from his father with a low grumble. "You know damn well that''s a load of crap."


    "Israel, though situated geographically in the Middle East, maintains a subsidiary membership within the European Union." Another man interjected, his shoulder-length blonde hair contrasting sharply with his tanned complexion as he entered the conversation. Maria subtly adjusted her position, moving closer to Yuki.


    "However, it''s evident that Israel''s interests lie predominantly with the United States," he continued, his tone measured and diplomatic. "In this regard, the lion''s share of accountability inevitably rests upon your shoulders, Lawrence. After all, they are intricately entwined with your nation''s interests." His words were delivered with calculated precision, reinforcing Hiroshi''s statement with a subtle yet decisive force.


    As Arthur had guessed, they had already formed alliances. The scale of everything to come in the near future was quite big, after all.


    The one who talked was Rafael Miranda. Father to Maria Miranda and the representative from South America.


    "I''d reckon now isn''t the opportune moment for assigning blame. What''s paramount is the fact that we''ve allowed something profoundly precious to fall into the hands of those..." The man''s words halted momentarily, his expression contorting with visible disgust. "...foulborns. Our sole focus must be on reclaiming what rightfully belongs to us, fair dinkum."


    Blake Anderson interjected, his short luscious locks falling over his face roughly.


    Every head turned in Blake''s direction as he nodded his head with a big grin. "That''s right. That foulborn¡ªAndrew Ashford¡ªmight have found our Godfather¡ªAdam''s Battle Armour¡ªhowever, we will take it back." He spoke as a sinister chill ran across the room.


    "The long winter is coming." He spoke as a chill ran down everyone''s spine.


    "Eden¡­ is coming."


    "We are going to be one again. We have held this monopolised Arcanum knowledge to us due to its low ambient amount, but soon enough every foulborn would be able to use it." As he talked, he stood up, slamming his hands softly on to the table.


    "However, we¡ªAdam''s chosen, we will retrieve his last gift for us. We will stand at the top in the end!"


    A synchronised hum rumbled in everyone''s throat, agreeing with him.


    "In the Bleak Midwinter¡­" He paused, letting his words sink in. "...we will prevail."


    As everyone''s voice melded in with the synchronised cheer, Arthur''s hollow orbs met Akesel''s. Squinting his eyes, Aksel bobbed his head, as if asking him what was wrong. Staring deep into his father''s olive eyes, Arthur shook his head.


    ''Adam''s battle armour¡­ I do not have any knowledge about it.'' As he looked around, he found the other heirs equally confused, however, with their glasses filled with juice raised up regardless. ''...hmm.''


    A sigh escaped his lips as a decision formed in his mind.

 3: Lady Sif.

    Like a liquid simmering at the bottom of a cauldron, tension lingered in the air even as the Annual Meeting had concluded.


    The revelations that had cast a dark aura over Fjellborg Castle had dissipated to a slight extent, yet a subtle residue remained, swirling between the whispered conversations and uneasy glances exchanged between the new groups that had formed.


    Lawrence was standing beside Blake, talking with a crinkled nose and a huge, visible frown on his face. Meanwhile, Hiroshi and Rafeal were already heading toward their helicopter.


    Arthur stood outside, alone, his hands inside his pockets as he looked at everyone.


    ''They really did come together after all.'' Arthur thought, his pale grey eyes tracing along the beeline of the cliff against which the waves clobbered with a subdued ardour and then at the helipads where Yuki and Maria waited for their fathers to board their ride.


    Maria suddenly looked back, sensing a penetrating stare which caused her to glance back with a quick jerk of her head.


    However, upon catching sight of Arthur, her demeanour shifted subtly.


    Only a moment¡­ a fleeting moment of softness crossed her face, reflected in the gentle wave of her hand.


    The sight of her slightly illuminated skin under the murky dark sky of Oslo carried a hint of rosy red tint before she boarded the helicopter.


    Lawrence had already left with Blake and Kwame Olaniyan¡ªDotun Olaniyan''s father¡ªmoments ago.


    Arthur''s chest flared upwards as he heaved in a deep breath before reciprocating, waving back at Maria in a subtle, weak fashion.


    Maria''s lips flowered into a soft, warm smile, her fingers delicately grabbing the railing affixed to the door for a moment''s stability against the winds that made her clothes flutter like a battle flag.


    With an unconscious grace, she found herself rising onto her tiptoes, a subtle indication of something fluttering inside her ribcage. Her gaze lingered on him, his face, eyes, his sharp nose and thin lips and back into his eyes, a silent and desperate attempt¨C or rather a hope for one last conversation before she departed.


    She stayed for a while, probing to get anything other than that small wave from him, however, amidst the whirl of rotor blades and distant dark horizons, his blank stare was the only static thing.


    Like a heavy rock at the bottom of a shallow river. Unchanging. Unmoving.


    The smile all but disappeared as she faced back the man extending his hand to help her mount her carry.


    As Arthur saw her leave, he interlocked his fingers and stretched his arms to the back. The joints let out a creaking pop as he moaned, blinking his eyes a few times. The meeting had concluded with the decision that delegations would be made with the United Nations at first to retrieve Adam''s Battle Armour.


    However, if the delegations do not go as planned ¡ªsince the families are not willing to explain the exact origins of it or the reason why they don''t want it to go into public knowledge¡ªit was decided that the heirs will be dispatched.


    Normally the other siblings are dispatched if a situation like this arises, however the paramount importance of the current situation made them decide to do it.


    Amongst the Seven Syndicates, it was customary for the heirs to not engage in such matters. The heirs were USUALLY socially disconnected people until the age of 15.


    Homeschooled from the very start, the knowledge of the normal world is given to them using the best hired teachers and they are trained in magic either by the family acquaintances who have a long lineage of Arcane Arts as well.


    Just not at the same level as the Seven Syndicates.


    Once a person manifests the family inherent ¡¸Arcane Arts¡¹they are then trained by the parents. Arthur, however, always wasn''t the heir. Someone, long before him, held that spot. And it was not because he was overwhelmingly stronger than the previous heir that he now held the spot, it was because the person was excommunicated.


    However, the knowledge of that person has stayed a mystery. To an extent that the Seven Syndicates do not even know about the existence of that person.


    "Arthur."


    Lost in thought, Arthur looked to the side as he saw his father¡ªAksel Olvasen¡ªwalk towards him. His father was an inch shorter than Arthur, standing at around 178 cm. Trailing a few steps away from him was Astrid, her head hung low.


    Her eyes trailed along the long grass, her left hand holding her right wrist with a slight, supple force. Arthur''s eyes flicked from Aksel to Astrid, before looking over her shoulder to spot Albert who was smiling gently at him from a long distance away.


    "You are not going back to Hammerfest." Aksel spoke without stopping as he almost ran towards his car. Without looking back, he continued. "Your mother¡ªSif¡ªhas called for you."


    The words felt like a blow to the back of Arthur''s head. He could almost feel his features crack under an incomprehensible emotion. As Aksel opened the door, he looked back.


    ''He called her by her name. So it means she wants to talk about whatever happened today. But why me?''


    "Are you listening? Get the girl, and get inside." He urged, sounding extremely impatient.


    ''Why now? After all these years¡­''


    The question lingered into the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn''t quite scratch.


    "Arthur¡­" Astrid''s mellow voice brought him back into the real world. Looking back, he saw her smiling at him. "... we should hurry along." She prompted.


    "Something''s wrong."


    "Eh¡­? What?"


    "Something''s wrong. With you." Arthur repeated, holding her eyes. If she could, she wanted to look away. To not pile up the already huge mountain of thoughts and things that weighed down on Arthur''s shoulders like a wet blanket. However¡­


    ¡­it seemed futile. Ever since the day she was saved¡ªby him¡ªshe just could not muster up the strength to lie or hide from Arthur. Not when he was fixated on it.


    "It''s¡­ nothing, really. Nothing to worry about."


    Not taking his eyes away from her, Arthur''s fingers trailed along the sleeve of her long puffer jacket. Despite not being against her bare skin, she felt a jolt creep up her spine. Trailing down, he placed his hand over the sleeve, removing it from her right wrist, avoiding any direct skin contact.


    She almost let out a relieved sigh as the weight of his gaze finally lessened. Looking down, Arthur saw a small, deep crack like a fissure running across the lower end of the wrist. Turning it in his hands, he saw a small spherical insertion. Like a fang had dug deep into it and then roughly taken out from the other part.


    "Albert?"


    "No¡ªI mean, yes, but you know¡ª" she paused, collecting her thoughts. "You don''t have to think much about it¡­ they had to disrupt the flow of my Arcanum somehow, so it was this big device." Astrid spoke, a childlike glint in her eyes as she explained the size of the device used to render her incapable of using Arcanum. "And then Alebert closed the maw like thingy on my wrist and it made a huge hole!" She explained, widening her eyes.


    She''s suppressing her pain.


    Hesitatingly, Arthur''s thumb drew circles over the mark. "So a magical insulant was inserted into one of the paths leading to your magic circuits. Quite old school. I was expecting they''d make something more¡­" he paused, smacking his lips, trying to make her believe he was buying her act of not hurting her, "...innovative." He spoke as an intangible tremor permeated from Arthur''s thumb into her arm. A small intangible pulse. "It has a foreign isotope as well. You might need some treatment once we are back."


    Astrid shook her head, making the loose hair at the end of her bun flail here and there. "No, no. They¡ªAlbert gave me this!" She exclaimed, taking a small glass bottle out. "He said any kind of abnormality will be mitigated if I drink this."


    Taking the bottle from her hands, he looked down at it. The same intangible pulse that had permeated from Arthur a while ago flared to life once again and the metal cap on top of the bottle twisted at a blinding speed before shattering the bottle into shining, unseeable portions.


    "No need to rely on that bloodsucker''s medicine." Arthur spoke as Astrid looked down at the broken shards that were too difficult to see by the naked eye.


    Raising her hand, she slapped his shoulder. "You should be appreciative of others. Also, why won''t you trust him just because he isn''t human!?"


    "Arthur Olvasen! Take another damned second and I swear on Goddess Hestia''s name I will tell your mother you are unwilling to cooperate." Aksel bellowed, taking his head out of the car window. "Skynd Deg!"


    "It''s not because he''s not human," Arthur murmured, his grip on Astrid''s arm tightening almost imperceptibly as he pulled her closer, totally disregarding his father''s words. "Humans, hmm, they''re the vilest breed, more than anything that has ever existed." His voice took on an eerie edge, yet his eyes remained fixed on her with an intensity that bordered on unsettling. "But there''s one exception," he added, his tone softening just a fraction.


    As he pulled her beside him, a content sigh escaped Astrid''s lips. The violent winds tousled her platinum locks in his direction, mingling with light brown hair of his own as they were blown back by the raging tempest, mingling together and obscuring their vision of the world around them..


    "Are you trying to act cool or something?" She snickered in a low tone, disregarding the subtle rise in her pulse.


    "Probably."


    Arthur Olvasen POV


    Injustice, Justice¡ªJustice, Injustice.


    Quaint little notions.


    A common social construct, a mere figment of the human imagination, spun into existence to appease the feeble minds of simpletons seeking succour in a world that is seemingly in a specific "order."


    However, it''s a myth.


    A fairy tale for people of all ages. Whispered into the ears of the gullible masses from the day they are born to keep them in line, to maintain the illusion of control.


    To the common folk, they represent gallant pillars of righteousness, guiding principles upon which society stands.


    But to me, they are nothing but hollow concepts, devoid of any coherent or cohesive substance. As it should to anyone with a little bit of critical thinking.


    Even the world that these Foulborns, and us¡ªArcane Arts users¡ªlive in, it''s a stage built on piles upon piles of lies and treachery.


    Those who wield power, who claim to be the arbiters of righteousness¡ªThe Seven Syndicates¡ªus¡ªthey''re nothing but frightened little creatures hiding behind a facade of superiority.


    Prancing around, adorned in their self-righteousness, but deep down, they''re trembling with fear. Fear of losing the very power they so desperately cling to.


    ¡¸Arcanum.¡¹


    Funny how they cling to it like a drowning man clutching at straws.


    They parade their abilities like prized possessions, boasting of their superiority over the common folk, calling them Foulborns.


    But it''s all a sham. A charade to mask the insecurities that gnaw at their insides like a demon crawling its way up from the pits of hell, slowly nibbling away at the false ego they have built.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    They fear what would happen if the truth were to be unveiled, if the masses were to realise that they too possess the potential to wield such power.


    And so, they hoard their abilities, locking them away behind a fortress of lies and deceit.


    For centuries. Multiple millennia even.


    All the talks about the "betterment" of mankind, of progress and enlightenment, but it''s all just empty rhetoric. They¡ªwe¡­ I care only for myself. For our own selfish desires and ambitions.


    The foulborns are but pawns in our twisted game, expendable commodities to be used and discarded at a whim.


    Injustice is not some abstract concept floating in the ether¡ªour world.


    And justice... Well, it''s just a fairy tale told to children, a comforting lie to shield them from the harsh realities of the world.


    To me, justice is a fleeting illusion, a mirage in the desert of human folly. It is a tool wielded by the powerful to maintain their dominance over the weak, a facade behind which they hide their true intentions.


    Injustice, on the other hand, is simply the consequence of imbalance, the inevitable result of a world driven by greed, ambition, and self-interest.


    Those who suffer at the hands of injustice are merely casualties of a game they never had the privilege to play.


    Despite acknowledging this line of thinking¡­


    ¡­I loathe it. I loathe myself.


    I absolutely, from the bottom of my barely alive heart, abhor the mechanics of my own mind, the distorted prism through which I perceive people around me.


    An unending vortex of animosity¡ªhatred and disgust¡ªsimmers inside me, ceaseless and unrestrained, like the western winds.


    There is no comforting interlude from its clutches, no sanctuary from the all encompassing darkness of my own mind.


    Like a bottomless chasm, hatred is never enough.


    The only emotion I feel is of sheer hatred for everything associated with myself and a boundless intrigue towards new things.


    The sole emotion coursing through my veins is an intense loathing directed towards everything tethered to my existence, coupled with an insatiable curiosity towards the unknown.


    Love? Empathy?


    Such sentiments are foreign to me, alien concepts drifting through the vast expanse of my consciousness.


    If they ever resided within the organ that has tirelessly throbbed within my chest since my birth, they have long been interred beneath layers of indifference and detachment.


    Indifference and detachment, a result of the harsh truths and repercussions of forsaking one child and thrusting me into their stead.


    A mere surrogate. A replacement.


    Moulded in the silhouette of another deemed superior.


    I was merely another cog in the machine.


    It was- is unacceptable.


    The notion of someone exploiting my existence for their gain ignited an insatiable bloodlust within me, awakening a primal, feral aspect of my being that I had long suppressed.


    I loathed this part of myself, yet begrudgingly acknowledged its necessity. It was what helped me survive the time when I had to fill the void left by her.


    It''s like walking on a tightrope laden with shards of glass. Regardless of which direction I chose, I was bound to endure the wounds.


    "¡ªthur. Arthur? Arthur, are you okay?" A velvety touch pulled my face towards itself. Blinking away the grogginess from the plethora of thoughts and long travel from Oslo to Bergen, I opened my eyes.


    As the thin foggy veil was pulled away from my eyes, the first thing to come into focus was Astrid''s face, uncomfortably close to my own. I could see the few freckles underneath her eyes and the two, symmetrically placed moles on the right side of her lips.


    "I am." I replied, my voice creaking like a centuries old door. Perhaps it was a funny thing since Astrid giggled once she heard me talk.


    "We are here. Your father went inside. They are expecting you." She explained.


    "Your dress. It''s different." I noticed. The formal dress was all but gone, replaced by a much more informal attire, consisting of a cream coloured high-neck sweater and a white open jacket on top. The hair that was previously held up in a bun cascaded like a moonlit river down her shoulders.


    She casted one look down at herself, making the loose hair drape her face before looking up. "Yep! Your father stopped to refuel an hour ago. I tried to wake you up but you were too fast asleep. Since you didn''t wake up, I changed regardless. Inside the nearby mall." She replied, her eyes softening. Her hand extended slowly towards me.


    I could feel my body twitch. Recoiling back on a pure instinct. Astrid seemed to notice it and the hand stopped midway, before returning to her lap as she awkwardly fiddled with her fingers. "Are you really okay? You look pale¡­" She spoke, examining me up and down with a worried face.


    She was a sweet girl. She was. Is. Perhaps always will be.


    "Don''t worry about it too much." I replied, tilting a bit forward. Grabbing the hood attached to her jacket, I pulled it up until it was covering half of her face.


    "Argh¡ª! You¡ª Let go!" She squealed, throwing her hands around haphazardly. Removing the hood just enough so I could see her pale blue eyes, I spoke again.


    "Don''t worry, alright? At least not about me." I spoke before letting her go and closing the door after me. The chilly wind welcomed me, sending a shiver down my spine. Grabbing the collars of my long coat, I brought them together, shielding my chest against the frigid winds.


    The whirr of window rolling reached my ears as I started to walk.


    "Hey! Arthur! What did you mean by that!?" Astrid''s voice echoed behind me.


    Looking over my shoulder, I spoke, without stopping. "Get my bags out of the car."


    "BAGS? WHY?"


    She was practically screaming at this point.


    Stopping for a moment, I turned around. "I have a feeling we are about to be here for a while."


    ¡ª------------------------


    ¡ª15 November 2023¡ª


    Arthur Olvasen POV:


    Strolling along the pathway formed by crude, uneven textured stones, I walked just behind my father. His wide back shielded most of the view ahead as he sauntered about with his shoulders uptight and his back straight. There was an inkling of discomfort¡ªboth in his gait and myself¡ªas we walked closer and closer to our destination.


    "A word of advice." After many fleeting moments of the bustling wind roaring that made it impossible to hear anything other than the eerie murmurs of the western wind, my father¡ªAksel Olvasen¡ªspoke. "Behave well in front of your mother."


    "Lady Sif you mean." I retorted, walking behind him, maintaining a respectable distance.


    "She is your mother, Arthur." His tone seemed to be harsh. It was harsh. No doubt. But deep down, my father was a soft man. Someone who was unfit for being the family head. His timber mellowed out as he looked over his shoulder.


    My own feet came to a peaceful halt. "You are our child."


    "Those are merely titles." I replied, feeling the nip on my skin as the winds got frigid. "Just like any other ones. Sentimentality impedes progress and evolution." Every word that came out of my mouth felt like I was reading from an instruction manual. I could feel his face twist in a melancholic look, the public persona of a tough person melting away like a small ice cube in the palm of a hand. "Besides, she called for official purposes. I would recommend using the standard procedure."


    His lips moved, fluttering¡­ almost gasping, as if out of breath. And then he let out a deep breath, his chest heaving up and down before stabilising. "I¡ª Well, you see, I am¡ª hmm. Should we talk about it? You know, before you meet your moth¡ª Sif, I mean."


    "Talk about what?" I asked.


    "You know¡­" His voice trailed off and the reminiscing look in his eyes, filled with an ocean-deep regret made me realise what he was getting at.


    I shrugged nonchalantly. It was not that I did not care. However, any answer to that haunting memory itself, of her, that woman¡­ It was not pleasing. Not in a bad way. But I would prefer for it to stay undiscussed. Was it even a memory or just a conjuration of my own mind? A memory installed by my own mother?


    "Hmm, yeah¡ª fine, sure. Right." He awkwardly fidgeted. Communication was never a strong point of ours. As a matter of fact, it was a trait shared by us with most people around us. It''s just that the ego from being an ancient lineage alleviated it to an extent that communication for even the necessary things became non-existent. "Sif would be waiting for us."


    "After you."


    I spoke as he nodded his head, and started walking again.


    Towering pine trees lined either side of the stone pathway, their bare branches reaching upwards towards the sky like some kind of gnarly claws.


    The remnants of a recent downpour clung to the needles of the tree, creating a gentle pitter-patter as droplets fell onto the stone pavement beneath my feet.


    The scent of damp earth filled the air, mingling with the fresh aroma of pine.


    A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I turned my head towards the right.


    The main house stood tall and sturdy. The architecture was nothing short of amazing, housing generations of Olvasens for centuries.


    The wooden fa?ade was painted a rich, deep brown, blending seamlessly with the surroundings.


    However, instead of making our way towards the house, my father turned towards the left.


    As I turned after him, I stopped suddenly, feeling something run up to me.


    *Woof!*


    As I turned the corner, a flash of white caught my eye.


    My pace slowed as the Siberian Husky bounded towards me, its tail wagging furiously.


    A pang of¡­ something, perhaps annoyance, tugged at me, yet I tolerated its exuberance.


    Extending my hand to pat its head mechanically, I felt the soft fur beneath my fingers.


    The dog''s excitement was palpable, its eyes shining with adoration.


    Although the overly loving behaviour was an eyesore, I recognized its loyalty.


    It jumped up and down, its tail wagging so hard it seemed like it might take off, before settling at my feet, sitting between my legs as if seeking reassurance of my presence.


    "She seems to remember you just well." My father turned around and raised his brows.


    Letting out a sigh, I crouched down. Gently massaging the area around its face, I held the dog¡ªLuna''s¡ªface close to mine. "How have you been?" I asked, not expecting an answer. Of course it would be foolish to expect one. Even as the dog¡ªLuna¡ªlet out a grumbling bark, I just blankly felt its fur. "Wait for me here, ok?"


    Dogs were such interesting things. Even after leaving it alone for three years, it would seem like it''s still loyal to me. An extent which was nauseating. Humans were like this as well. They could be easily categorised into either dogs that needed to be put down or dogs that you needed to keep beside you. There was no middle line.


    "Stay." As I pointed my finger, the white-brown ball of fur settled down, placing its cherubic face on its paws. I sometimes wonder if she is even a Husky. The other one¡ª hmm, better not talk about it. It''s bound to ruin my mood.


    Passing by Luna, I made my way to the back of the house that opened up to reveal a sprawling lake, its crystal-clear waters shimmering in the artificial flood lights.


    Nestled along the edge of the lake was a small enclosure, constructed of translucent glass and wooden planks. This was the sauna.


    "You are on your own from here."


    "Surely you don''t expect me to find her here, right? A whole colony could be built in this place."


    "Use your eyes, dear son." He replied with a smirk. "I am sure you read it all."


    The urge to rip out his tongue bubbled like lava inside me. Biting back a dry grumble, I nodded.


    As he went away, I made my way towards the sauna, the sound of my footsteps echoing softly against the stone pathway.


    I placed my hand on the sauna''s exterior. It was still warm and the fog stuck to it on the inside. Recently used.


    Immediately, beside the sauna, my gaze fell on a beeline of colourful flowers.


    Each bloom was a vibrant burst of colour against the lush green backdrop.


    A woman stood amidst the flowers, a watering can in hand.


    Looking at the woman from the back, she looked just as fragile as the Viola Pedata¡ªa delicate flower¡ªthat she was watering. An extremely petite appearance from behind with thin shoulders and a small frame. The golden locks that spilled down her back felt as if pure gold had been melted down. Ethereal.


    There was someone who was said to have the same hair. Goddess Sif. A goddess whose origins were the same as this country. Northern Europe. A Scandinavian goddess. The thought never bothered me. But she could be related to us. After all, the "Gods"¡ªZeus and more¡ªthat existed after "Adam and Eve" were merely the ancestors of Seven Syndicates, flaunting their powers to the Foulborns.


    As I took a step forward, a voice cut through the air. As sharp as a blade.


    "Dear son of mine." The woman started. "Your footsteps feel heavy." The watering can in her hand slipped and dropped down on the pebbly ground below. She turned around, the long frock twirling. A familiar pair of pale grey eyes met my own. Her eyes narrowed at me, before widening like a full moon and then returned to normal. "You have grown so much, my little baby boy. In just three years!" She exclaimed.


    There was a glimmer, an unsettling glimmer in her eyes. Her soft hands cupped my face into her palms and raised them up. Her touch was warm. Yet it made a frigid tremble run down my spine. Standing at about 163 cm, she smiled. A smile that didn''t quite reach the hollow voids that were her eyes.


    "I did hit a growth spurt." I replied, casually. I could feel a tether. A tether of something intangible inside my mind. Like a soft thread stuck inside the squishy white matter of my brain.


    I pushed it back.


    Pushed back any thought of defiance or wariness and buried it. Buried it into the deepest pits of my subconsciousness, as if they had never existed. "You look just as beautiful as ever, Lady Sif." Her long nails dug subtly into my cheeks. "Mother."


    The words that came out of my own mouth felt like toxic thorns being forcefully rubbed against my tongue, dripping with an unhidden venom and mockery. And despite the obviousness, I could only see her smile more brightly at me. As if she expected love to be as convoluted and venomous as this.


    Once again, the endless voids flicked from my eyes to my nose, my lips and then down at me, before meeting my gaze, petrifying me. An intangible, smooth slither¡ªakin to the touch of a slim finger seemed to poke inside my brain itself.


    As soon as she removed her hands from my face, the meek interference of something probing my brain vanished in an instant, leaving behind nothing but a faint sense of bile pushing against the back of my throat. Biting back any discomfort, I straightened my back.


    "You have developed a silver tongue, my dear son." She spoke with glee. "I suppose this is what being with a girl does to you." Her voice dropped to a barely detectable murmur. "Even you." As she looked down, the wind blew her locks over her face. With a quick motion of her hand, she raised them up and used the small purple band on her wrist to tie them up. "So?"


    "So?"


    I reiterated after her, not entirely sure where she wants me to begin. I had left the house three years ago to live alone.


    It was after I was able to perform a ¡¸Phase 2¡¹ application of the Olvasens'' inherited ¡¸Arcane Arts. ¡¹ The only reason she allowed me¡ªthe heir¡ªto leave the main house was because she wanted to know about the outside world via me. Since she herself, for her own good, is not allowed outside the premises of this house. Mostly, since nothing can stop her from sneaking outside every now and then.


    The reason behind letting me out on my own was still shrouded behind a thick veil of precarious unknowns. It could be anything. Knowing her, it was entirely possible that even now I was inside the palm of her hand. However¡­


    "Let''s talk about your school first." Contrary to my tumultuous thoughts, she talked about something entirely different. "How is it?"


    "Heirs are homeschooled."


    "You are different." She replied, taking a big step towards the huge bed of flowers. She curled her index finger in and out a few times, motioning for me to follow her. "Besides, I gave you free will. As a direct order. I am sure you took quite some advantage of it."


    I stayed silent for a while. Taking in a whiff, I could smell the plethora of aromas¡ªprickly strong and mellowingly faint¡ªinvade my senses. The ambient Arcanum in place, this house¡ª no, this garden in particular was so, so rich. Almost intoxicating. I felt my senses spin in a round circle before consolidating onto a coherent path.


    "It''s good." I replied.


    "Semantics." She let out a laugh as her arm was extended to the side, feeling the petals of the flowers without looking back. "Oh Art, you know what I mean, don''t you?" She then suddenly looked back. "Or is it your father''s influence? But no, influence would be the wrong word." She pondered over something for a second. "Are you developing your father''s oversight of words?"


    "Am I?" Rhetorically, I touched after the same flowers as she did. "That would be unfortunate."


    "Haha~ It sure would be." She nodded her head. "So?"


    "I find it useless." I admitted, and for the first time I could see her eyes gain a subtle shine. "Most probably it is because of the knowledge I was able to gain at a young age. I wonder if it would stay the same if I was born as a norma¡ª"


    Her head snapped towards me. "Do not entertain yourself with such vile thoughts." Once again, I felt the meek tether into my mind. But this time, instead of probing for something, it felt as if someone was trying to pluck a part of me out. I pushed against it, however, the Arcanum seemed to refuse to obey me. A rare occurrence. Then, as if nothing had happened, the sensation subsided. "That was immature of me."


    "Not at all." I replied, clinging on to my suppressed thoughts like a drowning man catching at straws. Once I had them under my control. "I won''t be responsible for what happens if you were to slip up again."


    "Well." She let out a disappointed sigh. "It would seem like your viewpoint on things has changed quite a bit. Not for the best, might I add." She spoke, the words devoid of any real emotion that she tried to convey. "But well, you reap what you sow." She added. In her eyes, everything was a mere consequence of action. She was not the one to brood over consequences.


    "I suppose so."


    "Well, to the main topic." She tip-toed and twirled around before facing me. "As you would know your father is the head, but everything is controlled by me. The fact that the family head is not allowed to look over matters of this importance should be self-explanatory to you by now why I have called you."


    I raised my shoulder in a subtle shrug, not meaning to be disrespectful. "You hold me in a high regard, Lady Sif." I paused for a while, measuring every word. "Often superseding."


    "You have the right to flatter yourself, Arthur." She crouched down and her hands dug into the soft soil beneath. The tempestuous winds had almost uprooted a plant, making it bend and almost touch the ground. Carefully, avoiding the thorns, she supported it back up and pressed it down. The soil around it gave in, digging deep back into the soil. "You inherited the full extent of what this bloodline has to offer." She spoke, seemingly¡­ patting? the plant.


    "Full extent." I reiterated after her. Biting back an uncondescending scoff, I parted my lips to speak. "That is a crude metric to weigh an heir. She was far sup¡ª" The words seemed to hang still in the air, as if caught in a time halting phenomenon. The same instant I felt the metallic clang of something ripping apart before slashing at my cheek, just underneath my eyes.


    "You are not in Hammerfest, Arthur dear." She spoke, her voice a low rumble.


    The sensation of the blood trailing down my cheek before lining against my jawline and dripping down my chin was warm, the metallic tang of it infiltrating my nose. I stood there, silent, without a word. However, my own Arcanum was flaring and hovering near her, like a sword in an executioner''s hand, ready to be swung at a moment''s notice.


    Despite the force field around me becoming alive with a crackling intensity, popping like small crackers, I stood still, devoid of any thought of defiance, despite the Arcanum that swelled like an over-inflated balloon underneath the layer of composure.


    "Hahhh¡ª don''t make your mom work up so much." She sighed and the high level Arcanum in the air dissipated. She flicked her head back. "You never had another sibling other than your older brother. That is a memory you have instilled in your mind. It would be better if you could delete it by yourself." The hollow, grey voids never left my own. "For your own sake."


    "You initiated it." I spoke, walking closer. "Ask away. About whatever you called me here for. I have an exam in 2 days. Every second spent here is a loss."


    She frowned, her lips curving down. "Hearing you talk like this breaks my heart." She placed her hand on her chest. "Not really." She then scoffed, giggling to herself. "Anyways, all I have to ask is one thing."


    I steadied myself.


    "The Seven Syndicates. Do you think the other six are necessary?" She asked, the eyes that were devoid of any emotion suddenly flaring like a forest fire, a devilish, evil glint in them.


    I took a steady breath. "Ideally, no." I replied.


    She tilted her head. "Ideally, you say?"


    "Hmm. Ideally, in a way¡ªsense, that if the seal separating Earth and Eden was never weakening, removing the others would''ve been the correct course of action." I paused, letting the words sink in. "However, realistically, with Eden moving closer to the ¡¸Merger¡¹ we need all forces to maintain law and order. To avoid chaos. We need them."


    The same tether as before poked my mind. Searching for lies, any wrong intent. "You should embrace the chaos, my son. There is nothing wrong with it."


    "Because chaos is more organised than order itself?"


    "You have been learning, I see."


    A brief moment of silence¡ªeerily comforting¡ªensued.


    "Let''s go with the idealistic approach." A small smile tugged at her thin lips. "What if I order you to kill the heirs of the Seven Syndicates?"


    "I''d refuse, of course." I replied, almost mechanically. "It''s against the first commandment established by Goddess Hestia."


    "Commandments this, commandments that." She spat, her demeanour taking a sudden shift. The words seemed to be laced with venom. "Let me ask you again, Arthur." She hissed my name through clenched teeth this time. "Do you have the ability to kill the heirs?"


    "Except for Michael and Maria, I am quite confident."


    She regarded me for a moment, and then smiled again. Her show of expressions had left a jarring impression. Even before I had left home, she was always like this. The only person I can''t read. She did not have any personality. Like an object being forcefully moulded into each shape, she took the role of everything perfectly, yet with so many flaws.


    Nothing ever felt natural about her. As if she and her words were fleeting illusions.


    "Hehe! I was just kidding!" She tapped my shoulder. Her grip was ironclad. I could feel it sink into my skin and put a considerable pressure on my bones. "Although, you are not going anywhere."


    I felt my eyes burn, glowing in a brightened hue.


    "You and your little toy- Astrid, was her name? Well, whatever, you are staying here for the foreseeable future. Your long time of being away from home ends today." As she spoke, the smile never left her face. "Your room has been redecorated already. Tell your little¡­ attendant to help you settle in."


    This can''t be good. It would seem like I am in quite a lot of trouble. Quashing a hasty impulse, I nodded my head. As soon as I did, a light pierced my eyes, like being reflected off a mirror, blinding my vision. And then she was gone.


    Spectrum Illusion¡­

 4: What? Im American!

    ¡ª21 July 2023 (Few months ago)¡ª


    Andrew Ashford POV


    After the prompt discovery of the magical armor after several weeks of tireless excavation in the sandy expansive Negev desert, I spared no expense in ensuring a thorough scouring of every crevice and corner within that ancient temple. Delegating the task to others, I had other appointments that required my direct attention.


    Ironically, one such appointment was to arrange yet another appointment.


    The United Nations, the pinnacle of global diplomacy, stood as the largest and most influential international organization. Securing an audience with them was no small feat.


    With their large scale, came an equally vast and busy schedule. The recommended channels for contact included sending emails to designated company emails or waiting moments upon moments on a hectic hotline to maybe potentially reach a representative.


    But that''s tedious.


    Full of crap.


    Luckily, I''m a man with money. A lot of money.


    If accessing the international body as a whole proved fruitless, I figured that the next best idea was to dive deeper¨Ca more targeted approach. Thus, my search settled upon a discontented ambassador within the organization.


    Scott Brown. A seasoned US diplomat with decades of service under his belt. Despite looking through his wealth of experience, something stuck out to me. For all his extensive tenure, he lacked any truly noteworthy achievements¨Cmerely an extensive background.


    Conveniently, he had recently assumed the post of deputy ambassador to the UN.


    It seemed the perfect opportunity presented itself.


    Employing the services of a skilled individual from the depths of the dark web, specializing in acquiring sensitive information through ''legal'' means, I managed to procure a rather unexpected asset¨Ca phone number belonging to his ten-year-old son.


    What''s the use of a phone number if it isn''t used to call?


    After inputting the number into my own phone, it buzzed a few times before falling silent.


    "Hello?" A curious young voice rang from my phone.


    "Ah, hello! You must be Josh," I responded, feigning an exaggerated enthusiasm that bordered on patronizing.


    "Yeah¡­ um, who''s this? Are you one of Dad''s friends?"


    An innocent guess, kid. But why would one of your father''s friends call his kids'' number?


    "Yeah! I must have accidentally dialed your number instead of his. Would you be so kind as to pass the phone to your dad? Just say it''s a work-related matter, he''ll understand," I requested, maintaining the charade.


    There was a momentary pause before Josh answered.


    "Okay! I can do that for you, mister. Just gimme a sec!" Josh''s eagerness was evident.


    Another interval of silence ensued until a knock, presumably on a door, echoed through the line.


    "Daaaaaaad! A friend wants to talk to you!" Josh''s voice loudly rang out.


    "A friend? What would one of your friends want to talk to me about? You''ve been telling people at school I''m a diplomat again?" The voice¨CScott questioned.


    "Nooooo! He''s not my friend! He sounds like an older guy who says that he''s your friend from work!" Josh''s response dripped with innocence.


    I could sense his father''s tension rising, despite being through the phone.


    "Hand the phone over. And go play your Fortnite or whatever," Scott 0rdered, footsteps rushing off as his son complied. "So, who''s this?" His voice, as clear as ever now being spoken directly through the phone asks.


    "Ah, my apologies for grabbing your attention through your son. I-"


    "Make this quick. Otherwise, I''ll make you regret it¨Cfor using my son in such a manner." His voice came out calm, and direct. He''s mad, beyond it, but his experience as a diplomat won''t show it.


    "My name is Andrew Ashford. Once again, I''ll reiterate, I apologize for contacting you in such an inappropriate manner. I come bearing information that may change the whole world as we know it. I wish to use your position in the UN for a meeting." I explained, adhering to his command.


    "Ashford¡­" Recognition flickered as my name rolled off his tongue. "So, what is it? What is this ''world-changing'' news you bring."


    "Well Mr. Brown, do you believe in magic?"


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "Hmm¡­ well, color me interested. It''ll take some time from my end, but I can likely arrange that meeting for you."


    After spending the last 20 minutes, giving a brief but informative summary of my events in Israel, it seemed I had won over Scott''s interest.


    "I thank you for all of your help, Ambassador."


    "I expect you to have substantial evidence, something that can reliably back up this ''Arcanum'' you speak of¡­" His voice trails off into silence before he continues. "I assume that this phone number you''re calling me from is the best way to keep in contact with you?"


    "That would be correct, Ambassador."


    "Very well, keep an eye out for a message from me in the future."


    With that final note, he hangs up, causing my phone to go silent.


    I exhaled a sigh of relief. That went well, all things considered. Now¡­ how best to prove the existence of something seemingly mythical¡­


    Slumping into my chair, I swiveled to face my desk, noticing a notification buzzing from my other phone¨Ca message from Sarah on a social media application.


    ¡­That could be a backup plan.


    ¡ª------------------------


    "So, what''s the plan with the anime armor?" Sarah''s voice floated beside me as we strode along the dusty path, the sun casting long shadows behind us.


    I halted, turning to regard her with a raised eyebrow. "Let''s refrain from calling it that," I replied, earning a giggle from Sarah for my reaction to her oddly accurate description of the mystical artifact.


    Resuming our stride, we arrived at a nondescript shack-like building secured with a digital keypad lock. "We''re going to try to break it," I answered casually, tapping in the access code with an experienced rhythm.


    "Break it? Why the hell would you try that?" Sarah''s confusion was palpable, her brow furrowed under the desert sun.


    Stepping inside, we encountered another metal door requiring a thumbprint scan. "That''s precisely the point. We''re going to try," I explained, passing through the final security check.


    Inside, my gaze fell upon what I sought: a wall adorned with an array of firearms, each one meticulously arranged and gleaming under the soft glow of the overhead lights. "It''ll probably survive," I remarked, my eyes scanning over the lethal arsenal before me.


    With a grin, I selected a rifle from the assortment. "Probably."


    "So you plan to shoot the armor¡­ with that?!" Sarah''s incredulity was evident as she gestured at the rifle slung over my shoulder.


    To be precise, my Barret M82A3 anti-material rifle, loaded with .50 BMG armor-piercing rounds. A rifle capable of penetrating over an inch of solid concrete with ease.


    "Yes." Locking everything behind me, I motioned towards the exit of the building. "Are you coming? We have an audience waiting."


    "An audience?" Sarah''s curiosity was piqued, her steps quickening to catch up with mine, as we stepped back into the desert heat.


    With a chuckle, "You''ll see."


    Sarah maintained her puzzled expression, trying to decipher my cryptic words. Shaking her head, she fell into step behind me, accustomed to my enigmatic ways.


    Together, we continued along the dusty path, enveloped in comfortable silence, the occasional rustle of the desert breeze stirring the loose sand beneath our feet. Sarah was occupied with her phone as we walked, her fingers tapping away at the screen.


    "Oh, by the way, keep your phone out. I want you to record this." I told her, my voice tinged with anticipation.


    "Record wh-"


    "There you are, boss man! We''ve been pretty eagerly waiting for you to arrive!" Hugo''s voice rang out, cutting Sarah off, his excitement contagious as he greeted us with enthusiasm.


    As we crested over the slight hill of the dune we were walking on, we were greeted with the sight of a few dozen people, the majority of whom had their own personal phones out, capturing the moment. Out towards the right of the group, approximately 200 meters away, a stand of armor stood. The magic armor we recovered.


    Coughing into my hand, I adjusted my voice, projecting it across the gathering crowd.


    "Alright! Welcome all, welcome everyone! I sent out an open invite to everyone on-site if they wished to spectate! My only request was to record and share absolutely everything you see here!"


    Taking a moment to walk over towards a sandbag wall reaching up to my waist, I pointed out towards the sandy field at the armor in the distance.


    "I wish to show everyone here that this peculiar-looking set of armor is supernatural! Capable of feats that regular items are incapable of achieving." Pulling the bipod down from the end of my rifle, I stabilized it on the firing position that had been set up for myself, before entering into a crouched position.


    "This here, anti-material rifle, can penetrate roughly an inch of face-hardened steel. The same type of steel that is used to defend the lovely armored vehicles that you''ve all probably seen before." Finally, I load a magazine into the bottom of the rifle, before sliding the charging handle back with a satisfying metallic click, that echoed in the stillness of the desert.


    "Now I ask you, the lovely audience who are here to witness this demonstration. Do you all here think that a set of regular plate armor would survive a round from this thing?" There were a couple of murmurs of disagreement coming from behind me before someone in the crowd shouted a very strong


    """""Hell no!"""""


    "Haha! You''re goddamn right! It''d absolutely destroy the thing! Now, I ask of you again, this armor set of unknown origins. Would that survive?" Aiming down the scope of my rifle, placing the set of armor within the center of my scope''s reticle- "Let''s find out, shall we!"


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    -I squeeze the trigger.


    BOOM!


    The sand beneath me erupted from the pure force that the gun just produced, as the large rifle kicked backward into my shoulder, reacting to its incredible recoil, sending a jolt of pain throughout my bones. The deafening roar of the rifle echoed throughout the desert, reverberating for kilometers in every direction.


    "Hey! Hugo! Out of ten, what''s your favorite number?" I yell out, my finger still on the trigger.


    "Six! What''s with the que-"


    BOOM!


    BOOM!


    BOOM!


    BOOM!


    BOOM!


    I squeeze and release the trigger five more times, soaring down five more rounds down range, the rhythmic cadence of gunfire punctuating the desert silence.


    "Wooohee!" Pushing my finger up on the safety of the weapon, I flick it on before I rest the rifle against the wall, the adrenaline of the moment still coursing through my veins. "How you like them apples?!" After releasing round after round, my ears rang out in protest, the echoes of gunfire still pulsated in the desert air, a testament to the power of this demonstration.


    As the dust settled, it became apparent that the armor remained unscathed, its surface gleaming mockingly defiant in the sunlight.


    Did I miss?


    Looking out towards the left of the sandbags, where a few cameras were present, I called out to the guys operating them.


    "Hey! Did the high-speed camera catch all of that?"


    "Yeah, yeah! Do you wanna check it out?" the camera operator yells back, the excitement of the moment evident in his voice.


    "Of course!" Jogging over to where all the camera equipment was placed, the operator linked the captured footage to a large-screen TV that everyone could watch.


    On the TV, stood a still image of the set of armor, the anticipation building with each passing moment.


    "The first round should be coming into contact¡­ anytime now." A moment later, the bullet flew into frame slowly, the tension in the air palpable as we awaited the outcome of our demonstration.


    Roughly just a little smaller than the length of my hand, I feel my heart accelerate in anticipation as I watch the projective hit center mass with the armor¡­


    ¡­As if it were a soda can, the bullet collapses in on itself as if somebody crushed the round in between their hand before it slid off the ridges of the armor and hit the sandy floor.


    There were mixed reactions from the crowd, some were just happy to see a big gun being fired, and others were astonished. Especially for those who truly knew the capabilities of the weapon, to see it so¡­ ineffective, was shocking¨CI too felt it.


    "Other rounds coming in now¡­" The camera operator announced.


    The results were the same, each round that came in, had shattered, collapsing in on itself, the power of the armor is undeniable. However, three out of the six bullets hit roughly the same area, directly in the center, which did result in some sort of damage. Entirely minimal, although, the area that was struck repeatedly was barely dented. If you weren''t purposely looking for it, you''d definitely miss it.


    I wonder how explosives would work against it¡­


    Breaking my thoughts, a buzz from my pocket alerts my attention. The phone that buzzed¨Cmy burner phone had received a text from a new unknown number. Opening the notification, I read the message:


    ¡¸Next week from this message. Get to New York over to our headquarters. Make use of it well, the others, and I eagerly await to see what you bring us.


    Scott Brown¡¹


    Good, that''s good. Things are moving along nicely¡­ Well, time to do more testing.


    "Hugo! Bring over a wrecking ball!"


    ¡ª------------------------


    ¡ª28 July 2023¡ª


    With deft hands, Sarah meticulously combed through my hair, her skilled fingers navigating through each strand with precision. Her touch was gentle yet purposeful, smoothing down any stray hairs that dared to disrupt the immaculate lines of my newly styled haircut.


    Glancing into the mirror ahead of me, I studied my reflection with a sense of detachment.


    Yep, despite everything, that''s still me.


    Side-stepping into my vision, Sarah slaps her hands on both of my shoulders, peering into my eyes through the mirror with a scrutinizing expression.


    "Yeah, you still look gay." She comments, her face lighting up in amusement.


    Swatting her hands off my shoulders. "What''s with you and calling me gay recently?"


    "Hmm¡­ well, you''re rich, famous, smart although only sometimes, and you got a good mug on ya, but despite all that, you STILL get NO bitches! I thought rich guys were supposed to be dashing playboys," She teased, wrapping her arms around my neck from behind in a hug, despite my earlier protests.


    "Not only that but as of recently, you''ve been hanging out with a bunch of really buff dudes¨Cand they''re usually shirtless and sweaty. VERY sweaty, or is it oil? I dunno, they''re just shiny muscly men." Sarah continued, resting her chin on my shoulder.


    "You know that was because we were in Israel. It''s hot in the desert, and the guys in both the excavation and mining teams probably felt more at ease with fewer clothes. It''s mainly men because the industry IS mainly men. When you think of miners, you probably think of a guy, don''t you?"


    Flicking her on the nose, she retreats off me with a quiet ''ow''.


    "Besides, I don''t have an interest in anything romance-related. I''m busy."


    "Yes yes, you''re off trying to change the world! Expose the spooky wizards by pulling them from the dark and into the light!" She muses with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Assuming you do succeed, after all that, what''s your plan next?" She asks, plopping down on a sofa behind me.


    Swiveling on the chair, I faced her, "I''ll continue to look for more artifacts, I highly doubt that the armor we found is the only thing hidden away. Other than that¡­" I close my eyes. "I''ll find her."


    "Mmm, is that right¡­?" Sarah flicked her phone out of her pocket, tapping on the screen to bring it to life. "Well, you''re on in just about five minutes. You ready to complete your first step?"


    A week had passed since I received the message from Ambassador Brown. During that time, we conducted various ''unique'' tests on the arcanic armor we found. A few other minor artifacts rich in Arcanum were also unearthed, although they paled in comparison to the armor. Regardless, they would serve as useful evidence.


    Flying out to New York, Sarah and I arrived just yesterday. Today was meeting day. I briefly met with Ambassador Brown momentarily earlier for him to give me further context on what exactly I was walking into. Unfortunately for me, I won''t be presenting in a public hearing¨Ca meeting that would have been accessible to absolutely anyone, as long as they have internet access.


    Regardless, I''d still be sharing information with a handful of diplomats from various countries. Predominantly, the security council. The most prominent and permanent members in that council being: China, France, the USA, the UK, and Russia.


    Since the United Nations Security Council¨CUNSC for short, had the primary responsibility of maintaining international security and peace, I bring information that may disrupt that balance. Rather, than inciting panic by revealing the existence of magic to the world, I was to share my findings privately with governmental figures and discuss a plan moving forward.


    Getting up from my seat, I stepped back, before looking into the mirror once more¨Cthis time with my whole figure visible.


    Sarah had carefully curated my attire, selecting a black tight-fitting turtleneck that hugged my frame snugly. Paired with a well-fitted pair of black chinos, and an unbuttoned suit jacket over my turtleneck, its shade is subtly lighter than the rest, seamlessly blending all the dark tones together. It looked good, too good, fitting me like a glove tailored to perfection. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable if I were to be truthful, as I was never truly a big fan of dressing up like this.


    "How do you feel?" Sarah called out to me from lounging on the sofa, her one leg dangling off the side.


    "Awkward, but¡­" My expression stiffens. "...ready to take on the world."


    Sarah snorts. "Dude, that was kinda cringe."


    As I''m about to smack the side of her head, the door to the antechamber we''re in opens, presenting a man wearing a dark navy suit. His eyebrow raised as sees my hand raised in a threatening manner, a moment away from my sister.


    "Ahem-Mr. Ashford? I''ve come to collect you, it''s time." he says, dismissing the scene in front of him with a cough.


    "Ah, right. Let''s get going then." Returning my hands to my sides, I gave a look to Sarah that roughly translates to ''behave.''


    As I follow the guide out of the room, the bustling hallway envelops me in a whirlwind of diverse languages and bustling activity, the air seemingly alive with the hum of conversations in varying tongues. The vibrant mosaic of cultures and nationalities represented here at the United Nations headquarters was undeniably tangible.


    Along the walls, I''m struck by the presence of captivating murals, intricate sculptures, and other pieces of artwork, each seemingly imbued with layers of symbolism and significance beyond their physical forms.


    Clutching my briefcase tightly, its metallic exterior smooth beneath my fingers. Within the case, lay the tools of my most recent mission in Israel¨Cdocuments, data, and evidence meticulously gathered and organized to bolster my arguments and support my case. As I navigated the labyrinthine corridors, I couldn''t shake the feeling of indifferent attachment to what was about to come.


    How peculiar. I''d expect to feel more nervous.


    Exiting one hallway, before entering into a long corridor leading to imposing double doors, the escort stood by the side of the door, gesturing for me to proceed. With a steadying breath, I stepped froward.


    Letting my eyes adjust to the light of the new room, I was met with the sight of the large horseshoe-shaped table that dominated the chamber¨Cthe iconic centerpiece of the United Nations Security Council.


    Along its sweeping curve, each seat bore a long microphone and a nameplate signifying the country and position of its occupant. Flicking my eyes around the table, I located the plate that belonged to me¨Cprecisely positioned to present the United States of America as an Attach¨¦ to the Deputy Ambassador. Specifically labeled as a Guest.


    Guest, huh?


    Around the chamber was a hive of activity, with a dozen or so individuals scattered around, all donned in formal attire that bespoke their roles as ambassadors, diplomats, and representatives of their respective nations. Engaged in various conversations in their own small circles, my ears pick up on the odd discussion spoken here and there, whether that be recent events such as the increase of natural disasters, international relations, and other trending issues facing the global community currently.


    Towards the left of the room. Elevated above the floor, stood two booths that overlooked the proceedings. Each equipped with state of the art technology and panoramic windows, they provided a bird''s eye view of the deliberations below.


    It must be the interpretation and media room, although¡­


    Glancing at the top booth, the media room, I noted a distinct lack of personnel amidst the array of cameras and equipment.


    I see, this is what he meant by private.


    "Mr. Ashford!"


    Speaking of him.


    The familiar voice cut through the buzz of conversation, drawing my attention to the figure of Deputy Ambassador Brown. His hair initially brown, had blended with grey¨Ca show of his experienced age. Regardless, seeing him in person, he exuded an air of seasoned confidence that commanded respect.


    "Mr. Brown, it''s good to see you." I replied. Acknowledging his presence with a nod of my head.


    "Likewise," he takes a moment to adjust his red and white striped tie against his black suit. "To catch you up, the chamber has already concluded with its daily meetings. Now, only the permanent members of the UNSC will stay behind."


    "I see," my gaze drifting to the booths on the side, before back to Brown. "I''ve also noticed the lack of manpower in the media room."


    "Correct. Only those that were necessary needed for the talks to come stayed behind." His eyes shift from my own to the briefcase I''m carrying. "I assume you''ve brought some ''interesting'' information on this Arcanum?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.


    Gently shaking the briefcase I have in hand. "Of course. That and some other things that you folk will find bizarre."


    "Magic is supposedly real¡­ I eagerly await to see what you show us, Mr. Ashford." Brown remarked, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic contents of my briefcase. "It''s a shame Elizabeth couldn''t be here, I''m sure she would''ve loved this upcoming spectacle."


    "Elizabeth?"


    "Ah right, Elizabeth Wood. She serves as the main ambassador to the UN. Since she''s absent currently, I''m filling her position in the meantime."


    "Oh, I see." I should make a mental note of that name for future reference.


    "Anyways, why don''t you take your seat and set yourself up? We''ll begin the talks soon now that you''re finally here," Brown suggested, gesturing towards my designated spot at the table.


    "I shall do exactly that then." I agreed, offering a respectful nod before making my way towards the Guest seat reserved for me. As I settled into my chair, I retrieved a USB drive from my pocket, housing crucial information in the presentation that awaited me, and then inserted it into the laptop provided.


    As if on cue, a sudden musical chime echoed throughout the chamber, its clear tones signaling for everyone to finish up their conversations and prepare for the upcoming discussion. Gradually, the bustling activity began to subside as each participant took their designated seats around the expansive horseshoe-shaped table.


    Once everyone was settled, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, accompanied by hushed murmurs and whispered exchanges that fluttered among the assembled diplomats like delicate whispers in the wind.


    "The 364th private meeting of the Security Council has been called to order," proclaimed the British president, his accent imbuing his words with authority as he struck his gavel against the polished table.


    "This category of meeting serves the purpose of privately discussing matters that shouldn''t or should not yet be made known publicly," the president declared solemnly, his voice carrying control and gravitas. "For everyone present here, I ask you all to not divulge any word that was spoken here¨Cfor the sake of international security."


    The room fell into a respectful silence, each participant acknowledging the gravity of the proceedings unfolding before them. Soon after, a request for the floor was granted to the representative of the United States of America, prompting Deputy Scott Brown to rise from his seat to address the assembly.


    "We would like for everyone here to listen well and brace themselves," Brown began, his voice projecting with confidence and purpose. "I bring a man, a guest¨Can expert on an element, an energy¨Ca matter that is completely alien and foreign to us. Someone whose name you might recognize. Andrew Ashford."


    All eyes turned towards me, their collective gaze fixed expectantly as I leaned closer to the microphone, my pulse quickening with the weight of the moment.


    "Deputy, thank you," I acknowledged, meeting Brown''s gaze with a nod of gratitude. "As Mr. Brown said, I''ve recently come to be regarded as an ''expert'' on an element that was once entirely inconceivable¨Can element known as Arcanum."


    Unclipping the hinges of my briefcase to reveal its enigmatic contents, I retrieved a scroll from within, carefully unfurling it and placing it before me, readying a projector to illuminate its ancient text for all to see.


    The chamber fell into a collective gasp as the ancient script materialized before their eyes.


    In Adam and Eve''s library, a variety of items are housed, all with one common purpose: they were either worn or created by Adam and Eve. From what we can tell so far, the most prized possession is Adam''s Battle Armor, known for its extraordinary strength, reinforced with dense and complex layers of Arcanum woven into it like threads in a dress. This armor showcases the skill, versatility, creativity and penchant for pure chaos and destruction of its creator¨CAdam himself. The library also contains many scrolls and books, each filled with valuable knowledge and wisdom. These texts cover a range of subjects, adding to the wealth of human understanding preserved within the library''s walls. There exis-


    As the contents of the scroll were projected onto a screen, a chorus of murmurs and gasps filled the chamber, accompanied by a flurry of questions and exclamations.


    "Adam and Eve? As in the first humans¡­?"


    "The scroll¡­ is written in Russian?"


    "What? It''s written in Chinese."


    "English? It''s written in clear English!"


    Amidst the confusion, I sought to clarify the mysterious nature of the scroll''s ambiguous multilingual script.


    "You''re all correct." I affirmed, addressing the bewildered assembly. "This scroll is written in all those languages. And regarding Adam and Eve¡­ we believe it to be linked to the biblical figures¨Cthe first humans."


    "Mr. Ashford, this text is clearly written in French. What exactly do you mean by us being all correct?" The French Ambassador inquired, his brow furrowed in confusion.


    "From my testing, the scroll is read in whatever language the reader is most proficient in." I explained, shedding light on the supernatural. "It uniquely manifests in the language most familiar to the observer. I''ve had people test it. So far, we''ve got English, Japanese, Arabic, Russian, French, Chinese, Pashto, Korean, Italian, Spanish, Por¨Cthe list goes on and on."


    "How is that possible? And how is it linked to this ''Arcanum?''"


    "For your first question, we still have no idea. And yes, this is believed to be the doing of Arcanum. If I may get your attention to this next item I''m about to present¡­"


    Brandishing an FLD device, I deftly activated it, its electronic hum filling the chamber as it scanned the surroundings for traces of Arcanum


    "These items were initially called ''Foreign Locator Devices'' or FLDs for short," I explained, gesturing towards the device. "Although, for convenience, you can now call these Arcanum Locator Devices, as we know what we''re looking for now."


    Scanning the room, the device emitted a series of beeps as it detected a dense reading of Arcanum, miles away before the signal dissipated as quickly as it appeared.


    A bug? I shou-


    "Mr. Ashford, how exactly do these ''ALDs'' work?" asked the Russian Ambassador, his tone gruff with curiosity.


    "These ALDs function similarly to an EMF reader. However, instead of detecting electromagnetic frequencies, they read the frequency of Arcanum instead. What''s truly fascinating, however¡­"


    "...that Arcanum is everywhere." I declared, sweeping the ALD across the room to emphasize my point, the device beeping as it did so. "Although, more interestingly¡­"


    I pointed the device at myself, its beeping intensifying as it detected the Arcanum within me.


    "Humans, it seems, are conduits for its energy." I continued, the realization dawning upon the assembly. "We passively absorb it like oxygen. Some individuals harbor more significant concentrations than others due to their proximity to densely Arcanic areas or items. Like me."


    "Is Arcanum dangerous?" The Russian Ambassador''s voice cut through the room, his tone laced with apprehension and curiosity.


    "For it to be inside of you? I don''t believe so, at least I haven''t felt or shown any negative symptoms from holding so much Arcanum." I reassured addressing the diplomat''s concerns. "Although, as you have seen, Arcanum can be utilized within items. You may recall reading earlier on the scroll about ''Adam''s Battle Armor.'' We''ve managed to recover that, and I''d like to demonstrate its remarkable capabilities."


    With a few clicks, I shared specific video files from my laptop, distributing them to each diplomat''s device in the chamber. The footage predominately showcased durability testing of the Arcane Armor¨Cscenes of it enduring crushing, gunfire, explosions, and other forms of assault.


    "As you can witness from these videos, the resilience of Arcanum is unmatched," I remarked, the images on the screens illustrating the armor''s imperviousness to conventional weaponry and forces. "Despite my company''s most concerted efforts, we only managed to achieve negligible results."


    The room fell into a hushed awe as diplomats absorbed the implications of the footage, murmurs of amazement and disbelief rippling through the assembly.


    "According to all available data and research, this armor represents the most potent Arcanic artifact we''ve encountered thus far," I continued, my voice cutting through the quiet. "There is a distinct possibility that similar items are scattered across Earth. Currently, we''ve detected several other intense Arcanum frequencies that we have yet to investigate."


    Transitioning to the next segment of my presentation, I clicked on additional files containing data, graphs, and statistics, projecting them onto the screens scattered throughout the chamber.


    "Let us now delve deeper into the broader implications of Arcanum." I announced, gesturing towards the illuminated graphs. "As you can observe from these charts, there has been a steady rise in Arcanum across the globe. However, it''s worth noting that these numbers initially appeared high due to our recent advancements in detection technology. I hypothesize that Arcanum has been escalating for centuries, if not millennia, largely unnoticed by humanity."


    Pausing briefly to hydrate, I gathered my thoughts before continuing.


    "I have strong reason to believe that Arcanum is beginning to exert its influence on our world in multifaceted ways." I asserted, my tone grave and earnest. "As evidenced by the increase in natural disasters and other anomalous phenomena, the correlation between Arcanum increasing and such occurrences also increasing is difficult to ignore."


    "Are you suggesting that as Arcanum levels rise, natural disasters become more frequent?" asked the Deputy Ambassador of China, her voice tinged with trepidation.


    "Precisely." I affirmed, meeting her gaze with my own. "However, while this phenomenon pertains to Earth itself, my primary concern lies with its potential impact on humanity."


    "Humanity? You mean humans?" Her apprehension was tangible.


    "Yes," I confirmed, addressing the assembly with a sobering tone. "While I lack concrete evidence of Arcanum-induced changes in humans, the data suggests that we may not be immune to its effects. From the artifacts we''ve recovered to the observed influence on Earth, there is ample reason to suspect that humanity may be subject to Arcanum''s influence as well."


    The chamber buzzed with conversation as diplomats exchanged theories and conjectures, grappling with the implications of this revelation.


    "In light of these developments, I implore everyone to remain vigilant," I urged, my voice cutting through the racket. "Keep a watchful eye for any phenomena that may be deemed supernatural or anomalous. Earth is changing, and whether we are prepared or not, change is inevitable. Let us endeavor to meet it with foresight, wariness, and unity."


    Or perhaps, is Earth returning to how it was once before?

 5: Inception, of Something New

    ¡ª16 November 2023¡ª


    ¨C5:02 am¨C


    The rubber flooring underneath undulated up and down like a tidal wave on a stormy night as Arthur''s form blurred and whirred like a gentle breeze across the training room.


    A man lunged towards Arthur.


    Planting his back foot firmly into the floor beneath that sunk in from the sheer force, his front foot zipped through the air like a bullet into a steep kick toward Arthur''s chest.


    Bringing his arms up in an X shape, he blocked it, absorbing the impact.


    The kick sent a tremor through his bones, however, his feet remained planted, not moving a single inch.


    Using the small moment Arthur was taking to get back into stance, the man covered up the distance with a single leap and swung his left arm into a swift jab to Arthur''s guard.


    Unfazed by the sudden followup after the initial failure, Arthur slapped his fist, making it go off-course from its original trajectory.


    The man stumbled forward towards him. However, using the additional momentum, he followed with a bone-crushing cross coated in a translucent sheen of Arcanum that made Arthur take a step back.


    Capitalising on it, he unleashed a rapid-fire assault of elbows and knees. As the man jumped to drive his knee into Arthur''s ribs, he suddenly blurred inwards instead of dodging it.


    This divergent course of action made the man widen his eyes as Arthur closed the distance and clinched him, wrapping his arms around his torso.


    At the same time, using his height as an advantage, Arthur kicked the knee of his supporting leg, making the man stumble downwards.


    Arthur spun around, transitioning into a headlock. His arm raised and was about to plunge his elbow into the man''s head as his senses flared outwards like an alarm clock. Breaking the lock, he jumped forward, punching the man''s face before he did so.


    "Phew, he almost had you, Paul." Another man approached the one coughing on the floor.


    Both men seemed to be in their primes. Both of them had almond shaped eyes, black hair and black eyes. They were both martial artists of the highest category in their own individual fighting styles who also knew how to use Arcanum.


    They were from a long line of fighters who were regulated by one of the Seven Syndicates.


    "Young Arthur has improved quite a bit, I''d say. Don''t you think the same, Jack?" Paul asked, taking Jack''s extended hand as he pulled him to his feet.


    "I''d say he has lost his touch." Jack replied, shaking his head as he saw Arthur standing at quite some distance from them.


    Arthur''s feet were hovering about the flooring, numerous tiny, translucent things bouncing back and forth at a speed that was impossible to track with the naked eye.


    Arthur rolled his eyes. "I have been studying for the past two years. You can pretend to go easy on those harsh compliments."


    "Studying does not justify this much drop in skill." Jack retorted, holding Arthur''s gaze as his feet touched the ground. "What are you even studying? Have you even trained?"


    "Chemistry. And no, I have not." Arthur replied as a matter of factly and then spoke again. "Oops?"


    Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well. Anyways. Let''s start again."


    Arthur nodded in response. Jack and Paul were Arthur''s martial arts trainers from a young age. Even though he could not remember much about them for some odd reason, his body seemed to remember their teachings. Due to him being able to use Arcanum, there was no need to worry about him getting hurt. Since then, he was made to attend other classes as well, however, in the end, Arthur showed the most interest in these two martial arts.


    Muay Thai and Taekwondo.


    There was no specific reason behind this. Perhaps it was because in his dull routines, Arthur became fond of the oddly charismatic attitude of the two or it was entirely on an impulse. No one knows. Even Sif could not tell why he chose these two.


    Arcanum flared to life around both Jack and Paul as they lowered their stances.


    Jack lowered even down and suddenly, his feet caught on fire. Smouldering flames arose, distorting the view of the world around them. The next moment, he dashed forward. Leaving a thick trail of crisp char on the flooring underneath, he arrived in front of Arthur in the blink of an eye.


    Spinning his body, he swung his leg in a circular motion atop Arthur''s head. Moving his head to the side, Arthur dodged the falling embers that were about to ignite into his hair, moving away from the range of his roundhouse kick.


    However, a smirk formed on Jack''s lips. As soon as Arthur moved, Jack pivoted on his supporting foot and twisted his body violently in the opposite direction. Simultaneously, chambering his other leg and extending it outwards, his heel whistled through the air towards Arthur''s chin.


    Arthur''s grey eyes matched Jack''s before tracing along the heel that was about to make contact with him. In the blur of a second, using the tip of his shoes, he pushed himself back for a mere fraction of an inch as Jack''s kick missed Arthur. The force of the kick sent a wave of hot air towards the roof.


    At the same moment, Arthur grabbed Jack by the collar and pulled him towards himself. Since his foot was still in the air, his balance was totally disturbed. As Jack''s body fell towards Arthur, he drove his knee into Jack''s solar plexus.


    At the same time, Jack placed both of his hands on Arthur''s knee, and pushed his own body back, absorbing the impact.


    Paul''s overhand right landed square on Arthur''s jaw, making his grip on Jack''s collar loosen. Wriggling out of his hold, Jack formed a little distance between them. Without wasting a second, Paul performed a bull rush, wrapping his arms around Arthur''s waist.


    Capitalising on the moment, Jack jumped right in again. Coiling his own arms around Paul''s midsection, Arthur jerked it with all his might. Paul felt his organs tangibly move and bile rise up to his mouth from the sheer force of the wave that had swept over him like a tsunami from just a single tug.


    ''This isn''t just brute strength. He''s using some kind of technique¡­''


    Grabbing Jack''s foot, he spun his body and redirected his entire momentum towards the side, making Jack crash like a meteorite into the padded walls. Using his elbow, Arthur struck Paul at the back of his head. He reeled back, his senses disoriented.


    As Arthur dashed forward, Paul looked up immediately. Blinking away the dizziness and the nauseating sensation, he immediately side-stepped, augmenting his entire body into Arcanum. He hooked with his dominant hand towards Arthur''s ribs.


    His fist made contact, however, the reeling sensation from a powerful strike to the head and weird Arcane Arts being used at his middle section had sapped his strength away. The punch felt no more than a small tap.


    Twisting his body backwards, Arthur dodged a swift fire augmented kick from Jack. Spinning around him, Arthur reached out for Paul and kicked his head with the upper side of his foot, making him fall to the floor with a loud thud.


    Arthur''s back arched as Jack finally managed to land a kick at him. He winced, biting the searing sensation of flames eating- nibbling away at his skin. The flames exploded underneath Jack''s feet, making the plastic flooring underneath also catch on fire.


    Jack jumped once again with his knee going towards Arthur. However, midair, his leg snapped open and extended his foot suddenly, increasing his reach. Arthur used his palm to slightly tap it and use the force from the tap to move to the side. However, as Jack''s foot was in the air, he brought it down like an axe chopping a piece of wood towards Arthur''s collarbone.


    As it landed, Arthur felt the bones inside his collarbone make a noise that they definitely should not. Immediately grabbing his foot by his shin, Arthur sealed his foot placement over his cracked collarbone. For the first time, Arcanum flared to life around his hand that was balled into a fist and used the back of his fist to strike his face.


    The impact was like a really big firecracker going off, making a shockwave run across the entire training room. The windows on the other side rattled violently from the shockwaves for a few good seconds before calming down as Jack fell on the floor as well, his eyes rolling back into his head.


    At the same time, the alarm went off, making the "fire sprinklers" activate. Looking back, Arthur saw that almost half of the training room was burnt down. Letting out a long sigh, he looked outside the window, his long ash brown hair¡ªstyled in the curtain style that Astrid had decided for him¡ªcovering his eyes. He tried to move his arm, however, it creaked and a stabbing sensation went across it.


    Looking away from the window and down at his childhood instructors, he sighed again. "Yep, can''t remember anything." He spoke to himself, under her breath. "To think this stupid Jack actually broke my bone."


    ¡ª-----------------------------------


    ¨C6:20 am¨C


    The door flung open as Arthur came inside his room. His room was fairly big, around 350 square feet. It was a rather simple room in aesthetic, however, just a single step inside relaxed his nerves, simplicity marrying comfort in a perfect harmony.


    The room was bathed in a palette of soft neutrals, the walls painted in warm tones of cream and accented by subtle hints of taupe. The flooring was dark in colour and rich in exposure, adding a touch of sophistication, coupled with a plush area filled with rugs in shades of ivory and charcoal.


    Minimalist artwork adorned the walls, each piece carefully chosen to add visual interest without overwhelming the space.


    A pair of floor-to-ceiling windows lined one side of the room, while sheer curtains in a soft linen fabric draped over it.


    The giant grey sofa just in front of the window was accentuated further due to the one sitting on it. It was Astrid, wearing a white comfy night pyjamas that covered her whole body. Atop her dress, she was wearing a purple coloured open sweater.


    A small laptop rested on her thighs as she had placed her legs on the table in front of her, her fingers rapidly tapping against the keyboard. Her forehead had a deep frown on it and her eyes focused as her feet juddered left and right anxiously.


    Arthur glanced over in her direction, and the look in his eyes softened. "Astrid."


    "Ehh¨CHuh?! Arthur¡ª" Panicking, she looked up and stood immediately. The laptop resting on her thighs fell down and landed to the side on the carpet. "Oh for fuc¡ª Sorry, sorry. Just let me pick it up. I will be back with you in a sec!" Awkwardly, she stooped down and picked it up, inspecting each and every inch of it.


    Arthur smiled slightly, shaking his head. His gaze then flicked towards his bed. "I see you''ve been making good use of my bed." He spoke, his tone amused.


    "Well¡ª" Astrid started to speak, quickly tapping a few keys on her laptop before closing the lid with a loud thud. "¡ªI was waiting for you to come back and let me know where I could stay. You didn''t return the whole night so I just slept on your bed." She spoke and raised her arms. "I mean, you don''t expect me to stay up all night waiting for you, right?"


    "Yeah. Not really." Arthur replied, a playful look on his face as he walked over to her. His hair was still damp from the water sprinkled all over him after his training. "I was a bit busy. A few things came up." He continued and stood in front of her.


    She was a tall girl for her age, standing at just 2 inches shorter than him at 172 cm. As she looked up, Arthur let his body fall to the side, landing into the plush embrace of the warm sofa. As his body plopped up and down, Astrid turned around and looked back at him.


    "God¡ª Arthur. What happened to you? Your arm isn''t supposed to look like this." Astrid suddenly took notice, his one arm visibly longer than the other. Sitting down on the floor, just beside him, she grabbed his arm with both her hands.


    "''Tis but a scratch." Arthur smirked at her.


    "Not funny." She snapped angrily, and poked her finger into his collarbone.


    "Oww¨C"


    Arcanum flickered to life inside her body.


    The human body had multiple ¡¸Nodes¡¹ that acted as Checkpoints for the ¡¸Magic Activation¡¹


    In simpler terms, the entirety of the human body was a ¡¸Magic Circuit¡¹ . And Arcanum flowed inside this magic circuit just like the electrochemical signals in the nervous system. The Heart was literally the "The Heart of Magic Circuit" as a person''s mana supply originated from the main node that was located inside the heart.


    Although a person''s technique or magic type was engraved inside the brain, the fuel needed to manifest that magic or in more relevant terms, Arcane Arts, came from the heart. This also leads to the fact that a naturally gifted person would be faster in casting their Arcane Arts, since cognitive abilities are closely related to neural impulses.


    And this electrochemical signal from one Node to another is¡ªin most cases¡ªdirectly proportional to one''s inherent neural impulse speed.


    ¡¸Phase 1 ¡ª Reconstruct¡ª Variation: Ossiculum ¡¹


    Astrid''s hands glowed in a dull white light as she placed one over Arthur''s arm and the other over his collarbone. Her touch was warm against the oddly frigid surface of his skin.


    The barely visible tendrils of white energy hummed with a subdued tone, as if whispering to itself. Like a parasite, it clung on to Arthur''s arm and then dug its way into it. Arthur''s brows creased for a fraction of an inch as it stuck to the node inside his arm and then increased in speed, shooting upwards like a torpedo.


    With a sharp snap, his arm jolted back into alignment, almost as if it were being guided by an unseen hand. At the same time, the shards of fractured bone appeared to be attracted back together, fitting snugly into their original positions like pieces of jigsaw.


    As the bones realigned, a faint sheen of light enveloped the injured area, forming a protective barrier.


    Like a forbidden seal in myths, a circle aligned upwards from Astrid''s hands before shrinking and entering inside his arm. The following moment, with a loud crack and pop, his arm had returned to its former glory. Completely unscathed.


    Looking up, Arthur saw the beads of sweat lining Astrid''s face as she fell back on her bum, heaving out heavy breaths. "Ooof¡ª that was hard." She exclaimed, the subtle light enveloping her hands flickering out of life. Arthur tilted forward, pulling his sleeve upwards until it covered half of his palm. Extending his hand forward, he wiped the sweat off her forehead. "Wha¡ª"


    "Sorry for overworking you." Arthur spoke, his voice as soft as a calming lullaby.


    Astrid shifted, "Eh-hehe. No worries." She smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "Even if it wasn''t my duty, I would''ve done it regardless." She spoke and then lowered her head, the heavy volume of her hair falling down and obscuring her features. "For you."


    "What was that?"


    "Should''ve heard it the first time, haha." She replied with a glee, flashing her pearls as Arthur groaned before sinking into the couch.


    His eyes traced along the wooden bookshelves that extended from the door to the other end of the room, completely filled with books. Astrid stood up and sat a seat away from Arthur.


    "Oh, by the way, what about your exams?" Arthur asked, pressing his fingers against his eyes.


    "Online." Astrid replied nonchalantly. "I was happy I didn''t have to give it. But it turns out due to some emergency in the area around where our school was, the exams are now online." She complained, her pale blue eyes carrying a look of pure horror as she messed her hair with both her hands, disheveling them. "I only have a week to prepare for that."


    Arthur looked to the side, over his shoulder. "You''ll be fine." He spoke, Astrid''s complaints oddly amusing him. "You have me."


    Astrid stared at him for a while, dumbfounded, before letting out a laugh. Slapping his shoulder, she spoke. "Of course, I do." A bright look formed on her face. "I always do."


    "Orrrr- you can just cheat on it."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Come on!" Astrid groaned. "Don''t say this stuff right after when I was thinking you said something sweet."


    "Sorry."


    "Hmph." She looked the other way. Arthur kept looking at her for a brief moment, visibly amused.


    "Hmm." Humming to himself, Arthur looked away from her and then at the window that was on the backside. Using his two fingers he pinched the soft fabric and pulled it to the side. It was 8 in the morning and pitch black outside. Since it was the end of November, the duration of nights had extended to 18 hours. Coupled with the clouds covering the sky, it made it nigh impossible to look without any artificial light.


    "Uhh, Arthur?"


    "Yeah?"


    "I have a request."


    Peeling his eyes away from the clouds, Arthur looked at Astrid.


    "Speak away."


    "Well, you know¡ª it''s my first time in Bergen and such, sooooooooooo~" She fiddled with her thumbs, squirming as she tried to formulate her words. "Can you show me around? I really want to explore this place."


    Arthur raised a brow and then both of them, finally understanding what was going on. "Oh. I forgot you like adventuring around in new places."


    "Grrrr¡ª" She growled. Rolling her eyes, she took a deep breath and then shrugged it off. "Yeah, basically that. So? Can you?"


    "Yeah." He replied, grabbing a hold of his foot and pulling it back, stretching it. "We can leave in an hour or two. The sun would be up by then." He spoke as he looked from the small gap in the curtains, "If it doesn''t rain that is."


    ¡ª---------------------


    ¨C8:30 am¨C


    With a childlike enthusiasm, Astrid hopped into Arthur''s room. Twirling around, she ran towards the mirror attached to the wall, beside the dressing table and looked at herself into it.


    In her attempt at braving the winter chill of Bergen¡ªwhich was much colder due to it raining in this city for more than 250 days every year¡ªshe was wearing a cosy, chunky knit black high-neck and a long red coloured open sweater. Accessorising thoughtfully, a chunky knit scarf hugged around her neck like a snake. Paired with corduroy black pants, the entire dress seemed to perfectly accentuate and compliment her features.


    Grounding the look was leather ankle boots with a small heel. Picking a snug knit hat, she wore it over her loosely kept silver¡ªalmost gunmetal¡ªhair, crowning her head. Her hair spilled down in a straight line before curling at the bottom.


    She giggled as she looked at her reflection, a playful charm sticking to her aura itself.


    Once she was done looking at herself, she happily ran towards the door. Just as she placed her hand on the handle of the door, the playful smile and the subtle hue of pink gracing her features vanished in an instant, replaced by a much more serious and refined look, losing the hints of the childish demeanour that she had displayed all this time around Arthur.


    Taking the first step outside, she felt a chilling sensation slap against her face, a stark contrast to the warm cocoon of the room she had stayed in ever since she arrived in Bergen. She trembled for a moment before correcting the single crease in her inner-wear.


    Looking to the side, she saw Arthur leaning against the wall of his room. He was looking down at the phone in his hand, its light illuminating his features in the otherwise almost dark ambience of his house. Feeling a presence right next to himself, Arthur slipped his phone into his pocket before looking to the side.


    His mouth opened to say something, however, instead of saying it, he sealed his lips shut, pushing the words back. "Ready?"


    "Yep!" Astrid replied, her tone betraying the icy facade she had worn all of a sudden.


    Motioning with his head, Arthur told her to follow him. Falling closely in line, she started to follow right in his footsteps. His room was at the end of a long hallway with only two other rooms inside it. As they walked through this hallway, Astrid looked up, taking in the incoherent and antique designs carved into the roof itself. The slimmer of light illuminating the designs confused her even further.


    "Curious?" Arthur asked, looking back.


    "Kind of, hehe." She replied, sheepishly as she scratched the back of her neck. "I mean, you know¡ª after all, I still don''t know much about you. Or anything related to you." She voiced out, looking down. "Even though it seems like you know all about me."


    Arthur didn''t stop. But instead, he looked up at the ceiling with a meek smile. "What''s the fun in me telling you by myself?" He replied, the smile never leaving his lips as Astrid focused her gaze on him. Tilting his head, he looked back at her. "If you REALLY want to know, you just have to ask the right questions."


    "Then what is that you¡ª" Astrid paused, swallowing a dry lump of saliva and then composed herself. She didn''t want to act out of bounds. While it was true there were no boundaries set by Arthur, despite being in an inferior position, she knew what was right and what was wrong. After all, she had suffered since her childhood, she absolutely refused to let go of the only human who felt like home due to her own stupid curiosity. "¡ªit''s nothing."


    "You know I will answer. Anything that you''ll ask." Arthur replied, his voice soft. "Even if I think you''re better off not knowing that aspect. I promised you something that day, didn''t I?"


    A pang went across her chest. Her memory flashed to 2 years ago. Bits. Small bits of it. Flashes of her memories she had chosen not to seal away. Shaking her head, she got rid of those thoughts.


    "I know. And I am thankful you took me in. Even though you were still just a kid." She spoke. There was a slight tremble in her voice, followed by a light-hearted chuckle. "I mean, you¡ªwe¡ªstill are. But you get what I mean."


    Smiling in return, Arthur nodded. "I know. So-" he paused, letting Astrid recollect her attention and direct it towards him. "-whenever you are ready, you can ask me. What am I¡ªus. My family. Anything."


    Astrid stopped just at the corner of the long hallway, making Arthur come to a quick stop as well.


    "I think it does not matter." She replied, raising her head which made the loose hair protruding from the backside of her cap bounce upwards with a silky jiggle. "No matter what it is. You, your family. Your past. Everything. It has nothing to do with me. And nothing you did, or happened to you in the past has anything to do with me." The icy facade melted away only for a single second, flashing a smile. "All that matters is the present. You took me in when I was left by everyone. Labelled as a bad omen." Her right eye lit up due to the streak of sunlight suddenly flashing through the window that led to the lawn outside. "And no amount of subservience could ever pay for it."


    Arthur hummed. "You make it sound as if I had turned you into a slave."


    Astrid''s lips curved into a sly smile. "Well, aren''t I a slave? You just refuse to make good use of me."


    Arthur cocked his head. "Well, I will try to work you to the bone next time."


    The seriousness in his voice made the colour pale from her face. "Ahah¡ªhaha... wait, you are not serious about it, right?!"


    "Why wouldn''t I be? Of course I''m going to fulfil my only friend''s deepest wish." Arthur replied with amusement.


    "AAGH¡ª Nooooo~" With a crestfallen look, her shoulders drooped down.


    "Well, if it ain''t Arthur." A foreign voice interrupted all of a sudden. "Our cute little runaway brother." The man who had spoken emerged from the other side of the wall was just as tall as Arthur, however, one look at his face and one could tell he was much older than him. "''Sup pookie."


    "Don''t call me that, Eric." Arthur spoke as he took in a breath, not even looking at him.


    "Still giving the cold shoulder to your older brother, eh?" Eris retorted in a playful manner, extending his hands in a wide shrug. Just like Arthur, he had inherited alternating features from his parents, albeit totally opposite to Arthur, since Eric had his mother''s golden blonde hair and his father''s green eyes. He was about 3 inches taller than Arthur, standing at about 188 cm or 6''2''''. "Man, you never change, oh?" His attention flicked to the side. "Ah, you. How are you, Ashley?"


    "It''s Astrid."


    "Of course, Astrid, yes!" He smacked his lips. "That is what I said. Did you hear something else?"


    "Of course not. It''s just me being a little under the weather." Astrid replied, not bowing, but keeping her head a touch lower than usual.


    "Oh? Man, you ought to take care of yourself." Eric commented and then walked towards Arthur. Placing his hand over Arthur''s shoulder, he looked him in the eye. "I am just a few steps away from your room. If you ever feel like it¡ª"


    "I won''t."


    "Huh?"


    "I won''t feel like it, so don''t feel bothered. I won''t be coming." Arthur removed his hand from his shoulder as a rather sad look appeared on Eric''s face.


    "I see¡­ Well, you know, just in case, if hell ever froze over, you know where to find me. I am always down for some quality bonding time." Ruffling Arthur''s hair which was replied with a suppressed groan from Arthur due to the ruined hairstyle he had spent so much time on, Eric stooped lower and slipped something into Arthur''s pocket. Lowering towards his little brother''s ear, he whispered something before trudging away.


    As he walked away, the echo of footsteps decreasing to pin drop silence, Astrid''s heel made the next series of clipping sounds. "It was my first time meeting your brother¡­ well, anyone other than your father."


    "Hmm. Yeah. I am not very fond of him." Arthur groaned as he tried to correct his hair back.


    "Ehhh? Why? He sounds like a sweet brother to you."


    "It''s just¡ª" Arthur bit his words, however, after a moment, decided to say them anyway. "¡ªhe''s just annoying. I don''t like people such as him."


    "But why?"


    "If anything feels too good to be true, it most likely is." Arthur replied, gently knocking with his index finger on Astrid''s forehead.


    "Oww¨C" Rubbing it, she looked up at him, almost baring her fangs at him.


    "Well, anyways, I think we should go." Disregarding the evil aura that surrounded Astrid as she conspired to attack Arthur, he spoke, taking his phone out of his pocket. "The sun will be up for only 5 hours today. I hope you can look around enough in that time."


    "EHHHH!? ONLY FIVE HOURS!?" She blurted, her voice echoing in the eerily silent ambiance of the Olvasens'' main manor. "We have to leave, Arthur. RIGHT NOW!" Panicking, she grabbed him by his arm before bolting out.


    As they were leaving, Arthur sneakily slipped his hand into his pocket and took the thing out that Eric had slipped into his pocket. It was in a small wrapping with a note. He looked down at the balloon-like object wrapped in a light pink packing.


    ''Didn''t know they sell individual balloons as well.'' Arthur mused to himself.


    Looking down at the note, he read it, mentally.


    {Here''s some contraception from your big bro, teehee~}


    His brow twitched as he realised what it was.


    This bastar¡ª


    ¡ª--------------------------------


    ¡ª10:11 am¡ª


    As the car came to a screeching halt, Astrid bolted out of the car with a speed that even surprised Arthur. Shaking his head with an amused smile, Arthur looked to the side, at his driver. "You can go. Thanks for the lift."


    "Should I stay here? The house is quite some distance away from here." The driver replied, pulling his cap downwards.


    "That would be unnecessary." Arthur shook his head. As he opened the door, he saw Astrid looking around with wide eyes and suppressing the urge to run off into the first bakery that was just across the street. However, he slid back into his seat. "Here, take this." Arthur spoke as he handed an envelope to the driver. "It''s your anniversary, right?"


    The man''s eyes widened. "-yes. How did you¡­"


    "Doesn''t matter." Arthur shrugged, his face not betraying a single expression. "And don''t think much about it. Neither is gratitude needed." He spoke as he reopened the door and looked back. "Take today''s day off."


    "Yes sir!" The driver replied with a wide grin, saluting. Once Arthur had left the car and shut the door behind him, the car''s tires skidded before rushing off in a straight line.


    "You sure are a softie." Astrid commented, looking over his shoulder. "You never said something about someone like him."


    Arthur shrugged. "Probably because he was not worth mentioning." He spoke as he saw the car take a sharp right turn before disappearing from his sight. "Despite being my personal driver for years, I still don''t know his name, after all."


    "Ughhh¨C" Astrid groaned. "I''ll take it back."


    "Knew you would." Arthur cracked a grin. "No way I''d know about Emil''s name. Too hard to remember."


    "Just when I thought you cared about someon¡ª wait! You do remember his name!" She pointed her finger at him.


    "Hmm? Do I? Are you sure you are not hearing things?"


    Astrid narrowed her eyes. "I think that''s what is happening. I am just hearing things. Definitely didn''t hear that the driver''s name is Emil."


    "That is a worrisome subject. Should we go back?"


    "Don''t you dare think about that!" She snapped as Arthur shrugged.


    "Fine¡ª don''t talk so loudly." Arthur spoke, taking a step back from her night-rampaging form as he noticed multiple people looking at them.


    "Whatever." She stomped her feet. "Now I am angry. I want to eat something."


    "Didn''t you just had breakfast enough for 3 peop¡ªouch." The elbow that landed into Arthur''s ribs made him shut his mouth up instantaneously, however, the tone of his exclamation did not quite reach the sentiment behind it.


    "Hmph. Never point it out to a lady that she''s eating a lot." She huffed, folding her hands.


    "That is quite an inconceivable course of action." Arthur shot back, rubbing his side. I suppose there is no arguing with women. All of them are the same. "Anyways, there are 18 bakeries in total. Do you have anything specific in mind?" Arthur asked.


    "Hmm. As you can guess, I did come prepared, but reviews won''t help. Since you spent most of your life here, I will leave it up to you."


    Arthur tilted his head, a tremor going down his spine as he suddenly looked at a blank point in the sky. "Hmm. I might have something planned." He spoke and took the lead.


    After that, Arthur and Astrid walked down the cobblestone walls. Bergen was the second largest city in Norway, after its capital, Oslo¡ªwhich was also the base of operations for the Seven Syndicates. The Fjords were the prime reason for the attraction of this place and Bergen was the first city where the Olvasens'' made their first main encampment, after wandering off the distant lands.


    Due to this, instead of living inside the Capitol, generation upon generations of Olvasens have lived and grown up in Bergen, before moving out. Other than the family head, of course, who was bound to stay back at their home city and look after the family accolades.


    The cold smell of fish filled the air as Arthur and Astrid walked down the roads. Heaps upon heaps of Cod and Stockfish were lined along the Brygges, which were the beeline along the lakes connecting to the sea.


    Astrid was like a little child, looking at everything with stars in her eyes. Despite it being a simple city, in comparison to Hammerfest¡ªwhich was her birth city¡ªshe was still drawn towards everything it had to offer. The houses along the line were mostly traditional in structure. Since this place was a bit far from the main market, the ambience of the old times still lingered here, untouched by the modernity.


    "Arthur- I just noticed something!"


    "Hmm?" Arthur hummed, shaking his head as he looked up from his phone. There was a frown on his face, albeit for a split second, as it vanished in an instant. "What?"


    "The houses." She pointed at one of the houses with her finger that had red paint on its ceiling. "It''s just like those little house-thingies we have in Monopoly!"


    "Monopoly?" Arthur tilted his head. "Is that the board game you keep talking about?"


    Astrid was dumbfounded. "You are joking, right?" She stammered. "You seriously don''t know anything about Monopoly? Even after I played it in front of you with my friends at Hammerfest?"


    "I think I have told you this many times before." Arthur spoke as a matter-of-factly. "Besides, I don''t have any will to look at what you have been doing with your friends."


    "No, you absolutely did no-" she paused, as if remembering something. "-you said you were not interested. Not that you never played it!"


    "Same thing. Tomato, tomato." Arthur retorted, switching accents as he did.


    "Seriously-" Astrid sighed, "-once we have something to eat, I am buying it. And you are definitely playing it with me."


    "Not a chance." Arthur clicked the top of his mouth with his tongue.


    "We''ll see about that." She looked the other way, and then raised her face towards the sky. Removing her cap, she let the wind make her hair flutter like a flag. "Hmmm~ It''s so warm today."


    "It''s 0 degrees. Not really warm," Arthur remarked, glancing down at his phone. "But it''s just warm comparatively," he added, trying to lighten the mood.


    Groaning in mock exasperation, Astrid rolled her eyes before darting off with a playful smile. "You really know how to suck the fun out of everything."


    Arthur watched her go for a moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket, his own smile barely perceptible. As her back got increasingly smaller and smaller, Arthur took in a deep breath, his mind wandering off to somewhere. A conversation in particular.


    ¡ªThere''s something wrong about to happen.


    ¡ªOk?


    ¡ªI know you have no interest in associating with me, but for once, hear me out. I might be on the opposing side, but I have never once, not even a single time, wanted to bring harm on you. Art¨C Arthur, believe me. Just this once.


    ¡ªYour words are not credible. Besides, you have no way of confirming it.


    ¡ªI do. Have you forgotten who we have allied with?


    ¡ª ¡­


    ¡ªI am not asking anything of you. Just¡­ just stay safe, okay?


    ¡ªThanks for the unnecessary heads up. I am busy now, sadly.


    ¡ªMhmm¡­ Take care Arth-


    As the evil premonition hung like a sword over his head, Arthur sighed. Astrid stopped after running so far that Arthur was barely visible now. She looked back, as she saw Arthur insert his hands into his coat''s pockets and look at the water body beside him.


    A frown formed on her face. We only have so little time left and he''s looking at the sea!? "Arthu¨C" Before she could talk, Arthur stepped behind her, pulling her by her arm. The sudden tug made her fall on his chest as he held her firmly.


    "Don''t shout my name."


    "..." As he stared down at her with a piercing look, a rosy pink hue formed on her cheeks as she clung on to his chest in a rather weird position, unable to remain standing. Averting her eyes, she looked down at the soft fabric against which she was pressed. "Fine-"


    A flutter drew Arthur''s attention away from the blonde nestled against his chest. A bird¨Ca dipper with its distinctive white throat elegantly soared overhead, gliding towards one of the many mountains that surrounded the city, stuck in the distance.


    "Somfin on yher mind?" Astrid''s voice muffled from his chest, glanced at his side profile curiously.


    Arthur kept his gaze fixed on the distant peaks far out into the distance.


    "The mountains." his eyes finally shifted to meet her own. "I want to go to the mountains."


    Her look of confusion intensified, before transforming into shock, her eyes widening in disbelief as she processed his words, eliciting a quizzical raised eyebrow from the boy.


    "What now-"


    "The mountains?! You wanna go to the mountains!?" Excitement grew after each syllable Astrid spoke.


    "Yeah? They''re pretty, I guess." He takes a moment to point toward the largest mountain in the range. "Ulriken, I want to go there. "


    Astrid hurriedly pushes herself free out of Arthur''s embrace before staring at him with suspicion.


    "The Arthur Olvasen wishes to go out to do something that isn''t laze around or following orders?!" She exclaimed theatrically, as her eyes began to study every feature of Arthur in an exaggerated manner. "Who are you, and what have you done with Arthur!"


    Arthur shrugged his shoulders, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Despite how it may seem, I am still capable of feeling and wanting to do things."


    Astrid rapidly nodded her head, as if processing this revelation. "Hmm. Hmm. Well¡­" With a skip in her step, she seized Arthur''s sleeve, dragging him along with her. "Let''s go to the mountains then!"


    A small smile tugged on the corners of Arthur''s lips.


    "Let''s."


    (*********)


    ¡ªSIMPSON DESERT, AUSTRALIA¡ª


    16 September, 2023 ¡ª 5 pm.


    "Woooohoooooooooooooooooooo¡ª"


    The joyous scream of a teenager echoed in the entirety of the Simpson desert as a "Sand Dune Buggy" moved up and down rigorously.


    His raven black hair moved up and down, losing their natural lustre due to the grains of sand resting atop his head. Despite the kicking sand, he was not wearing any goggles, his eyes unperturbed by the unholy amounts of sand entering it.


    "Arghh¨C Master Finn- please slow down."


    The man sitting behind him cried out. The boy in question was the heir to the Andersons¡ªMediators of every Arcanum user in Oceania and one of the Seven Syndicates. They were also the ones who were in a long standing partnership with the Whites and Olaniyans.


    Still driving the buggy on full throttle, Finn looked back, grains of sand resting on his long black lashes as a sinister look formed in his unsettlingly murky black eyes. Turning the handle to the extreme right, the entire buggy teetered to the side, before making the man fall down as Finn applied a break at the same time, saving himself.


    As the man fell down in the sand, he immediately stood up, coughing out sand.


    "Haha! Oi, fair dinkum, Trev mate, reckon you''re really a guardian? Bwahaha-" As Finn''s laughter boomed, the guardian¡ªTrev let out an awkward cough.


    "Please, Sir Finn, you can''t keep doing this. Sir Blake is going to kill me if something happens to you." Trev complained with a whine. "And besides, the thought of you getting hurt pains me." He spoke, dusting off his clothes. He was, after all, his guardian since birth.


    "Calm down, Trev." Finn gestured dismissively. "Something as trivial as this is not enough to put even a dent on me." He smirked. "The demon king himself has to crawl out of Eden to stand a chanc¡ª"


    As if answering his call, his words were cut short as the bedrock beneath all the sand dunes fractured open with a guttural roar, resembling the hungry jaws of a monster mentioned in fairy tales.


    Sediment and sand cascaded into the seemingly bottomless depths of its gaping maw.


    The huge void shifted, revealing rows upon rows of jagged teeth-like protrusions, instantly shifting towards Finn''s buggy.


    With a swift tug, Trev yanked Finn away, hurling him aside just as the monstrous jaws caught up to them. They managed to tumble away from the buggy, but their respite was short-lived.


    The gnashers that moved like the frenzied rotation of a washing machine''s agitator, tore into the vehicle with terrifying speed. In mere moments, the buggy was reduced to shrapnel, shredded to bits and pieces.


    Before Finn could blink, Trev was sucked into the huge maw as the creature inhaled, his form torn asunder.


    As if placed inside a butchering machine, his blood, flesh, and pulverised bone were hurled into a whirlwind within the gaping maw, before being consumed entirely by its insatiable hunger.


    Finn''s brows twitched involuntarily as a surge of adrenaline flooded his veins, his heart pounding so violently it felt as though it might burst from his chest. He could feel the beating of his heart into his ears, dread coiling in the pit of his stomach as a cold grip tightened around his insides.


    Time felt as if it had slowed down to a crawl, each heartbeat echoing in his ears like a war drum. The sight of Trev''s body being torn apart before his very eyes sent shivers down Finn''s spine, a primal, unrestrained fear clawing at the edges of his consciousness.


    A sense of helplessness washed over him, overwhelming any semblance of courage or bravado he had mustered moments before. The realisation of his own mortality struck him like a thunderbolt, rendering him momentarily paralyzed as he grappled with the sheer terror of the situation.


    For an agonising heartbeat, like stuck in a static void, Finn was frozen in place, his mind reeling with disbelief and horror.


    But as the vortex of destruction neared him, instinct kicked in. Arcanum flared outwards like compressed gas and then ignited with an almost sentient roar. His hair flew upwards and his eyes glowed in a dark shade of crimson as Arcanum flowed through every node inside his body.


    Finn ground his molars together until the sound reverberated in his skull, a futile attempt to drown out the chaos raging within him. His gaze lifted upward, but his vision was blurred by tears that welled up, distorting the world around him into a hazy blur of agony and despair.


    The loss of his guardian, one who had raised him since he was born, ignited a rage deep within his soul. It burned with an intensity that threatened to consume his very being, eclipsing all other emotions.


    Memories flooded his mind, a torrent of moments shared with the figure that was like his father, now ripped away to shreds.


    Up until now the monster was only attacking by placing its mouth underneath the sand, however, as soon as the first wave of offensive Arcanum hit the monster, it let out a primal roar and revealed its entire body. The caterpillar-like monster was more than 30 feet long, being able to not only crawl but stand up right.


    The countless wiggling arms on the side gleamed with an otherworldly sheen, their appearance more akin to metallic weapons than mere appendages. As if fueled by some arcane power, Arcanum manifested around Finn like a shimmering aura, crackling with energy and ominous intent.


    With a menacing lurch, its gaping maw moved forward to consume Finn in one fell swoop.


    In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. And as the jaws of oblivion drew nearer, Finn swallowed hard.


    Raising the index and middle fingers of his right hand and conjuring a swirling holographic structure resembling a stretched oval, he compressed the hologram between his hands.


    In a split second, the worm''s form contorted upon itself, undergoing a catastrophic collapse as if subjected to the forces of extreme distortion. The implosion unleashed a cacophonous explosion, reverberating through the desert.


    Fragments of the worm''s disintegrated form dispersed into the atmosphere, dispersing in a chaotic pattern. As the amethyst liquid that was its blood rained down, it tainted the golden sands of the desert with hues of dark amethyst, followed by a nauseating stench.


    Inside the crimson glow of his eyes, more and more tears welled up as he fell to the ground. Scooping up fistfuls of sand, he hurtled them at the dead monster again and again, like a child throwing a tantrum. He continued this until he could feel the burning sand chip away at his skin.


    As he began walking towards the dead monster''s body, something flashed in his mind.


    ''A Grade C monster¡­ I think I read about it in one of the books in dad''s library.''


    He thought. However, while he was just a step away from the monster, another worm, albeit much smaller this time attacked him from behind. His Arcanum blipped out of existence before appearing right behind the worm.


    ¡¸Phase 1 ¡ª Axis Inverse¡¹


    Like a compass suddenly going haywire, the worm''s senses were suddenly disoriented before snapping back to attack Finn as its entire body was flipped upside down.


    Like a gun, he pointed his fingers at the worm.


    ¡¸Phase 2 ¡ª Collapse¡¹


    Just like the first one, its entire body collapsed on itself.


    Adam''s Annihilation Type Arcane Arts.


    7 of these highly destructive arts that were capable of destroying cities in mere seconds, were passed down generation after generation by the Seven Syndicates via a Blood Contract. Those Arcane Arts were then broken down in countless Phases, depending on application and potency.


    And the Andersons were no exception.


    Even though they did not fare well against the upper three¡ªWhites, Mirandas and Olvasens¡ªtheir Arcane Arts was something that was feared by the people of Eden.


    The exact reason why humans were targeted all hundreds of thousands, if not millions of years ago.


    The Andersons'' Arcane Arts was ¡¸Axis Manipulation.¡¹


    Born with an innate talent to manipulate the three mathematical axes of almost anything inside this 3D world, they were able to bend it to their whims. However, of course, the limitation was one''s understanding of the intricacies and the amount of Arcanum stored inside the node situated in the heart.


    The ¡¸Phase 1¡¹simply changed the Axis of Existence. If an object exists and is moving in a horizontal axis or simply put, in an X-Axis, he was able to flip the X-Axis over, or transition the object or living thing from X to the vertical dimension.


    The difference between Phase 1 and Phase 2, however, was much more than what one could conceive. Even after 17 years of his life, Finn was only able to grasp two Phases of this esoteric Arcane Art. But the current situation was just fine.


    ''These are on the lower end of the spectrum when it comes to strength.''


    He was right.


    These underground worms only held the advantage because of their size and numbers.


    I won''t let his sacrifice go in vain¡­


    Finn wiped his tears, pushing away the trembling sensation to the back of his head. He didn''t want to think. It was too complicated for him to wrap his head around it anyways. All he could do was avenge his guardian¡ªTrev.


    The ground beneath his feet trembled violently as more and more worms started to sprout out. As their forms extended upwards, towards the sky, Finn could only look at them with his rapidly beating heart. Despite all this, he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins.


    He was indeed Adam''s descendant after all. Someone who had carried his legacy in his veins. The more he used his Arcane Arts, the more he felt a liberating sensation. Although, this feeling, at the moment, was suppressed by a crushing sense of loss and despair.


    Pushing away all the sadness to the side, Finn let out a long breath. The next moment, his bloodlust seeped out of his body tangibly, making the worms paralyse in place.


    The next instant he activated the same Art again. Phase 2 or Collapse was something on an entirely different level than Phase 1. Even though the mechanics were simple enough.


    Using his Arcanum, he was able to form a jarring discordance, collapsing the axes of existence¡ªX, Y and Z¡ªon themselves. It was a bit more complex than just collapsing them¡ªsince it was caused actually by the chaos formed between the three dimensions due to the variable known as his Arcanum¡ªbut the general outcome was the same.


    Lowering down his stance, he scowled at them, his heart fluttering, forming a weird dichotomy. "Come at me, ya bloody disgusting, stinkin'' maggots."


    And while Finn was busy taking his anger out on the worms, multiple other sightings were observed all over the world. The world was changing. The time for the great merger was approaching. It was just as Blake had said.


    The long winter was approaching.


    In the Bleak Midwinter- only the strong would prevail.


    ************

 6: A Crooked Bunch.

    ¡ª17 September 2023¡ª


    "Quick, Finn, Pack your bags!" Blake''s voice boomed like the aftershock of a distant thunder, prompting his son to get ready at a moment''s notice. The beads of sweat that lined his forehead glistened like diamonds over his pale skin underneath the bright lighting, a morbid sensation welling up in the pits of his stomach.


    Finn, however, had his eyes cast down as he merely nodded and moved towards his room. Picking his bag up, he started to throw in the bare minimum¡ªa few clothes, a brush and a comb¡ªinto it and then quickly picked it up before flinging it around his shoulder.


    "Hurry- Hurry up! We ought to leave for Fjellborg Castle pronto. There is an emergency meeting." His father''s voice rose once again as he turned around, "You only got five minutes. No dilly-dallying, alright?" His tone mellowed out before straightening the crease over shirt. "Don''t make me wait."


    Finn nodded as Blake vanished from his sight. Following right after, he walked over to the main door that led outside. Letting out a deep breath, Finn took his phone out. Tapping a few times over it, he took a key out of his pocket. ''His family should be alright- I guess. I don''t think we will be returning here anyways.''


    As Finn was about to leave, his gaze drifted to the left, drawn irresistibly to something nestled beside the landline on the small table.


    A single photograph, suspended delicately by a thread affixed to the wall, captured his attention. Laying a gentle hand upon it, he removed the thin layer of dirt that had accumulated over it. Finn''s lips curved upward in a subdued, meek smile.


    "Sometimes," he murmured softly to himself, his voice a mere whisper against the quiet of the now empty house, "I am happy you don''t have to bear with him anymore." With a gentle exhale, Finn''s teeth dug into his trembling lower lip.


    With a final, wistful glance, Finn reluctantly tore himself away, his fingers trailing reluctantly over the photograph''s surface. With a heavy heart, he closed the door behind him, leaving behind a silent echo.


    "Hurry up!" Blake impatiently prompted.


    Crouching down, Finn placed the key underneath the furry mat before bolting towards his father. The sound of a helicopter''s blades moving and the strong winds blowing filled the courtyard as Finn ran towards it and hopped onto it.


    As soon as Finn was inside, Blake motioned with a thumbs up to the driver and the helicopter started to take off.


    "Dad-" Finn spoke, putting the aviation headsets over his ears. "-can you at least explain what is happening?"


    "The fuck would I know?" Blake snapped back. Evening out the deep frown on his forehead, he let out a frustrated groan. "-there''s something wrong, that is all I know." He spoke, looking down at the wide area that their house covered. "All over the world-no, not exactly all over. Specifically targeting Arcanum users, there are appearances of either pre-historic things¡ªanimals¡ª and monsters."


    "But nothing happened to you." Finn replied. "Or around you."


    "Guess it was only around those with weak Arcanum signatures." Blake spoke with a shrug, the hastiness and subtle, morbid fear washing out of his pale face.


    "Does that mean¡­ even Mich¨C"


    "Yeah, everyone." Blake replied, slipping back into his seat.


    Finn swallowed back a dry lump of saliva. "What about them? Is Michael ok? Dotun-"


    Blake shifted. "Don''t worry yourself about Michael." He said as he straightened his back again and sat straight into his seat. "It was a one sided massacre for him." Blake spoke with a scoff. "That boy has a few screws loose anyways. Proper crackhead."


    A smile crept up on Finn''s lips. Heaving out a relieved breath, Finn spoke. "That''s Michael alright." As he said that, his own mind wandered off to someone else. "Err- What about those Olvasens?"


    Clicking his tongue, Blake looked the other way. "He survived." He spoke, his moods undulating like the turbulent winds blowing that made the helicopter move in a rather zig-zag way. "Although, even though they won, in their battle, a big chunk of the city was flattened." A smirk formed on his face. "It might be a show of power, but their main city of residence has suffered such a huge blow. They will be vulnerable now."


    Finn narrowed his eyes. "I might be wrong but¡­" He paused, thinking over his words. "...since it seems this whole thing has some sort of connection to Eden, shouldn''t we stay together? United, I mean?"


    Blake looked at Finn in his eyes. "You are still a kid. But since things are changing I will let you know." A rather ominous chill ran down Finn''s spine. "Hear this, loud and clear. Despite the Whites clearly holding the most strength, why do you think they have never tried to monopolise what the Olvasens have, just like how they did with others?"


    "Is it because they are equally strong?"


    "That, yes, but strength isn''t the only answer." Blake corrected. "They are overwhelmingly evil. The Whites don''t come close to the pure deviousness they have shown underneath their facade of neutrality." The words were accentuated further by the thundering clouds in the distance. "They probably flattened out their own city to send a statement to others. To us, not the ones on the other side." The stormy clouds started to cast dark shadows that extended eerily due to the angle at which it was flying. "But¡­ something about all of this tells me they didn''t do it this time."


    "Aren''t you contradicting yourself?"


    "That is the point. Because they are known for how evil they are, especially the recent 2 generations, there is a natural inclination for everyone to think it was their handiwork. But- what if they actually had a hard time? They might be getting weak."


    Finn frowned. "I understand you hate their guts, or maybe almost everyone does, but why would we attack them? I am sure they still have combat prowess."


    "It''s often necessary to nip the evil in the bud." Blake replied and shrunk back. "If this world becomes lawless, and the Whites and Olvasens fight each other at their full strength with no restraint on the amount of Arcanum available¡­ only the Gods can help us then. That is exactly why we need to take one of them out of the equation."


    "Dad, I don''t think it is a good idea. I don''t get along with Arthur, yes, and I sometimes hate his overly cocky demeanour, but I somehow have a bad feeling about this."


    Blake tilted his head. Seeing his son complain so steadfastly again and again made him rethink it. "Nothing is decided yet. This is yet another course of action we have been discussing with the Whites and Olaniyans for a very long time now."


    "I see¡­" Finn''s voice was drowned out by the exploding sound of lightning falling somewhere below, igniting a small spark into the lush green pelt below.


    ¡ªA day ago¡ª


    ¡ªBergen - 16 September 2023 - 19:00¡ª


    "Rock to climb, sun''s aglow, Uppsie lupsie, in a row! With every step, our spirits grow, Uppsie lupsie, off we throw!" Astrid hummed happily, walking up a steep mountain.


    "The sun has been down for ages now." Arthur complained as he walked ahead of her, a huge, human sized bag strapped to his shoulders. The bag was filled completely, evident from the multiple objects poking from every corner of the tightly packed hiking bag.


    "Aww, come on!" Astrid complained. "Don''t be such a downer. I am trying to cheer you up."


    "It''s working." Arthur replied dismissively, obvious disdain in his voice.


    "Hey, don''t sound so grumpy. It was your idea to visit Ulriken." She stated as a matter-of-factly. "For whatever odd reason that might be though. I thought you hated hordes of people flocking around you."


    Arthur turned his head sideways, his brownish blonde hair frolicking by the sudden gust of wind that slapped his face. "It''s one of the most rainy times here." He replied as he walked in a straight line on the steep, rocky path. "Hence it means that there would be next to no visitors here." He explained as ran his fingers through his hair. "Foreigners at least. Something like this won''t stop the locals."


    A laugh escaped Astrid''s lips. "Haha! Yep. If anything, bad weather would call more locals out here¨C" Astrid paused, looking up. Something- something odd clicked in her mind. Something she couldn''t really make sense of, nor could think of any plausible, even implausible, to explain whatever she had just thought of. "Wait- Arthur. Didn''t you say it is the time when it rains the most?"


    "Uhh, yeah¡­?"


    "The clouds are there, but it''s not raining."


    "Lucky us." Arthur replied with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.


    "Hmmm." Astrid hummed. "Very sus."


    "Sus?" Arthur didn''t stop to look back but the odd word made him slow his speed down as he pondered over it.


    "Suspicious, duh-" Rolling her eyes, she replied, as it was the most obvious thing. "But I still don''t get it. Why the Ulriken mountain in specific? I mean, I still like that I get to visit some good places, but, you know, I just want to hear it out."


    "Ulriken mountain is a good choice for first timers into Bergen due to its stunning views, diverse hiking trails, and adventure activities available. It offers a unique opportunity to connect with nature and explore the beauty of Bergen''s surroundings making any visit extremely enjoyable and memorable. Also because it is the tallest out of the seven mountains here in Bergen."


    "Huuuuuhhhhhh!?" Letting out a loud voice that echoed back, she squinted her eyes. "That seems like reading straight out of a blog written with an AI."


    Arthur''s body froze. The sudden stoppage made Astrid bump into his back¡ªthe bag¡ªher head hitting against something hard inside the bag. Coming to a sudden, abrupt halt, her weight shifted backwards. Flailing her hands around, her middle section moved back and forth like a wobbling jellyfish before pulling on the bag strapped to his back.


    "Whew, that was close¡­" Wiping the beads of sweat with an exaggerated gesture, she spoke, looking to the side of the track as a few pebbles fell down the edge and the voice of their falling¡ªhitting something¡ªreverberated after a solid six seconds. "Yeah- totally wasn''t living that¡­"


    "Watch where you are going."


    "Don''t talk like it wasn''t your fault!" She pointed her finger at him, however, he was already gone, running upwards at top speed.


    "Try not to fall too far behind."


    "Urgh¨C Aaaaarthurrrr- uuuu.. don''t leave me alone." She complained, whining out loud as she ran to the best of her ability after him, tears already forming in the corner of her eyes. "You know I am scared of being alone¡­" she mumbled the last part under her breath, her words carried away by the wind.


    ¡ª-------------


    Huddled along the rocky face of the mountain, a natural platform jutted out from the rugged terrain. Its surface was weathered by the changing seasons, although it was still solid enough to provide a solid foundation to step foot on. The rocky platform was on the opposite side of the mountain, a place where not many visitors step foot.


    Despite the eerie atmosphere, this small outcrop of rock, devoid of any man-made structure, possessed an undeniable raw beauty. With enough space to accommodate a handful of people, the stone platform that seemingly just levitated in the air while barely being attached to the main body of the mountain, it offered an intimate setting.


    Perched high above the valley below, the platform afforded an unparalleled view of the surrounding wilderness. Though darkness cloaked the nearby lake, its presence was felt in the gentle rustle of the wind and the distant murmur of unseen waters.


    Facing away from the city and the nearest tourists'' inn, the platform offered a sense of isolation.


    The rocky surface of the platform was littered with scattered pine needles and fallen leaves.


    *huff huff* Huffing out loud, Astrid''s chest heaved with exertion as she took in deep breaths, her lungs burning from the strain of the climb.


    Each heavy breath that she took carried the crisp scent of pine and damp earth, as her exhales came out in wisps of mist that formed a lofty cloud and then dissipated like smoke into the air.


    She leaned against a nearby boulder, feeling the rough texture against her sweaty palms, the coolness a welcome relief against her flushed skin despite the sudden, frigid fall in the temperature.


    Arthur stood a few feet away, his gaze fixed on the small lake that was just beneath them. His figure was silhouetted against the fading light of the torch in Astrid''s hand, like a solitary figure amidst the rugged landscape. Despite the distance between them, Astrid felt a chill run down her spine as she observed the look in his eye, equally horrifying and serene at the same time. As if he was reliving a bad dream.


    "Arthur," she called out between breaths, her voice barely above a whisper.


    He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. "What is it?"


    She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach him. His detachment, while being a natural thing to her, was unnerving in the current moment, his presence like a shadow looming over her. She couldn''t quite understand it. It was his idea. And now that he was acting like this, she couldn''t quite grasp anything.


    "Why did you bring me here?" she finally asked, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "Why this place in particular?" Her gaze softened. "You don''t seem to like this place."


    "Like and dislike." Suppressing a chuckle, he flicked his head, removing his curtains from his eyes. "You should know by now I do not attach significance to fleeting sensations." He replied and then thought over something. "God I sound really edgy."


    "Hehe." A giggle escaped her lips. She stayed silent for a while, pondering over something, deep in thought. "And I know. I know well that you don''t dwell on such things." She paused, letting her words settle in. Settle in on herself rather than someone else. "But since it''s not trivial¡­ perhaps, is this place somewhat important to you? You came back to this place afterall."


    Arthur''s lips quirked up in a faint smile, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "It''s a special place, yes." he replied cryptically, his tone devoid of an outward expression, yet his gaze had a look of unwanted nostalgia in it. "That is why I wanted to come back here at least once with someone special as well."


    A troubling sense of mixed feelings settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Arthur''s demeanour that set her on edge.


    Something that had bothered her for three years, since the day he found¡ªsaved her. A feeling that he was hiding something beneath his normal exterior. "Good to know you hold something close to yourself." She spoke, hugging her knees. She pouted but her expression was overshadowed by the looming shadow above, casting a veil over her features. ''Special¡­'' She thought.


    Arthur''s smile widened, his gaze drifting back to the lake below. "Oh, don''t get me wrong. I hate this place." The warm smile coupled with his words made it sound really unsettling. As he traced his finger along the rough texture of the ground, he plopped down. Facing Astrid, he spoke again. "This is where I found out I was not normal."


    Astrid''s brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of how to interpret his words. There was a darkness lurking behind Arthur''s facade, a sense of danger that made her instinctively wary of him. And yet, despite her misgivings, she couldn''t deny the strange pull she felt. Like a moth to a flame.


    "I don''t get it¡­ you say you hate it but you still came back."


    "Hmmm. Well obviously you won''t understand. No one other than my parents knows about this." He started explaining. "You know how everyone is either born with an Arcane Art or manifests it over time when conditions are just right, yes?"


    That totally has nothing to do with what I asked¡­ "Yep. I know that much. And also the fact that you and your family, for some reason, can''t manifest unique types."


    "Yeah." Arthur nodded. "However, it is not the same for me. My siblings left me alone here¡­" Arthur motioned with his head to the back, where the lake was. "...for a few days when I was a kid. And this is the place that I took refuge in. It was the strong outburst of emotions that forcefully manifested my Arcane Arts."


    "Siblings?"


    "Brother, I mean."Arthur smiled once again as he scooted closer to her.


    "And wait, Arts? Plural?"


    Astrid stared at him for a while, her eyes reminiscent of a clear sky.


    "I will leave some things hanging in the air for your imagination to fill."


    "...I see." She could only mumble those words, the close proximity making a slow, rising wave of heat rush up to her face. Looking away and creating some distance, she managed to get hold of her confident demeanour. "Ehm, so, err, why me?"


    She was happy, to say the least, that he had finally shared something on his own accord. But her mind could not muster up any question other than this, blurting it out.


    Not having enough, Arthur moved closer and pressed his hand against the boulder on which she was leaning against, pinning her in place. A few strands of her hair came loose from the hold, sprawling over her face. Her lips quivered as she looked up at him, his dishevelled hair casting dark shadows over his face. Astrid''s face flushed, unable to say or do anything.


    "What- What the hell? What are you doing?"


    The answer she was hoping, any little whisper she had hoped for never came.


    "Arthur- Hey! What are you doing?!" She squirmed, as she saw his face grow closer and closer to her. There was a personal space that Arthur had always maintained. To see him so close, in this way, was something she was experiencing for the first time. Don''t tell me this is why he brought me to this isolated place¡­


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Placing his hand near her waist, his arm touched it as it sent a shiver down her spine.


    "This is a pretty big cockroach." Arthur spoke as he pulled it from behind her.


    "What are you talkin¨CKYAAAA!" Jumping to her feet, she ran off before stopping just before she was about to fall off the hidden platform they were on.


    Grabbing her by the scruff of her sweater, Arthur pulled her back before throwing the cockroach off the platform. Once she looked over her shoulder and confirmed to herself that it was gone, she fell to the ground with a resigned sigh.


    "God- please, don''t scare me like that."


    "It was the cockroach that scared you. Not me."


    Snapping her eyes back at him, she huffed. "That is not what I meant, but that as well!" Folding her hands beneath her chest, she looked the other way. The air was cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, but refused to look back at him.


    Meanwhile Arthur had his hand on his lips, amused, but refused to show it. For some reason watching Astrid get flustered in this way was oddly enjoyable. As she was still facing the other way, Arthur walked in front of her and crouched down.


    "Sorry." He apologised, simply. There was no haunting premonition behind his words this time. Just a genuine apology. Yet, Astrid continued to look away, squirming uncomfortably.


    "You know I am scared of bugs. Don''t joke about them again, please."


    He can see my face¡­ it''s definitely red¡­


    Arthur crossed his legs and sat in front of her. Pointing his hand to the side, a small spark ignited the pine, forming a small blue flamed campfire. Astrid was about to turn her head towards it, however, Arthur''s words stopped her from doing so.


    "It''s like we are on the edge of a cliff. Waiting to fall." He spoke as he massaged the inside of his palm with his thumb.


    "I mean, we literally are. Although this isn''t exactly a cliff¡­" Astrid''s voice trailed off as she saw Arthur hang his head low enough that his hair completely covered his features. "...what do you mean by that, Arthur?"


    Sighing out loud, he leaned backwards. "It sucks, honestly." Astrid blankly stared at him, his cryptic way of talking and leaving out any details always leaving her half-guessing about every matter. "I loved spending time with you."


    A streak of chilling sensation pierced her chest. Like an icy claw, slowly prickling away at the flesh. She kept her ears open, determined to not leave a single detail- any single sound out.


    Pointing his finger upwards, Arthur''s eyes softened. "The universe has been telling me¡­ brace for impact. A message for you and me. Us." He spoke, his voice getting heavy. "I don''t like responsibilities. I just wanted to spend some more time, like a normal human being, before- I guess it doesn''t matter. Not anymore."


    "Wait, wait, wait¡­ Arthur. This all isn''t making sense. I am still here. I am not going anywhe-" A realisation, or rather, a thought that she had conjured herself popped in her mind like a kernel. "Are you- are you thinking of abandoning me now?" She asked. All she wanted to do at the moment was to cover her ears, for time crawled like a bug for her.


    "I would never do that." Looking upwards, the breeze blew his hair backwards. "Even if hell froze over. But I think our time together might start shrinking." He said as he leaned forward and placed his hand over Astrid''s head, his palm towards the sky.


    A single drop of rain fell in it, followed by the sound of sizzle as another drop dissipated mid-air from the sheer heat of the fire.


    "Arthur¡­"


    "It''s going to start raining soon. And I think that is starting as well." As he spoke, he pulled Astrid back to her feet. Taking his jacket out, he wrapped it around her shoulder. "Whatever happens, do not take it off. And one more thing."


    "Are we going back? Huh? What happened all of a sudden? What is the meaning of all this?"


    He suddenly scooped her face into his palms and squeezed it until she was pouting so hard that she couldn''t talk. "I want you to run as fast as you can. I didn''t think it would arrive so soon, but whatever. Just keep repeating my name in your head." As soon as he said that, Astrid felt as if someone had poked an extremely sleek, wet finger into her ear, and worked its way upwards until she felt a tether inside her brain.


    "Your name¡­ why? What''s wro¡ª"


    Before she could finish her sentence, Arthur pulled her into a hug and then lowered down before a projectile zipped through the air like a missile and then exploded right behind him. The entire platform juddered, a crack running through the thin lining that connected it to the mountain''s main body and the jagged rocks that connected back to the main trekking track.


    As Arthur moved from above Astrid, their eyes flicked upwards. On the summit, there were four people, standing with a few mediaeval weapons in their hands. Their silhouettes were dark, but even though the lighting was poor, there was something very- very wrong about them.


    "Arthur- They don''t¡­ they don''t feel¡­ human?" Astrid seemed to be in a shocked trance, her lithe frame trembling in Arthur''s arms.


    Leaning a bit down, his lips touched the tip of her ears as he whispered. "Don''t make a noise. Run."


    Astrid was about to talk, but she bit her lip. Whatever it was, she definitely could not be of any help. She was self-aware. And she knew that she would be putting Arthur''s life, potentially, on the line if she didn''t listen to him. After all, he had not once said the wrong thing. Her trust in him was ironclad.


    "Oya, oya. What is this? Dwarves on a mountain?" A shrill voice cut through the air that sent a chill down Astrid''s spine.


    So much Arcanum¡­ it''s even more than Arthur¡­


    "Nonsense. Those can''t be dwarves. Forget about the man, even that woman is taller than you!" Another voice, much more¡­ rasp yet feminine this time, spoke up as Astrid subtly shifted, trying to make her way to the nearest support that would lead back to the main trekking track.


    "Ehh? Now that you talk about it, their ears are a bit- wait, Elara. Aren''t their ears a bit¡­strange?"


    The sound of heavy rain making its first impact with the ground resonated as Arthur let go of Astrid''s hand. Her gaze flicked between them and Arthur as with every passing moment their hostility started to manifest like a dome around them, the mere presence of their animosity making her guts flip out. She could feel the bitter taste of bile pushing against the back of her throat.


    "Perhaps a mix-breed? Still they look a bit¡ª" The woman in question¡ªElara¡ªspoke and then suddenly flicked her head towards Astrid. "Stop right there." She commanded, the echo of her voice subdued by the ever increasing rain and howling winds. "Thelesa. Go and confirm her identity."


    The clouds swirled overhead, and with a cracking sound, the first flash of lighting drowned out the ever increasing darkness. It was only one look. But Arthur could tell they were not human.


    The woman who was ordered to check Astrid¡ªThelesa¡ªhad pale skin and long, spear-like ears. Wet jade coloured hair stuck to her shoulders. She was holding a huge bow in her hand and a quiver was strapped to her hip, carrying a few arrows.


    The woman¡ªElara¡ªwho had given the order had a dark-chocolate-like, brown skin, same spear-shaped ears and a glowing- literally glowing shade of white hair. Her golden eyes were visible even after the flash of lightning yielded its short-lived reign over light to the darkness, peering down at Arthur, her fingers slightly firming its grip on the spear in her hand.


    Astrid was petrified in her path. While she had not taken in the features of all four of them, she could tell exactly that her hypothesis was accurate. Since she had the ability to use and perceive Arcanum, she could differentiate between the specific signatures that differentiated humans¡ªherself and Arthur¡ªfrom them.


    And the flash of lightning only served to solidify the notion she had been reluctantly entertaining, which she was dismissing as mere whimsy of her mind. Another flash of lightning split the sky into half, followed by a low rumble of the thunder as the figure in the back focused his eyes on Arthur.


    "This isn''t Silverglade¡­" An utterance¡ªdespite how aged and brittle the timber was¡ªsliced the air. It was the old man that was standing in the rear of the four people group, his eyes wide. His cropped jade-white hair was wet, and the creased skin around his green eyes crinkled even further. "This isn''t Eden. This is¡­ They are¡­ Humans¡­!"


    The whole world came to a sudden standstill. No one moved an inch, each muscle fibre suspended mid-twitch. The sound of his own exhaling flooded Arthur''s ears, and then suddenly the voice was drowned out by the ear splitting cacophony of something exploding underneath and to his left.


    Wobbling to the side, Arthur brought his hand up just in time as he caught an arrow that whistled to his right, just a centimetre away from blowing a hole into Astrid''s head.


    The slowed perception of time returned back to normal as Arthur''s eyes glowed in a pallid shade of grey. Multiple cracks resonated and the platform that Arthur and Astrid were using to stay on for a while broke down.


    Reacting in a flash, Arthur exploded towards Astrid before wrapping her in his arms and tucking her head inwards¡ªagainst his chest¡ªfollowed by his own as he placed his temple over her head right before another arrow whistled past them. Astrid''s hair fluttered wildly in the air for a moment, before Arthur threw her back on the main path.


    "Go. Now." Without looking at her, he spoke, his voice raising just above the normal volume that he used to talk in. Standing up quickly, she started to run, kicking up dirt as she did.


    Spinning on his heel, Arthur extended his arm to the side as Thelesa narrowly bent her back. However, the speed at which Arthur had reacted to her dash towards Astrid was too fast, evident from how she was unable to dodge it and his arm made contact with her neck.


    The forward momentum and the force of his blow made her feet leave the ground before flipping backwards as she was thrown to the ground. Pointed stones that were scattered all over the mountain dug into the exposed back skin, making a yelp escape her lips.


    "Thelesa!" Elara cried out. Faster than which Arthur could react, an arrow¡ªas bright as a bulb¡ªmade its way towards him. The arrow grazed his cheek and then closely nipped away at the tip of his ear, tearing the cartilage.


    He registered the searing sensation of a small portion of his ear blowing away a second later after Thelesa spun her spear in a full 360 while still laying on the ground.


    Clenching his jaw, Arthur folded his leg and plunged his knee into Thelesa''s ribs. The arrow that was fired a moment ago homed back, like a boomerang. Thelesa rolled to the side and narrowly dodged the attack. Arthur''s knee sunk into the rough surface of the mountain, and a crack ran all along the place and extended upwards towards the tip of the mountain.


    "Gah-" A yelp escaped his lips as the homing arrow grazed his hip and then stuck into his calf, making him fall on one knee. Capitalising on the small opening, Thelesa stood up and jumped towards Arthur. Spinning the spear in her hand, she spun around her heel and then made a horizontal slash with it, aimed right at Arthur''s neck.


    To hell with it¡­


    ¡¸Phase 1 ¡¹


    The tip of Thelesa''s weapon bent backwards before exploding on itself. The shrapnel from the exploded metallic tip flew in every direction, except for Arthur''s. Caught off-guard, she jumped backward, trying to create some distance.


    Elara pulled the bowstring and another bright arrow formed from thin air, extending from between her pinched thumb and index finger. Not giving Arthur any time to relax, she fired it.


    Arthur put his hand in front of himself. A translucent, almost invisible force field manifested as it formed an oval shaped dome that bent the individual particles of the light before dissipating it into a swirling mix of photons. The little motes of white were trapped in a small vortex, gradually dimming out before totally being snuffed out.


    "Impossible!"


    "Who is this bastard¡­?!"


    Thelesa and Elara grunted as Arthur took a deep breath and jumped back. The rain was increasing, growing more heavy with every passing second. And despite the rain drenching him, cold sweat rolled down his forehead. Blood streamed down his ear, the thick stream diluted with the rain water as it formed crimson trails over his neck and soaked the scruff of his high neck.


    ''They attacked as soon as the old man said I was a human¡­ haaah¡­ guess there is no other option than to fight¡­''


    Shaking his head, Arthur got rid of the dizziness that was approaching him due to the loss of blood, the edges of his consciousness slowly turning black.


    "Thelesa. Elara." The same old voice spoke, making the two girls look back. Squinting his eyes, Arthur focused on them. Despite the murky dark ambiance around them, now that Arcanum flowed freely inside every inch of his body, Arthur could see everything. The old man, despite having his chest puffed, was quivering, his lips trembling uncontrollably.


    Despite wearing a loose tunic that fully covered his body, Arthur could see the inscribed writings in a foreign language all over his body that were visible every time the wind made his clothes flutter. The entirety of his skin was extremely loose, dangling down like a pendulum in an old clock.


    He doesn''t seem to be shivering from cold or old age¡­ It''s fear, there''s no doubt in that. But fear of what?


    "Keep a level head. This little Mudwalker is that¡ª that man''s descendent!" He spoke, his voice creaking, losing any semblance of power and authority it held. The old man was gazing right into Arthur''s eyes, his mind racing to events. Events that made the very cells inside his body tremble in fear. "That bastard Adam¡­ you are his descendent!"


    "Adam? You mean that Adam, grandpa?" Elara asked, her eyes wide as she alternated her gaze between her grandpa and Arthur.


    The old man looked down at Arthur. "Elara, Thelesa. Fall back into support." He said as the final figure standing there stepped up. "Let Frosti deal with him."


    Getting his cue, Frosti stood a few steps away from Arthur. Standing at well above 2 metres, he towered over Arthur. Arthur looked up at him, and gulped down a dry lump of saliva. Broad shoulders, thick limbs, veins that seemed like the roots of an eldritch tree and extremely well defined blue-grey muscles. The blue skin was complimented with his white beard that reached until his pecs which were completely made out of pure ice.


    "Frost giant." Arthur mouthed.


    "You know about us." Frosti spoke back. His irises were so light coloured that they seemed to almost not exist in the sclera, getting totally camouflaged into it.


    "I have read a few books." Arthur admitted and then looked up. "Eve was said to¡ª"


    Arthur''s provocation was stopped midway as a vein popped on Frosti''s temple just from the mere mention of Adam''s wife''s¡ªEve''s¡ªname. The next moment his mouth opened and a glittering breath rushed towards Arthur. With his hands dangling loosely to the side, Arthur kicked the ground beneath him. The small area of the mountain gave away underneath the sheer force of the Arcanum infused kick, kicking up huge chunks of land.


    The breath collided with the debris, freezing them in the air. As Arthur took in a breath, he felt as if a hot knife was poked into his lungs.


    Powder snow. The breath freezes the target and then secretes powdered snow. He reached to a quick conclusion.


    More Arcanum slipped out of his body as Arthur kicked the frozen objects back at Frosti.


    A shimmering arrow of light zipped from his side and exploded the incoming debris as Thelasa let out a loud battle cry, her spear still in hand. Landing beside Arthur, she raised it over her head before flinging it down like a club. Arthur raised his arm, and blocked it. The force from the blow made his feet sink into the ground.


    His calf which had an arrow pierced it a while ago screamed in agony as the force doubled.


    "I have no idea what you used a while ago, but you will pay for harming my family''s prized weapon."


    "It either wasn''t worthy of being a prized weapon or your family just gave you a fake because you are not worthy." Arthur flicked his gaze towards her as another rush of freezing breath made its way towards him.


    "Filthy mudwalker!" Thelasa screamed as Arthur ducked underneath her overhead slash before crashing his shoulder into her midsection, immobilising any further movement. Her body caved inwards as she spat from the force of the blow. The next instant, Arthur elbowed her throat making her fall to the ground.


    ''Is she young? She''s a dark elf, right? Why is she not using her Arcane Arts¡­?! Or was it because she underestimated me? Hmm- Should I keep her alive? I want to see her Arcane Arts in action.''


    *cough cough*


    Spitting up saliva tinged with lots of blood, she fell to the ground with a muffled thud. As Arthur was about to brab her by her hair, an icy claw gripped his face. The sheer coldness of the touch created a burning sensation against his skin.


    Frosti held him by his face and raised him above the ground before smashing his head back into the ground. The pebbly ground started to become more and more unstable and the rocks that formed its foundation finally gave away.


    Crashing Arthur''s head into the ground once again, Frosti and Arthur were thrown down along with a landslide.


    Elara ran after Thelasa who was still panting from the blow she had received.


    "Thelasa? Thelasa! Are you ok¡­ what happened to you?" Elara spoke with concern, placing her head in her lap.


    Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head. "El¡­"


    "Shush- I will h-heal you. Don''t talk¡­" Elara reassured her. She didn''t want to lose her friend in this way. Her throat bulge was crushed and her vocal chords seemed to have stuck out of somewhere else. A boiling fury whipped up inside Elara as her hand glowed in a bright golden light, trying to heal her up. "Grandpa¡­ she will be fine, right?" She asked her grandpa who was sitting right beside them.


    "She will live." He replied, his tone grim. "But she won''t be able to talk." He continued as he gripped his staff so tightly that his fingers turned pale. "If she''s lucky. Leave this to Frosti. He is able to open Phase 2 of his capabilities. He won''t lose."


    "But grandpa, you just saw what he did to Thelasa. I have to go as well. I have to take revenge."


    "It''s not a matter of magic, child." He spoke, rubbing the bride of his nose. "That mudwalker¡ªhuman -- was just a better fighter. I hate to admit it but¡­ if he wasn''t curious about something that Thelasa possessed, he would''ve killed her right at the start." He paused, letting his words sink in. "However, humans don''t have access to much ambient Arcanum. Not as much as we do. Handling a 600 year old Frost Giant who can unlock Phase 2 is impossible for any human to accomplish. Even if it''s that wretched bastard''s descendent." He spoke as a grin formed on his face. "And interested or not, that human was hesitant in landing the killing blow. He''s not used to killing others."


    "Frosti is only 600?" Elara was dumbfounded. "Grandpa, he is too young. He doesn''t have any real experience as well."


    "He is a human with very low magic. He will die soon enough." The old man reassured. "Leave Thelasa to me. You go after that silver haired human girl." Despite how the old elf downplayed Arthur, a memory¨C ingrained in his soul made his whole body, no it wasn''t just his body. It was as if his cells were screaming at him to run away. He''s not him. He''s not him. He''s not him. He kept reminding himself.


    Reluctantly, Elara looked down at Thelasa before nodding and running away.


    As the old man looked down, heaps of dust, stone, gravel and trees were thrown into the air in a faraway distance where multiple lights were shining. The fight was being dragged towards the main city. The old man shakingly stood up from his place and looked over the vast expanse.


    "So this is Earth¡­ But we were going towards Silverglade''s mountain until now. How?" With the question repeating like a broken record inside his mind, he squinted his eyes, trying to focus on Arthur and Frosti''s fight.


    The trees lining the boundary of the mountain''s premises that let a few glimmers of light intrude through them were blasted into the air as Arthur was thrown like a comet into a car. The impact made the vehicle totally cave in, followed by both the car and Arthur crashing into a small building on the other side.


    Screams erupted from everywhere as Frosti''s giant form appeared from the other side of the tree-lined avenue. Translucent mist flowed out of his icy hair?, dropping the temperature of the surrounding air with every step that he took.


    Shaking his head a few times, Arthur rose to his feet. Blood streamed down from his hairline down to the right half of his face, the crimson hue spreading inside the white lake of his eye. His eyes flickered between a hollow grey to a brighter hue as he struggled to maintain his consciousness.


    Frosti looked around, his composure breaking. His almost invisible irises flicked in every direction, looking at everything with either a sense of surprise or meek fear. "This isn''t Eden." He spoke out loud, his voice sending a chilly sensation down everyone''s spine.


    This part of the city was usually vacated, with not many people living here. However, that didn''t mean there was no one. Around 30 similar looking buildings lined both sides of the cobblestone road with multiple small cafes and grocery stores opened at the ground floor of these buildings.


    Arthur looked back at the car in which he had crashed in. A long metallic shard was lodged inside the driver''s solar plexus, his eyes closed. Looking away from him, Arthur tried to redirect his attention to the matter at hand.


    "So you have no intention of talking." Frosti continued.


    "Any opportunity to talk it out was already thrown out of the window when you attacked me as soon as you heard I was a human." Arthur replied, wiping the blood from around his eyes. Frosti glared at him. "However, it is a shame, really." Cocking his head, Arthur brought his hands up. Now that they were inside civilization, Arthur could see him more clearly. He was clearly well above 2.1 metres, around 14 inches taller than Arthur. "I would''ve loved to learn more about your Arcane Arts."


    The ground underneath Frosti''s feet froze into solid ice as he kicked it. Breaking into many pieces, he hurtled it towards Arthur. The huge slab of ice broke into a million different pieces, reducing to powdered dust. The dust formed a small cyclone around Arthur, slowly closing in on him. His jacket started to tear open, bits of fabrics flying upwards.


    Arthur let out a deep breath which felt like his lungs were getting punctured.


    Again¡­ an invisible force field manifested from the small region between Arthur and the closing powdered dust and then expanded outwards like a dome. Swirling in an opposite direction than the powdered dust, it completely dissipated it.


    Frosti narrowed his eyes. The next moment, lightning crackled around Arthur and a deafening explosion reverberated as he closed the distance in the blink of an eye.


    "He''s faster now..."


    The thought barely registered inside his mind before Arthur''s fist crashed into Frosti''s jaw with bone-jarring force.


    A sickening crack echoed through the chaos as Frosti''s body hurtled through the air like a rag-doll, slamming into the nearby building with a deafening crash.


    The structure groaned in protest, collapsing under the sheer force of the collision as it sent shockwaves of panic rippling through the crowd.


    Frosti clawed his way from the wreckage. The cobblestone quivered beneath his touch, fracturing like fragile glass. As he looked up, a smirk formed on his face.


    With a snarl, he punched the ground beneath him.


    Multiple fissures tore through it, splitting the road like the jagged maw of a monstrous creature.


    With each passing second, the cracks widened. Before long, jagged spikes of ice erupted from these crevices, jutting outwards towards Arthur. As the road splintered and the parked cars were impaled by the onslaught of ice spikes, Arthur flicked his wrist.


    The cars that were trapped into the coming spikes started to cave in. As if being crushed by an invisible hand, the cars were crushed into little balls, breaking the ice spikes in a near instant. As Arthur stood there with his hands loosely dangling to the side, only a small shard of ice reached him that harmlessly bounced off his chest and clattered on the ground.


    Frosti''s expression turned grim for a second, his immaculate, icy features scrunching into a frown. A certain sense of weirdness, or rather something more fundamental gnawed at his mind and heart. He could not comprehend anything. Although being significantly stronger physically and having the advantage of being many times his age, he just could not shake this¡­ unsettling sensation that continued to loom ominously into the air like a thick fog.


    There were a lot of unknowns. Many things about Arthur''s powers that he did not understand. The fact that Arthur was standing alive at this moment despite having his ear blown and calf pierced by a light arrow which still festered like an infected wound was enough indication that he was not an opponent to be taken lightly.


    "No wonder you filthy humans were driven out." Frosti spoke, cloudy mist escaping his lips. "Wretched sorcery. Just like your foul Arcane Arts, you humans are unworthy of living." He spoke with a sneer.


    "Driven out?" Arthur''s tone was laced with mockery. "It was a Holocaust. A genocide." His tone grew grim, like rumbling thunder. Limping a little to the side. "Just admit that you can''t understand complex things." He spoke as the metal objects in his vicinity started to shake violently, as if the molecules themselves were excited. "And that scares the hell out of you."


    Frosti straightened his back even more, raising his nose towards the sky and looked down at Arthur. "You have the nerve to talk in my presence after everything your ancestors did to my ancestors. You mudwalkers have no shame."


    Arthur tilted his head sideways. "I am not sure what lies have been fed to you. However¡­" He lowered down. "...if your ancestors were killed by us-humans, then it''s just their fault for being so weak." He spoke as the entire vicinity started to shake, quaking as if struck by an earthquake. "Don''t tell me you expected the humans to let you slaughter them without fighting back."


    "Bastard!"


    Mist spilled out of his body and then flowed towards his hands before materialising into a long handle. The handle continued to grow upwards until it formed a sleek, round ball. Immediately afterwards, multiple spikes protruded from inside the ball, turning into a morningstar.


    Pushing the ground, Frosti propelled towards Arthur like an arrow from a bow.


    ¡¸Phase 1 ¡ª Forge¡¹


    Arthur extended his hand towards the sky. A huge utility pole¡ªthat was just behind Arthur¡ªgot uprooted and was split into half before forging into a sleek claymore. Gripping it by its crude handle, Arthur swung, his eyes getting lit up again, his golden aura flaring like a whip.


    Arcanum spilt outwards from his pores and coated the weapon in his hand. As the two weapons collided, a shockwave was produced, followed by the wind that scooped shards of glass laying on the broken road beneath and blew them away.


    The next moment both of them started to swing their weapons, with the sole intent to kill. Gripping his claymore with both hands, Arthur swung it in a horizontal slash, aiming for his torso. Using a single hand and taking advantage of his longer reach, Frosti swatted the incoming slash with full force. The grating sound of metal clashing against dense ice reverberated in the whole block, the shockwaves breaking windows'' glasses everywhere.


    The claymore and the morningstar became a blur, coated in golden and blue auras as they exchanged hundreds of strikes in the matter of a few seconds. The road beneath, the lamp posts and the buildings¡­ everything was being lined with slashes from their Arcanum whipping like a sentient vine in every direction.


    Arthur flicked his wrist and the utility pole that Arthur had split in half to make a sword from, the other half shot forward towards Frosti. His eyes widened as he pushed Arthur back and brought his morningstar upwards to block it. Arthur boxed in, and slashed at his torso.


    More and more mist started to leak out of Frosti as he kicked towards Arthur in an act of desperation and braced for impact against the incoming pole. Using his right hand to swat the kick to the side, Arthur closed the distance even more, and thrust the claymore towards his solar plexus.


    A huge disc made of ice formed on his torso as the pole made contact with his raised arms. His icy arms cracked under the impact, his feet digging deeper into the road and a spider-web of cracks ran beneath him. There were visible gaps in his arms, slowly falling apart. As he looked down, he saw Arthur was now behind him.


    "Simple minded." With those words, his claymore dug deep into Frosti''s back and impaled his heart. The sound of glass shattering drowned out the continuously blaring alarms of security systems in the car and screams of people as dark blue fluid spilled out of Frosti''s lips.


    "H-How¡­?" He managed to speak, pushing the pain away. "...how did you know I was going to-"


    "Perception. Feeling. Emotions. Thoughts." Arthur spoke in a low tone as he gripped the handle of his sword more tightly. "In the end they are just waves. Laying somewhere on the spectrum." He paused, plunging the sword deeper into Frosti''s heart as he succumbed to his feet. "But you don''t have to think much about it." As he said that, Arthur twisted his sword and with one last Arcanum augmented swing, he tore open his chest by slicing to the right, severing Frosti''s heart and destroying the "Node" that stored his Arcanum.


    A small implosion in Frostis''chest caused a sudden outburst of his lifeblood to spill outwards of the gaping hole that Arthur''s claymore had formed.


    Without wasting a second, he pulled the sword out of his chest and closed his eyes, focusing his mind.


    What the actual hell! Those were elves, were they not? And a flipping Frost Giant? I thought they were just American movies! What''s next? Arthur pulling out Excalibur? Huh!? I swear to every God, I will have Arthur answer everything to me! It''s my fault for not asking anything from him beforeha¨C


    Arthur flinched, opening his eyes.


    ''A woman''s mind is a scary place.'' He thought to himself.


    In the distance, the old elf trembled as he saw Arthur stand on Frosti''s corpse, a tangible yet invisible veil surrounding him.


    "It''s just like the Gods prophesized¡­" A bitter taste pressed against the back of his throat as a tear escaped his eye. "...as soon as we capture that girl, we will find a way back. I am sure. Frosti''s sacrifice won''t be in vain." He spoke to himself. "I am sure there must be a rift that caused the connection between Eden and Earth before the Great Merger. I just need to find it¡­"


    "Too bad, that won''t be happening." A voice spoke from behind.


    Light brown hair and green eyes. Aksel Olvasen.


    As he stepped forward, the old man''s hair stood on the edge. The confidence he had against humans vanished almost instantly.


    In the blink of an eye, multiple swords of pure light formed all around him. However, the swords dissipated as soon as they had manifested as a huge magic circle extended from underneath Aksel and enveloped the entire region.


    At that moment, a memory from deep within the old elf''s mind resurfaced. The sight of a man¡­ a lone man. A man capable of mass slaughter in a few seconds. His cells themselves trembled as he saw Aksel perform the height of what any Arcanum user dreamed of.


    It was a mistake to underestimate them¡­ The realisation came far too late.


    "Technique Deployment." Aksel mumbled under his breath. "Thunderforge Coffin."


    It was only for a tenth of a second, but the only thing that remained after his utterance was a giant crater and charred skeleton of the old man, still standing in his place, like a worn down lightning rod. As he glanced down, a spark of electricity flashed inside his Olive Irises. His eyes widened as he saw Arthur who had just defeated a Frost Giant and was now making his way back to the main residence.


    "Hahh- He has grown." He spoke to himself in a bittersweet tone. "So much that it worries me." As he said that, he bent down and scooped Thelasa up. "I pity the one that went after the girl."


    ¡ª----------------------


    Astrid was out of breath.


    Her destination was just in sight.


    As she reached out for the huge door of the main residence, she saw a woman standing there.


    She was short and she seemed so delicate. Fragile even.


    Astrid''s first instinct upon seeing her was to protect her automatically. Despite not fully knowing who it was.


    "Uhh, excuse me. But Arthur- He sent me. You should go inside. I felt like someone was following m¨C"


    The woman in question placed her finger on Astrid''s lips. "Shut up before I pull your tongue out." She spoke with a bright smile, making a shiver run down Astrid''s spine. She didn''t dare to say another word. She could already feel it. The overwhelming Arcanum that the small, petite, blonde woman possessed.


    As Elara blipped in front of them with a bright flash, the woman¡ªSif looked at her.


    It was only one look, but Elara''s mind was immediately overwhelmed by an unfamiliar sensation, like a heavy weight pressing down on her thoughts. Panic surged as she struggled to make sense of the overwhelming force crashing against her senses.


    With each passing moment, it seemed as if invisible hands were tearing through the fragile fabric of her consciousness, sending sharp jolts of pain through her mind. Desperation clawed at her as she fought to hold onto her sense of self, but it was slipping away, bit by bit.


    And then, when Elara met Sif''s empty voids, it felt like staring into the depths of her own fears. A shiver ran down her spine.


    A cry escaped Elara''s lips as she crumpled to the ground, her body wracked with sobs of agony. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her head, trying to block out the overwhelming onslaught of memories and emotions¡ªher own and even those which she had never experienced.


    "Weak." She commented with a nonchalant look. "Eric dear~ Capture her~"


    "Yes, mom." Eric walked up to them. Glancing to the side, he let out an awkward chuckle. "Oh, hey¡­ uhhh, Anna!"


    "Astrid."


    "Ah yeah, Astrid. Hello." As he looked at his mother glaring at him, he coughed awkwardly. "Ehm, don''t mind me. Go inside. I can feel Arthur coming." Saying that, he trudged towards Elara''s unconscious body. "And he doesn''t seem to be in a good mood." He added, pointing at the huge congregation of clouds overcast.


    They''re all psychopaths¡­ WHAT THE HELL!????

 7: Anecdote Broadcast.

    ¡ª18 September 2023¡ª


    "BREAKING NEWS!"


    "Ladies and gentlemen, breaking news from across the globe today has sent shockwaves through the scientific community and captured the imagination of people worldwide. Reports are flooding in from multiple continents, detailing astonishing sightings of creatures long thought to be extinct or confined solely to the realm of myth and legend."


    The voice of the TV was loud. Or rather, the sheer silence that blanketed the dark room with the TV being the sole source of illumination was what made it sound really loud.


    "In India, locals have reported sightings of what can only be described as prehistoric behemoths¡ªMammoths all over the country. Mainly in New Delhi, where the concentration of these animals seemed to be highest. Not much is known about where these prehistoric creatures have come from, however, all of them seemed to be converging towards New Delhi. The scale of damage is yet to be calculated, however, the death toll solely from getting into the way of the "bull charge" has exceeded 10,000. However, in some weird turn of events, when artillery was not enough, two mysterious girls seemed to have apprehended the incoming charge and have defeated the first horde. However, much to our dismay, the local government and the army have refused to give any explanation or even a hint towards the saviour of New Delhi and possibly, the whole of India."


    The screen flickered and another NEWS channel appeared on the huge television.


    "Very much like India, reports have emerged from Brazil about the encounters of sabre-toothed tigers. Or at least that is what they seemed like. With the appearance of sabre-toothed tigers and the ability to bring the temperatures to a freezing point, these creatures seem to be no joke. Armies have assembled around Sau Paulo where the concentration has been the highest. Although it doesn''t seem like it, however, it is speculated that someone, just like in India, has been working in tandem with the Brazilian legal force to hunt them down."


    "At least someone was discreet."


    A comment washes the tense atmosphere, only for it to turn even more tense.


    "Over in Nigeria, residents have been left astounded by sightings of creatures akin to ancient reptiles, possibly resembling creatures from the Mesozoic era. The locals, however, have already begun the pillaging of the carcasses that were left. The government is said to be working its hardest to recover these remnants of the pseudo calamity. But the surprises don''t end there. In Australia, reports have surfaced of encounters with creatures straight out of mythological lore. Visitors of the Simson''s Desert have claimed to have seen the dead carcasses of worms the size of skyscrapers, brutally mutilated and chopped up. The damage until now, as far as its concerned to mythological creatures appearing, has been the least in Australia, with no death count. "


    The reporter heaves out a deep breath. That doesn''t seem like something Finn would do. But then again, I guess the loss of his guardian was heavy on him.


    "If you think that is bizarre, think twice. In Norway, an equally astounding yet horrifying sighting has taken place, with reports emerging of a colossal figure reminiscent of the Frost Giants from Norse mythology. Witnesses describe a towering, otherworldly presence shrouded in frost and mist. Video evidence has shown a young boy, probably a teen, to be fighting this Frost Giant before eventually killing it. The video evidence however is in an extremely garbled quality, making it quite hard to make much sense of. Our IT team is working to make the video comprehensible again. All electronics within the City of Bergen have gone haywire."


    The static of the TV fills the air for a while before stabilising on a channel once again.


    "Reports have arrived about sightings of Quetzalcoatl, or as anime fans like to call it, "WyrmKin", in the United States of America. The revered feathered serpent-human abominations from Mesoamerican mythology. A white haired boy was said to quickly dispatch every last one of them. However, there are no remains, carcasses or video evidence of them. But the methodology behind dealing with this scenario was just like the reports we have received from other continents. Just like how in Tokyo, Japan, sightings of different variations of cat and dog-like beings from Japanese folklore, have left an indelible mark of destruction and deaths."


    The reporter sharpened his gaze. And no matter which channel was tuned in every reporter has only one set of questions on their lips..


    "What is going on with our world? What are these "Frontiers" that have magically appeared in the middle of cities, seemingly expanding the size of our world? We can see it, but we can''t get near it? But most of all, who are these young kids? The ones who are our saviour but refuse to come in the light of the day. What is the logic behind this "magic" that they perform? So many unanswered questions have sparked widespread panic among both the public and governments alike. With so many unanswered questions swirling in the air, we''re left grasping for explanations, struggling to make sense of this surreal turn of events. Stay tuned for more updates!"


    As the news report finally concluded, a hand extended and turned the TV off. The numerous lights that were turned on right after made me squint my eyes a little. Shifting in my seat, I looked around me.


    Currently, we are back in Fjellborg Castle. The Seven Syndicates have called for an emergency meeting.


    Meetings arranged on such urgent and short notice are rare. So rare that I have not seen any records of meetings being arranged other than the Annual ones in the scriptures present in our libraries. The scriptures were something akin to board minutes of a company. It usually contains headers which is kind of a summary about every normal, annual and urgent meeting of the Seven Syndicates.


    Of course, this information is available to everyone. At least the ones in charge and the next in line.


    Shifting carefully behind me, I could feel Astrid''s nervousness and her gaze seeping into me. This actually makes somewhat sense considering how this is the first time she is in the same room with all heirs for this much time.


    Ever since Astrid started living with me in Hammerfest, she has attended the Annual Meeting only once. Since last year we could not attend it due to multiple complicated reasons. And the only time she did attend before, she barely talked to Yui.


    Looking back over my shoulder, I saw her fidget restlessly as she tried to stand and act like the other attendants in the room who were standing behind the seats of their respective heirs.


    The room that we were in now served as a giant theatre for whichever family wanted to come and rest here. However, right now it was arranged in a way that the comfy seats were placed all around the round table.


    Only the heirs were seated inside with the respective caretakers or guardians right beside them. Except Finn. His guardian was apparently killed by one of the giant centipede monsters that suddenly emerged in the desert. Guardians were usually selected from families that generated an Arcanum user every once in a decade.


    Michael as well did not have a guardian behind him. But the absence of his guardian was a totally different reason.


    Glancing back, I saw Astrid who was twaddling with her thumbs, her locks spilling over both of her shoulders. I should''ve left her behind, seeing how uncomfortable she is. And she stood out like a sore thumb as well, given my relationship with her was much lighthearted and more akin to friends than enslaving her as a guardian and prompting her to lay her life down for me.


    Putting that aside, the room was pretty large and the sun had come out at this time. It was quite surprising that it was not raining today.


    A bright warm day, natural sunlight and no one talking to me. What a pleasant time to be alive in¡ª


    "I''d say you had a pretty hard time in there, didn''t ya, Arty boy?"


    Noooooo- My tranquillity~


    Glancing over to the side, I saw Michael placed his hand on the upper side of his backrest, his piercing golden eyes looking at me with a predatory intensity. His lips were curved into a grin and his voice had a rough edge to it. He always had this quality about his voice. Something that made one think that they''d get injured even by hearing anything from him.


    On the contrary, I, on the other hand, have quite a different opinion. While people never seem to appreciate it, talking to him is like a fresh brisk wind. A good change in pace. At least when I am not in Hammerfest. Since no one knows about this "Arcanum" there. Hence not getting revered as a Godly specimen and instead being talked to in a casual way is a fresh breath.


    Might sound strange, but to each their own, I guess.


    "He was a strong opponent, I''d say." I replied, my shoulders automatically shrugging upwards in a barely perceptible manner.


    "Strong? That Frost Giant was not even mature."


    "I suppose that makes me the weak one." I tried to steer the conversation to a conclusion. While I did appreciate Michael being himself, his penchant for chaos was something that should not be played around for a long time.


    I was not looking at him, but even from across the room, I could feel his mood take a complete 180. "How typical." He scoffed and I felt his arms cross. "Always looking down on people around you." He raised his voice barely, the intensity in his gaze only increasing with every passing moment. I felt Astrid take a nervous step towards me, Michael''s open hostility taking a tangible toll on her.


    Looking up, I matched his gaze and held it for a strong minute before responding. "I am not looking down on you." I responded. "Looking down on you would be deluding myself." I stated as a matter-of-factly. However, I could see his intentions clearly painted over his face. He really loved causing some kind of discord, all the time.


    However, silly little games that could result in a little scuffle was not something I hated. They were tolerable. Hence I gave him an answer that could be easily moulded in its own way.


    "Oh, me?" As if picking up on what I had said, he spoke up. "What about others, eh? Not worthy of your attention?"


    Slipping back into my seat, I let the soft embrace of the cushion hug me from behind. "I don''t see anyone in this room as a threat. Of course, except you." I replied. "But that''s inconsequential." It was my turn to have a little ride with words. "It might just be me being really humble."


    The look in his eyes was like the one that his brain had suffered a heavy blow.


    Woah, is he grinding his teeth?


    A smirk formed on his face, his fingers tightening around the armrest of his seat.


    "Should I feel flattered?" He mused.


    It seemed like my statement earlier had caused everyone to be on edge. The caretakers behind each heir were looking down at me with intense gazes. Beneath their skins, I could feel the Arcanum swelling outwards, ready to combust.


    Such simple minded beings.


    "Perhaps?" Replying in a rhetoric, I cocked my head to the side. "Might as well consider feeling rightfully offended."


    The air tensed and cracked and a pop resonated to the right side of my ear. Before it could fully manifest and then explode, Maria extended her hand in my direction and the small congregation of energy was instantly sucked away, diverging towards her open palm. It took a tangible, spherical shape before seeping into her skin and totally disappearing from sight.


    "Michael. You''d be better off not trying anything here." She spoke, her golden hair¡ªthat was extremely curly towards the bottom¡ªjumping upwards as she rose up from her seat. The grey irises were almost alight with frustration.


    "Let them go at it!"


    "Yep, yep, totally agreed!"


    Maria''s gaze snapped towards the source of the voice. Letting out an elongated sigh, she slipped back into her seat, seemingly fed up. The sunlight that spilled into the room illuminated her tanned, unblemished flesh, giving her an ethereal look. Her guard¡ªan old clean shaven man¡ªwas standing to the side.


    The other guards also seemed to be on edge, nervously exchanging glances.


    The guards were people assigned to most of us as kids. However, as of now, I don''t think any of the guards has the capability to go against their own masters. It''s not because of special training. It''s just that Adam''s Arcane Arts are basically a cheat code.


    Despite it being a double edged sword.


    "We are supposed to be the voice of reason here, Zara. Trisha."


    Zara and Trisha were twin sisters from India. And while the theme of the Seven Syndicates was to have a family represent each continent, Antarctica is not exactly habitable. Researchers and scientists are often going in between but for permanent residency, it is not a very good place to live in.


    That is also a reason why the Antarctic Treaty was signed. Norway as well is a part of this treaty. Since it is quite vast and mysterious, the Syndicates are often sending teams to uncover any kind of tomes or artefacts deep beneath the layers of ice hidden by the following generations of Adam and Eve.


    And while Zara and Trisha were technically a part of Asia, a family which had inherited Adam''s Arcane Art was too hard to ignore. It would''ve created a power imbalance, if not for the South Asians'' argument of them not being a part of Asia. A bit incomprehensible, but geopolitics is a long topic.


    Something I am not willing to expend any brain power on.


    Since both Zara and Trisha were twins, they looked alike. The only way one could tell them apart was their hair colour with Zara having jet black tresses while Trisha had a coffee brown shade to her filaments. Both had hazel eyes and were quite short standing at around 155 and 156 cm respectively.


    Although height is something that is irrelevant since it varies based on diet and environment. What is the average height for women in my country is the average height for men in others.


    "Nothing wrong with a little horseplay." Zara argued back, looking bored out of her mind, her eyes glazed over with disinterest now that the potential scuffle was immediately snuffed out, evident from how Michael just folded his arms and let out a muffled ''tch''.


    Surprisingly docile.


    With a contemptuous disregard for any norm, Zara slouched forward, resting her arms on the table, and buried her head into them, letting out an exaggerated yawn. The display of apathy was jarring in our current milieu, but I can''t blame her.


    Sitting in the same room with people you are not very fond of can be taxing. Especially in the current moment as an awkward silence descended on the whole room. I could feel Astrid''s deep breaths brushing against my hair, making me feel a little remorseful for bringing her here.


    However, since mostly I have not told her anything, her presence here would answer her own questions, saving me from the trouble of explaining everything from the start. She was smart enough to piece information even from the little bits of casual chat between us.


    Sitting calmly until now, Dotun was the one who talked this time, finally breaking the reign of silence.


    "Putting this childish banter aside, I think we should get to the pressing matters at hand." He spoke. His eyes were squinted due to the sunlight falling directly on his face as his pale flesh had turned to a pinkish tint of red. His hair was pale white in colour, kept in a neat buzz cut. He was quite tall as well, standing at around 188 cm.


    Although the squinting of his eyes can be attributed towards the fact that he had albinism and was most likely suffering from photophobia which is an increased sensitivity to light, causing discomfort or pain in brightly lit environments.


    Putting his condition aside¡­my peace was disrupted¡­once again!


    All he had to do was to stay silent for an hour or so and then we''d be allowed to go back to our rooms or even back home. But this guy had this crushing urge to voice his pointless existence!


    "Agreed." Maria hummed. "The quicker we discuss matters here, the quicker we can leave this meeting. I am sure not all of you are fond of being here in the same confined space."


    She has a point. But I am not sure if the sunlight outside will stay for any longer. Given how the intensity of the sunrays intruding through the windows has dimmed subtly, it is quite possible that by the time we are done here, the sun would no longer be up.


    "Don''t zone out-" Astrid''s whisper caressed my ears, making a jolt down my spine.


    "Oh, hmm- Yeah." Blinking away any thoughts about finally wearing some light clothes and sitting in the sun, I focused back on the room.


    "I don''t really have a problem." Michael shrugged. "This guy still pisses me off."


    The urge to mess around a bit more bubbled up inside me.


    "Harbouring such strong emotions for me. I am flattered."


    "Fuc-"


    "Ok, enough." Maria slammed her hands on the table, making Zara who was still laying down snicker while Trisha patted her tresses silently beside her, carrying an equally amused smile on her face. For some reason Finn was the quietest until now.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Although on second thought, it makes sense since his guardian was killed right in front of him. Sitting with his hands resting on his thighs and his eyes downcast, he stayed extremely silent, sitting between Michael and Dotun.


    Maria let out a frustrated groan before looking at me. The side of her eyes creased as she tried to say something just by looking. The gaze flicked from me to Astrid, before landing back at me. Letting out a sigh, I raised my hands up in a placating manner, surrendering myself.


    I don''t really like to anger her.


    "Well, the main agenda for today''s discussion is the appearance of these Frontiers all over the world." Dotun continued, standing up.


    "I am still a little confused as to what these Frontiers are. Since they didn''t appear in Japan, or at least in Tokyo. Since we left for this place as soon as I dealt with animal people, I am not exactly aware of it." The one to talk this time was a cute, petite little girl, Yuki. Her black hair was tied upwards in a tight ponytail. As she saw everyone glance in her direction, she nervously chuckled. "Ahah¡ª did I say something stupid?"


    "Not at all." Dotun replied, waving his hand. "You not having knowledge about it is natural. After all those of us who are informed about it and have inspected it don''t have much intel about it anyways." He reassured, making Yuki heave out a deep breath and place her hand on her chest.


    "What good did it do when you inspected it yourself?" Trisha joined in the conversation with a serious face, her previous cheerfulness gone. Zara was sitting straight as well, although much in contrast to her twin, she had a sly grin over her face.


    That can''t be good.


    Not picking up on her provocation, Dotun totally ignored her comment but still looked at her and replied to her question, showing maturity.


    Good thing not everyone is looking for a fight.


    "Well, first I did try to cross-reference this phenomenon with everything we have on deck." Dotun started his explanation as he extended his hand outwards, small¡ªbarely visible¡ªnanites¡ªnano-machines¡ªsprouting out from it and forming a holographic screen in the air.


    The Olaniyans Arcane Arts.


    Their Arcane Arts was quite bizarre. There are next to almost no records about their techniques. And the scant information we do have on them, it totally contradicts with the techniques we have seen Dotun or his father Kwame use. Nanites did not exist in Adam''s time.


    One theory could be that their Arcane Arts evolved over time, or they managed to understand its true essence, much like how the Whites understood that there was more to their techniques other than to self-destruct. That small understanding made them the most powerful family among us.


    And without a sliver of doubt, amongst us¡ªthe heirs¡ªMichael was the strongest.


    As the holographic screen flickered to life, Dotun closed one eye and images started to appear on the screen. Scripts, scrolls and tomes.


    "I have researched these in the past 2 days. However, nothing has matched the current phenomenon. I have discussed it with Albert as well, but he is just as confused as we are."


    Of course they won''t find about it in old scriptures. Our world was never split into parts before. So everything that entails to that would be a new occurrence. Maybe I was making some kind of face that Maria turned her head towards me, tilted her head and raised her brows as if asking what was up.


    I shook my head once and she shot me a frown, holding my sight for a while before suddenly turning away. I can tell this much that she was not angry or anything like that. I still wonder why she did that though. Ah well, anyways.


    "However the deemed Frontiers seem to be an addition to the current landmass instead of just simple ''replacement'' as many are putting it." He said, and the image shifted to one of the Frontiers that had appeared in Helsinki, Osaka, Seoul and Colorado. "I was thinking over it, but it doesn''t make sense."


    "What doesn''t make sense? And what do you mean an addition to landmass?" Yuki asked, tilting her head quizzically.


    "Well, the landmass of countries is fixed, for the most part, yes?"


    "Mhmm."


    "Since we were not getting anywhere, I decided to do something I was a bit sceptical of before." He paused and different measurements sprouted up in the air with detailed information. "This is the first example. Osaka, Japan." As he said it, Yuki left her comfortable position and sat straight in her seat. None of us knew her very well since the heirs are rarely replaced and she got into that spot just recently, but seeing how Maria comforted her every now and then, it would be quite natural to assume that she knew her long before she even became the heir.


    In extension, the Mirandas and Watanabes are in cahoots for a long time.


    "Although it doesn''t have its own distinct landmass and is located within the broader Kansai region on the island of Honshu, the city itself spans an area of approximately 225 square kilometres."


    "Kilometres?" Michael groaned, raising a brow.


    Zara let out a snicker as Maria facepalmed, hiding her face in both of her hands. I could even feel Astrid stifle a laugh right behind me, her features finally unfreezing from the tense expression she had worn as a mask since the start.


    "87 square miles, dearest friend." Dotun replied, turning to him with a neutral look before rolling his eyes and turning back to Yuki. Michael shrugged his shoulders, totally disregarding the ridicule he had just received.


    I suppose he doesn''t even consider others enough to think much of their actions or words.


    Although that might not be the case. Since that would contradict his behaviour towards me.


    "But what has the span of the city got anything to do with our current situation?"


    "I was getting to that point." Dotun replied. I was surprised his patience had lasted this long after constant interruptions. "After re-measuring Osaka, it has increased from 225 square kilometres-" he paused and glanced at Michael, "-87 square miles to 300 square metres or 115 square miles."


    This was quite strange.


    "What about the total span of earth?" I asked this time, gaining a few quick glances, however, they were redirected back at Dotun, searching for an answer.


    A smile graced his ever serious face, the earring in his left ear reflecting a ray of sunlight as he turned towards me. "I was expecting you to ask that question."


    Could''ve just answered it yourself.


    As I stayed quiet in response, he cleared his throat before answering my question.


    "Well, we did take that factor into account." He explained, "Surprisingly, yet at the same time, as expected, the Earth''s span has also increased."


    Everyone just stared blankly at him.


    It was not outlandish news. The seal separating the two worlds was powered by the faith earliest humans had in those 4 gods. And as we already know, as people''s faith in our patron Gods reduces, the seal over the worlds that were once one and were stripped away from each other would become loose, leading to them merging back.


    But it seems like there is still a lot of divinity in that seal. That should explain why there are only selected places from Eden appearing here. Or rather where they used to be. It''s still quite baffling though¡­


    Why would the Gods strip lands that are in between the Eden? Just like the one in Helsinki, where a Frontier has appeared in the middle of the city¡­


    This just doesn''t explain things going back to the way they were. Something is definitely up. Something we don''t really understand.


    "Is something the matter, Arthur?" Maria asked expectedly, sitting on the side of the table, just beside me.


    "Ah, no- I was just lost in thought."


    "A little insight into those thoughts would be helpful." Dotun raised his brow, smiling from ear-to-ear.


    This rat¡­


    "Placement." I replied, regardless of my reluctance to partake in the conversation.


    "Ah yes!" His squint eyes gleamed with excitement before realising the current setting and reverted back. "Placement is what feels weird."


    "Quit playing with words, ya bastards. Explain in clear¡ªoh shit, it makes sense." Michael suddenly came to a realisation. "If the worlds really were divided into two back then, why is that one frontier right in the middle of Helsinki?!"


    About time he realised it as well. The room seemed to erupt as everyone started to argue about it.


    As they were talking, I turned my neck back, facing Astrid. She simply raised a brow at me.


    "What do you think about it?"


    Her eyes widened, and then looked around before frowning. "Are you seriously asking me?"


    "Is there anything wrong with asking you?"


    She looked around nervously before settling her sky-like eyes on me. "No- I mean, I was just made aware that everything I saw in anime was not wrong. Honestly, I am having a mid-life crisis right now."


    "You''re 15, Astrid."


    "16."


    "Not yet."


    "Ughh-" She grumbled. As I kept looking at her, she let out a resigned sigh. "¨CI don''t knowwwww¡­ maybe like some areas having denser Arcanum amount-"


    As she was about to finish her sentence, Dotun slammed his fist on the table.


    "That''s right! Of course! Why didn''t I think of it before?" He spoke with the excitement of a mad scientist. The small congregation of nanites extended from his arms and latched itself on the table before the small floating screens that carried pictures¡ªmost likely being projected from his memories¡ªchanged into a huge floating blue screen.


    Clicking on some random things a few times¡ªwhich were not exactly random. It was just that I was too dumb to understand what this crazy life form was doing¡ªtwo globes appeared on the screen.


    "Voila. This is it." He spoke, placing one hand on his waist while he gave Astrid a thumbs up with the other. "You''re a genius, uhhh¡ª"


    "Ehm, Astrid."


    "Yes. You''re a genius, Astrid!"


    I have not seen this peculiar creature get this excited ever before. It''s uncanny. It almost makes my bones go cold. Also why does he need to know her name again? Didn''t he meet her two years ago? Well I guess nothing catches his eye other than smart people who can be of help to his many researches.


    "Thank yo¨C Wait, what did I do again?"


    "Oh please, don''t be modest. You solved our dilemma in a second. No wonder this fu- Arthur won''t replace you with a practical guard. It all makes sense!"


    "H-Huh!?" She looked at me desperately, stumbling over her words. The look in her eyes was pleading for something.


    There seems to be a very steep misunderstanding. Not that I am going to clear it. If anything¨C


    "You''re right. She has a knack for such things."


    "That''s what I am saying!"


    ¡ªI am going to fan this misunderstanding.


    Why?


    Well, I don''t know. I am just bored and I don''t think my life is going to get exciting any time soon. Unless I make it spicy myself. Which my lazy self would never.


    "I see." Maria hummed to herself.


    I have no idea what she suddenly "sees" but I will pretend I never heard her say that to herself. She''d most likely cringe over it if I told her that.


    "That does seem like a plausible theory. And I can''t really find an argument to it." Yuki agreed as well.


    "No objections here as well." Zara raised her hand.


    "Well I have no argument saying it''s wrong. However, I have a question. If the two worlds were once the same and they''re integrating back, how come they''re replacing landmass? Shouldn''t they just magically integrate with each other? Something is fishy, the more you think more about it." Trisha added her own thoughts. "What do you think, Finn?" She turned her head towards the usually cheerful boy who had been quiet since the beginning.


    Looking up with droopy eyes that had red streaks into it, he shrugged before looking back down. "I am blank. Cant think."


    "Sorry¡­" Trisha''s voice trailed off, apologising.


    "Dumb girl. Can''t ya see he''s mourning." Michael raised his voice, his sudden utterance making Trisha flinch for a flying second before a frown formed on her face.


    "Oh yeah? And letting him sulk and blame himself as he falls deeper and deeper into guilt is a better idea, right, Mr. Know-it-all?"


    "Oh shut up with the theatrics." Michael waved her off like swatting away a bug. "Talking to you suffocates my breath. Begone with your ugly thoughts and looks. And opinions."


    "Michael. You might want to choose your words carefully when you talk to my sister." Zara suddenly stood up from her seat.


    "Woah, shit really is going down!" With a hushed, yet somewhat¡­ excited? Whisper, Astrid spoke.


    This girl¡­


    "Or what, huh? Two twigs don''t make a stronger twig. I''ll fucking snap you in half before you know it. Pipe down."


    Dotun and Finn looked at the two sisters with a worry-filled gaze and then at Michael. However, they didn''t talk to stop it. The guards were on edge as well, thinking a scuffle is bound to happen.


    Well, I guess this is good for a change of pace as well. It''s been a long time since I have seen Michael¡­ or well, anyone fight. All I need right now is a cup of coffee and I will be living my drea¡ª- NOOO. The sun is gone.


    I hope these three kill each other as compensation for making me miss my lovely sunlight.


    Damn it!


    "Michael!" Zara stood up, her chair skidding against the carpet and then falling backwards.


    Her guard behind her tensed up.


    Maria cast one look back at me.


    Don''t look at me like that. I am not going to stop them.


    Shrugging with my shoulders, I closed my eyes and looked the other way. Let''s pretend I never saw her asking me to stop the fight.


    "Zara." Trisha called out from behind her sister. "No fighting, remember?"


    "I am sorry from his side. Please calm down." Finn added, standing between the two.


    Michael was still confidently sitting in his chair, his legs wide open while smiling, as if mocking her in every imaginable way. "Say whatever you want, I am sorry to absolutely nobody. Y''all can go fuck yourselves."


    Looking away, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, her chest rising upwards as she did. "Stupid grease gobbler."


    "Heh. Children these days." He shook his head, like a disappointed parent.


    Zara didn''t react to it. I think the joke flew above her head but from what I can see, he was clearly mocking her chest that was no different than a wall. It was quite obvious since the person saying this was Michael.


    I mean, putting bias aside, she really was flat enough that placing your head over her chest might result in a crack or two to your cranium.


    Totally opposite to her own twin sister. Nevermind those things.


    "Can we please stop fighting for just a few minutes? We were just getting to the important part!" Maria raised her voice.


    "Oh shut up granny¡ª"


    Michael was about to talk but the little nanites extended from Dotun''s hand and latched on to his lips, zipping them close.


    "Sorry my dear friend, but we are in the middle of a breakthrough. Please, shut up. For the sake of everything that''s holy to you." Dotun seemed frustrated.


    Makes sense. Mad scientists like him are quite sensitive during breakthroughs.


    Michael effortlessly ripped the machine apart and then threw it to the ground as the nanites gave out a dying buzz before shutting down.


    "Whatever. Wrap it up."


    "I¡ª We would. If you were to stay silent."


    "Yeah, yeah, Dexter. I got it."


    Why do I think I''ve heard that name before?


    Oh well. Nevermind. I don''t have a good memory anyways. Thinking too much over it might burn me out.


    Dotun turned around and faced Astrid once again, flashing his teeth in a wide glee. "Oh, so where were we?" Scratching his head once, he looked back at the hovering screen. "Ah, yes! Arcanum amount fluctuations. What do you think about it?"


    I looked back at her. Underneath the few freckles was a rosy tint of red lining her porcelain skin, embarrassed out of her mind as her gaze darted from Dotun to me and then back at him. She scowled at me, motioning with her irises to help her out of this situation.


    "He asked you something, Astrid. You were talking about something."


    "I can''t believe you''ve been oppressing such a smart and beautiful girl." Dotun said dramatically. "Give her the permission to talk."


    "Uhhh¨C" Whoopsie. Looks like he got the wrong idea from my teasing. "¡ªI¡­"


    I was about to talk when Astrid spoke up for the first time.


    "Arthur is not like that." Compared to the previous meek and embarrassed voice, her words came out confident backed with a sharp gaze.


    Makes me shed a tear hearing someone talk good about me.


    "Oh? I am sorry for assuming." He backed away, however, despite the respect he was giving Astrid¡ªwhich was mostly because of a misunderstanding¡ªhis patience was also reaching its breaking point. "Would you mind expanding on what you said earlier?" He asked, his brow twitching. "If you do, we can adjourn this meeting for today." He continued, taking a step towards us.


    Pulling the extra tucked away chairs, he placed it beside me and directed his arm towards it. "Have a seat." He said as he walked away to his original spot.


    Astrid walked in front of me and then sat on the chair that was placed just between me and Maria. Tucking her skirt gracefully, she sat down and jerked her head backwards once, making the single ponytail on her left side sway a few times, whereas the rest of her hair was resting on her other shoulder.


    "Time to bullshit my way out of this." She whispered to herself.


    "Pardon?" Dotun snapped in her direction, almost like she was a fountain of knowledge and not a single word that left her lips was to be left unrecorded.


    "Eh¡ª-- I- I didn''t mean that. Actually¡ª I did¡­" Stammering on her words, she continued to awkwardly fidget with her thumbs.


    Oh yeah¡­ I just remembered. She''s really anti-social.


    (Oopsie number 2)


    "She said she''s really tired and wants it to be over soon." I replied in her stead. "Or else she''d forget whatever theory she had in mind."


    "Ohhhh¡­ well I won''t take much of your time then. Just share your thoughts on whatever you said a while ago."


    Astrid turned her head towards me and while everyone was looking at her.


    Well, well, well¡­ this is a rather serious situation now that I look at it.


    They''d pounce on her if they knew she was just blabbering nonsense.


    "Eep¨C!"Slipping one hand behind her back, I gently patted her a few times. I could feel the sleek outline of her body, despite the thick cream-coloured sweater she was wearing on top of her white coloured shirt of which collars were poking out from the top of the sweater.


    Although she did squeal a little, no one really noted what I was doing. A spark jolted between my fingers, raising goosebumps all over my body. Transferring it seamlessly through the layers of insulant clothing, I somehow made it make contact with her body.


    It was a seed.


    A small seed of an idea.


    In the matter of a few seconds, Astrid suddenly started talking.


    "Those frontiers... since the terminology used so far in scriptures was "stripped away" rather than just being magically separated, it''s possible that in the process of mending itself back, some areas are too damaged to be joined back. This perhaps might be caused by some space distortion in that region which was later filled in with the Patron Gods'' divinity. So those places from Eden are finding their place inside our land, however, that is already lost while they "stripped" Earth away from Eden. So instead of mending back, it''s fighting for domination."


    She said it one fell swoop. Despite the sudden change in weather and it snowing heavily outside, Astrid was sweating profusely.


    There were still some confused faces who did not totally get it.


    "She means a stitch. Like a torn fabric being stitched back. It isn''t seamless like before and you have to overlap one side of the fabric over the other to perform a stitch. If that makes sense to any of you. Just like how a stitched piece of flesh is tighter than before the dissection."


    Disregarding my statement, Dotun turned towards Astrid. I was sure if I wasn''t here, he would be bowing down to her. Crazy nerd.


    "W-Wow. Totally splendid!" He remarked, his eyes glimmering. "Thanks for enlightening us."


    Where is my encouragement, huh? Are you sexist? Or do you just want an excuse to talk to a woman?


    "Enlighten my ass." Michael grumbled, running his fingers haphazardly through his white locks.


    He clearly is too dense for all this.


    "Ignoring my rude friend''s comment, I think this should be enough for today." He directed everyone this time. "Is that agreed?"


    "Yep."


    "Yep."


    Zara and Trisha answered in their usual synchronised manner.


    "I suppose so¡­" Maria seemed sceptical, stealing glances at Astrid.


    "I am much more informed than when I initially entered this room, so I am satisfied." Yuki spoke with a smile and then walked over to Astrid. As she looked up, Yuki held both of her hands in her own.


    The difference in their hands was a lot. Astrid had much bigger hands, slim fingers and long nails. They still seemed soft, don''t get me wrong, whereas, Yuki¡ªwho was around 20 centimetre or 8 inches shorter than Astrid¡ªhad small chubby hands with small but light purple painted nails.


    "If you are free after this, we can hang out." She spoke with a smile. "I am new here so it was good to get along with everyone. Especially if you are a girl and almost my age."


    Astrid looked back at me.


    I guess I should give her the permiss¡ª


    "I''ll go, alright?"


    What the hell happened to taking permissions and being anti-social?


    "Uhhh- Ok." I replied.


    Did I even need to reply? She was just telling me.


    Maybe I should lock her up from any human interaction.


    "Errr, if you are free¡ª"


    "She''s tired, so no."


    I interrupted Dotun before he could ask her out to discuss. Since I am damn sure this crazy lifeform is going to pull her to the laboratory.


    He looked down at me and then left without saying a word. Finn and Michael were already waiting for him in the door frame. Michael''s arm was flung around Finn''s shoulder who had a sullen look on his face. Once Dotun joined them, Michael placed his arm around Dotun''s neck and pulled him down since he was 3 inches taller than Michael, as he pulled them out with himself.


    The sisters joined Yuki and Astrid as they were excitedly talking to each other about doing something¡­ oh damn. They''re gossiping already.


    Gross.


    Standing up, I placed my hand on her shoulder.


    "You know your way around the place, right?"


    "Eh, I don''t." She replied with such confidence that I could''ve sworn that I heard that she does know her way around. "But I''ll find you. Don''t worry."


    As she smiled, I shook my head and then looked up at Yuki who was already waving bye at me.


    I don''t really doubt the sisters since they''re neutral but this new girl¡­ her sister was a good person but something about her cuteness scares me. You know the feeling where something is too good to be true?


    Yeah, she gives off those vibes.


    Or maybe my lonely self has never encountered such a good person.


    I felt reluctant for a while, but pushed the thought to the back of my head. Before I went away, I turned my head to her once last time.


    "You remember what I said when you ran away from the mountain?"


    "Hmm? Yeah, I do."


    Yuki looked at me sceptically.


    "Be sure to do that when you''re returning."


    "Gotcha."


    There was a subtle undertone to her words.


    I didn''t want to do it... but well. I think I can give her an explanation later on. It''s not a reliable method, but it''s better than nothing.


    As she turned back to her newly acquired "acquaintances," I stepped out of the room.


    Time to get an ice bath and a sauna right after. It can''t replace the joy I would''ve received from going out in the sunlight, but whatever. At least this place isn''t as suffocating as back home in Bergen.


    ¡ª-------------------------


    I think either the old elf or the dark elf cursed me with 10 years of bad luck.


    What are the chances?


    I want to have some sunlight but suddenly these unserious, selfish idiots get serious about solving world problems.


    I want to have a sauna, but those three have already beaten me to it.


    I wanted to take an ice bath in the lake nearby. Guess what, it''s rock solid.


    This definitely has to be a curse.


    I did read about it in a book, but not much is known about curses.


    After all, Arcane Arts are inherited using one''s lineage or race. So humans can''t know much about it.


    Just like how white elves can use Light Magic and dark elves have dominion over Shadow Magic.


    From my fight with the two elves, it was quite clear that they were young. Really young. Same goes for the Frost Giant.


    I am not sure about all races, but as far as I remember, Elves grow at a halted pace. However, it''s not halted, it''s just super slow. They grow at a human''s pace¡ªphysically¡ªuntil they''re 7 or 8.


    However, their brain development and by extension their critical thinking and emotions develop at a different pace.


    A good example would be how human kids start to perceive strong emotions in the age range of 3 to 5 years old, Elves start to feel emotions after 18 years. And from there it''s an extrapolating effect in regards to everything. Same goes for frost giants.


    Ones would normally expect elves to have nature''s power but that were just fairytales that got modified with time. Although they do act like monkeys. Swinging on trees and all that.


    Why am I even talking to myself about things I know already?


    Hahhhhh¡ª I think I might be going senile.


    As I walked with slumped shoulders towards the corridors which led to my room, I heard a footstep behind me. Even her way of walking is different.


    "Maria." I spoke, more to myself than to the one tailing me.


    "It''s like you''ve got a pair on the back of your head." The voice that reached my ears was unmistakably hers.


    "Hard to not notice when you make it so obvio¨C"


    My words got stuck in my throat, like a wedge lodged in a narrow crevice, refusing to budge as I felt her locks frolicking near my face due to her throwing herself at me before her arms coiled like serpents around my waist. The turtlenecks we were wearing did little to mask the warmth of her body that permeated into me like the gentle rays of sun.


    Not that I can remember when was the last time I felt them. It wasn''t particularly sunny when I went out with Astrid.


    Ahhhh¡ª I''ve lost track. I am getting old. NOOOOOO.


    "Thank goodness you''re okay..." She whispered, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against my chest. I quickly shifted my weight, planting my left foot behind me and wrapping my arms around her shoulders just in time to break her¡ªour fall.


    "That was close." I murmured under my breath.


    "Mmm~"


    She said something incomprehensible, something I half didn''t quite understand. She was on her tip-toes, her chest pressing against mine while she snuggled her face against the soft fabric.


    "What''s with the sudden show of compassion?" I asked, raising my voice barely so only she could hear. "Also, get off me. Someone will see us."


    As she looked up, the usually serious and stoic demeanour that was her trademark was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a small smile. "You worry too much." Peeling herself away, her hands traced along my back and then against my chest as she finally broke the embrace, but still stayed close. "I am just happy you are in one piece."


    "It was just one juvenile frost giant. It would''ve been quite shameful if I was not able to deflect even that much trouble." I spoke as a matter-of-factly.


    She shifted, her hands drawing a small circle on my chest before looking upwards. Although having the same eye colour, hers was much more mesmerising. So full of life. Almost glittering with emotions. It made me want to gouge them out. Place it in a fixative solution as a decoration. By my bedside.


    "Still¡ª" She stayed persistent. I don''t remember when it all started. But she had always shown these odd shows of compassion for me. She warned me about something more bizarre happening in the area where I was while compared to other parts of the world. And not just this, the instances are too much to count. "¡ªyou were strong."


    "I suppose so." Taking a small step back, I saw her gasp at the realisation that she had been sticking close to me for too long. She took a step back as well, creating a comfortable distance between us.


    "Ehm¨C" She coughed, looking at the floor as she played with the curly end of her blonde hair, wrapping it around her index finger.


    "Is something the matter?" I asked, turning around, ready to leave.


    "No-" She replied almost instantly, and then sealed her lips and looked at the roof, as if pondering over something. "-actually, yes. But since you look so bored, I think I won''t tell you."


    Oh damn. Anyways.


    "As you wish. Take care, Maria." Bidding her farewell by waving my hand once, I turned around completely.


    "H-hey!" She called out after me.


    "What?"


    I wish I just ran away at that moment¡­


    "Take a joke, geez." She sighed, facepalming.


    "You know I am not very good with jokes." I defended myself.


    Maria and I had a peculiar relationship. I was close to her, yes. But not in a way that most people around us assumed us to be. It was not that I liked her and she liked me back. That would be weird if she liked someone like me.


    As for me, I was close to her because she was not as unbearable as the others. Minus maybe Yui, but she is no longer a part of the little group the heirs have.


    Even before I became an heir, my father would often bring me alongside him at these meetings. And Maria was the first one to open up to me. I wonder if she still feels obligated to hang around me because she thinks that I am a loner.


    ¡­.which I am. I have no friends. Astrid perhaps? Hmmm- But she''s different.


    But does that make me pathetic on top of being a loner? Do these come in a jumbo pack?


    By all means, no.


    Maybe...


    No. Definitely not.


    "Arthurrr?"


    "Oh, sorry. You were saying?" I saw her sigh once again. "You''re going to turn into an old lady if you continue to sigh so much."


    "Can you blame me though?" She snapped.


    "Of course. Sighing is a controllable action."


    "No, it''s not."


    "Just don''t sigh. Simple."


    She looked at me as if I had lost my mind.


    Sigh "Whatever. Are you free?"


    "Not for long-"


    "Are. You. Free?"


    "For the moment, yes."


    I have a bad feeling about this.


    "Mind accompanying me somewhere?"


    Taking out my phone, I looked at the time on it. There was still time before the tea. I guess it won''t harm me listening to her out.


    "Can you at least tell me where we are going?"


    She leaned forward, making the fabric around her chest bounce in my direction.


    Ehmmmmm¡ª


    "You''ll find out." She spoke with a flushed face before turning around.

 8: A Knight in Shining Armour?

    ¡ª18 September 2023¡ª


    Arthur Olvasen:


    Leaning against the railing that snaked around the overlook of one of Fjellborg Castle''s towering spires, my arms dangled lazily as I surveyed the boundless expanse of the sea stretching for as far as my human eye could see.


    The winds howled, accompanying the rhythmic symphony of waves crashing against the cliff like a prisoner beating at the bars of a cell, only to dissipate a lingering moment later into the sea with a muted plop, its primal energy spent.


    Everything around me felt so- so surreal. As if suspended in time.


    Despite only sensing it through sound, I could perceive the icy chill of the water, the mulish power of the waves, and the haunting forewarnings carried by the whispers of the winds that brushed against my ear. Whispering about something. Something unwarranted.


    My mind was in a suspended state. Was this eerie prognostication a message? A warning, that the Gods wished to tell me, or was it my paranoia taking over my senses once again. I had no way to tell.


    The jarring dubiety about my thoughts being my own or instilled by my own mother gnawed at my psyche, making me feel more and more jittery.


    I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs to their very limit, followed by small bursts until each small inhale started to feel like a bittersweet ache, causing my chest to heave upwards.


    The air was fresh, cold and brisk. The tang scent of the ocean and the chaotic aroma of the coming storm created a strange ambiance, soothing out the frayed ends of my nerves. Like balm against a wound.


    Then closing my eyes, I released it in a gentle, controlled manner, savouring the moment. It was a peaceful moment.


    It was enough to make me forget about myself, who- what I was and drift away in a dreamy world.


    Like a droplet dropping in a small pond and garbling the reflection of the world, my calmed senses went into a wild frenzy before calming down as soon as I opened my eyes, realising where I was. I am not in Bergen. I am not there anymore. I am not there. I calmed myself, burying my own rebel emotions.


    On a closer retrospect, my own behaviour¡ªat times¡ªfelt contradictory to my own self. Cynical. Psychotic even. It was like living in foreign flesh. The body, the mind, the heart¡­ everything was so at odds with each other that it tore my psyche apart.


    Blinking away the nauseous feeling that crept to the back of my throat without me knowing, I looked down, coming back from my imaginations and into the real world. Despite it being the exact same of what I had envisioned in my imagination, it felt so¡­ lacklustre?


    Was it perhaps because of the people that inhabited this place? The current circumstances? Or the past that I have lived in already? Whatever it was, I had no way to tell. But one thing was for certain, my ideal world did not include these people. Or as a matter of fact, anyone.


    Deranged and selfish, right?


    Turning my attention towards the thing that had pulled me out of the dreaming world, I took my phone out from the inside of my coat''s pocket. Before I had completely pulled it out, it buzzed first and then chimed in my grip. As I turned the screen towards me, it lit up, showing two notifications.


    The mood that had soured a while ago was immediately cured, like a splash of water on parched earth. A fleeting moment of relief. As I clicked the notification and it opened, the light from my phone casting a bright light on my face, I saw a picture, causing the stiff muscles in my face to relax.


    It was Astrid, holding her index and middle finger up in a "V" sign with Zara alongside her, her arm flung around Astrid''s neck, pulling her down since she was much taller than her. Zara had a wide grin on her face, their cheeks touching each other as she too had a "V" sign. Behind them, I could catch a glimpse of Yuki and Trisha, sitting on one of the benches outside some kind of shop.


    What is that sign? Did that weird specimen of a human enter Astrid into a cult? Hmmm. I should cut her into 5 pieces. Yeah. That should be appropriate.


    I felt my brows scrunch and I lowered the brightness, just a little, so that it stopped stinging my eyes. Exiting the zoomed in image, I saw the text underneath it.


    {Yo! We here!}


    All this school and yet her grammar is pathetic. Does she even study? Why is she even texting me in English? I had no way to tell. Opening her picture once again, I zoomed in on the background. From the looks of it, it seemed like a shop serving Fish Balls.


    There were a lot of places serving this particular dish since it''s a staple in this country. However, the woman carrying the tray also has some Potato Lefse in her tray as well. That would narrow down where she has gone to around 10 locations. I might pinpoint her if I¡ª


    As I was thinking, the phone buzzed once again.


    {No need to track me down -_- Stay away. I am not a baby. If anything, I am supposed to be your caretaker.}


    Oh? So she is pulling the caretaker card now?


    [Not doing a very good job at taking care of me, I''d say.]


    Smirking internally at the quirky reply (or at least I think it is) I was hoping she would not reply and surrender.


    {You''re not a baby either. Hehe~ Cya later~}


    Huh? Doesn''t that invalidate the entire purpose she is around me?


    Did she text just to let me know that she''s out of my RADAR and that I can''t track her¡ª Ohhh. So that''s how it is. That Yuki. Or Trisha. They must''ve made her do this to get on my nerves. It''s definitely their plot. Maybe I really should kill them.


    "I still can''t wrap my head around the fact that you- I mean all of the people here, have to live in this kind of bipolar weather all year long." A voice commented from my side before suddenly shutting up. "Dear God, you''re thinking about something awful."


    It was Maria. Her hair that''s curly at the end rested freely on her shoulders, the skin coloured scarf that coiled around her neck keeping them in place in face of the howling winds. She had a frown on her face, and two cups of coffee in her hands. She had taken the liberty to make some coffee since it was her idea to come here.


    "What makes you think that?" I asked, turning the phone off and slipping it back into my pocket. If push really comes to shove, I can find Astrid without knowing where she is exactly. It might still be troublesome.


    Extending her left hand, she held the cup for me to hold. Grabbing it by the top, I took it from her before looking down at it.


    It was black. Just how I liked it.


    "No sugar?"


    "One cube." She replied with a smile that screamed that she knew I don''t prefer sweet coffee but decided to do it anyway. "A little sweetness never hurts. And who knows it might cure that little pout you always have."


    Wait, what?


    "I am never pouting."


    She giggled. Mostly to herself. Now I feel like an idiot.


    "I know. But it''s not a bad thing you know." She spoke as she walked over to the railing. I was facing away from it whereas she placed her elbows over it and stared into the vast ocean. "No need to be so defensive."


    Not exactly sure how to handle this, I took a loud slurp out of the cup of coffee.


    "It''s sweet."


    I didn''t really dislike it. Surprisingly. It''s surprising because I am quite rigid with my likes and dislikes with a very little flexibility.


    Or perhaps it can be because I might always have liked a little sugar, and never really knew about it since Astrid never forced this on me? But that can''t be true. I remember disliking sweet coffee from the very start¡ª wait¡­ I can''t remember when exactly¡­


    Is it me just going crazy again?


    The concerned gaze of Maria once again pulled me back into reality, from my constantly rising potential psychosis.


    Perhaps she sensed my discomfort and averted her gaze from my face and looked down. "That''s the point. Besides¡­ you didn''t say you dislike it."


    "I do dislike it very much." I replied, trying to normalise myself.


    This is why I hate going back to that place¡ªmy family home. It strips away any semblance of normality I gain when I am away.


    A smile that flirted with a smirk crept onto her lips. "Then why don''t you say it. Loud and clear for me to hear." She spoke, inching closer.


    Looking to the other side, I simply took another sip of the overly sweet coffee.


    "Eh-Oh?" I could hear her getting cocky with my obvious denial. "It was too loud for me to hear. Want to say it again?"


    Ignoring her, I continued to look away from her, letting her get the little moment of satisfaction from shutting me up. Despite being around me for so long, I am still not quite sure what goes in that head of her''s.


    She''s smart, freakishly so. Smart not as a high grade scoring student, but she had good awareness of her surroundings and her intuition and decision making were as good as it could be. However, that is where the problem starts. We''ve known each other for years, and just like me, most likely, she has also studied my family''s past and even me.


    Then why was she so overly compassionate? It was a question I asked myself a few times but the circumstances always left me reeling and eventually making me forget about it in the presence of more exigent things at hand.


    While Zara and Trisha''s family seems to be as neutral as the Olvasens'' on the outside, it''s quite obvious that they have a visible disdain for the Whites. This has remained as such for decades but hidden. Veiled underneath a thick layer of diplomacy.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    And now that the biases for each other have been completely brought to light and grouping has been formed, it''s become even more important for us to stay neutral.


    Or rather we were never asked to form an alliance. Serves us right, if you ask me. But that''s beside the point. What I mean by all this is that before and more so now, why does she continue this all? Aren''t we basically glorified enemies who sit in the same room and pretend to be allies?


    The more I think about it, the more I come to a certain conclusion but thinking more over it, even that conclusion feels hilarious.


    "You know Michael and the others went outside to hang out." She broke the silence once again. I think the amount of times I have stayed silent and made the silence get awkward was getting rude by now.


    "Yeah. I know." I replied.


    "The girls as well."


    "Mhmm."


    "And hmm, Astrid too."


    "I know. She just told me."


    Silence. For a fleeting moment it stayed before it was kicked out. Before Maria could talk, I spoke this time, facing towards the sea as well, getting in the same position as her.


    "I never got to thank you for the heads up." I spoke, my eyes going soft at the surreal beauty of the dark clouds cracking up and the citrus streaks of sun extending in every direction from the crevices of those cracks, bathing everything in a layer of ethereal glow. It took me all of my willpower to tear away from the breathtaking vista and glance over in Maria''s direction, only to find her already fixed at me. "So thank you. Me and Astrid were able to survive the sudden attack because of your warning beforehand."


    The dying rumble of the cloud was a fine addition to the overall ambiance as Maria looked down, pulling her scarf up as it covered her lips. "No need for thanks, Arthur. I told you already-" she paused and left the support of the railing. "-I never once in my life have meant harm for you." As her eyes softened, she let go of the scarf and grinned. "Besides, who''s going to be your good friend when you''re this lonely, haha."


    Again with this loner thing¡­why is that the first assumption people make about me? Do I look like a loner? A loser? Does my face scream "This guy has no friends and no one likes him" ?


    Well¡­it''s not too wrong. A lot of people don''t like me and I don''t have many friends. But I still do have some. That''s quite rude of her to say that. Who cares about people''s validation anyways¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Nevermind.


    "I am not lonely." I rested my case regardless.


    The smile suddenly vanished. "Oh yeah. You''ve got a girlfriend now."


    I accidentally took in a giant gulp of the piping hot coffee I was sipping on.


    FU¨C


    I definitely overreacted to that.


    "Girlfriend?"


    I was just as confused. This girl conjures up the most random things ever.


    "Astrid, of course, who else." She spoke through clenched teeth which clashed starkly with the overly friendly smile. "Now don''t lie that she is not. Everyone knows it."


    "She''s not my girlfriend." I replied, keeping my voice flat. "I don''t know what gave you that impression." I spoke as a matter-of-factly.


    Gripping the cup from the sides with her hands that were covered to the tips by her cream coloured sweater, she brought the cup close to her lips and blew it once before taking a small sip out of it. Her throat bulge subtly moved up and down. "Why else would someone move in in a different city with a girl, living all alone, hmm?" She asked, looking at me from the corner of her narrowed eye. "Not to mention the way you behave. It''s quite natural to assume that you two are dating."


    What''s with this interrogatory tone?


    "I guess I answered my own question." She mumbled to herself as I straightened my back, placing one elbow on the railing and turning towards her as I leaned against it. "The correct question would be, I guess, why her?" There was a certain intensity in her gaze that made me not directly look at her. I had no way of probing her mind. The difference between our capabilities was not much, so it was hard to get a grip on her thoughts.


    "You did answer your own question." However, it was a confusing scenario. I was not dating Astrid. Nor did we have anything between us that would make us look like a couple. At least not in my eyes. Nor Astrid''s. "But you answered it wrong."


    She sighed, as if she had already predetermined that anything I would say in denial would be a lie.


    "Perhaps it might''ve given a wrong idea to you, or anyone else, because of us living together, but I can assure you, that is not the case."


    It felt weird to say that. Was I being defensive? Or perhaps my choice of words was not correct.


    "Then how would you explain it then?" She turned towards me, narrowing her eyes.


    Oh, so that''s how it is.


    "You could''ve asked this regardless in a normal manner." I shrugged. "Not like it''s a secret I am willing to take to my grave."


    "Really?!"


    Gotcha.


    "Ehmm¨C" She coughed awkwardly. "¨Canyways¡­sooo, spill the tea? If she''s not your girlfriend, then what is it? Why is she living with you?"


    "That''s your main concern?"


    "Hmm. Is it wrong if it is?" She asked, raising a brow, as if I was the crazy one to be not concerned about it.


    Well I guess I am¡­


    "I suppose no." I replied and then looked down at the cup in my hand.


    The weather was quite humidly cold. And while it didn''t affect me much, the tip of her ears and her fingertips were bright red against the slight tan of her skin. Her cheeks were also flushed as she rubbed her ankles together, most likely due to the itch caused by the extremely cold winds. "It''s because she doesn''t have any other place to go. Also because she doesn''t quite fit into the norm."


    "That was very elaborate of you, dearest Arthur."


    "That''s flattering to hear."


    "You''re welcome." Maria shot back with a roll of her eyes.


    Knowing she won''t go inside until she hears the story, I took a deep breath.


    "It might be a long story."


    "I''ve got all the time in the world." She replied. "Even though I''m freezing to death. Curiosity over life!" She tried to do a little fist pump but refrained from doing so, wrapping her arms around her own body.


    "Uhhh¡ª sure¡­" Weird girl. "Well, uhhh, where do I start? Hmmm¡­"


    "Dear God, Arthur. You can''t even recollect your thoughts properly. Are you an airhead?"


    "Don''t interrupt me, woman. I am thinking." The more I talk to her, the more informal my speech gets.


    She sighed. "Parents. Let''s start with her parents."


    She really is curious about her.


    "Well her parents are Mudbloo¨Cerr, humans. I mean, normal humans. Normal as in¡­ Uhhh¡ª well, you know what I mean, right?"


    She facepalmed. "Yeah. They can''t use Arcane Arts, is what you mean, right? Normal people. Not freaks like us."


    Snapping my fingers, I pointed at her, as the words finally clicked. "Ah yes, that. So well¡­she''s got a normal heritage. She''s currently an orphan."


    Her features softened and then turned to one of disbelief. "You''re talking about her being an orphan as if it''s a job. Show some decency."


    "That''s just you being weird. I didn''t say it in that way." I shrugged. "All these years, and you still can''t understand what I am trying to say. And you never fail to make my ears bleed about being my only friend."


    She pouted. "I know exactly what you''re trying to say¨COhh! I am not falling for that. Thinking I will get mad over this argument and you''ll dodge the question. Hah! I can read you like a book."


    She''s riled up¡­


    "Hmm. Oh well¡­" Letting out a defeated breath, I continued. "Well her parents died a year before I met her. On christmas eve while they were coming back from work. That would make it 4 years ago from today. And after that, she had been living with her aunt and uncle." I explained as I recalled her circumstances. "The primary node became active after the tragic death of her parents, and the moment it became active, she awakened her Arcane Arts."


    "That''s¡­ unheard of. Even we can''t immediately manifest our techniques after our primary node becomes active." She spoke to herself.


    "That is because our abilities are on a spectrum. There are different applications to the main Arcane Art and most of the kids awaken one or the other aspect of it."


    "Hmm, yeah. That would make sense. But still¡ª"


    "I suppose she was just gifted." I replied with the only plausible explanation.


    "But for normal people to manifest an Arcane Art, they have to go through something traumatic or a life-changing event. Or a spark of inspiration that is on the same spectrum as the technique that they have inherited. It doesn''t make sense for her to immediately manifest her Arcane Art right after the activation of her primary node. Because our anatomy when it comes to the brain and heart is different from those who are not a part of the lineages bound by the blood contract." She paused for a while, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Unless¡­ something happened to her after her parents'' death."


    "Hmm. Yeah." I replied. She was right about her. Maria''s intuition has always been good.


    "Was she¡­?"


    "The behaviour exhibited by her aunt and uncle was quite¡­ troubling, to say the least. It''s not something a 12-year-old should have had to endure." I explained. "Hence she caved in from any social contact and ended up sealing herself up from everything. And when she did¡­"


    "...she manifested her Arcane Art." Maria ended my sentence for me. "That would mean her Arcane Art is closely related to her isolation?"


    I glanced over at her. "Perhaps. It shouldn''t really matter to you."


    She slouched. "Just speculating. I am free to do that, aren''t I?" She stayed silent for a while. "So she was being mistreated? And then you arrived?" Suddenly there was mockery in her words. "Her knight in shining armour?"


    "Hm? No. Not exactly." I closed my eyes, trying to recollect the memories that were not distant. In fact they felt like it happened just yesterday. "She was sent into a mental asylum by her guardians¡ªher uncle and aunt."


    "Wait what?"


    "As you know we stay away from the world''s politics and such, and have no intel sharing with the governments, right? Even if there is, it''s under so many wraps that they do not know of our existence."


    Maria nodded. "Yeah, I mean, that is one of our rules. To live our lives peacefully without usurping the edge we have over others."


    Well that''s laughable.


    However, maintaining my composure, I refrained from doing so. "Well the specialists had no way of telling what was wrong with her when her Arcanum went out of control, and the Government had no idea how to categorise her condition, since, well, you know, the current president is a pragmatic person. And the idea of her being potentially able to wield "magic"---as the normal ones call it, seemed absurd to him."


    "So that oh-so genius president threw her in an Asylum?"


    "''Escorted'' her to Asylum, yes. Not just her, but the doctor who was claiming it to be a supernatural phenomenon as well."


    She rolled her eyes. "Saying "escorted" instead of "threw" doesn''t make it sound any better."


    "I suppose so, yeah, it doesn''t. I mean, it''s not supposed to sound better."


    She hummed in response. "And youuuuu¡­? Saved her?"


    "Every Syndicate mediates the Arcanum users in their continent. Her name randomly caught my attention when I was going through some files."


    "Doesn''t sound not plausible but at the same time it seems like a bunch of crap." She spoke as her grey eyes glowed like a neon sign once. "4 years ago. You were 11. We don''t get to peek in on files at that age."


    "I mean, it is." I replied as a matter-of-factly. "A bunch of crap that is."


    She giggled. "Yeah, I''d expect that much of you." She replied, laughing with her hand on her mouth. "The fact that most of you said felt believable and not some bullshit already is a good indication." She then turned back to the view of the sea that was again clasped in a clamp of darkness, the clouds slowly stealing away the beautiful sight of the sun. "Thank you. I feel much lighter now."


    "Lighter? Did you take off your clothes?"


    "No? I mean¨C" she paused, "-you definitely know what I mean."


    " I do. But what''s the fun in admitting it off the bat?" The sound of a crow cawing overhead filled the otherwise still air that occasionally thrummed in tandem with the rumble of the clouds ready to drench the world. "Now that you''ve known what you wanted, I want to know something too."


    Maria''s eyes widened. "I fucking knew it!" She pointed her index finger at me. "No wonder you''ve been talking so much and telling the truth! God, I fell for it again¡­"


    "Language."


    "Uuuu¡­"


    "Better luck next time." I patted her back, which made her body tremble, but she stayed, not flinching away.


    I wish I could be like her. To be able to act calm during physical contact. Hahhhh¡­


    "A-Anyways. What is it?" She stumbled over her words, pulling her scarf up as she blew into her fists. "I am going to die if I stay outside for another minute."


    Now, it was time to get some information out of her. "During the Annual Meeting, why were¡ª"


    "Zara and Trisha not present?" Maria finished my sentence, once again.


    "Yep."


    "Can we go inside and talk? It doesn''t have to be a room. Even the hallway would do." She spoke, and then held my hand, sending a cold shiver down my spine. "See? My hands are really cold."


    "Yeah, ok¡­ fine." Her hand was really cold. The fingers that coiled around my index finger were like soft ice, and were blood red in colour. Despite me agreeing to it, she did not let go of it. As I looked up at her, she averted and looked the other way.


    "Would it kill you let it stay that way? Your hand is warm¡­"


    "Oh?"


    I mean, if I was going to remove her hand, it was going to be a hassle since she was gripping my hand like her life depended on it. Despite there being obvious differences in physical strength, there were a few boundaries. Crossing those boundaries blurred one''s perception of playfulness and being seriously bent over harming the other person.


    "Let''s go inside."


    With a wave of my hand, I motioned for her to walk beside me. Slipping my hand, and in extension her''s into my pocket, I opened the small, creaky wooden door with a plethora of cracks running all over it. The handle was moist, and the damp chill seeped into my fingers with a soothing slither.


    We walked slowly in silence, not uttering a word. Once the door closed behind us and the wind became tired of walloping mercilessly that slowly transitioned into the sudden yet soft patter of rain, Maria''s hand that was inside my coat''s pocket slowly uncoiled from around my hand. Clearing her throat, she rubbed her hands a few times before talking.


    "Phew, the weather is almost as capricious as you."


    The hell?


    "Well that''s not nice."


    "Hehe." She snickered and then looked the other way, inhaling aggressively with her nose. It would seem like a weird act, but I guess the cold got to her. Taking a tissue out from her pocket, she wiped her nose, the tip of which was just as red as her the tips of her ears. "Well, you remember how I warned you as well, right?"


    "Yeah." I could remember it clearly. It hadn''t happened that far into the past after all. However, the significance of it was so much that it made an indelible mark on my mind. How did she know? How could she tell? There were a lot of questions, crawling inside my mind like ants scurrying about in search of food.


    "Remember when I said if you could remember who we partnered with?"


    "I wasn''t paying attention."


    She looked at me, eyes wide. Then she pouted before looking the other way, her elbow almost blowing my ribs. "Of course you didn''t."


    "If it''s not a surprise, why are you even mad at it?"


    "No one said I was mad." She huffed.


    "You don''t look very cheerful. And you''re pouting. Your cheeks are inflated. And you''re acting like a child again. I think that is enough indication to tell you''re mad."


    "Hmmmm- whatever floats your boat." She gave her hair a haughty flick. "Anyways, we were tipped off. Or rather¡­ hmm, I don''t know how to put it into words."


    The irony.


    "Look Arthur, I can''t really say much. But I have always wanted the best for you." She suddenly stopped and extended her two hands, palm facing upwards. I stopped as well, coming to a sudden halt and looked down. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she motioned her hands, as if asking me to give my hands to her.


    "I am not very good at¡ª"


    "I know. That''s why." She cut me off.


    Should she be trusted, logically speaking? No. But do I trust her? Oddly enough, the answer is yes.


    I don''t trust my own brother. I don''t trust my parents. And sometimes I don''t even trust Astrid. However¡­ I just couldn''t bring myself to ever doubt Maria.


    Statistically speaking, she had never done anything that could prove pernicious to me. But the inherent nature of a normal human being to doubt everything was what kept me at bay. Even more when you factor in the other facets of our circumstances.


    Hesitatingly, I slipped my hand into hers. My nerves themselves seemed to almost bristle, and I felt something that could only be called as a survival instinct, ready to lash out like a whip at her.


    Abstractly, my teeth sunk into the burgeoning feeling and buried it deep down, like an owner taming its dog that had lost control. A dog that is a weapon for disaster for others, but the dog almost never snaps back at the owner.


    As if understanding everything, Maria furrowed her brows and then smiled, taking my hand into hers with an even firmer grip. I felt myself recoil, but unlike the other occasions, she held it strong.


    "I''ll say it once, so listen to it carefully, Arthur." She spoke as she tip-toed, trying to reach up to my ear. "The Watanabes¡­" she whispered, her voice creaking like the flooring of a centuries old boat, "...their Arcane Arts has evolved. To a certain extent."


    She whispered all that with such speed that I was barely able to register. Evolution of Arcane Arts? Is it related to predicting the future? Those two don''t go hand-in-hand. Since predicting the future has nothing to do with their Arcane Arts. Unless¡­


    It''s not evolution all together and just an extended property of the already existing Arcane Arts. Or an altered perception¡ªinterpretation of their Arcane Art. That''s also why despite being the same Arcane Arts, it has evolved into something much different than original.


    Arcane Arts were based on its user''s interpretation, after all.


    Adam was not able to wield the full extent of these powers. If he did, he could''ve won that war. But even if he did¡­ this world would''ve been no more. Was that the reason he didn''t retaliate? I guess he didn''t need to since it had sheer raw power that none of us can replicate.


    Wait¡ª that''s not the matter of contemplation right now!


    Looking down, I saw Maria had left my hands that were still suspended in the air, as if she was holding them.


    "Thanks."


    This was crucial information. That should explain how Zara and Trisha dealt with the appearances quite effectively and the uncanny behaviour of all of the creatures converging to a single city, right where they were.


    "Anytime." She smiled. As I looked into her eyes, she averted her gaze. "Welllll~ I have a few other things to do. The elders'' meeting should end soon. We will be informed about the progression of things then." She stepped away but stopped for a fleeting moment and looked back. "You can use some rest too, Arthur. You look pale as hell," were her last words before she gracefully walked away.


    How long has it been?


    Now that I think of it, it has been years¡­2 or 3 years since I last properly held a conversation with Maria. Feels¡­ oddly nice.


    *ting*


    The chime of my phone brought me out of my thoughts.


    [I am soaking wet!]


    It was Astrid, sending a photo of her wet jacket sleeve and Yuki in the background. Letting out a long sigh, I exited without replying and slipped the phone back into my pocket.


    I really need some rest.

 9: Lucid Paranoia.

    Andrew Ashford POV


    "10,000 men, women and children. Gone in a matter of hours. Several thousand more still missing, and nearly DOUBLE of all that combined are severely wounded¨Cand you still dare to tell me to calm down?!"


    With a resounding crash, his fist met the table, fury blazing in his eyes.


    "Prehistoric dinosaurs! Creatures that roamed the Earth that went extinct millions and millions of years ago appeared out of thin air! THIN AIR! That is beyond absurd!"


    "This has been established before, matters to do with arcanum have proven to be extremely volatile and unpredictable."


    "So what? Are we expected to just sit idly by? Let highly dangerous entities have free rein all over our populated cities?! Expect goddamn magical children just to appear out of nowhere to solve all of our issues?"


    "Lamenting about it now will not rectify the situation at hand. If we may, let''s begin to collect our thoughts together, shall we?" Senator Brown interjected, hoping to defuse the escalating tension.


    With an irritated wave of his hand, the Indian representative conceded the floor to Senator Brown to steer the conversation.


    "I wish to direct a question to the representative of Brazil, a query I''m sure many have been eager to hear."


    With a solemn nod, the representative replied, "Ask away, Senator."


    "There have been rumors that the undisclosed individuals who took more¡­ ''decisive action'' across the world appeared for more diplomatic and organized efforts when dealing with your nation''s ''domestic'' affairs. Are you still in contact with those individuals?"


    The Brazillian took a moment to deliberate his words carefully. "Yes and no. The individuals you speak of, yes they did in fact come into dialogue with our armed forces. A teenager, and a few others who were under her direct command. Initially reluctant, the commanding officer eventually recognized their expertise in containing such unconventional threats, based on reports from overseas."


    The political envoy takes a moment to sigh, before looking down my way. Giving him a subtle nod of approval, he continues.


    "When pressed for identification, they referred to themselves as ''Os Poucos'' - ''The Few'' for simplicity. They advised methods on how to efficiently entrench and combat the containment lines against those saber-tooths. Areas that had significant resistance and strength, they personally came down to lend their¡­ abilities. Once the situation was deemed stable enough, they left it to the armed forces to clean up what was left, after leaving some ambiguous words: ''We will intervene when necessary.''"


    Isn''t now necessary?


    "Isn''t now necessary?" A voice that whispered from beside me spoke my thoughts aloud.


    Ah, well good to hear that I''m not the only one to think that.


    "The Few¡­ do we have any descriptions on their appearance, any trail on where they went?"


    The Brazilian diplomat shrugged. "According to all interviewed personnel who saw and had direct contact with The Few, all could perceive that they were there but¡­ that was that. They could recognize a person, but nothing more. It''s as if they forgot." The diplomat takes a moment to look through his laptop. "Even the officers, who directly spoke to their leader, described their voice as ''androgynous-both sounding like a young boy and a girl.''


    "Were you able to tail, or gain any leads on where or what they''re doing after they left?"


    The Brazilian diplomat folded his arms. "Short answer, no. Long answer, we found nothing drastic. Of course, we wouldn''t simply just let The Few leave, we already had drones and UAVs with thermal imaging capabilities within the area. Those assets managed to watch them momentarily until they lost any and all visuals on them due to the unfavorable terrain. Once they lost contact, they never regained a visual of them."


    "You said something about finding ''nothing drastic.'' That implies you found at least something, doesn''t it?"


    "I was about to get to that point." The Brazilian replied. "When a ground search team scoured the last known area, equipped with ALD technology, they came across a 22x22 meter squared area, irregularly dense with arcanum. With the ambiguous nature of arcanum, we believe that whatever that artificial area was, was the reasoning for their complete and sudden disappearance."


    "So truly, nothing? Magnificent. Is there anything else that needs to be discussed that''ll effectively bring us nowhere? Or can we finally begin discussions on moving forward?"


    A moment of audible silence washes over the entire room.


    "Moving on. As of this moment, it is incredibly crucial that every nation on the globe undergoes an appropriate level of military preparedness. This¡­ enigmatic, if you would, danger we all face requires swift decisive action from all corners of the world. We must take whatever measures necessary, no matter how large or small, to safeguard our planet."


    A chorus of mostly affirmative murmurs ripples through the gathering. I wait for the room to quieten naturally before taking the lead to address the assembly.


    "If I may? I have matters that I believe everyone would like to hear about." Projecting my voice over the last few whispers, I gain the attention of the entire assembly.


    "As you all know, ALD technology and other ways to predominately search for Arcanum have been temporarily monopolized by my company and its close affiliates. As of now, I am prepared to openly share both the information and technology with all the governments present here today, as well as the general public."


    Sharing files from my laptop onto the public display, I continue. "A general summary detailing materials, construction, general usage, and other relevant information relating to the prototypes are all there. For the betterment of mankind, I propose mass production and funding for this technology across all nations as soon as possible."


    "I should also mention that this isn''t an instant solution to the containment zones manifesting across the world. It should be able to thoroughly aid in predicting the locations of such zones and search for other anomalous oddities, especially once more powerful stationary radar installations equipped with ALD capabilities become more commonplace."


    "Please, take a moment to review the materials I''ve shared."


    Allowing a brief pause for the delegates to examine the documents, I exhale deeply before continuing. "Other than that, I have relevant information about the effects that arcanum has on humans." The room fell silent, as all eyes trained on me.


    From my pocket, I pull out what seemingly looks like an ordinary pen, before pulling it apart to reveal a concealed knife.


    "I apologize for introducing something that can be considered a weapon into the chambers, but I figured that this would be the most effective way to demonstrate my¡­ ''progress.''"


    Ignoring the worried shouts and calls for caution, I extend my hand, palm up, and with a swift motion, drive the blade into my palm with as much force as I can muster. The blade bends upon impact before snapping.


    Turning my palm around to show the table, I reveal only a minor graze atop a subtle bruise. Shocked gasps and an "Oh my god¡­" circle around the many political figures.


    "I assure all of you, that was a real blade. Due to what I can safely assume is my repeated exposure to arcanum-related phenomena, my body has undergone significant changes. As to my current knowledge, I am one of the few to have acquired superhuman capabilities."


    "One of the few? As in, you know more?!" A voice from across the room shockingly asks.


    "Yes. A very select few within my organization¨Cprimarily those with whom I have worked closely¨Chave shown similar abilities. It is reasonable to anticipate that those with enhanced features are to be more common each day. Not just from my direct company, but generally, around the world."


    Sitting back down in my seat, I glance around the table. Many are stuck in deep dialogue, some are busily typing away on their devices, and few are still staring at me in disbelief.


    "With the emergence of arcanum-enhanced humans, an occurrence that will undoubtedly become more widespread, it will be imperative for each nation to address and regulate these new oddities as they see fit. Whether through legislation, education initiatives, or specialized agencies¨Ceach country must determine its own course of action."


    I glance down at my now scarred hand before meeting the many gazes around the table once more, I conclude. "I''m well aware of certain¡­ trepidations and curiosity one might have about aracanic humans. So, to the best of my abilities, as well as trusted individuals within my conglomerate, we''ll do our utmost best in learning, understanding, and moderating these new abilities."


    "That is all I have to share at this time. I''m sure that many of you have several questions and other inquiries but we''d be here all day if we had to go over everything. Feel free to contact me through the UN for further information. Shall we continue regular discussions, ambassadors?"


    ¡­


    "Very well. With the regular damage to the local infrastructure-"


    ¡ª-----------------------------------


    "Good to see you again little Andrew!" The man greets me warmly, taking a moment to size me up. "Haha, maybe not so little anymore, you''ve grown!"


    "Hey old man, indeed I have." I reply with an amicable smile.


    "Baha! You will still be just a boy to me." he chuckled.


    "Does that mean I get a child discount?"


    "You know the rules here Andrew! The d-word is not allowed. I don''t make the rules here, I just follow them." he reminded me with a playful smirk.


    "Don''t you own the diner?"


    "Hahaha! Only in appearances! The wife is the real boss!" He laughs.


    "Oh, I see. Well, make sure to let her know I said hi." I said before turning my attention to the menu.


    One of the benefits of being part of a wealthy family is the opportunity to travel nationally and internationally for a mixture of reasons, whether that be business, politics, or simply leisure. During said travels, you often encounter interesting places and eccentric people.


    Frank here, falls under that eccentric category. He''s a plump, balding elderly man with a thick accent from somewhere in Eastern Europe. He owns this little cafe diner that sells a peculiar mix of mainly coffee and hotdogs. REAL good coffee and hotdogs.


    I first visited this establishment roughly over a decade ago when Logan took me on one of his business trips. Now, every time I''m in New York, I have to visit at least once. Since then, the only thing that has changed in this place is the bald spot on the back of Frank''s head that''s gradually gotten larger.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "So! What can I get for little Andrew?" Frank enthusiastically asked, flicking a dish rag over his shoulder.


    Taking a quick moment to read the menu overhead, I deliberate for a moment. "I''ll stick with the two regular hotdogs with extra onions."


    ¡­


    "Andrew."


    "Yuh-huh?"


    "The hell is a hotdog."


    "Please don''t make me."


    "We only serve what is on our menu, you wish for an item, you have to say the name."


    I sigh.


    "...Can I get two ''Fantastic Frankies'' with extra onions?"


    "Of course you can, little Andrew! Frank will make the most fantastic Fantastic Frankies just for you!" He then begins to prep the ingredients for the food that was ordered. "You may sit wherever."


    Thanking Frank, I slide off to the corner of the diner to shuffle into a booth. Curiously glancing around, I notice a couple of other patrons within. One sipping a coffee, typing away on a laptop and another eating a¡­ hotdog.


    I wonder if that guy was also coerced into saying the food''s very ''creative'' names here.


    Pouring myself a cup of coffee from the pot dispensed to each table, I mixed it with a couple of sachets of sugar before hurriedly taking a sip from it.


    Ah, shitty instant diner coffee. At least it tastes exactly how it looks.


    Hmm, I could''ve quite easily coughed up the extra couple of dollars to get some ''good'' espresso coffee. It''s not like I''m desperately broke where I can''t afford it, but I guess it''s just more of the fact that I couldn''t be bothered to do so.


    Even if I did, I doubt I could taste or tell a huge difference, it all tastes mostly the same to me.


    I mean hell, the only reason why I''m drinking this in the first place is because it''s right here in front of me.


    Before I can get too absorbed in my thoughts, a ding from my pocket alerts my attention.


    Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I read a text from one of my employees.


    Afternoon Andrew, I thought I would give you a quick heads up, but New York''s arcanum readings have been fluctuating from heavy to light. Nothing like a new zone appearing, but as if something like an artifact is moving about.


    Didn''t think it''s dangerous or anything to be specifically worried about, but thought you''d like to know regardless.


    Just before I could send a reply, the chime of someone entering the diner diverted my attention.


    "Frankie!"


    "Sarah!"


    Oh god, it''s her.


    My sister bounded up to the counter, full of energy, to chat with Frank.


    Well, with their conversation in full swing, the other patrons and I can enjoy a moment of peace.


    At least that''s until she inevitably comes over to bother me.


    "Andy~"


    Refusing to meet her gaze, I buried myself in my phone.


    She huffed. "Are you ignoring me? How could you?!"


    Finally, turning my head to glance at her, she has her hand over her heart to exaggerate her hurt, with an equally as theatrical torn face.


    "I wish I could ignore you." I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for Sarah to hear. She in return, rolls her eyes.


    " So, you''re gonna take a seat?" I nod to the empty space across from me.


    "Mhm! But first, bang!" She slaps a hotdog in front of me before sliding into the booth with her own, already half-devoured.


    ¡­


    "Sarah."


    "Yaa?" she speaks with her mouth full from another bite of the hotdog.


    "I need to tell you something incredibly important and confidential, lean in."


    She swallows, before leaning forward curiously.


    "What''s u?-OW!"


    As she draws close, I flick her on the nose. She flinches back, clutching her nose with a scowl.


    "The hell was that for, you ass?!"


    I point at the almost entirely gone hotdog.


    "You ate my stuff." I answer matter of factly.


    "Womp womp." She finished my hotdog with a final bite. "Like your fatass needed a second one, I was just looking out for your health." she quipped between chews.


    With a sigh, I grab my own hotdog and finish it within two bites.


    "Hoooooo¡­ Check you out Andrew, you''re a true glizzy gobbler, it must be all the experience from hanging around with all those guys." She teases, giggling at her own joke.


    Cleaning myself with a napkin, I folded my arms and leaned back into my seat. "Do you ever wonder why I smack you a lot? It''s because you say a lot of stupid shit."


    "Oh? By the sounds of things, you''re not denying it either." She said, a mischievous glint in her eye


    "Do I really need to bother correcting something that''s clearly a bunch of crap?"


    "So then tell me, have you ever been with a girl?" Sarah questions, resting her chin on her hand.


    A shit-eating grin spreads across my face.


    "Ask your friends, they can answer for you."


    Sarah recoils back, her face scrunching in on itself in a mixture of surprise, anger, and disgust.


    "You don''t mean¡­ not with¡­ you serious?" she asked as her expression became more shocked by the second.


    "As serious as they come. Like I said, ask your friends."


    Sarah just sighs and shakes her head slightly. "Whatever. Moving on from that, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?"


    Glancing at my watch, I answer. "I''ve got about another twenty minutes until I''m supposed to meet with Ambassador Brown. And more testing."


    Sarah throws a suspicious look my way. "The last time you were actively testing something, you were attempting to blow something up. Should I be concerned?"


    I chuckled, waving off her concern with a casual shrug. "No explosions this time, I assure you."


    "Soooooooooo¡­ what exactly are you ''testing'' then." Sarah inquired, her attention divided between her phone and me.


    "Myself." I admitted, stirring the last of my coffee absentmindedly.


    Sarah frowns as her eyes shoot from her phone to me in a glare. "I thought you said I shouldn''t be worried."


    Breaking eye contact from her dangerous stare, "I mean technically I just told you that I wouldn''t be blowing anything up." In my peripheral vision, I can see her gaze harden. "Don''t worry, I won''t be hurting myself or anything."


    Looking back up to meet her now softer gaze. "Probably, I think." Her piercing stare immediately returns.


    Sliding her phone on the table, she now perceives me with her full attention. "What sort of testing do you need to do where you have to test yourself?"


    "Okay, so you know how people tend to absorb arcanum over time passively?" I began, and she nodded. "And you know how arcanum does some freaky magical shit?" She nods again, with an eyebrow raised.


    "You gonna spit it out, or¡­?" Sarah impatiently asks.


    "I can do some freaky magical shit. Well, kind of."


    "You gonna elaborate on that?"


    "Well, when I was doing my regular training at the gym a few days ago, the weights that I''d usually struggled with felt incredibly light. INCREDIBLY light. So I figured I''d try my luck with some bench pressing. Long story short, I kept lifting until I couldn''t fit any more weight onto the bar itself."


    "So you''re telling me you got super strength?"


    "Yeah, basically."


    "With this testing, I imagine you''re gonna go into further detail with that? See what your actual limitations are?"


    "Yeah, basically." I take the final sip of my coffee, finishing it. "I''ll also be looking into other physical capabilities, like stamina, agility, whatever."


    Sarah rests her hand on the side of her face, as her eyes look away deep in thought. "You think I''ll get abilities like that too?" she curiously asks, as her eyes return to meet mine.


    "Most likely. And probably soon."


    "Hmm, is that right..?" She trails off. "You also said you had business with the ambassador. And what''s that?"


    "He''s asked for my help and opinions in discussing and planning the future of arcanum in the United States, piece together a proper plan of action before he takes it to his superiors." I check my watch once more. "How about you? What will you be doing?"


    She taps her chin, before shrugging. "Well¡­ I was gonna go see a couple of my friends here initially¡­ but I don''t think I wanna do that anymore. I think I''ll probably just go home."


    Yawning and stretching, I rise from my seat. "Well suit yourself, don''t let me spoil your fun. Make sure to settle our tab."


    Sarah looked up at me, still seated. "You''re leaving me here with this mess?"


    Ignoring her, I turned around. "See you later."


    I quickly sped-walked out of the diner before she could protest.


    ¡ª-----------------------------------


    "That''ll be all Mr. Ashford, thank you for your time." Ambassador Brown releases his handful of documents across the table. "Your insights are invaluable as ever, I might just have to call upon your expertise in the future again."


    With a courteous smile, I nod my head slightly. "It''s always a pleasure to contribute, Ambassador. You may contact me whenever and I''ll reply as soon as I can."


    Slipping back into my jacket, I gathered my few belongings and secured them within my metal briefcase


    Exiting the room, I found myself in the dimly lit corridor of the office. The office was almost entirely silent, as mainly only the soft hum of the nearby ACs and lights gave the surrounding area a gentle reminder that the office wasn''t entirely lifeless.


    With steady steps, I made my way down towards the end of the hallway, the occasional glimpse of a passing figure served as a reminder that I was not entirely alone in the building. A few turns later, I reached the elevator bank.


    Pressing the button, the doors parted with a subtle ding, revealing the empty metal interior. Stepping inside, I press the button for the ground floor, affirming a soft glow from the control panel.


    Leaning back against the cool metal wall, opposing the doors, I allowed my thoughts to wander as the elevator began its descent. Of which didn''t last too long, as the lights within the elevator flickered violently as the elevator stopped abruptly.


    Initially alert and startled, A surge of adrenaline shot through me, as a thought echoed within my mind. Is the elevator about to fucking fall? Thankfully, a moment later, the flickering ceased as the light stabilized. Upon the panel of floor buttons, I noticed that the second floor had lit up, signifying that someone had called for this elevator.


    I feel like something is amidst¡­ that couldn''t have just been some weird freaky coincidence right?


    With a shaky exhale, I allow myself to relax against the wall again irresolutely. Allowing the benefit of the doubt, being that the incident prior was some minor glitch. My thoughts return to the meeting with Ambassador Brown.


    Initially, the biggest hurdle in dealing with arcanum was disclosing it to the public, but that hurdle had essentially sorted itself out. From the numerous breaking news of Frontiers appearing across the world to the previous and now current UN meetings being accessible to absolutely anyone.


    Essentially, if someone either has regular access to social media or relatively keeps up with the news¨Cthey know of the emerging element.


    The public reaction to it in particular has been rather amusing. From seeing viral videos on social media labeling arcanum a conspiracy created by governments gone wrong, to posts discussing how arcanum just may be the world''s greatest discovery to date.


    It''s in the limelight now, and it''ll further gain more and more publicity by the day.


    Among some of the other things I talked about with Ambassador Brown, the US government has expressed a keen interest in researching arcanum, perhaps opening an entirely new department dedicated to all arcanic affairs.


    Ideally, that''d be preferable. After all, there''s only so much that my conglomerate can individually provide. Theoretically, If I could get both the backing and funding of a country, especially one as affluent as the United States, my range of operations would be able to significantly expand.


    Governments aside, once more overall research and tests have been done on arcanum, especially its effects on humans, the next major question would be how to effectively control all the variables that an arcanic society would supply.


    I have already begun to develop abilities that have started to surpass superhuman capabilities. How would the world react once hundreds, thousands, hell even potentially millions of people gain said abilities?


    It''s going to be one hell of a headache.


    Speaking about headaches, that reminds me.


    Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hit the button on the side to bring the screen to life, intending to flick a text to Sarah that I''m on my way back now.


    ¡­


    Only just to see the blank reflection of my own face, as my phone refused to turn on.


    I swear that it was almost entirely charged before coming here! What the hel-


    Then a thought surged back to my mind, the elevator malfunction, my phone¡­


    It couldn''t be right?


    As if answering my thoughts, the elevator doors spilled open with an ominous chime, revealing a person, someone I''d never laid eyes on before.


    Something is wrong.


    My eyes darted up to meet the strangers.


    His etheric golden eyes locked with my own in a piercing stare. His scrutiny seemed to see straight through me as if I was entirely transparent, completely stripping away my defenses until I felt utterly exposed. It didn''t feel like he was matching my gaze, no¡­


    It''s like he''s peering into the depths of my soul itself.


    What is going on¡­?


    I don''t even feel like a human, I feel insignificant. Like I''m an ant.


    No, that''s not right either¡­


    I feel like I''m less than nothing.


    The man''s golden eyes seemingly emit an eerie glow, as he subtly tilted his head, as a wide, almost malevolent smile sprawled across his visage.


    I staggered backward, my side colliding roughly with the wall for support. My legs trembled beneath me as if the weight of absolutely everything had been shoved upon my shoulders.


    Darkness began to take my vision, as the man''s silhouette began to blur and fade before me. A wave of dizziness swept over me, as my mind struggled to fight the threat of unconsciousness.


    My quivering hand rose to cover my mouth and nose, only then did I just notice.


    I couldn''t breathe.


    I''m suffocating.


    Am I terrified?


    Am I about to die?


    The strength in my legs waned, buckling once more before I crumpled completely.


    I fell onto my back, my arms struggling to maintain even a partially upright position.


    Suddenly, reverberant laughter assaulted my senses.


    "Hahaha! Now, wasn''t that just entertaining?"


    The oppressive pressure I felt crushing me had disappeared, as abruptly as it came. It left me gasping for air as if I had just emerged from a deep underwater dive.


    With each breath, the world around me regained both its color and clarity as my vision cleared.


    Taking a moment to steady myself and catch my breath, the man stood over me, his eyes reflecting a blend of disgust and amusement as he observed me.


    His hair, cropped short and seemingly bleached to an unsoiled white, swept to the side with an exuberant amount of gel, as each strand on his scalp stood rigidly sharp. The other most distinguishing feature of the man was that he also possessed a round pot belly as if he hadn''t done a source of exercise in years.


    His appearance defied the notion of laziness.


    Instead, he exuded an aura of immense power.


    He could kill me right here and now on a mere whim, and I do not doubt that there is anything I could do that would stop him.


    I''m at his complete mercy.


    "Who¡­ are you?" I choked out breathlessly.


    The man''s wrinkled face wrung into a scowl. "Did I give you permission to speak, foul-born?" he uttered sharply, his words slapping my face as a reminder of my helpless situation. "I''m very sure your inferior mind can comprehend what I am."


    "Arcanum¡­" I murmured. The word left a very foul taste in my mouth.


    His eyebrow raised before a diabolic smirk stretched his lips. "Hohoho! If stares could kill, I''m sure I''d be as good as dead right now!" He began to laugh as if somebody just told him a hilarious joke. "Disgusting trash like you could never."


    The pressure that drove me to suffocation returned for a moment, twice as heavy. Twice as imposing.


    However, that was all that was needed. I felt myself violently gag and retch as I struggled to contain the bile rising in my throat, just mere moments away from being expelled.


    I turned my head to the side, I couldn''t for a second longer. With an intense lurch, I explosively churned out the contents of my stomach, splattering all over my hand still loosely clutching my briefcase.


    "Did I say to look away from me boy!" The monster of a man screamed at me.


    In a near instant, my eyes returned to his, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the barf dripping from my chin onto my clothes.


    "Heh. That hollow look on your face suits you much better." That disgusting grin returned on his face. "On your feet boy. I''m here to come to an understanding with you."


    Awkwardly rising from my almost fetal position, my shoulder leans against the wall, still feeling weak.


    "My name is White. Lawrence White. We are going to have a nice chat."


    ¡ª-----------------------------------


    3rd person POV:


    ''Arthur?''


    ''Arthur!''


    ''Haha. Catch me if you can~''


    ''Awwwh, did something happen to my little bear? Are you hurt?''


    Voices. Silhouettes. Ghosts of the past... or a fabricated imagination?


    ''Arthur~ A soothing voice of a girl.


    ''Arthur!'' A girl''s voice, desperate.


    ''Arthur¡­'' A girl''s voice with an ocean-deep sadness.


    ''Be a good boy and keep it between us, ok?''


    Desperation, too much.


    Insides, melting. Heart, bludgeoning.


    ''Don''t let them know, ok? Live your life normally.'' The same voice. So, so full of love. And as the silhouette turns around, the expressive, vacant eyes lined with tears. ''I love you, dearest¡ª.''


    "Gah!"


    The chime of the phone ringing sliced the soothing calm of the room as Arthur''s eyes fluttered open. His face was covered in sweat, his eyes wide open as his long ashy-brown strands laid sprawled over his face haphazardly.


    "Huh?"


    Touching his eyes, he felt a wet sensation. A single streak of semi-dried tear still lingered, originating from the side of his eye and making its way along his cheekbone.


    "God, I hate these dreams." He grumbled to himself and punched the blanket off him. Reaching out for his shirt on the side, he quickly wore it and threw his feet over, landing on the carpet beneath.


    Rubbing his eyes, he reached out for his phone. As the screen flared to life, he squinted his eyes.


    [All the heirs are to be immediately dispatched in groupings of 2 to the current frontiers that have spawned. The pairing is down below.]


    [Zara and Trisha]


    [Dotun and Finn]


    [Maria and Yuki]


    "You have got to be kidding me." Wiping the tear from his eye, Arthur scowled.


    [Arthur and Michael]


    The phone gave away and broke into hundreds, if not thousands of pieces into his hand. The screen splintered, shrapnels digging into his raw, unprotected skin. Thin streaks of blood started to flow from his palm and dripped down on the carpet, making the sound of a single droplet falling into the basin from a tap, forming a thick, crimson blot.


    These damned dreams¡­ are they even remotely related to reality? Or am I just simply schizophrenic? No one knows who this is as well¡­ At least someone has to know about her¡­


    Letting out a groan, the remaining broken pieces of his phone fell from his grip.


    "Shit¡­" He mumbled to himself as he saw his phone broken and a few objects in his room floating in the air. "...get a grip." He spoke to himself, before slapping both his cheeks and making his way towards the bathroom. I will find out about it, one day or the other.

 10: The Shimmer

    ¡ª19 September 2023¡ª


    ¡ª8 am¡ª


    The frigid winds nipped at the skin with a quite frightening ferocity, like a ravenous parasite feasting on exposed flesh.


    Muttering curses under their breath, everyone¡ªthe heirs¡ªthe boys, specifically¡ªlamented at the capricious shift from a blissful, sun-drenched morning to that of howling winds and thunderous rain. The sudden change in weather smothered any lingering trace of joy, leaving behind nothing but complaining groans and utmost depression.


    Standing a little distance away from their respective rides¡ªhelicopters¡ªeveryone was looking upward at the sky.


    "I fucking hate this place!" Finn cried out loud.


    "It''s not that bad." The reply came from Arthur who was idly standing in the rain, his hair slightly drenched by it. His ashy-brown curtains still retained their shape, despite standing in the continuous downpour. "This is like a mere shower."


    "For you, yes." Finn shot back. "I come from a nice sunny place. This much rain in two days is enough to give anyone depression."


    "Do better then, I guess."


    Finn bristled, but shook his head and pressed his fingers against his eyes as he calmed himself, knowing that it was Arthur''s nature to get into people''s heads. The weaker one''s control over their own emotions got, the stronger Arthur''s advantage got.


    He seems to have come back to his senses. No gloom whatsoever. Arthur thought to himself. I guess that is how everything goes, right? We tend to forget people. Even those who are really near and dear to us.


    The girls had already left early in the morning. Since most of the boys were partying until late at night¡ªexcept Arthur¡ªthey woke up super late and not only missed out the last few hours of light, but also were now in a dilemma whether to leave in this precarious weather or not.


    "Hey¡­you''re not thinking of leaving in this weather, right?" Astrid spoke, raising her voice just enough so Arthur could hear it. Although since he was quite a little distance away, Finn and Dotun also heard her.


    Arthur glanced in her direction and then walked towards the small shelter of the looming canopy of black metal that covered quite some space right over the main door that led inside to the castle. "I am. It''s not that bad. It''s not even a storm."


    Astrid sighed and then peeked at the sky. "I know. But still¡ª there are a few things I want to ask." She spoke, her impatience visible with a tangible ardour. "Now I feel bad for getting caught up with them and not accompanying you yesterday¡­ you had something to tell me right?"


    "It''s nothing." Arthur replied, waving off his hand. "Nothing like the end of the world. So that can wait." Then glancing down at her arms which were tied in front of her in a respectful manner and the towel that draped over it, hung down, stopping just before her knees, he motioned his head in its direction. "Not going to dry me up?"


    Astrid looked down before letting out a sigh. "You''re like a grown up baby." She spoke, shaking her head before flipping the towel and wrapping it around his head. Pulling each side alternatively, she rubbed his hair dry, slowly and softly. "I feel too ashamed to even broach the subject of this whole ordeal¡­" her voice drifted away into a whimper, "...I got too excited and went off. I don''t even know what came over me." She lamented, her grip over the towel''s edges getting meek.


    Arthur''s features softened and then scrunched downwards. For some reason he felt guilty. Seeing her blame herself so much made his heart skip a beat. "It wasn''t even your fault."


    "Hmm? What do you mean?" Astrid looked up, frowning.


    A jolt went down Arthur''s spine. "Uhhh, nothing. Forget about it." Arthur spoke, his tone oddly defensive. "Anyways, what I was saying was that it''s fine to take some time off babysitting me." He spoke as Astrid looked down, her shoulders shaking as she swallowed a bubbling laughter.


    "Thanks." She mumbled, giving the towel one final rub before pulling it and hanging it from her arm.


    "Blergh." Sticking his tongue out, Michael walked from inside of the castle, his features scrunched in obvious disgust. "As if the hangover wasn''t bad enough, I have to see this guy of all people getting all lovey dovey with a normie. Fuck me." His voice was even raspier, streaks of red running through the white of his eye as he wobbled sideways. His long hair covered his face entirely. He stopped, and then focused on Dotun and Finn standing together. "Oh hello there." He greeted as the two of them waved at him.


    As if the reality of his situation had just dawned on him, he suddenly groaned. "You can''t be serious¡­ this fucking Albert. I know damn well he made me pair up with this freak."


    Maintaining a smooth veneer of composure, Arthur shot back. "Travelling with you, let''s say, doesn''t exactly top my list of preferences either." He kept his tone level. "Particularly not with someone for whom a trifling few cans of beer seem to pose an insurmountable challenge, even after a generous twelve hours of sleep."


    Arthur''s words were like a sheathed sword, ridicule veiled under a layer of subtle courtesy. Sharp but hidden. The atmosphere crackled, like tiny crackers ready to explode.


    "Wanna repeat that?"


    Arthur raised his chin and looked down at him. "Given your sorry state, I''ll deign to repeat myself just this once, out of kindness." He said, his voice laced with a patronising grace. "You''re a bother. I would prefer to go on this mission solo than to be saddled with dead weight."


    Michael''s hand extended to the side, his palm glowing. "I''ll atomise you, alright."


    Arthur''s lip curved into a sadistic sneer, his eyes glowing with a twisted delight. "I''d like to see you try."


    His own dried hair started to stand up, crackling with static as small sparks of blue lightning jumped between his fingertips.


    "Errrr, Arthur-" Astrid spoke from beside Arthur. "-I don''t think this is a good idea."


    Michael''s eyes flicked from Arthur and Astrid and a smirk formed on it.


    Astrid was also looking at Michael from the side of her eye. But it was only just one blink¡­ one blink and Michael was standing right in front of her. Before his lips could move, Arthur''s arm flicked like a whip, crackling with sparks of lightning.


    The following moment, Michael was back in his place.


    Once again, he wobbled to the side as he held his head. "Damn this headache." He cursed, clutching his snow white strands.


    "E-Eh¡­?" Astrid seemed dumbfounded. It was for a mere seconds, but she could feel her insides scream in agony. Not due to physical pain. But rather instinctive. An instinctive fear of a prey against its predator. "W-What¡­ happened?"


    Arthur was standing beside her, his hand in front of her. "A little horseplay is all."


    "Did you see what happened?" Dotun whispered to Finn.


    "If you''re talking about them almost blitzing our perception, then nay, I didn''t." Finn retorted.


    "Nah, not that." With an observant eye, Dotun lowered even down to whisper to Finn. "He just saved the girl. Isn''t that strange?"


    Finn frowned and then his eyes went wide, lightening up despite the black clouds totally overshadowing everything. "Now that you mention it¡­ this doesn''t seem like him at all."


    "I was curious as well." They continued whispering. "Normally he would''ve let Michael hit whoever was there. I suppose, much like me, Michael has also grown suspicious of the girl."


    "Suspicious?"


    "Why does goddamn ''Arthur Olvasen'', of all people, suddenly have a girl as his caretaker after all these years? And the same person is close enough to attend heirs'' meetings. Only heirs and those whose families have worked for Syndicates for generations are allowed to confide in." Dotun explained, analysing the recent bizarre events. "Three years ago, he was not like this. But recently he has been giving her an active role."


    "I mean, he has changed quite a lot from the time when we were kids. But back at the matter hand, doesn''t this mean¡­ the girl, Astrid must have a strong Arcan¡ª"


    "A very smart brain!" Dotun exclaimed with a glee. "I have to get her away from that dull rock!" He shone with excitement as Finn tried to calm him down. "You don''t understand, do you know how she spoke of the two worlds like a patch? It''s an established fact now. Earth, or rather collectively or originally, Eden, is expanding. To its original landmass. Won''t the rise and fall in tectonic plates explain the recent increase in quakes and stuff?"


    Finn ran his fingers into his head and then dishevelled them. "Too much for my brain honestly." He admitted. "But what she said does make the most sense."


    "I know right?" Dotun raised his voice a little. "And he knows of it too. That''s why he''s keeping her close. No way in hell he suddenly had a change of heart and suddenly fell in love with someone."


    Finn looked at Arthur who was talking to Astrid, completely disregarding Michael who was spewing non-stop insults. As he saw him, so vulnerable and showing his back to someone who could blow him to bits, Finn clucked, his tongue striking against the roof of his mouth. "Logically speaking, yes." Finn spoke as he averted his gaze from Arthur. "But I think he did develop a weakness after all."


    "What makes you say that? Based on behavioural patterns and the isolated growth in his hometown, he¡ª"


    "Not everything has to be logical." Finn spoke with a side eye. "Look at the way he looks at her."


    As the two of them turned their heads toward Arthur, they saw Arthur with a frown as he inspected Astrid with worry.


    Dotun was a logical man. Things like sudden curves in something as human behaviour without any catalyst was something he could not wrap his head around. However, not finding any reasonable argument to present, he exhaled from his nose slowly, half-surrendering to whatever Finn was saying. Even though his mind screamed in denial.


    As the tension crackled in the air, ready to spread like wildfire, a black miniature tornado manifested between Arthur and Michael, whipping up black embers before subsiding and revealing a man clad in purest of obsidian with jet black strands falling on his face and a pair of bone-chilling amethyst slit eyes. Albert.


    The tip of his fingers were morphed into long claws, but a certain degree of respect remained as he bowed alternatively before Arthur and Michael. "You two are partners for this mission. Please, do not make this hard for me." The smile never left his face, however the weaponised Arcanum swelling underneath his skin and inside his main node burnt like hellfire, even though the intent of harm was absent. "Have I made myself clear, young masters?"


    Arthur raised his arms. "Yep. No issues on my side."


    Michael hesitated, his words hovering at the tip of his lips like wings of a bird on the brink of flight.


    Just as he was about to speak, his lips snapped shut and his cheeks puffed out, as if his mouth was suddenly filled by something. With a gasp, he slammed his hands over his mouth and wheeled around, facing Finn and Dotun, his eyes wide with alarm.


    "Hey mate, you okay?" Finn''s voice dripped with worry as Dotun just stood there, exhaling a world-weary sigh.


    "If I were you, I''d keep a healthy distance from¡ª" Arthur''s warning got cut off as Michael¡ªwho turned a shade of green¡ªdoubled over, turning the ground into a picture of his digestive discontent. "¡ªorrrrrr just ignore what I was saying," Arthur added dryly, stepping back with a grimace that couldn''t decide between disgust and amusement.


    "Mate, what the fuc¡ª" Finn''s words twisted on his tongue, his expression contorting in barely suppressed disgust. Though the vomit was nowhere to be found, thanks to Finn''s changing its axis of impact, the mere sight of Michael emptying his stomach sent a queasy feeling in his stomach.


    Albert walked up to Michael and gripped him by both of his arms before making him stand up to his feet, giving him a tight jerk as he shook his head, trying to blink the dizziness away. His other hand appeared from the inside of his long robe as he took out a bottle of water and then respectfully presented a medicinal tablet.


    Albert''s slit eyes darted towards Dotun and Finn. "The weather is not dangerous. Rain or shine, it has been decided everyone has to leave. Immediately."


    Arms tightly folded across his chest, Dotun interjected. "Sure, the odds might be slim, but it doesn''t mean it''s safe."


    "It''s exceptionally lower," Albert insisted, his emphasis on "exceptionally" leaving no room for doubt. "The Lords'' decrees are the absolute law," he continued, his eyes gleaming. "My fidelity for Adam''s off-springs is unwavering, without a sliver of doubt, but I am educated of the ranks. And if you choose to defy their orders even subtly," he added, his tone carrying a hint of warning, "I''ve been granted the authority to use force to ensure compliance. Should the need arise, of course." He smiled.


    Arthur frowned. They must be really desperate if they''re willing Albert to use force to send us. Moreover, they must be really preoccupied with their own thing, since none of them are accompanying us. What can it be? What can possibly supersede exploring parts of Eden? Given how dangerous it is. He wondered to himself.


    "Alright, alright. Let''s not linger around for much longer." Dotun suggested as he walked over to Albert and patted Michael''s shoulder. "Get well soon, my friend." He said before nodding to Albert. Before he was about to leave the refuge of the protective canopy overhead, he turned his head towards Arthur. Or accurately speaking, Astrid. "Ehm, excuse me. May I have a word with you?"


    Astrid blinked a few times and then looked at Arthur.


    Shrugging, Arthur spoke up. "He''s talking to you, not me."


    "Eh-uhh, oh, yes, pardon my manners." She awkwardly fidgeted "Sure. How may I be of help?"


    With a glint in his eyes and a serious expression on his face, Dotun placed his hand on his chest. "Will you accompany me in this endeavour of mine to research more about the Frontiers? I am sure your presence would be really propitious if you went with me instead of these other two brutes."


    DAMN YOUUUUUUU!!!! Astrid screamed, internally, at Arthur. Since this was his fault to begin with. Instead of speaking it directly, he somehow made her talk in front of every heir. In that way, not only the other girls started approaching her but now Dotun, who was obsessed with Arcanum research, was also always looking for ways to get her help.


    Although the Syndicates were always at each other''s throats, preparation for anything that Eden might throw at them was the only thing keeping them under one roof.


    "I am not sure if I can¡­" Astrid replied with a shallow bow. "...I can''t possibly be of any help to someone as cognoscente as you. Although I am really flattered since you think so highly of me." She spoke with a practised ease, however, it was quite obvious that she was someone who did not prefer to talk much, or at least those she was not accustomed with.


    Dotun seemed flummoxed at first. Then his face lit up. "Such modesty on top of being so deeply gifted." He spoke with clenched fists, as if the idea of her talent being wasted had shattered his heart. "It''s such a pity you were born amongst Foulb¡ªnormal people." His eyes flicked towards Arthur. "I am sure she has free will, yes?"


    Arthur raised his chin, and looked straight into his eyes. His hand grabbed the back of the collar of her long coat as he pulled her back towards himself slightly. "No, she does not." He replied as Astrid looked back at him with a surprised expression. Her mind was dispersed, and Arthur''s words floated atop her ahead as she was more nonplussed by the sudden tug. An act that was not like the Arthur she knew. "She''s my property. Just as much as you own your guardian''s will to your whims, I hold her''s."


    Dotun scrutinised Arthur for a while, his playful demeanour vanishing. "Odd for you to be so expressive." He spoke, not in a mocking way, but in a tone of genuine curiosity. "And defensive. I was merely confirming." As he spoke again, Arthur''s scowl eased out. "I know it''s not my place to ask but you know how I can get in matters like this."


    "I woke up with a bad mood is all." Arthur spoke, feeling half bad at the undeserved upbraiding while still holding on to Astrid who was now looking down at her feet. "And your dear friend just made it worse."


    "This might sound prejudiced but I don''t think it''s Michael''s fault today." He narrowed his blue-grey eyes. "You are not acting as yourself."


    Arthur scratched the back of his neck and slowly let go of Astrid. "I guess."


    A hand slapped at Dotun''s back. "Come on, we are getting late. We have to leave, like right now. The forecast says it''s gonna get even worse in an hour." Finn spoke and pulled Dotun before he could reply to Arthur. As the two ran towards their helicopter, Finn looked back and shook his head at Arthur.


    "???"


    "You are oddly cranky today." Astrid pulled his attention back to herself while looking away from Michael who was muttering an incoherent string of curses. "Is it the dreams again?"


    "Mhmmm." Arthur hummed in response.


    "Do you want me to seal them away for you again?" She asked, her fragile looking hand subtly coming to life with a dim glow.


    "No, I think I will pass this time." Arthur replied.


    "I mean, I have done it before for you. I don''t think they''re the same but whatever. You can rely on me to solve it."


    Arthur contemplated her words for a while before replying. "I don''t think sealing has any kind of effect on solving the issue at hand."


    "Issue?" Astrid asked, growing wary of Michael with every moment he was regaining his sense of self.


    "I keep having the same dream. With very little alterations." His voice was barely above a whisper. "This can''t be a coincidence."


    Astrid bit on her lower lip. "I think you are overthinking. They are just dreams. I know how bad they affect you but¡­"


    "Dreams are not just chemical responses from the brain, Astrid." Arthur interjected her. "I mean they are, but I can feel it. It''s the Gods. They are trying to whisper something to me in my sleep."


    "I know you are religious but¨C" She was about to say something about Arthur overthinking and his reliance on religion or specific Gods a bit too much since she herself did not believe in Gods. However, with everything that was happening recently, she suddenly got rid of that thought. "¨Clet''s say it is that. Then what''s the point in them being cryptic if they actually want to help?"


    "Beats me, honestly." Raising his hand, he ruffled his hair with both his hands.. "I can''t make sense of anything."


    "Young Master Arthur." Albert interjected their whispering conversation.


    "Hmm? Oh yeah." Arthur snapped out of his thoughts. "Where are we going again?"


    "Korea. A frontier¡ªthe biggest one yet¡ªhas appeared in the far corner of Seoul. In the north, specifically, right between the intersection point of City of Paju and City of Uijeongbu." Albert explained, handing a file to Arthur. "The amount of Arcanum leaking out of the frontier has already caused enough panic since those who had negligible amounts of it succumbed to internal injuries."


    Arthur raised a brow. "Internal injuries?"


    Albert held his chin, thinking over it. "I am guessing it might have something to do with the primary node." He speculated. "When Earth was not stripped away from Eden, when someone shifted from an area with lower concentration to a higher concentration of Arcanum, it used to inflate their primary node in the heart, resulting in a natural increase in Arcanum capacity." As he was explaining, Michael wobbled his way towards them, keeping one ear at their conversation. "I am guessing the Arcanum is forcing its way into their dormant nodes, but after multiple aeons, I suppose biological changes were inevitable."


    Arthur hummed in agreement.


    "Whatever. The whole ordeal of our ancestors removing the knowledge of Arcanum aside from a few lineages was stupid in itself." Michael joined the conversation, his voice regaining the sharp, cruel edge to it as his hangover started to get better from the medicine Albert had given him.


    "No disrespect intended, Young Master Michael, but humans have a penchant for disaster." Albert spoke with a look of bittersweet nostalgia. "The worst enemies of humans in the end are humans themselves."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Michael let out a scoff. "I would''ve argued with you but I have this debilitating urge to barf. So excuse me."


    Saying that, Michael left the place as well and ran towards his helicopter.


    "He definitely couldn''t argue back, right?" Astrid asked with a giggle as Arthur smiled.


    "I suppose so." Arthur moved his head sideways. "But he does have a point, of sorts."


    Albert had a look of surprise on his face. "It''s rare for you to smile, Young Master."


    "Ehhhh? Really? He''s always smiling though!"


    Albert''s eyes narrowed. "Ohh?" And then he smirked. "I suppose I shouldn''t pry too much." He paused, before coughing deliberately and speaking again. "Although I''d say to be careful. Since the Arcanum amounts are so high, you and Young Master Michael have specifically been appointed. I wanted Miss Maria to accompany you as well, but well, I couldn''t just let Miss Yuki go alone. I am sure you understand the importance of this."


    "I do."


    Reaching out into the inside of his pocket, Albert took out a shining object before slipping it into Arthur''s coat. The object was small and heavy. Extremely heavy. Enough to make the long coat visibly sag down.


    "In case of an emergency." Albert replied the question that was not asked but lingered regardless. "The terrain is unknown. While your Arcane Arts make you quite versatile in our world, I am not sure if the same could be said about the other side."


    "OYYEEEE! Get your ass in here!" Michael shouted from the inside of the helicopter.


    "Hmm. Thanks for that." Arthur replied, skipping over whatever Michael had just said and slipped his hands into his pockets, feeling the lustrous surface of the object. "We should leave now." Arthur spoke as Albert bowed down. Astrid nodded with a confident expression before giving Albert a shallow bow and running after Arthur.


    ***************************


    ¨C18 September 2023-


    ¨C 11:50 pm ¨C


    ¨C New York ¨C


    Third Person


    "You and I will be going for a walk." Shoving his hands into his pocket, Lawrence turns his back on Andrew. "Come along now, a meal is always savored best once you walk it off." Unusually deceiving of his build, the large man begins his brisque stroll.


    Stepping into the open air, the streets were cloaked in the dark glow of the moonlight, the surroundings only staying aglow from the many streetlights littered throughout the entire city. Lawrence''s stride was matched by the hesitant shuffle of Andrew, who fell several steps behind the other man.


    "You''re interesting to me in a lot of ways, boy." Lawrence remarked, his voice cutting through the nightly silence. "You have affluence and influence, and now your strength¨Calthough infantile¨Cis steadily growing."


    Andrew swallowed hard, still overly cautious of the one ahead of him. "My strength¡­ you''re aware that I''ve awakened to the effects of arcanum?"


    Lawrence shot him a withering glance over his shoulder, his expression a mix of stupefied annoyance. "Do you seriously need to ask such a stupid question? To put it in terms that your foulborn ape brain can understand, you can innately sense something from me, yes?" Despite how feeble your arcanum is, I can just barely sense something inside of you."


    They entered a stairwell and climbed upwards finding themselves in one of the abundant yet small parks in New York.


    "It''s also why you had such an¡­ amusing reaction." Lawrence continued, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I released just a minuscule amount of my arcanum, but yet that was enough to completely overwhelm and overstimulate your senses. Since your body is now becoming attuned to arcanum, it is only natural for your body to develop an inherent capability to sense arcanum."


    Andrew''s mind raced with questions. He knew that the man before him held an immense wealth of knowledge, but yet he found himself at a loss for words, unsure of what he could ask.


    "Speak, boy. I assume you''re smart enough to not ask anything moronic."


    "...Why are you telling me anything?" Andrew asked, his tone combined with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.


    "I''ve told you before, you''ve grown interesting." Lawrence replied with a casual shrug. "A new toy, something fun to play with until I grow bored of you. As long as you remain on the path you are on, you may grow into someone similar to your older brother."


    The mention of Logan sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through Andrew''s being. Grief, sadness, but predominantly rage slipped through the cracks of his mask.


    "Control your anger mutt." Lawrence snapped, his tone that of one disciplining a dog. "Your strained arcanum is not pleasant to feel against my back. I had nothing to do with his death, although I''d be lying to say that I wasn''t interested in snuffing him out myself. I would''ve enjoyed seeing his power personally¡­"


    Andrew took a deep breath, his fists clenched at his sides as he attempted to rein in his emotions. "Please pardon my earlier faults." He muttered through gritted teeth. "It was unbecoming of myself."


    "Bah, at least you''re quick to know your place. Just remember boy, I told you to control your anger, not quell it."


    Andrew frowned. "What do you mean by that?"


    Lawrence''s grin turned predatory, his eyes glinting with malice.


    "Let''s just say¡­ that there exists a certain family that irritates me to no end." he drawled, his words dripping with tangible contempt. "Interestingly enough about them though, a couple of decades ago, this family appeared to save and hire a certain outsider brat that just happened to have an incredible untrained potential to arcanum."


    Stroking his chin, as if he is in deep thought. "If memory recalls¡­ he had golden blonde hair, and¡­" Lawrence then fixed his gaze on Andrew. "...Seemingly crimson red eyes."


    Andrews''s features harden, recognition dawning. "...Logan." he breathed.


    Lawrence nonchalantly shrugs. "Who knows? Whoever that brat was, around a decade of loyal service later, he vanished. Disappeared. It''d seem that he had run away. This was an issue of concern, in accordance with our laws, any deserters pose a threat to the security and well-being of Arcanic Society."


    With a sneer, he continues. "Anyone deemed to be a deserter is to either be apprehended and seized effective immediately or¡­ executed."


    "I see, I understand now." Andrew began to rub the bridge of his nose.


    "Hold on, brat. I haven''t quite finished yet. In standard procedure, the ones who are responsible for carrying out the sentencing are the traitor''s initial patron family."


    "Do you understand what I''m trying to hint at, boy? That''s why I took time out of my very precious schedule to come to meet with you?" The much more imposing man took several steps forward, uncaring and callously breaking through the lesser man''s personal space.


    "Your anger, your hate, they belong to the ones that I detest. To the ones that are better off being completely blown to nothingness."


    Andrew took a step back, feeling overwhelmed.


    "Your precious Logan Ashford¨Cdon''t you wish to avenge him? Shatter the spines of those who unjustifiably took his life? You are capable of doing so. You have the power to take your revenge against the ones who struck you unforgivably first."


    A silent rage began to seep through the cracks of Andrew, his heart felt so very hollow, yet it thrummed with an energy never felt before.


    The usual feigned glint of life in Andrew''s eyes had all but faded. Replaced by something so very alien, yet familiar.


    "Who are they?"


    Lawrence smiled, genuinely for the first time in a while. He had succeeded in what he had initially come for after all.


    "Their area of jurisdiction spans the entirety of Europe, they stand as the most powerful family in the continent, with many smaller factions under their sphere of influence. Their home, the country that they predominately reside in is Norway. They are¡­"


    He deliberately pauses, assumingly for dramatic effect.


    "The Olvasens."


    ***************************


    ¡ª19 September 2023¡ª


    ¡ª 11 am¡ª


    Arthur Olvasen


    After an hour long close seated flight by helicopter, we finally arrived at our first layover which was actually Stockholm, Sweden. After that we were taken to the airport, where a jet was already waiting for us.


    Astrid hates Sweden, but in all honesty, it''s just the usual banter between the Northern European countries. The bias expressed is kind of an inside joke. That aside, Astrid and Michael were both confused about why we had to take a jet from Stockholm, instead of directly from Oslo. And the reason is quite simple actually.


    Since Oslo is inland and is surrounded by mountains, the visibility and weather factor there is much more unstable. This can be said for the whole country in general. Whereas Stockholm is situated on the eastern coast of Sweden, where the Baltic Sea can moderate the climate slightly.


    Once we boarded the jet, the long and gruelling 8-hour journey from Stockholm to Seoul finally started. There won''t be any more layovers, at least. That''s a relief.


    As I looked outside the window, I saw the fluffy white clouds underneath completely blanket the view of any landmass or sea underneath and the sun shone blindingly, casting an oddly comforting spell on me. It was warm, despite the air conditioning inside the jet.


    Looking at the translucent reflection of myself in the window, I gazed back into my eyes which were so pale in colour that I had to focus to actually catch a glimpse of them.


    Looking down, my skin seemed more akin to a dead person than a living, breathing one. Pale and cold, like a hardened layer of ice underneath the golden drapery of sunlight constantly filtering in from the window. Placing my head on the window, I continued to look outside.


    It was bright. Really bright. It felt like I was in a foreign world. An alien.


    I had never been to another country before. Or even any other city other than Bergen¡ªwhere I was born, Oslo¡ªwhere my father takes me for meetings and Hammerfest¡ªwhere I found Astrid. Even the notion of going outside Norway before the whole process of merger accelerated seemed surreal. Perhaps amidst the incoming course of events, even my mother is not able to influence my movements anymore.


    A thought settled into the back of my head, followed by the formation of a dry lump of saliva that lodged itself into the back of my throat. What if she wants me to think like this? What if she thinks she is powerless when actually she''s the one who''s giving me hope¡­ again¡­


    Removing my head from the support for a second, I slammed it back into it to get rid of these troubling thoughts. Perhaps overthinking is exactly what she wants¡­


    I slammed my head again. Don''t overthink overthinking¡­ forget about it. Forget everything. Focus on the now. I repeatedly chanted to myself.


    Of course when I slammed my head, it was the side, and not the window. I am not a dumbass.


    "This is so cool~" Astrid enunciated, twirling around as she did before slipping into the seat right in front of me. "Hey, you didn''t tell me your parents were this rich."


    This again¡­


    "They''re not." I replied almost instantly, my voice coming out higher in pitch than usual, drowning the rhythmic hum of the turbine blades. A smile crept up her face at the change in my voice but she bit at her upper lip, trying hard to not laugh out loud.


    Well, fuck me.


    I coughed. "This is funded by the joint account of the Seven Syndicates." I continued anyway, without waiting for her to say anything.


    "Still¡­" Her voice was whisked away as she looked around excitedly. Her fingers trailed along the burlwood counter with multiple glasses and bottles before slipping into the seat right in front of me that was separated by a white marbled table. "...you look pretty wired."


    "Still?" I asked, mildly surprised. I think I have calmed down a lot.


    Astrid tapped her little little finger and then the others in a rhythmic beat before stopping. The sunlight protruding from the windows cast a single, shard shaped ray on her left eye, illuminating the blue of her iris. "No, I mean, before this." She spoke, the shadow over the other half of her face darkening. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream, or whatever''s bothering you."


    I took a deep breath and sunk back into the seat. Closing my eyes my mind wandered off into a distant valley, like the warm gust of a wind on a summer morning. I tried to focus.


    The concentration subsumed every other thing happening around me. Like noise cancelling headphones filtering out any noise, I felt the same happening to me but to all of my senses. The hum of turbines faded into oblivion and Astrid''s face turned hazy, the distinction between each feature blurring before contorting and mixing like a thick concoction of different colours.


    The cold touch of the marbled table and the warm feel of the rays of sun slowly vanished, leaving me with a sense of nothingness.


    And that small moment of not existing inside that particular place was interrupted as my senses expanded multiple kilometres away from where I was. Much lower. On solid ground.


    Concentrate the force. I told myself.


    As if answering to my effort, I was finally able to see. Amongst the tall skyscrapers that manifested like a 3D model inside my brain, I probed for something. Something extremely particular. The information about it was vague as I tried to follow it with whatever little wisps of imagination I had inside my mind.


    My mind tried to wander back to Astrid who was waiting for a reply from me, however, I pushed it back. All the thoughts except the task of locating something tangible that could resonate with my Arcanum vanished from my mind. After what felt like mere seconds, I felt something. Something akin to a net-cloth¡ªthat was lathered in slime¡ªmantling an entire city. Covering it like a dome, but sticking to it instead of maintaining a shape.


    I tried to push against it. Brute-force my way in. But a wave of something¡­ most likely a magnetic wave hit my consciousness like a truck.


    And then, like a video being played in reverse, my focus returned and I found myself back into my seat. Astrid was looking intently at me. From the look on her face I could tell it had not been long. Although her legs were crossed and she was shaking her resting foot, it was still safe to assume I was not in trouble.


    "It''s nothing much." I tried to brush off her concern.


    Her sapphire orbs peered deep into mine before arching her head to the side, making the side ponytail swish in tandem with her head movement. She had removed her coat and was now sitting in her cream coloured sweater. The corner of her eyes creased even more as her stare intensified.


    Somebody, help!


    "Staring isn''t going to make me change my statement, just so you know it." I tried to clear the misunderstanding she seemed to be sheltering inside her head.


    "I''m not staring for that reason!" After a prolonged moment of open-mouthed gawk, she eventually spoke, breaking the silence. "You can''t expect to go Doctor Strange on me and then say it''s nothing!"


    Oh yeah¡­ I forgot my physical body does get affected.


    "Uhhh-" I tried to think of something. Perhaps my expression gave away the attempt at lying that Astrid''s cheeks inflated as she pouted, inching a little closer at me. Giving up on trying to conjure up more lies, I exhaled, shaking my head. "That was an application of my Arcane Arts." I replied, and then without waiting for her to speak, I continued. "Is that enough?"


    That last bit was totally unnecessary. I thought. Of course that would not be enough. After all that had happened until now, it would be strange if it was enough.


    "Hahhhh!? Do you really think that is enough?!" Her thin fingers spread out on the table as she placed her hands on the table, albeit with quite some force. "You said you will tell me about everything! I need to know."


    The words that came out of her mouth were much more crude than her time when she was around others. But she was not the one to blame. I had tried quite a lot to make her get accustomed to me. Be herself. Leaning on my hand, I smiled at her.


    "Didn''t you say you don''t want to know?" I tried to tease. "Back in Bergen. The day when we were attacked."


    Astrid''s enthusiasm to squeeze information out of me calmed down a little as her eyes flicked from me to the ceiling, as if recollecting something. However, not even 2 seconds later, she let out a grumble. "Urgh, scratch that, I don''t remember." She threw her arms over the table until it had completely covered the surface area and were now almost touching me. "Just tell me!"


    Should I tease her more? But I suppose this won''t count as teasing. The more I thought about it, the more I realised it sounds more like avoiding a question. If I did it repeatedly, she might stop asking. For good. It would be a good thing but that might harbour some kind of negativity inside her heart for me.


    I couldn''t let that happen.


    "Fine, fine, calm down." I raised my arms in a placating manner.


    Her eyes lit up as soon as I said that and she returned back to her original posture.


    Letting a few moments pass peacefully and using them to gather my thoughts about every aspect that she could question, I steadied myself. "Hm, so where should I start?"


    She was about to say something, evident from how quickly her lips parted and fluttered like the wings of a bird on its first flight. Her mind must be getting claustrophobic with so many thoughts and questions inhabiting her mind. "One thing at a time." I tried to ease the visible dilemma she was having. Realising what I meant, she extruded a shallow breath.


    Once she had seemingly organised her thoughts, she spoke.


    "Promise you won''t mind me asking this." Instead of a question that I was expecting, she spoke something entirely else.


    "I won''t."


    "You don''t even know what I am about to say." She deadpanned at me.


    "I don''t. But you should know by now." Resting my temple on my knuckle, I smiled. "I won''t mind."


    "Okay." She readied herself. I could feel her chest rise. As if she was about to say something in one fell swoop. "What¡­ are you?" She paused for a while in between but recovered pretty quickly.


    However, as much amused I was by the whole scenario of her struggling to get a few words out, the question felt¡­ oddly strange.


    What was I?


    I had no answer to that question. My memories of my childhood are hazy. Despite having a decent memory, I have forgotten most of the things from the time before I turned 11. And no matter how much this sudden loss of memories doesn''t make sense, my body still remembers. The odd tremble I feel around my mother.


    This feeling of loss, longing¡­ an intense craving for love. Craving that I don''t consciously feel but it lingers as a constant need. A need I don''t think is necessary, yet it stays. Like a scar from a deep wound.


    Everything. It feels foreign. Like a spectre inhibiting my body. It was odd. Very odd.


    Am I even myself? The image I have of myself, is it really who I think I am or is even this forged?


    I had no way to tell.


    A spark ran across my mind, electrifying my senses and dulling them. Like a bulb slowly dimming before getting snuffed out, I felt the world go grey for a solid few seconds.


    I licked my lip and then smacked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.


    Now was not the time to think about those things.


    "I don''t¡­" I paused. I was being inconsiderate. I told her I was going to tell her if she asked. Even if she changed her mind, I had to keep my word. Wasn''t this what I promised her on that stormy night? Swallowing a lump of saliva, I altered my initial answer. "I am me."


    The hell am I even saying?


    Astrid frowned, the skin right above her nose''s base crinkling.


    Expecting a snarky reply, I slipped back into my seat.


    "That''s good enough."


    Much to my surprise, the reply was totally different than what I had expected.


    "What''s enough?"


    As if holding a wand, she twirled it into circles before pointing the make-believe wand at me. "As long as you are my Arthur, I have nothing else to ask."


    I felt my lip tremble. Suppressing the urge to grin, I looked out of the window. "Your Arthur?"


    I was not looking at her. But if I did, I was sure I could see her getting all embarrassed. The reply never came. As I looked back, something white coloured crashed against my face.


    "Don''t twist my words¡­ you know what I meant!" She was squealing, her hands over the pillow as she continued to suffocate me.


    Dear Goddess Hestia. Protect me. Your believer is dying a death unbecoming of him!


    As if she had heard my prayers, the force behind the pillow disappeared. Removing the pillow from my face, I saw up. She was looking the other way, her side pony facing me. Without looking at me, she talked. "I am still curious about your powers though."


    Well, I guess, I should give her a quick rundown on it. I don''t need to completely explain it now, do I?


    ¡ª-----------------------


    3rd person POV


    (5:30 PM)


    The sky over Seoul was already dark, the receding saffron claws of the sun nowhere in sight anymore.


    The temperature was much more dry, and bearable.


    The trio¡ªArthur, Michael and Astrid¡ªwere walking through the thick crowd of people in the opposite direction of them.


    Arthur and Astrid had removed the extra pair of warm clothings over them as Arthur was now only wearing a white T-shirt with a grey straight-lined open overshirt on top, complimented well by the black pants and white shoes. A band of sorts, apparently made from an old, thin and worn out material was strapped to his left wrist.


    Medium length ash-brown hair was styled in shaggy curtains as it lined the side of his face, and stopped just beneath his brows. He was walking in a straight line, without looking at people much, his mind unfocused.


    Astrid was walking a step ahead of him¡ªas it was instructed by Arthur himself¡ªwearing a black round neck woollen dress that stopped at her waist and joined into the skirt that was a lighter shade of black. Her sleeves were oversized but narrowed down around her wrist. The skirt reached down, beneath her knees. She was wearing heeled leather boots that reached just below her knee as well, covering her legs completely. The heels made her stand only an inch shorter than Arthur.


    She was frolicking around energetically, looking at the city with awe.


    "Hehe, I have always wanted to come here." She spoke as more and more people walked past them. "Although not in this way, I am still very happy!" She continued to talk.


    "Hmm." Arthur hummed mindlessly.


    The northern part of the city was currently being evacuated after the Frontier had appeared, or more specifically, latched itself on Seoul''s northern border. Although they were still some distance away from the frontier, a lot of people were walking away from this place, leaving the whole northern area as a whole.


    The place was flooded by mostly military and police officers wearing bulletproof vests and laced with appropriate weapons. Although they stayed inside their armed cars and didn''t come outside. A few small food vendors were the only ones to stay behind, in hopes of earning some extra money. Which was working seeing how the army personnel and some police officers depended on them for breakfast, lunch and dinner during their duty to overlook the proper evacuation.


    "Wooh, it''s not as cold." Michael commented, his voice rasp as ever, making Astrid almost jump at the sudden utterance. "But it''s not as hot as you two are making it out to be." He continued, looking around. Michael was wearing a black sweater over a buttoned shirt. The white collars protruded out of the upper part of the sweater, revealing the upper two buttons undone and the edges of his shirt were also outside his short sweater.


    With tight black pants that stopped before his ankles and black trainers, he seemed like a really charismatic model. His long white hair was tied back into the usual small bun with a small rubber and two locks framed the sides of his face. A long necklace coiled around his neck with a thin and long glass container at its end that dangled freely over his sweater.


    It had a hexagonal shape and had a small chunk of something inside it. Like a rock and it was floating inside it.


    "It''s not cold at all." Arthur replied, blowing his hair away that were poking into his lashes.


    "Of course the snow bug doesn''t feel cold." Michael scoffed before adjusting his hair slightly. "But eh, it really isn''t that much so I guess you are right."


    "See? Not that hard to admit I am right." Arthur shot a glance at him.


    "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Raising his hands in a shrug he spoke. "Dingus."


    "Hey, Arthur, look! It''s a Pajeon vendor!" Astrid called out for him before crossing the street while avoiding bumping into the people.


    Letting out a sigh, Arthur stopped. "If you want, you can go ahead. I will be right back."


    Michael smirked. "Really considerate of your girlfriend, aren''t ya? Even putting the mission in jeopardy."


    Arthur deadpanned. "She''s not my girlfriend. And stopping to eat something for a few minutes won''t put the mission in jeopardy."


    "Whatever helps you sleep better."


    Seemingly irritated by his antics and unnecessary mockery at everything, Arthur turned around and walked over to Astrid. It was a small stall with a young girl as the seller and an old man¡ªlikely her grandpa¡ªat the back, sitting in a chair as he overlooked the girl.


    The girl was short with shoulder length dark brown hair and black-brown eyes. Her hair was styled in the typical bangs over her forehead. While she was talking happily to Astrid in English, Arthur approached her.


    "You know about this dish?" He asked, looking at the small pan sizzling from the oil cooking the batter.


    "Yep, I''ve seen it all on youtube." Astrid replied with a smile, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the smoke rising. "I am such a fan of Korean culture¡­ oh my God, I still can''t believe I am here!" She spoke with such an excited tone that made Arthur tilt his head.


    "You are oddly excited."


    "Of course! Now only if I could meet my idols. I can die in peace after that."


    "They''ve already left the country most likely." Arthur spoke as Astrid turned and pouted.


    "Take that back. Don''t jinx it, please."


    As they were talking, the sizzle intensified as the girl turned¡ªwhat looked like a pancake made of scallions, seafood and kimchi¡ªover.


    "First time? Korea?" The girl asked, mustering up whatever foreign language she could speak while looking up at Arthur who was gawking at the foreign dish.


    "Yeah." He replied, not removing his gaze from it. "Is it a Seoul delicacy or is it common throughout the Republic of Korea?"


    "Uhhh¡ªuhmmm¡­." The girl blinked repeatedly.


    "What he''s asking is if it''s common food." Michael arrived from behind, standing at the same height as Arthur, as he spoke in fluent Korean.


    "Ah, yes, it is. E-Especially in the north. Paju." The girl replied, awestruck as she gawked with an open mouth at Michael.


    Looking away from her, he directed Arthur. "It''s a common thing in here, she says."


    "You can speak Korean?" Arthur raised a brow.


    "Yeah, I had to learn 3 languages. So I picked it up ''cause I had a feel for it." He shrugged nonchalantly.


    "He suddenly doesn''t look like an idiosyncratically pretentious bastard anymore." Astrid commented from Arthur''s side.


    "I heard that, you mudblood!" Michael barked, pointing his finger at her.


    "Whoops¡­." Hiding behind Arthur, she peeked over his shoulder. "...sorry."


    #


    No I am not sorry, at all! Her out loud and mental thoughts were in total conflict with each other. How dare he call me mudblood! Even though I can use magic!


    "Tch." Michael clicked his tongue before flicking his hair backwards with an exaggerated expression.


    Nope. He''s still pretentious.


    Turning their heads back, the girl had already placed six Pajeons on a plate, stacked over each other as she extended it towards Astrid. Taking out a few notes of local currency from his wallet, Arthur handed it to the girl who took it from his hand, but her eyes never left Michael.


    Then, as soon as she received the money, she took out another disposable plate and placed two more pancakes on it and presented it to Michael.


    Raising a brow, he looked down at her. "I didn''t order this." He flicked his hand, as if dismissing a slave.


    With a rosy tint still present on her face, she replied. "It''s a gift. Since it''s your first time here." She replied with a suppressed smile, biting down at her lower lip.


    Smacking his lips, he took the plate from her and winked with a wide grin, making the girl blush even more. After that he engaged in a conversation with her.


    The girl''s name was Minji, and she was a highschool student. She was helping her grandpa with her stall right before they left the city. Since the northern part is bound to be 100% evacuated one day or the other, they had decided to linger around for as much as they could before leaving and earning some extra cash while they were at it.


    "So, you are from America?"


    She asked Michael, totally disregarding Astrid who was trying to get along with someone from Korea. Meanwhile Arthur was more focused on the food than whatever was happening around him.


    "Yep." He replied, the sly smile never leaving his lips. His sharp golden orbs scrutinised her from head to toe as he licked his lips once more. "Have you ever thought of coming to America?" He continued. "This place is kinda shit anyways."


    "It''s not that bad¡­" She replied, stealing a glance back at her grandpa who was sitting in an uptight posture and looking at Michael with a wrinkled nose, as if frowning. "...but, it does sound good."


    As he finished the food, he leaned down, placing his arm by the side of metal welded as a bar. "Then how about¡­"


    Before he could talk, the plate in Arthur''s hand fell down with a wet, mushy plop.


    As Astrid and Michael both glanced in his direction, their eyes widened as trails of blood seeped out from Arthur''s eyes.


    Tears of blood.


    Blinking rapidly, Arthur took out a piece of cloth from his pocket and wiped his eyes with it. There was no tremble in his hands, nor a rush of panic visible.


    He stayed calm, however, a sense of confusion persisted.


    The fabric soaked up the crimson trails trickling from his tear ducts, but instead of cleaning them, it just smeared the blood across his face, leaving a dried, red blotch mess across his pale skin.


    "Arthur!" Dropping the plate in her hand, Astrid cupped Arthur''s face as a few more streaks of red continued to flow down his eyes. "Hey, hey, what''s happening??" She panicked, her fingers and palm glowing in a dim light as Arcanum flowed from her body in the form of small spherical motes via the physical touch.


    Michael looked around and then locked his eyes with Arthur.


    "Where?"


    "The shimmer." Without betraying a single emotion, both Arthur and Michael kept impassive faces. "It''s expanding from The Frontier." He spoke and then placed his hands over Astrid''s.


    Looking through his blood stained vision, he patted Astrid''s head who had almost sealed away the blood spill from his eyes. "Don''t worry about me." He spoke, wiping the tears rolling down her cheek.


    "How?! What''s this? What''s happening?" She snapped, her eyes carrying multiple red streaks.


    "There''s interference." Michael commented from the side before sliding a piece of paper to the girl and prompting her to leave. Picking up the necessary things, she was already leaving with her grandfather.


    "Interference?"


    "Astrid, hear me out." Arthur grabbed Astrid''s attention, tightly squeezing her delicate hands in his own. His eyes were focused, determined¡­ and somewhat excited. For the first time in a very long time, Astrid could feel that he was alive. Truly alive. As his eyes brimmed with life, and her''s with tears, she wiped them with the sleeve and nodded.


    "Yes?"


    "Stay here, ok?" She was about to open her mouth in denial, however, Arthur spoke again. "Seal the entrance to the Frontier."


    Astrid gawked at him and then back at Michael who seemed to be getting more and more impatient with every passing moment. "What? There''s so much wrong with this plan."


    "Just do as I say."


    "But that would trap you inside it as well." Astrid retorted, not budging from her standpoint.


    "It won''t." Arthur shook his head. "It''s expanding. Merging back." He took a steady breath. "Whatever is inside that Frontier is messing with my powers. You need to seal it until we are done with the problem inside." He spoke and turned around immediately.


    "No!" Astrid grabbed onto his arm. "You can''t. I won''t leave you alone. Not again."


    "Oh for fuck''s sake, come on now, ain''t nobody got time for opera, damn it!" Michael barked.


    "Can you please shut your mouth for one goddamn second??" Astrid snapped.


    At the same moment a translucent shimmer, something like a slimy cloth started to extend outwards from the confined, sealed boundaries of the Frontier. For the first few seconds it continued to spread and wave, like a piece of dirty, repulsive cloth.


    However, a mere blink later, the shimmer solidified and a crack ran all along it.


    "It''s about to break." Arthur mumbled underneath his breath.


    "Oh, fuck me. This wasn''t on the memorandum. As if that was not enough, now your slave is talking down to me." Michael grumbled, grabbing on to his necklace and was about to yank it out.


    "No, stop. Don''t use your Arcane Arts." Arthur flicked his gaze between Astrid and the continuously cracking shimmer overhead. The shimmer turned opaque, hazing the sight of the clear sky above. "There are too many people around."


    "Damn it." Realising that there were too many people who could die in a collateral damage to his Arcane Arts, Michael let out a frustrated groan.


    "Arthur, I am coming with you. I am not a baby." She insisted, holding Arthur firmly by his arm.


    He glanced back at Michael who raised his shoulders in a shrug. "Your responsibility. I won''t be saving her ass if she gets into trouble just so you know."


    Shaking his head, Arthur shrugged off the thoughts that crowded his mind like rush-hour traffic. "Fine."


    He mumbled and the three of them started to run towards The Frontier.


    As they ran, they encountered a few more people, all of which were running in their opposite direction now.


    The sound of a helicopter''s blades whirring made them look up.


    Beneath the canopy of multiple fighter jets, three helicopters were flying towards the Frontier. At the same time, the asphalt rumbled as tanks, heavy artillery and other vehicles started to also move in the same direction on the road leading to the North. People were scurrying¡ªsome screaming in fear and some shouting for their lost loved ones¡ªto get as far away as possible from the area.


    There was someone talking on the microphone. Shouting something in Korean. However, a minute later some kind of distorted jitter overwhelmed its mechanism and the voice was snuffed out, buried beneath a layer of disturbing static mixed with horrifying, garbled screams and vicious snarls.


    "They''re out already, Goddamn it!" Michael bolted forward. As his speed increased, the ground beneath him splintered underneath the raw force. The next moment, he shot forward like a bullet, leaving behind multiple small pits as every powerful step he took broke some of the road. Jumping upwards, he climbed up the roof of one of the houses and then continued to jump until he was atop a small building.


    Before they knew, Michael was out of sight, hopping from one building to another.


    Arthur stopped for a moment beside an alley and pulled Astrid by her hand. Pinning her against the wall and crashing his hand beside her head and using his other hand to hold the top of her head which was still trembling. "Listen to me, very carefully, Astrid." He spoke and the dull grey voids brightened up, turning a pallid shade of gold. "I want you to put all of your Arcanum into the seal that you would be putting on the entrance of the Frontier."


    "But I am coming with yo¡ª"


    Before she formed the entire sentence, Arthur gripped her face, making her lips pout. She squinted her eyes from the force of his grip. "This is not the time for this." His tone was grave and the glow in his eyes flickered. "Everyone will die if you do not do it. Thousands of people. Do you want that?"


    Still taken aback by the harshness in his demeanour, she merely shook her head.


    "Whatever it is, it''s interfering with my powers. I need to catch up with Michael. Once I do, I need you to hold the seal for as long as possible." He explained as he let go of her. "And if we are not back by the time it''s done¡­" he paused and took his phone out. "...contact Maria."


    Astrid breathed out a trembling breath. Putting her hand on his phone, she placed Arthur''s other hand on his own. "That won''t happen. I believe in you."


    "It''s not a matter of belief. I am suggesting the most logical thing."


    "But it is, Arthur." Astrid''s eyes were aglow. "It is. It is a matter of belief. Won''t the seal I put require my belief in the Goddess?"


    "It would require, yes, but for others." Arthur spoke as he slipped his phone into her hands anyways. "Your Arcane Arts bypass that necessity."


    "But Arthu¨C"


    Before she could talk, Arthur''s entire form was enveloped by a net of lightning. A nimbus consisting of blue, red and purple lightning coiled like snakes around him before whisking his form away with a thunderclap. Looking down, there was nothing more than a giant dent of half-molten pavement.


    A sigh escaped Astrid''s lips. Biting back the negative emotions threatening to creep up inside her, she raised her head, avoiding the eyes from precipitating. As she sniffled and bit at her lip to get rid of the continuous tremble in her legs, she finally saw it.


    The shimmer. Something Arthur and Michael had been talking about but she couldn''t make sense of until now. Stretched across the night sky like an evil version of a rainbow. Like the rainbow had gone through decay and was then turned into a slime-like structure lathered over a thin piece of cloth.


    I need to get going¡­ Arthur is right. This isn''t the time for my childish antics. She spoke to herself. He has done so much for me. It''s time I make myself useful. With renewed optimism, she pumped her hands into fists and focused on the task at hand. Peeking from the alley, she made sure that all army vehicles were gone before sneakily following them. I will seal the entrance.

 11: Thunderclap - â… 

    ARTHUR OLVASEN


    The cacophony of thunderclaps arrived a second after the Lorentz Contraction¡ªcontraction of objects in the periphery¡ªleft my sight due to the speed at which I was travelling. My overwhelmed senses¡ªfrom the mixed colours of everything in conjunction with the little lighting¡ªreturned back to normal as I blinked a few times.


    A few seconds of utter silence passed before something exploded¡­ no, landed right by my side. A tremor coursed through the entirety of the road that had now caved in to my left side. Looking from the corner of my eye, I saw Michael, a huge scowl over his face as his eyes glowed eerily.


    The sound of army and police vehicles was still there, but everyone seemed to be going towards the Frontier. The place from where the shimmer was expanding.


    "What escaped from the Frontier?" Michael asked, his arcanum taking an almost tangible form around him, and hissed against my own. However, his aura was like an agitated, hungry beast, ready to pounce on its prey at a moment''s notice.


    "Beats me." I replied, just as unsure as him. We had personal differences, yes, however, if we kept them at this moment, it can result in both of us dying. Our arcanum reserves were really low, compared to even middle class monsters in Eden.


    Or that is what makes logical sense according to Dotun''s calculations of years of famine of ambient Arcanum and our body getting used to it.


    And if a higher grade threat had escaped from there and we are busy in personal scuffles, we both might die. Thankfully, despite being simple minded, Michael could understand our current predicament and merely nodded in response to my answer.


    "And it''s messing with Arcane Arts as well, yeah?" He confirmed without looking at me. "Ah fuck! Without proper intel or location, there''s only so much we could do." He clenched his teeth. "Only so many people we can save."


    It was quite surprising. Thinking deeply over it, there was a high chance we could die here as well. However, he was still thinking about others. And exactly because he doesn''t seem like this kind of person, hearing him say all of this makes it all so unbelievable.


    "We don''t have to save everyone." I replied, voicing my thoughts. "Our primary objective should be to mitigate the bigger threat. Sacrifices are always necessary."


    Just from the way his Arcanum blistered like a volcano bubble popping, I could tell how agitated he was. But he stayed silent.


    "It''s messing with the magnetic field." I tried to change the topic. "That''s why it''s quite hard to pinpoint it."


    "We don''t have enough time though. We can''t just jump into the Frontier and leave the threat that has escaped alive." Michael retorted, his frustration boiling over as he kicked a lamp pole. Its foundations juddered before getting uprooted as it went flying into the nearby car, causing it to create a sudden, systematic start of every car beeping. "Oh fuck me!"


    Ignoring him who was letting out frustrated breaths and gnashing his teeth, I tried to focus on locating it..


    My¡ªThe Olvasens'' Arcane Arts revolved around Magnetic and Electric fields.


    Electromagnetism, in a simpler and much more familiar context.


    The Arcane Arts that allowed the users to detect, follow, and with enough training manipulate them. However, everyone in the Olvasens was born somewhere on a wide spectrum.


    The Arcane Art was related to electromagnetism, but it didn''t allow one to use all of its applications. Just like how my father¡ªAksel Olvasen¡ªcould only use electrical fields. As an external application. My mother''s arcane arts is much more complex, since internal application of our Arcane Arts is always intricate. Multifaceted.


    Back to the main topic at hand. Whatever had escaped the Frontier was my natural enemy. It was interfering with the magnetic field I was using to detect anything out of the ordinary. Well, it was not interfering perse, however, it''s method of communication was via waves. Almost the same frequency as my pseudo SONAR.


    Letting out a deep breath, I turned on my heel and faced Michael. "Cover me for a moment. I will try once again." I spoke and then closed one of my eyes, keeping the other open. Waiting. Waiting for whatever he was about to say.


    "Haven''t you tried that already?"


    "Do we have a choice?"


    He licked his upper lip and then shook his head a few times, as if talking to himself in his mind. His intentions were quite clear. "Fine. But I will give you 5 minutes. After that I am leaving to find it myself and then head to the Frontier." He spoke, his tone impatient. "And do not expect me to save you. I am not your little clingy girl."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I don''t think there was a need to bring up Astrid here¡­ whatever. "Fair enough."


    Not wasting any more time, I closed my other eye as well and focused my mind. The already palpable layer of Arcanum around me got snuffed out like a candle and I absorbed it inwards.


    Focusing on the inside, the Arcanum¡ªlike molten gold being poured in a mould¡ªwas flowing like blood through my veins, accelerating and decelerating according to need across the various nodes spread throughout my body.


    With concentration honed over years of practice and suffering¡ªevents I had more of a muscle memory rather than recollection¡ªI grabbed a hold of my Arcanum.


    Like a balloon inside another balloon, as the inner one automatically expands the other one¡ªupon blowing inside it¡ªas I took hold of Arcanum, it took a hold of senses in return and expanded it outwards.


    Every sense. I could make use of it in an extremely enhanced way. Despite closing my eyes, and trying my best to bar away any foreign sound, I could hear everything in the vicinity. See everything. Feel it. With an almost uncomfortable clarity.


    The sound of my nails biting into my palm and grazing against the skin as my concentration strengthened, the tread design of Michael''s sole as it scraped against the asphalt, the sound of wind coming from the northeast, the clamour of soldiers marching, the clatter of tanks as they went over a speed bump, Astrid''s heel clipping, the wafting smell of the Pajeon we were eating and had dropped to the ground due to the abrupt change in circumstances¡­


    Useless.


    These are not what I was trying to find or discern. As the overload of information flooded my mind, a strained shiver ran through my head and then down into my body.


    Focus! I reminded myself. Pain was not a new concept to me. This much was nothing. Perhaps I might be gritting my teeth, but the concentration in maintaining the hyperacute perception made me unable to focus on anything else.


    My senses expanded like a dome, outwards, more and more. And the more it did, the more I felt like I was losing my grasp on my body, the strain on the continuously fraying ends of my nerves serving as the only reminder - tether back to my normal self.


    As the dome of my enhanced perception increased from the street where I was and the one adjacent to it, it expanded more, engulfing blocks after blocks.


    A thin tremor ran through my heart, the reserves of Arcanum taking a hit. It was the first time it was happening. After all, I had never needed to conduct a search this big before. It felt like my heart was being cooked in lukewarm water.


    Not that I had any experience in this¡­ thing, but if I had to put this feeling in words, this was the only way I could explain it.


    Extrapolating the naturally existing magnetic field, I grabbed a hold of them and made whatever metallic object I could find oscillate, creating sound waves of different frequencies.


    As they clashed and rebounded, I could make much more sense of objects, their shapes, density and composition. Needless to say, however, even ultrasounds could only do so much.


    Materials like concrete and metal often distributed it, making it almost useless.


    The nerve in my temple stretched, making me wince and disrupt my concentration. At the same time my senses shrank back into my body as my hold over the spell broke free.


    As my senses retracted, I felt like an ant amidst the towering skyscrapers and other buildings, the previous feeling of omniscience as I could register everything and felt above everything slowly ebbing away, robbing me of the high I had obtained while using the Arcane Art.


    "Anything?"


    "It''s not working. It''s camouflaged." I shook my head. Annoyance was something rare to experience. Perhaps it was because of the lack of competition.


    However, I could feel mild irritation slowly creep into me. Like a snake, coiling around the leg. Scratching the back of my head, I ruffled my hair.


    "Keep finding, I will break into a building or two." Michael spoke and then jumped into a building in front of us. Kicking into the glass window, he went inside the building, followed by frightened screams of some people.


    Seems like there were still people hiding in their homes. Or perhaps packing to leave?


    It doesn''t matter.


    Turning around, I sprinted. Astrid would still be quite some distance away from the entrance to the Frontier. I have to get rid of this thing that has escaped as soon as I can before moving onwards. Logically speaking, I should be inside the Frontier. But from what I can tell, the thing communicates using some special frequency of a wave.


    The shimmer overhead seems like a timer. As soon as it fully breaks, the Frontier would no longer stay a Frontier but would become a permanent part of our world.


    If it''s in the city while its kin is inside, it can coordinate with them and bring harm to Astrid who would be sealing their free ticket into our world.


    I can''t let that happen. Not yet.


    Spiralling down a vortex of self-doubt, I lost track of where I was going for a moment. And then something clicked.


    I was thinking too hard. Or rather I was too fixated on getting the intricate details. Up until this point it was trying to communicate with its kin which was still inside the Frontier.


    That attempt at communication was hampering my ability to pinpoint it in a localised area.


    What I didn''t consider was that by a method of elimination, I could narrow down the location to a few blocks by selecting only those areas which clashed with my spell.


    Coming to a screeching halt as my feet dug into the road, I closed my eyes once again. However, this time, instead of disabling my Arcanum outside, I let it roam free.


    Like a tsunami flooding the streets, some of it poured out of me and some of it took a hold of my senses and expanded it once again.


    The almighty feeling returned once again as I felt one with the source of my power.


    Ever expanding. The shrill screech of the shimmer made me almost break my concentration and return back. Almost as if it was moaning, crying¡­ in protest.


    Strange.


    As I was contemplating it, my concentration was drawn towards something more¡­ important, for the current moment at least. Like a small oculus, a few floors of a tower were completely shutting out each and every frequency of the wave that my body was emitting. A tall building with a huge¡­ antenna on its top.


    That''s it!


    My senses returned immediately as I took my phone out. Typing in Michael''s number from pure memory and wishing it was correct, I called him.


    One ring¡­ second¡­


    Come on, come on.


    ¡¸WHAT?¡¹


    He screamed into the phone.


    ¡¸I found it.¡¹

 12: Thunderclap - â…¡

    ¡¸WHAT?¡¹


    He screamed into the phone.


    ¡¸I found it.¡¹


    ¡¸Where?¡¹


    His tone changed immediately. Something broke in his background, followed by violent clatters.


    ¡¸The building with the antenna on top.¡¹


    ¡¸On my way.¡¹


    Without saying any additional thing, he hung up.


    Good thing the city is in a turmoil and it''s going to go unnoticed. I can only imagine the expenses required to cover up the mess Michael is making. Glancing over in the tower''s direction, I extended my hand towards it.


    No need for a fancy spell this time. I just need to¡­


    As I manifested my intent for the action, the Arcanum flickered to life once again and I was hurtling forward the split second later. Like a stone fired from a catapult, my elevation increased and it almost felt like I was flying.


    It was another application in the ¡¸Phase 1¡¹of my Arcane Arts. ¡¸Ferrum Field¡¹


    Using the loosely and haphazardly scattered magnetic domains inside a metal, I am able to align them in a specific direction using an external magnetic field and can then amplify it, to either pull it towards myself or pull myself towards it. The latter one, in my current situation. As soon as I got close to the building, the skyscraper beside me rumbled before the glass window of the upper floors broke down.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Michael with a grin over his face as he hurtled like a comet towards the designated building. "This one''s mine!" He jeered, his teeth flashing despite the dark of the night, which continued to get darker by the minute.


    The reflecting waves refracted suddenly, dropping down its defences, as the creature disabled its attempts at communicating using the special frequency and became acutely aware of our presence, closing in on it at an alarming speed.


    Michael was the first one to make an impact with the building''s glass window. While maintaining the minimal hold over the magnetic domains that were close to getting magnetised permanently, I covered my eyes with my hand to avoid the flying shrapnel making their way into them.


    My feet made contact with the blood stained marble with a sickening quelch. The metallic stench of blood was pungent, lingering in the air like a fog. The light overhead flickered a few times, revealing the broadcast room.


    "Fucking hell¡­" Michael exclaimed, his voice trailing off towards the end as he took in his surroundings.


    Corpses. Or rather, half corpses. They were badly mutilated.


    Not in a clean way, no.


    The method was much more primal. Not out of anger. But out of nature. Some people had their heads bitten off, while the others had their middle section ripped open, intestines sprawling like worms all over the stained and broken marbling of the broadcast room.


    A waste of expensive material.


    The stench was disgusting. Although not enough to make one throw their guts out. And by guts out I mean metaphorically. Not like these dead people, who literally have their guts thrown out.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Nevermind.


    *scrrckkkkkk*


    The grating sound of something sharp against a broken piece of marble reverberated in the entire room. I looked back, over my shoulder, in Michael''s direction. Behind him, sticking to the uppermost corner of the wall was a wide silhouette of something. Although I could see its head and feel its gaze, there was something really wrong with it.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    In a split second, it was right behind Michael, the long and thick arm making its way down like a hammer striking an anvil. Spinning on his heel, Michael turned around and raised his arm upwards, absorbing the impact.


    The force of the strike made his feet dig deep into the floor, until it eventually gave out. The wall and the roof shuddered as a spider web of cracks ran all along the floor before crumbling. A nasty snarl made me look back as it had jumped to the wall behind me and was attempting to lunge at me.


    The creak of its joints as it lunged was audible.


    Somersaulting to my left, I avoided the bull charge and the crumbling floor. Catching a hold of it with my right hand, my left hand pulsed with a crackling bolt of lightning before ramming it into its body. The lightning sparks frizzante, followed by a sizzling pop as the skin scorched and a foul stench filled the air.


    A loud thud indicated Michael had landed on the lower floor. The creature snarled and whipped its head towards me, flicking its saliva towards me. The caustic nature of its saliva made my own skin burn, like a piece of coal had been placed on it. Letting out a loud groan, I hammered repeatedly at its skin while still being airborne.


    ¡¸Phase 1 ¡ª Forge¡¹


    The heavy metal ring that Albert had slipped into my pocket turned malleable before sliding out of pocket and slithered towards my hand. Using my knee, I turned the creature down and made it crash into the ground with me on top of it.


    The impact, once again, cracked the floor and we were hurtling down again.


    Focusing on the ring, I moulded it, taking a desirable shape. As I was doing so, Michael arrived and kicked the side of the creature. The shockwave from the impact broke every glass in the vicinity¡ªcomputer screens, windows and even tables¡ªexpelling the creature and me both outside the building.


    As the shards of glass rained down on me and we were expunged out, the light of the full moon finally revealed the creature. I felt my eyes widen for a fraction of an inch and panic surged from my guts.


    Kicking it away from me, I created some distance as its meaty claws flailed in the air. Flipping backwards, I repositioned myself midair and Arcanum flowed through the nodes in my legs with a fast speed, allowing me to cushion the impact.


    With a swish, Michael landed beside me, a thick layer of Arcanum augmenting his fists and legs while a thin, translucent sheen stuck as armour all around his body.


    "It''s surely dead, isn''t it?" He asked without looking at me. "It fell from 40 stories, for crying out loud!"


    I tilted my head. "If it was anything else, then it would''ve." I replied, taking an offensive stance as the ring that had turned ductile a while ago moulded itself in midair, like kneading a dough before taking on a coherent shape.


    The shape of a knife. A double-edged blade with a symmetrical dagger-like profile, tapering to a sharp point. The blade was around 6 to 7 inches in length and was perfect for both stabbing and slashing. Or even better, really efficient at puncturing existing wounds. Perfect for the current scenario.


    The handle of the knife was slender and cylindrical, with a symmetrical shape that fit in my hand like a glove. "Suit yourself."


    As the dust settled, Michael was finally able to see it properly and I caught a glimpse of its form correctly as well.


    Standing underneath a limping lamppost was an eight to nine feet tall, dark green quadrupedal creature with eerily long limbs and snout.


    From the first impression it looked like a carnivorous reptile, almost similar in appearance to chasmosaurine dinosaurs.


    The lack of eyes in its eye sockets greatly emphasised the two unblinking eyes, each one located at its shoulder. Its head had three lines or¡­ runes that resembled straight lines¡ªlike Roman numerals¡ªetched deeply into it, like a tattoo.


    The side of its head had retractable membranous frills that extended outwards. As it did, it started vibrating. A force like the dull side of a knife scraping against the bone of my skull invaded me, making me wince back.


    Clenching my teeth, I threw the knife at it. The knife lodged itself into the right frill as it let out a loud roar. Michael exploded from my side towards it. Taking a steady breath as the interference from the monster vanished, I lunged at it as well.


    Flicking my hand backwards, the knife lodged itself out of its frill as Michael punched at it. Using its long front arm, it attacked and clawed at him, however, Michael simply side-stepped, letting the claw land on the road and break it. The force of the blow made the road cave in and the creature to stumble into the sudden dent it had placed.


    With a huge grin on his face, Michael kicked the thick area of its long, slender front leg, which was its knee. Its bone creaked from the impact and a shockwave followed from it. It raised its snout upwards and roared in pain.


    "Oh shut up, you fucking lizard dog."


    Enjoying it so far, Michael punched it again, making it stumble backwards. Quickly stepping into the frantic and berserk clawing movements, he grabbed a hold of its back leg and elbowed it, breaking the bone and twisting the leg at a grotesque angle.


    Its left frill opened once again.


    It is going to try to convey a message once again.


    Holding my palm towards it, I send a radio wave towards it. As it interacted with its own transmission, I matched the wavelength and balled my hand into a fist. The waves of same and different natures at the same frequencies collided and interfered with each other at the source, making its left frill explode.


    Right before it could let out another screech, I boxed in, lowering my stance and stabbed its throat with my knife. Right where its vocal cords are supposed to be, I twisted my dagger and then slashed to the side like a C-section, opening up its throat. Withdrawing the dagger, I stood up and then stabbed the upper side of its neck, once again twisting it and then incising along the line of the tissue fibre, severing the thick muscles of the neck.


    The half-severed neck dangled loosely before its body fell down with a loud thud, kicking up a small wave of sand.


    "Good riddance." Michael spat, disgust visible on his face. "What on fucking earth was this anyways?"


    Rubbing the blade against the handkerchief I had used to wipe my own blood earlier, I returned the knife to its original shape¡ªa silver ring¡ªand wore it on my ring finger of the right hand. Looking up at the sky¡­ the moon, I heaved in a deep breath. "Can''t exactly say but¡­" As I was racking my brain over it, he interrupted.


    "Aren''t you supposed to be the smart one?" The scorn in his voice was awfully palpable.


    "No, I am not supposed to be anything." I replied. "Although from what I can tell it''s something from Chinese folklore. If I remember correctly, they represent the grave sin of Gluttony." I pointed out at its mouth that it was agape.


    "Oh I can tell it''s gluttony. The fucker ate like 50 people upstairs."


    I tilted my head once. "It didn''t eat it." I spoke, crouching down. Using my left hand, I opened its mouth, revealing parts of people upstairs stored in the side of its mouth. "It''s trying to take it for someone else." I felt my brows furrow. "But who?"


    "Fuck knows." Michael spoke as he walked over and placed his foot on the creature''s face. "But Chinese, eh? They''re always up to some nasty shit."


    I cocked my head. "It''s not like they made it. It''s a part of their culture. Folklore. Fables. Whatever you want to call it. Remnants of stories from Eden."


    "Ye, ye, whatever, ''Mr. I am a nerd''. This thing got a name or something? Or we calling it a dino-doggy?"


    "W¨²j¨¬n T¨¡nsh¨ª, is what they are called." I replied, remembering what I had read about them. "Translates literally to boundless hunger." I recalled. It made sense now. From the start, I had issues conducting my Arcane Arts. Why did I not think of it before?


    "Wu¡ªehhh? Wugin?"


    "W¨²j¨¬n T¨¡nsh¨ª." I corrected.


    "For someone speaking fluent Chinese, you sure acted hella surprised when I talked in Korean."


    Shrugging my shoulders, I replied. "Compulsory courses. Had to pick something practical. It is the most spoken language in the world, afterall. And it''s called Mandarin not Chinese."


    "Ye, ye, whatever. But the most spoken language is English for sure." He argued back with a snort. "An uneducated bas¨C" Before he could finish his sentence, a strong radio wave washed over the entire city.

 13: Thunderclap - â…¢

    Ye, ye, whatever. But the most spoken language is English for sure." He argued back with a snort. "An uneducated bas¨C" Before he could finish his sentence, a strong radio wave washed over the entire city. Not direct, but like an echo. At the same time, the Wujin''s body twitched and it pounced upwards, throwing Michael off balance.


    With its neck half cut and head dangling, it attacked him with its long claws. Still on the ground, Michael grabbed his front leg¡ªthe one which he did not break before¡ªand blocked its strike. The next moment he pulled it towards itself and kicked its middle section, throwing it over.


    Flailing its dangling snout and the two unbroken limbs, it tried to attack me. Holding the dagger in a reverse grip, I augmented the blade with Arcanum before swinging it at the joint. The blade entered the flesh and made its way towards the bone followed by a clang against the blade like it had hit metal instead of bone.


    Kicking down at its leg and pinning it in place, I swung at it once again, from the opposite side and severed it this time. Following it with another stab to its head, right between its two hollow sockets, I twisted it.


    However, it still wasn''t dead. Using the front leg that Michael had broken earlier, it swung it like a whip. Michael arrived at my side and grabbed it with his bare hand and then placed his foot over Wujin''s head.


    "I''ve had enough of this zombie doggy." He spoke and ripped it apart. The shoulder joint connecting the humerus and scapula popped open, followed by the hardened bones being forcefully ripped out of its flesh due to him holding it in place. It let out a deafening shriek, however, I placed my own foot over its head, shutting its mouth.


    With one final tug, he completely ripped its front leg apart and then tossed it to the side. A pool of green blood filled the crater underneath the Wujin and an acrid stench rose up from it. The bone that was ripped apart and was still attached to the monster''s body looked like it was made of something else, rather than the usual collagen bones humans and animals on Earth have.


    As Michael was looking down at it, I raised a brow. "Zombie doggy?"


    Shaking his head with a smirk, he responded. "The damned thing won''t die."


    As if agreeing with him, the almost limbless creature withered once again. It truly lived up to its name. Boundless hunger. But why wasn''t it dying¡­?


    "Maybe we need to crush its head?" He suggested.


    "Perhaps." I replied.


    As if he realised something, he clutched his head. "What''s wrong with me? Working together with you? EWWWW!"


    Ohhhh. He just realised it?


    As the Wujin kept its feeble attempts at attacking and Michael went down a spiral of self-lamentation while muttering things like ''I can''t fucking believe myself'', I tried to observe the creature.


    It was badly mutilated. And by running a basic ultrasound at its body that was not being protected by the frequency anymore, I could tell that crushing its head won''t kill it as well. That was because¡­ it had no brain. The skull was empty. This could mean a few things, but factoring in the information we have on them, it''s possible that the Wujins share a hivemind.


    But it is a hypothesis at the end of the day. However, there was a way to test it.


    Placing my hand over its head, I channelled a pure magnetic wave. And much to my own surprise, it stopped moving. However, as soon as I removed my hand from it and removed the waves, it started to struggle again.


    My eyes glowed hot as I focused on its body once again. The anatomy was strange. It had all the faculties to maul and hunt and eat prey multiple times the size of its own body. It had a heart, but no brain. It had a mouth, an oesophagus to carry out peristalsis and a stomach to store food, but no digestive organs. No intestines, no presence of digestive fluids breaking down the multiple heads and parts of humans it had consumed.


    They were just present there. Like a suitcase. As if its only purpose was to store food.


    There isn''t much known about Wujins so I don''t know why this is the case.


    It''s frustrating. Lack of intel has always made me uncomfortable.


    As I was looking through it, my eyes met with its own, looking at me with an intent to kill, despite the condition it was in. However, that is when I saw it. The huge congregation of nerves from every part of its body, three inches behind the actual eye that rested over its shoulder. The congregation of nerves that connected into core.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Just like humans have a primary node, monsters have cores. Different monsters have cores in different parts of their body. A core develops in a weak spot. A part where Arcanum has not slipped into and has failed to augment that part. This imbalance in natural Arcanum absorption created a weak spot and is what is referred to as cores. In the books written by Adam, at least. Or what''s left of it.


    The ring on my finger slithered towards my index finger and formed a long, three inches talon. Since the ring had quite a lot of volume, I could make a weapon up to 9 inches. Just like the dagger I was using before. Poking it slowly in its eyes, I pushed it.


    The green liquid squirted out and I turned my neck to the side, avoiding it.


    "Whatcha doing?"


    "Stab the eye."


    "Why should I?"


    He kept looking down at me before snorting. A layer of sharp, blade-like arcanum solidified on his shoe''s tip as he kicked. The blood splattered all over his jeans. As soon as he kicked, the movement''s in Wujin''s body died out and it let out one last growl before dying.


    "Fucking hell, it works."


    Standing up, I wiped the few stains of foul smelling blood over me. "Let''s leave. The entrance won''t hold for much longer." I announced, making him frown. "The merger between Korea and this frontier is about to happen anytime soon."


    ¡ª-------------------------


    3rd person POV


    The clipping sound of Astrid''s heel echoed amidst the empty streets as she ran towards her destination. The clamour of soldiers and heavy artillery shifting drowned out the echo as the soldiers'' heavy boots stomped and shuffled, creating a cacophony of multiple noises.


    Three metres away from the sealed dome of the Frontier were seven ranks of soldiers, the front line crouching while the ones in the back standing, their guns pointed at the entrance. The slimy shimmer was extending outwards from the Frontier, covering the entire dome just like how it did with the city.


    Behind the soldiers were tanks, their canons already directed at the supposed entrance.


    "Move in line! Go, go, go!" One of them barked, making another group of soldiers stand at the flank of the entrance. Just in case that the enemy rushes in right when it opens, so that they have them surrounded from all sides.


    "Load the tanks with HEAT and APFSDS. Hurry up!"


    Projectiles that could pierce any tank in the world and multiple inches of augmented, hardened steel were being loaded. Since the scale of destruction from just a creature or two was on such a wide scale, every government was extremely anxious and had done their best to prevent them. Or in a much more realistic approach, mitigate them as much as possible.


    The shimmer seemed to get lighter in the sky and grow heavy on the surface of the Frontier, as if keeping it from breaking. Like a wet cloth, it stuck to it, letting out low-pitched grating shrieks. Like metal scraping against metal.


    The soldiers shifted, their fingers resting on the trigger, shaking ever so slightly.


    The shimmer seemed to moan and a nasty snarl filled the air.


    No. Not a snarl. It was definitely more than one. The snarl came from every direction. From the other side, behind them, above them.


    "FOCUS ON THE ENTRANCE!!!!!!!" The commander prompted, collecting the attention of all of his soldiers. "DO NOT WAVER!" He continued to speak, and picked up a rifle himself. "GET READYYYY!" He exclaimed as a crack ran all along the Frontier''s dome. The slimy cloth got heavy, like a sentient being. Like a human trying to keep a cracked vase from totally breaking down.


    The tension was almost palpable. One could cut it with a knife. The only ones who were a bit less frightened were the tank drivers, having some confidence in the durability of their ride. As everyone''s senses went into high alert, ready to open fire at any moment, Astrid appeared and stopped right before she crossed the small distance between the beeline formed by tanks and the multiple assembly foot soldiers with rifles aimed at it.


    In a split second, every rifle turned towards her as they panicked, ready to open fire.


    "DO NOT OPEN FIRE!" The commander barked, prompting the soldiers to remove their fingers from the trigger, but it did not let them lower their guard as they still had the muzzles pointed towards her.


    As he jumped down, he walked towards Astrid, his rifle pointed at her. "Identify yourself." He spoke in Korean.


    Astrid shifted uncomfortably, her arms raised up in a placating manner. "I can''t speak in Korean. Can you understand what I am saying?" She spoke, taking something out of the pocket in her skirt. Another soldier placed the tip of the gun at her back as they observed her movements closely. Letting out a rasp breath, she shakily showed her identification.


    It was her student ID.


    Taking it away from her and directing with a shake of his head to his soldiers, more than half of them redirected their attention towards the entrance. Astrid''s body was shaking, the tens of guns ready to blow her body to bits making her become increasingly paranoid with every passing second.


    The commander looked down at her ID card.


    Frowning, he tapped at the lower part of the card.


    "Norway? What¡­ you do here?" He asked, using the movement of his hands more than actual words.


    "I¡ª" She desperately looked over the man''s shoulder, "¡ªI don''t have time to explain, please, you have to let me go towards the entrance of the Frontier." She pleaded, desperation evident in her voice.


    With her hands still in the air in a conciliating manner, the man behind her pressed the rifle''s muzzle in a way that Astrid felt its hard texture against her back with a chilling clarity, despite the woollen dress she was wearing.


    "All of you will die. Let me through, please."


    The commander exchanged gazes with the one surrounding Astrid and spoke something in Korean. A moment of silence followed it. And then another.


    She could feel her heart''s beat in her ears. Do they finally understand? She thought to herself.


    As if answering her mental thought, they burst into a barely restrained laughter. With wide smirks and condescending gawps, they stopped aiming at her and chuckled until they could no more. With a somewhat embarrassed expression, Astrid stood petrified for a few seconds, her hands balling into fists.


    The commander talked, however, in Korean. But from his tone, she could tell it was not anything good. She tried to move but everyone redirected their guns at her. As they were talking in their native language, a soldier stepped up. Talking to his commander once, he stepped towards Astrid, his rifle strapped to his back instead of holding it in his hands, at her.


    "Are you lost, little girl?"

 14: Thunderclap - â…£

    "Are you lost?" He asked. He was around the same height as Astrid. Wearing a helmet, a bulletproof vest and three black stripes over his face, he looked no different than all the other ones. Except for the fact that he was speaking English fluently. "The commander says a posh girl like you is supposed to be outside the city. I can have someone escort you outside the danger zone."


    "No-" She spoke and took a step forward. The others suddenly shuddered, but the commander shook his head, allowing her to get close to the man. "-you don''t understand. You have to let me touch the Frontier entrance. All hell will break loose if you are not prepared until they arrive."


    He scoffed and then licked his lips. "Listen to me while I am still being nice." He spoke and took a confident step forward. "You don''t want these guys to capture you as a criminal and put you in barracks. You''d rather wish to die than stay alive. It''s clear you are lost, separated from your parents¡­" as he talked, a jolt of pain went down Astrid''s chest at the mention of her parents. "...and you do sound kind of delusional as well. If you had such capability, we''d know." He continued and then placed his hand on her shoulder.


    And then his vision changed. Everything turned upside down. Grabbing him by his wrist, she had turned and twisted it, throwing him over her shoulder. The smirks on everyone''s faces were still there and the situation had barely registered to them.


    Except the commander.


    *bam!*


    Pressing the trigger, he shot at Astrid. Tilting her head to the side, the bullet whistled past her ear, severing a few strands of her hair before eventually following back and hitting the commander''s own subordinate in the neck. The man fell down and flailed his arms and legs, like a fish out of water. His hands clutched at his neck for a few seconds as everyone watched with a petrified interlude.


    As the gushing pool of blood slowly reached their feet and the man stopped moving with his eyes wide open and staring at his comrades as if he had seen a ghost, only then was when the whole situation registered to them.


    Astrid''s inner euphoria transitioned from ''I am so freaking cool!'' to a chilling wave of pure, frigid horror as the man drowned in a pool of his own life blood. Placing a hand over her mouth, she gagged before throwing her guts out, the acidic bile burning her throat and blurring her vision as the sight of a dead body was too much for her.


    The commander rushed forward and while she was still on all fours, spilling out, he kicked her in the gut. She rolled to her side, clutching her abdomen.


    The heavy rumble of a snarl filled the air. Barking orders to his men, he made them focus at the entrance while he himself placed his knee at Astrid''s back before cuffing her hands behind her back. Arcanum spilled like a tidal wave from her primary node and the shackles on her arms exploded as she broke free. Twisting her body she immediately stood up, the sudden action throwing the commander¡ªwho had mounted her¡ªa few yards away.


    A split second later, the familiar snarl was followed by a green-ish blur that whisked the commander away.


    Before his half-formed gasp could fully escape his lips, Astrid''s eyes widened with an unbridled fear as she watched the quadrupedal creature¡ªits jaw laced with shark-like teeth closing like a hydraulic press¡ªtear through the commander''s body with an unrestrained savageness, rending him in half with a sickening crunch of bones and odious squelch of flesh ripping and punctured organs spilling down.


    Before it even fully landed, the lower half of the commander''s body was already swallowed.


    As soon as it landed, its long snout probed for the commander''s middle section. As she took in a deep, trembling breath and fought back the urge to look away, a shout cut through the air.


    "OPEN FIRE!" The man who was talking to Astrid screamed atop his lungs. The soldiers¡ªmonetarily rattled¡ªignored Astrid altogether and opened fire at it.


    The soldiers'' faces were etched with grim determination and morbid fear at the same time as they heeded the call without hesitation.


    The rifles recoiled back in tandem, the muzzle flashing lighting up the entire area. In that light, Astrid saw it. The hollow sockets, misplaced eyes and the three tattoo like scars on their forehead.


    The air became acrid with the stench of gunpowder as the soldiers unleashed a barrage of firepower on the quadrupedal monster. The tanks began to move around, aiming at the monster that was still tearing the commander to bits and pieces while taking the full brunt of the rifles from the foot soldiers and machine guns from the stationed personnel at a higher vantage point.


    Astrid instinctively covered her ears. She crouched down, hugging her knees to her chest and pressing her palms against the ears, trying her best to shield herself from the ear numbing cacophony of shots. Each gunshot felt like a hammer blow to her senses, reverberating through her skull with bone-jarring intensity.


    Arcanum surrounded her body in a thick veil of multiple protective layers.


    However, the Arcanum layering did little to dampen the rapid, staccato rhythm of the deafening shots fired by multiple arms. She was still in training. She could barely augment her body enough in places where there were nodes. Augmenting an area that had no node was practically impossible for her.


    The metallic clang of spent shell casings hitting the ground only added to the discordant battle.


    The bullets flew through the air with a sharp whizzing sound, hitting the monster''s tough skin with a heavy thud.


    "RELOAD!!! SNIPERSSSS!!!!! COVERRRR!" The same man shouted once again as the foot soldiers and stationed machine gun users started to quickly reload their guns while reverberating shots started to assault the creature. The metallic clinks of ammunition being loaded into guns rumbled through the air.


    While they were reloading, Astrid stood up, her eyes glowing in an azure shade. "Oh hell no¡­" She mumbled as she turned her head towards the man who had talked to her before. Without a second thought, she jumped at him and pushed him away as the wide maw of the creature jumped in from the rising smoke, seemingly completely unharmed.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The gaping maw of the monster closed in on her shoulder and dug into the dense layer of Arcanum, stopping just an inch before gnashing into her flesh.


    "Urgh¡ªeek¡­" Astrid tried to push it away however the Wujin pinned her feet down with its long limbs. "GAHH!" She let out a pained gasp, the immense weight of the creature taking its toll on her body. The long snout and the dentition clobbered heavily against the shield of Arcanum, being the only thing that kept the monstrosity from ripping her face apart.


    Astrid glanced over in the man''s direction who had halted the fire. He had a conflicted expression over his face. Despite the small scuffle, she was still a human. As his emotions became more and more visible over his features, Astrid gulped audibly. However, it fell on dull ears due to the adrenaline coursing through her body.


    She looked in his direction, giving him a knowing nod once. The shield of Arcanum started to flicker away, as a tear ran through her eye. I''m sorry, Arthur¡­


    The man ordered and the tank with HEAT shells pointed at Astrid. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the inevitable fate. The propellant lit up, generating a high-pressure gas that propelled the HEAT shell out of the barrel at high velocity, making the whole tank recoil that left a dent into the road


    As the aerodynamic bullet spun through the air and made its way towards Astrid and the Wujin atop her, who was still mindlessly trying to rip her apart, she saw it in slow motion. The slowly approaching death. She gulped and let out a loud moan. "Eeerrggghhh!" She willed the last bits of her remaining strength into her limbs and tried to hold the Wujin by its lower body and stood up, redirecting it directly towards the incoming HEAT shell.


    The entire world seemed to fall into slow motion. Her tears were suspended in the air as her life flashed before her eyes. I failed him¡­


    A thin spark of lightning flashed in her azure eyes and a small dagger dug into the Wujin''s eye. It''s hold over Astrid''s body loosened up. With the sudden change in force, she lost control of her body and fell back.


    A person flashed right in front of her. His long white hair was loose and it blew like a flag. Scooping her up at a blinding speed, he immediately got her away from the blast radius. At the same time, the nose of the HEAT shell made contact with the Wujin''s body.


    Simultaneously, the shell''s fuze was activated, triggering the explosive charge, detonating and creating a focused jet of superheated metal. A plasma jet was created as a result and before the Wujin could even screech in pain, it melted its body.


    Its huge form twitched as the scalding plasma jet found its mark, engulfing the creature in a seething inferno prison of molten metal.


    The air was suddenly filled with the acrid stench of burning flesh and charred bone as the creature''s skin began to blister and bubble. The heat intensified, searing through layers of flesh and sinew. Its body that had endured an onslaught of one of the best rifles and machine guns without a scratch withered and blackened, tendrils of smoke curling upwards.


    As the flames consumed its outer shell, the creature''s bones began to warp and twist, their metal-natured composition failing against the heat that burnt the soldiers'' breath.


    The skeletal frame began to buckle and deform, crimson rivulets of molten metal cascading down its twisted form as they began to liquefy, getting reduced to a glistening pool of crimson-red liquid.


    After a few seconds, all that remained was a charred, smouldering crater.


    However, this victory was not without collateral. Dozens of soldiers were lying in the mess as well, not faring any better than the monstrosity. Reduced down to mere ashes.


    Michael looked down at Astrid who was tightly clutching his sweater, her face hidden and her entire body trembling. A huge cloak of pure Arcanum covered them. Despite the explosives used in this particular HEAT shell not being potent enough, it had still managed to destroy and obliterate everything in its path. Amidst the 40 metres blast radius of molten asphalt and many other things, Arthur''s form was the only unharmed thing.


    He was staring down at the Wujin, his eyes glowing.


    "Alright, scaredy cat, it''s done now." Michael groaned, flicking the backside of Astrid''s head. As she looked up and saw Michael looking down at her, his hair dishevelled all over his face, she immediately pardoned herself. With a blush over her face, she looked down.


    "Sorry."


    "Hah?!" He was about to talk in his usual tone, however, looking at how Astrid was still trembling from the whole turn of events, he shut his mouth. "It''s alright." He spoke.


    He''s not as bad as I thought he would be¡­


    "But please, fuck off now."


    Or maybe not¡­ but he still saved my life.


    "Thanks for saving m¡ª" Her sentence was cut midway as Michael shook his hand, as if shooing her away.


    Normally she would''ve taken offence to this kind of behaviour. However, she wasn''t in a sane headspace at that moment. All her mind kept thinking of was the gnarly form of the monster hungrily trying to devour her and the incoming tank shell which would''ve obliterated. Blown her to pieces.


    She took a step back and collided into something. Turning around, she saw Arthur, looking straight into her eyes. "You seem a little roughed up." He spoke before tucking the stray locks of her hair behind her ear. Looking at the torn piece of fabric over her shoulder and then at the shoe mark on her middle section, he sighed. "But now won''t be the good time to go shopping for a replacemen¡ª"


    As he was talking, she let her body weight lean forward, letting her head rest on Arthur''s chest. Coming to a still and standing firmly, he supported her weight. For a few moments they stayed silent. However, just as Astrid sniffled, Arthur patted her head. "It''s alright now." He reassured, correcting the frayed ends of her hair. Her crying only intensified as she wrapped her hands around him.


    "I was so scared." She hiccupped, speaking between tears. "I thought I was going to die."


    "Well¡­ you were."


    "I thought¡­" She sniffled once again, "...about how disappointed you would be. In me. After everything you did for me, I ended up not being able to return anything."


    Arthur stood silent for a while, patting her head consolingly. Michael looked away and walked towards the clamouring soldiers who were marching near the blast radius.


    "It was a miscalculation on my part." Arthur replied after a moment of silence. "I shouldn''t have let you go. Not when I knew you had not manifested any offensive property of your Arcane Art." He continued and then removed her head from his chest, cupping her face into his palms. "You don''t have to feel that way. I am not disappointed. I can''t be. It''s not your fault."


    Despite holding her face in a way that she would meet his eyes directly, she kept her eyes low, not looking him in the eye. "Mhmm¡­" she hummed. Letting her go, he took off his overshirt and wrapped it around her shoulders.


    "Stand there. I will be right back." Lightly ruffling her hair, he walked away.


    She hobbled slightly to the side, the rushed events that happened¡ªfrom her almost getting imprisoned, first time seeing someone die right in front of her eyes, in such a grotesque way at that, the fear of the Wujin almost biting her face. The fear of death and not even having a body intact for a proper send off later on. But most of all, the fear of disappointing the one person she had vowed to give everything that belonged with her to him¡ªmaking her dizzy.


    She walked behind Arthur for a few steps and then turned around, slumping over a huge piece of stone. Letting out a long breath, she placed her face into her palms and hiccupped once again, breathing a sigh of relief.


    Michael was talking to the soldiers. Or rather arguing.


    As Arthur approached them, he stood by Michael''s side and glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Something wrong?"


    With a scowl, he replied, without turning his head towards Arthur. "The bastards are saying that if we are really here for help, what''s the fucking code name." He spoke with a disbelieving voice. "What fucking code? And why do ''I'' of all people have to prove it? I can just smack their faces in¡ª"


    As he was talking, Arthur turned towards them. "Os Poucos."


    Hearing that the soldiers started talking to each other before nodding. They relaxed and flung the strap attached to their rifles around their shoulders.


    As if struck by lightning, Michael cringed. "What a shit name that is. Os Poucos? For fuck''s sake. And¡ª"


    "Maria was the one who came up with it. Not me. She referred to herself but apparently all of us are Os Poucos now."


    Grumbling, he looked away. "It isn''t that bad then, I guess."


    With something that could only be discerned as a scoff, Arthur mumbled under his breath. "Sure it isn''t now."

 15: Thunderclap - â…¤

    (TWENTY MINUTES LATER)


    Once the soldiers had contacted the authorities and they were given the green signal to cooperate with Os Paucos¡ªArthur and Michael¡ªdespite the reluctance, they started to do as they were instructed.


    Most of the forces were now stationed at the outer perimeter of the place, along with the shimmer''s boundary.


    The other national forces were mobilised to move towards Seoul. However, they were still some distance away. Aerial support had already arrived, the circling jets flying just beneath the shimmer that loomed right above the troposphere.


    Astrid was now in a much better state. The shock from seeing a man not only die but being ripped apart while he was alive and consumed by monsters she had only heard about in movies had its effect imprinted deeply on her, however, the thought of similar creatures coming to Earth in huge hordes was what made her and the others to forget the absolute nightmare and focus on the bigger threat.


    Korea had reported the incident to the United Nations in that little time as well, however, they decided against the containment of Arthur and Michael. It was because the other heirs, or according to the UN, The Os Paucos were appearing in front of other Frontiers as well.


    Due to their coordinated appearance, they had decided to not get in their way. They were of national threats, believed to hold enough power to destroy cities in a small time, however, right now they were helping. Surrendering and accepting their loss, the UN decided to let them do their thing.


    In front of the Seoul frontier, Michael was preparing his bag, stuffing things quickly into it. Astrid was sitting on a chair right beside the opening. Her hand was pressed against the rock solid dome surrounding the frontier.


    "Well at least we know it''s this small area that will be added." Astrid spoke out loud for the first time since Arthur consoled her.


    Arthur shook his head. "It''s a space-time thing." He tried to explain in simpler terms. "The dome contains it. And the shimmer is resisting it from fully manifesting." He turned his head towards Astrid who looked up at him. His features were obscured by the looming shadow of his curtains that were dishevelled haphazardly. "Which one do you think is in jeopardy?"


    Astrid looked towards the sky and then at the dome. The entire sky looked like a cracked vase, ready to break into bits. "The shimmer¡­but look, even the dome is cracking as well. I guess we have hope¨C"


    He shook his head once again. "The shimmer breaking isn''t a good thing. It seems like it''s the automatic response from the Gods'' divinity acting against the holes into the separation. On the contrary, the dome breaking is even bad." He paused, taking in a deep breath and then exhaling, forming a smoky cloud. "It means the merger is nearing."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "..." She turned her head down.


    "I''d want you to leave the country as soon as possible but I need you to do something." Arthur spoke, placing his own hand at the dome, a few inches away from Astrid''s. "I need you to keep the dome from breaking. Even after the shimmer is gone. Can you do that?"


    She flicked her loose hair behind. "Of course." She replied with a smile. "Anything you ask."


    From the corner of his eye, he looked down, turned around and patted her head before pulling it into a hug while she was still sitting. Her head was against his midsection as he gently held it like that for a while. "Take care."


    A small slither of something coiled through Arthur''s fingers and then seeped into her skin.


    "Mmm. You too." Staying like that for a while, Arthur let go of her. Her hands stayed at his sleeves for a while but he pulled them away. Astrid stood up and picked up a bag from the side. "Here, your bag."


    "Oh, thanks."


    "Finally done, geez." Michael groaned as he walked towards the dome. A group of soldiers walked right behind them. "Let''s go."


    Arthur walked past and stood between the soldiers and Michael. "Which one is in command now?"


    "I am." A man walked up to him. It was the same man who was acting as a translator between Astrid and his commander. "After the death of Major Kim Min-seok, Colonel Lee Sang-hyun has decided to select me as the next in command."


    Arthur stood in front of him, his back straight. His jaw tightened. "What''s your name?"


    The man suddenly felt a shiver down his spine. "Captain Park Ji-hoon."


    Arthur dusted Park''s shoulder before crouching enough to reach his ear. "Your Major is lucky to be killed by that Wujin. If I hear about any kind of thing happening to Astrid¡­" he paused, letting his words sink in. "...you will find out I am much worse than those things."


    Keeping his voice under a whisper, Park replied. "Are you threatening me? Us?"


    Arthur''s eyes glowed. "Yes. I think you are still not aware of the direness of your situation." Park gulped a dry lump of saliva.


    "It''s a direct order to do as you say. As long as that doesn''t change, I can guarantee no one will place a finger on her."


    Straightening his back, Arthur cracked his neck. "I can work with that."


    Saying that, he picked up his bag and went towards where Michael and Astrid were.


    As they stood in front of the dome, Arthur looked at Astrid who had both her hands on the dome.


    "Just a little, alright?" Arthur reminded her.


    "I got it."


    As the skin of her fingers cracked against the dome, Arcanum slipped out in a sudden burst.


    ¡¸Spirit''s song. Twilight. Fate''s hand.¡¹---¡¸Phase 2: Unseal¡¹


    The crack on the dome widened. The huge crack caved inwards and the ethereal shards flew outwards. The huge shards were connected by a chord of light as they started to drift away from the dome. Followed by a huge rumble in the ground that made even the buildings shudder violently.


    Not wasting a single second, both Arthur and Michael jumped inside the small crack. At the same time, Astrid reversed her touch on the dome.


    ¡¸Titan''s chains, Sage''s curse. Fate''s hand.¡¹--- ¡¸Phase 2: Seal¡¹


    She chanted again with a practised ease, not breaking a sweat.


    The chords of white that connected the dome''s broken shards retracted and pulled it back into place, sealing the broken area once again. With a steady breath, Astrid leaned against it, her palms still touching the dome as she maintained it.


    ''Good luck¡­''


    She saw herself smile in the translucent dome before a surge of determination flooded her.


    On the inside, Michael had his eyes wide open.


    "Bloody hell¡­ " He mumbled as a gust of violent wind slapped his face and blew his white mane behind.


    A surge of pain invaded Arthur''s primary node as he swallowed a dry lump of saliva. "No, this is¡­ Eden. Our real world." He spoke to himself, excitement bubbling in his chest.

 16: Parallax - â… 

    ¡ª10 minutes before Arthur and Michael went inside the dome¡ª


    Eric Olvasen


    The sky was overcast with clouds. However, as one would expect from this weather, it was not exactly menacing.


    Instead it was quite calm.


    As a matter of fact it was so calm that despite the constant downpour, you could barely hear any noise like the usual belabour of raindrops drumming over each and every surface.


    Almost as if the Gods were trying to hear the deepest, darkest secrets of people in a moment of silence.


    A wry chuckle escaped my lips at the thought, pushing out the amorphous cloud of smoke.


    The inquisitive¡ªperhaps even playful wind¡ªwhisked it away and scattered the small cloud of smoke into wisps that lingered for a fleeting moment before disappearing from sight.


    "Mnnn-mnnnnnnnn¡­"


    A whining sound made me look to the side, right by my feet. A ball of white fur was sitting there, a melancholic look in its once lively eyes as it gazed at the pitter patter of the rain.


    I crouched down and then sat on the pavement that was being shielded by the awning right above the door which led to the backside of our house, on the opposite side of mother''s garden.


    Patting the dog¡ªLuna''s¡ªhead gently, I tapped towards my lap as it stood up and slid it face in. Gently massaging the upper side of its head, I looked back at the rain.


    "Don''t worry, he hasn''t forgotten about you." I reassured, not getting an answer back from it. Of course, I would be an idiot if I was expecting it to talk back.


    But perhaps, I have been an idiot all along. As if sensing the dissemblance in my smile and the placid yet chaotic mess on inside, Luna shifted in my lap before licking my left hand. "Haha." A chuckle escaped me as it turned around and licked my face.


    "Who''s a good girl, eh?"


    Ruffling the side of its face, I played around with her until she returned to her former cheerful self. "Go, fetch!" I spoke, throwing a wet twig in the rain.


    She ran after it excitedly. However, instead of bringing it back, she continued playing in the rain. As if its purpose of cheering me up had been finished and now it had no more reason to stay beside me.


    Thinking about it in this way made me smile. Even his pet was just like him.


    I looked down at my hand. The titanium ring around my left ring finger was still as lustrous as the first day I had worn it.


    Maybe my parents know. Maybe they don''t.


    Well, who am I kidding? Mom more than likely knows. But I don''t amount to enough to make her give it any heed. For all she could care, I could go fuck myself.


    It doesn''t make me angry. Nor does it make me spiteful. And it definitely doesn''t make me become indifferent towards my parents. I loved them. Still do. More than ever.


    Maybe that does make me a stupid person. For loving someone who doesn''t love me back. Just because I wasn''t able to manifest a technique.


    But that was my fate from the day I was born in the Olvasens. Born as the brother to someone who not just made his own parents pale in comparison in terms of raw talent but the majority of the other heirs. My cute little brother. Arthur.


    But eh, I still have a loving fiance. At least she loves me. Life isn''t that bad.


    As I was trying to convince myself of that, I looked down at my ring once again. The blotches of dried blood had turned a darker shade of burgundy by now. Letting out a sigh, I brought the cigarette close to my lips once again and inhaled.


    It''s a bad habit and will eventually kill me, I know. But as I said, I am an idiot. I prefer momentary respite over subtraction in my lifespan and lungs health.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Pushing the smoke away, I grounded the tip into the ground I was sitting on and then stood up immediately. Taking out my phone, I scrolled through it. A few social media notifications and a few texts from my fiance.


    An unknowing smile crept up my face. Opening them I replied to her. Letting her know I was well and good. And not dead.


    The door behind me swung open and my father appeared from the other side. Quickly slipping the phone back into my jacket, I placed my foot over the butt¡ªthe piece remaining of the cig¡ªand stepped to the side, letting him come out.


    He casted a sidelong glance at me before standing right by my side, letting his back rest against the wall. Taking a packet of cancer sticks out, he held one between his lips and then let his arms dangle to the side. I watched him stare at nothing in particular for a good 3 minutes.


    He was just standing there, as if waiting for it to light itself up.


    "I know you smoke, bucko. You reek of it. Now light it up for me." He shook his head and spoke while holding it in the corner of his lips.


    Letting out a nervous laugh, I took out the lighter and ignited it for him.


    "So you do smoke it." He mumbled, making my eyes go wide. "Well I guess you are old enough."


    "That was a guess?" I asked, totally baffled. Our father was a simple man. Things like these were beyond him.


    "Having an 8 year old outplay me forced me to learn a trick or two." He shook his head and then fished for any reaction from me from the corner of his eye.


    "Ah, yes. Arthur." I replied, his name rolling off my tongue with an odd sense of sweetness. I always loved my little brother. No matter how much he stayed wary of me.


    After a while of staring at me, he chuckled as well and then placed his hand on my shoulder. "You could''ve at least told me." Facing the back, he exhaled more smoke before turning back again to me and pointed at the ring on my finger.


    So he did notice.


    "Well, you never showed any interest."


    Perhaps it was my tone that it seemed like I was pushing all the blame on him.


    He licked his lip, and then stared down at his feet that made a straight line on the ground. His face looked sullen, like hanging with grief. And suddenly I could see him age visibly a few years.


    "I was waiting for you to surprise me. Us." He spoke, shaking his head to the side. However, he didn''t look up. Not just at me, but he just avoided looking up, keeping his gaze on the ground.


    I stayed silent for a while.


    I could hear the beating of my heart in my ears. And the dull drumming of the rain did little to mask it. I felt happy. Immensely so. Biting back a tear of joy, I placed my hand over his shoulder. "Communication hasn''t been our strongest forte. So no one is to blame here."


    He looked up at me. His eyes were red, but there was still a certain playfulness in it. Rolling them, he snorted. "Listen to yourself."


    I frowned, but soon understood what he meant by it. "Hah. I guess I am wrong there."


    Communication was our strongest forte. It was just that we avoided it.


    "So? Who''s the girl? Not going to let us see her or anything?" He asked, throwing the last bit of the cigarette on the ground and pressing his feet over it.


    "Someone I met during my physics class." I replied, replaying it in my mind. "And well¡­ about meeting you¡­"


    "Us. Your mother is alive and well." He corrected me.


    An involuntary scoff escaped my lips. "Is she?" I asked, squinting my eyes.


    He let out a sigh and then slid back against the wall. "She''s your mother. I know she''s complicated, but you have to understand. She''s still the woman who gave birth to you. All of you."


    "Yeah. I guess. But I am not letting her meet my fiance."


    "Alright, alright." He raised his hands in a placating manner. A smile formed on the corner of his lips as he left the support of the wall and inched closer. "Once Arthur is back from the expedition, let''s meet her together."


    I felt my eyes widen. Happily, I replied. "Sure thing. I am sure she will like Arthur."


    Patting my back a few times, he walked past me. "As much as I appreciate this little moment we had, let''s get back to work, eh? Your mother needs you in the basement."


    The happiness and joy I had felt in this fleeting moment were once again washed away by the grave seriousness of the current moment.


    "You better tighten your interrogation of the Elven girls before Sif starts losing patience."


    "What can a mudblood such as myself possibly do to a mighty elf?" I sarcastically remarked.


    He howled. It wasn''t that funny, but I guess humour really is subjective. "Oh don''t worry bucko. No technique doesn''t mean you have lost your arcanum. Just splash that into her face." Laughing and seemingly proud of what he had said, he walked through the door and made his way towards the main door.


    "Are you serious¡­" he cried out, looking at his phone.


    "What''s up?" I ran over to him.


    Looking up, he put his finger on his lips. "Do not even think about it. At least for now, ok?" He spoke before showing me the message on his phone. It was from Albert.


    ¡¸Young Master Arthur and Young Master Michael have entered the biggest Frontiter in Seoul after defeating 2 Wujins that had escaped from a small crack in the Frontier. Everyone is advised to immediately gather in Fjellborg. The Frontier is unstable and is about to integrate itself with the city. Scale of destruction and natural disasters is unknown. Travelling to Seoul is prohibited.¡¹


    "What are we going to do?"


    He scowled. "Stay normal. And just say I went away."


    "Got it."


    "She won''t probe you. So you don''t have to worry about it."


    "I know."


    After giving me an understanding nod, he suddenly gave me a small hug before peeling himself away. "Take care." He spoke and then pointed his finger at me. "You and your fiance owe me dinner as well."


    A wide grin formed on my face "She''s a good cook. We''ll be looking forward to it."


    "You better!" He shouted before running off towards his car.


    Well, off to the basement chambers we go¡­

 17: Parallax - â…¡

    Clinging to the air like a heavy fog, the musty odour lingered in the decently lit basement of our house.


    The scent of dampness mingled all too well for comfort with metallic tang of old, dried up blood, making every breath a laborious effort against revulsion.


    The yellow bulb attached to the chord overhead moved subtly, causing the long shadows to dance in a weird way all over the cracked walls. This house had housed many generations of Olvasens. Maybe from the time the first Olvasens set foot in Scandinavia.


    But unlike the other parts of the house, this place was never renovated. Just the smell in this place can make your senses go numb. More so for someone ordinary like me.


    Turning my body to the right side, I avoided the rusty chain hanging right in the middle of the pathway that led to my destination. I focused hard to keep the nauseous feeling in check. It was not my first time here. And perhaps would not be my last. But there are some things that you just cannot help yourself with.


    Getting gripped by qualms here is one of those feelings.


    I can quite understand why Arthur hates this place.


    Despite being the only place we can call home.


    As I finally arrived at my destination and was about to open the door, I paused. Someone was already inside.


    "It would be wise to not subject yourself to any further harm, darling~" A smooth voice slithered. It made a shiver run down my spine. And despite the cold, biting edge to her voice, the words themselves seemed to be lathered in honey. "You don''t want that guy to back in again, right~?"


    I felt the words stab into my heart. She surely could have referred me in any other way.


    Shaking my head to get rid of these thoughts, I exhaled deeply, despite how repulsive the mere act of breathing was in this place.


    You are used to this. Don''t let something like this sway you!


    I reminded myself. I cleared my throat, loud enough for the ones inside to hear me. The clipping sound of the heel against the stone floor stopped as I did. After exactly 5 seconds¡ªa customary requirement¡ªI knocked exactly three times and then took a step back from it.


    After a few hurried steps, the door flung open. Looking down, I caught sight of my mother. She was as beautiful as ever. Short and petite, yet her expressions, the way she held herself, her gaze¡ªeverything screamed absolute, ironclad authority. Her grey eyes fixed on me, only for a fleeting moment before turning around.


    I waited for her until she reached the middle of the room and then followed right after. The door was quite big. While I wasn''t the tallest person there was, I was definitely tall enough. And the door was around 7-8 inches taller than me.


    The thought that all of our ancestors were around this height baffles me.


    Moving on from the useless topic, the entire room was made out of thick stones of varying sizes. A huge table lined the other side of the room, extending from one corner to another, full of equipment. However, the most noticeable things in the room, without a sliver of a doubt, were the two chains sprawling downwards and the Elven girl captured in it.


    Multiple trails of blood came down from her wrist area that were tightly put in place like cuffs. The cuffs had two long but extremely sleek needles entering from one side of her wrists and protruding from the other. While usually such methods are used with a material that doesn''t inflict pain or infection, such considerations were "not needed" in our current situation.


    Despite the fact that she was in such a miserable condition, I couldn''t help but be mesmerised. Her long jade coloured hair was sprawled all over face and shoulders, and the blotches of blood all over hair and porcelain skin did little to dim her otherworldly beauty.


    Literally otherworldly. Hehe. Anyways.


    Her neck was hung low and from beneath the heavy curtain of her hair, the tips of her pointed ears were poking out.


    My mother looked at me and then flicked her head in her direction. Taking in a deep breath, I walked over to her and then lifted her head. The chains rattled in tandem with her flailing hands as she tried to lung forward and bite my nose off.


    Simply taking a step back, I avoided it and her teeth chomped on the pungent air. Her hateful jade eyes were almost shining as she glared at me.


    As she tried to step towards me, she winced and her body sagged down. Looking down, I saw the same Arcanum disruptors stabbed into feet that were stabbed into her wrists.


    Suddenly she started to convulse and an ear splitting shriek made me take another step away from her. She was shaking her hands, as if trying to reach for her head and clutch it. "Hrrmppphhhhhhh¡­" She clenched her jaw and bit away the scream, as if not wanting us to hear her.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Before I knew it, my mother was standing by my side. She placed both her hands on her face and forced her to look at her. "So beautifully defiant~" She cooed, her finger tracing around the edges of the elf''s face. "I love it when they struggle for life~ It''s kind of exciting~!" She exclaimed. However, her nail dug into the elf''s blood-caked skin, the smile still persistent. "And revolting. Filthy monkeys trying to deny the obvious superiors." The previous heart warming tone transformed into something totally different. Pure evil. And as soon as she had taken her mask off and revealed her real self, she wore that mask again. "So darling~ Please tell us how you got here~? There is no Frontier in this city so it''s impossible for you to come here."


    The girl looked back up at mom. I stood by her side, even though the Arcanum restrictors stabbed throughout her body were blocking the flow of it.


    I was no better than mom, but at least I could still use my Arcanum for basic body augmentations. If anything really went south, I was ready to lay down my life for her. She was my mother after all. Even if it didn''t mean much to her.


    *phtui*


    I felt as if time had slowed down. The Elven girl had spat on mom.


    Needless to say she had avoided due to her having access to Arcanum herself, while the elven girl was no better than a slightly above average human. However, the act of defiance despite being in such a state was absolutely baffling to me.


    Panic surged within me as I looked towards my mom, trying to sense anything. However, her face was impassive. Not smiling, not disgusted. Just complete and utter silence.


    "Stitch her lips." Mom pursed her lips and commanded with a calm demeanour.


    My hands trembled. Torturing people for the Olvasens was my role. However, most of them were spies by other Syndicates. This elf¡­ this girl¡­ she was more than likely unaware of how she ended up here. I had done this work long enough to know when a prisoner was lying or not. While the elven girl kept her facade of secrecy, she had nothing to unveil.


    She was just as clueless as we are about their appearance without a Frontier.


    And while she can''t use any Arcane Art due to blockage of flow of Arcanum in her other body parts, she can still use the Main Node in her heart to augment, or rather, form a wall around her brain. Stabbing her heart and brain would result in instant death.


    "Your thoughts are making it worse, Eric, I said¡­" she paused and turned towards me, "...stitch her lips."


    The hair on my nape rose up. Nodding my head, I walked over to the table and started taking out the necessary equipment.


    "You''re wrong. Dead wrong. Even if death itself came knocking at my door, I''d sooner spit in its face than betray my homeland or my people." She seethed and then smirked. "Apollo himself could descend from Olympus, and I''d look him straight in the eye and tell him the same damn thing. My loyalty is unbreakable and my silence permanent. So go ahead, unleash your hell upon me."


    Mother took a step towards her. "Nothing is permanent." She spoke and then wiped her hand with a white cloth. "All of you in Eden¡­ you disgust me. Such flawed creatures living amongst a superior race as humans¡ªthe idea itself is revolting."


    "Living together?" She coughed, blood trailing down her nose. "Act arrogant for as long as you can. You have no idea what''s coming for you."


    Mom straightened her back and then the same charming smile reappeared on her face. "On the contrary¡­" she rolled the words in her mouth for a few fleeting, blissful seconds before speaking, "...you have no idea what I am going to unleash on your kin."


    With those words she walked over to the door. "Stitch it up." She ordered without glancing back before shutting the door behind her with enough force to make the sound of it closing echo everywhere.


    I sighed, letting out a long breath. Picking up the huge needle, I threaded the surgical suture through the eye before giving it a small knot. Another heavy, pungent breath escaped my lips. As I walked over to her, she looked into my eyes for the first time.


    Two bright jade eyes. That had lost all their colour. There was no hope. No intel she could give. The last thing she vowed to do was to pose as someone with information. Except she didn''t have any.


    Grabbing her by the chin, I applied a little force, making her lips pout. "You should stop posing." I spoke, my words breathless. "I know you have nothing to tell them."


    She gnashed her teeth. "Don''t take pity on me, mudwalker!"


    An unrestrained chuckle escaped me. "Well, I am a mud-walker. Don''t you walk on mud as well?" I asked, genuinely curious and let go of her for a while.


    "You filthy mud crawler." She was seething. But her whole body was trembling. If I were to release her chains, she would more than likely just crawl into a corner and hug herself. There was an innocent vulnerability to her voice and words.


    "Well we do love getting dirty." I replied. The tremble in her body was still there. I took a lock of her hair and felt it between my fingers. Their hair felt like it was made out of something else. Totally different from ours.


    "Don''t touch me, HUMAN!"


    "My bad." I immediately let go of it. "Why are you doing this?" I asked. I was curious. She could escape this torture. Sure her Arcanum would still be sealed away, but she wouldn''t be subject to regular attempts by mother trying to tear her mind to bits and pieces and other psychological torture.


    "Because you filth deserve it."


    "I half-agree."


    She blinked a few times, not sure what to respond with.


    "Humans are full of crap, yes. But it''s impossible that every single one of you are saints, right?" I tried to reason. "You, or rather your ancestors, committed a holocaust against us. Just because we could reproduce quickly." I took a step forward. "In what world is that fair? Can you justify it?"


    She looked me in the eye. Without a sliver of doubt, she replied. "It''s unjustifiable."


    "See? So you do agre¡ª"


    "You deserved it."


    I looked at her with disbelief. "Are you serious? You just contradicted yourself!"


    "Humans did everything wrong. They got what was coming for them!" She squeaked, her voice cracking as she spoke.


    Letting out a weary sigh, I felt my brows raise up a fraction of an inch. Moving to the table, my fingers curled around the flask¡ªits texture and weight a comforting familiarity in my grip¡ªthat had some water to wash hands and carried it over to her.


    Though the flask was far from sterile, the alternative of bringing her water from upstairs would certainly result in me ending up trapped in an endless limbo of simulations created by my mom for a lifetime. And nope, I am not willing to undergo that for the sake of being good for a while.


    I am not that righteous.


    "K-Keep that away from me."

 18: Parallax - â…¢

    "Keep that away from me."


    If hate was a tangible emotion, it would''ve burnt my entire existence to the ground by now. I had no idea this much hate was humanly possible.


    But well¡­ she isn''t exactly a human now is she?


    "Your voice is abrading. It must be painful to even talk." I replied. Pausing for a while, I spoke again, my tone getting a little sarcastic. "Now you don''t expect me to give you water with a WQI score of 100 while being a war prisoner. Well, kind of war prisoner¡ª-"


    As I was talking, she spat again on the floor. However instead of actual saliva, it was composed of more blood than any other thing.


    "See? Spitting everywhere is another leading contribution to having a parched throat."


    "You talk too much." She spoke between ragged breaths. "You are my persecutor. And this is not your first time." She tried to scream, but all that came out was a frightened whimper. "Put me out of my misery¡­ be done with it."


    With that flask still in my hand, I walked closer. This time she didn''t look down. I could feel her breaths over my chin. "I do it out of obligation. Not because I enjoy it." I replied before placing the mouth of the flask on the lower side of her lips. "Drink up. This might be the last time you ever put something in your mouth."


    Her eyes flicked from my face down to the flask. As if swallowing her honour, she closed her eyes¡ª-perhaps offering a silent prayer¡ª-and then parted her lips just enough.


    Tilting the flask, a steady stream of water cascaded into her parched mouth, filling the interrogation room with the sound of loud, desperate gulps. Her throat worked furiously, evident from the rapid rise and fall of her throat bulge. I continued pouring it until she had emptied the whole flask in one go.


    I don''t blame her. It''s been almost two days.


    Not a single drop of water leaked elsewhere. It was surprising. Honestly.


    Once I felt that her breath had returned to normal, I stood in front of her. "Need something to eat?"


    "Why are you doing this?" She asked and for the first time in a long time what she said was not dipped in potent venom.


    Disregarding her question, I snapped my fingers. "See? You can talk normally. Isn''t it better than just cursing and spitting and causing opportunities for self-harm?" I spoke without waiting for an answer. "Also, your voice sounds a lot better now."


    Her sharp features tensed and the sound of her teeth grinding filled the ominously silent room.


    "You are having filthy thoughts about me, yes? That is why you are showing me your pathetic mercy!" She paused and her voice dropped down. "I knew it. You humans are filthy to your core."


    Raising my hands in jest, I shot back. "Hey, not our fault your men have a low libido."


    The chains clattered as she tried to jump at me. Trails of fresh blood seeped from inside the Arcanum restricting cuffs. Guess she is really sensitive about her people. Taking a mental note to not even joke about her people anymore, I fidgeted awkwardly around for a while.


    When I finally remembered what I was doing, I walked over to the table and picked up the biggest knife I could find. As I turned around, I saw dread in her eyes. Up until this point the torture was not serious enough to cut body parts. But seeing a bigger knife in my hand, she recoiled.


    Walking back to her, I flashed the blade in the dim lightning. Swallowing the lump in her throat audibly, she tensed up her muscles.


    A smirk formed on my lips as I took out an apple from the inside of my pocket. She looked at me, and then down at the fruit. Using the knife, I sliced the apple into equal sized pieces.


    As you would expect, she started struggling again. What a stubborn woman.


    Holding her small head from the top with my hand¡ªwhich fitted surprisingly nice into my grip¡ªI held it in place.


    "Look, I am no doctor, but heightened state of anxiety can increase sensitivity to pain and make the experience feel more overwhelming than it''s intended to be." I paused and looked down at her body. Her chest caved in and her elbow did so as well, as if trying to hide herself from my sight.


    Looking back up, I spoke again. "Your body is exhausted. There is no adrenaline to cushion the pain you are about to experience. Your whole body is shaking and your psyche¡ªdespite how tough you act¡ªis obviously rattled." My words came out harsher than I had intended to, however, I at least wanted to do this much.


    A leopard can''t change its spots, but that doesn''t justify not wanting to do something good. Despite how feeble¡­ how minute that deed is.


    "Do not touch me, heathen." She hissed.


    "Pfft¨C" Well don''t get me wrong. I am not trying to look down on her, or make fun of her. However, her usage of such words is just funny at this point. I do get why she says all this. After Earth and Eden separated, people have used these terms for people of other religions as well. However, hearing it in real life is just funny. "Sorry. But you should realise at this point that calling me mudwalker or heathen, or insulting the four gods we worship won''t get on my nerves." I paused, letting my words sink in. "I am not going to kill you due to losing myself to anger."


    The colour from her face seemed to flush out. I didn''t know that someone could get this pale. It''s genuinely surprising.


    "Well then. Here you go." I spoke after a bit too many moments of extremely uncomfortable¡ªno, grim silence. Her head was hung down as I feeded her a few slices of apple. She ate them silently, without making much sound.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    It was quite clear it was a fruit she had not tried before, however, I don''t think that is a matter of concern for her right now.


    I wanted to convince myself that she was a poor girl stranded in a different world, landing into the hands of people she would not have thought of, even in her nightmares. However, too much empathy was unneeded.


    Would they have spared Arthur? If¨C only if¡­ he had failed to defeat the giant and the dark elf, and had been captured, would he have been spared?


    The thought of Arthur going through the same torture, pain and potential ridicule sent an unsettling feeling wash over my heart. He was just a kid. No kid should be made to go through such things. But at the same time, this girl was a kid too. Yes, sure, in human years she was perhaps more than a 1000 years old, but she was barely older than Arthur in physical and mental capabilities.


    Looking down, I saw the bone in her left foot mangled.


    My jaw clenched itself. I hate doing this.


    "You know what''s funny." Trying to shrug off my own thoughts that were debilitating my will to act on mom''s direct orders, I tried to lighten up my mood. Even for a little while. Not looking back at the girl, I continued to talk, walking over to the table. Spinning around, I took a seat over the creaking surface. "The way you call me¡ªus humans as Mudwalkers, we also have a term."


    "That woman has made it quite clear what it is. You call us monkeys." As if trying to hide the fear of her impending doom, she smirked. Or at least tried to, resulting in a fusion between a smirk and a downward curve. It was quite hard to make sense of whether she was trying to look down at me or hold back tears. "As dull as ever."


    I tilted my head in confusion. After a while of emptily staring at each other, she looked back down, averting her gaze from me. Understanding that she had misinterpreted what I was going to say, I let out a chuckle before combing my fingers through my hair and slicking them back. "Oh, I was not talking about you." I waved my hand, dismissing what she had said. "What I was saying was that just as you call us humans as Mudwalkers, we also call other humans¡ªthose that don''t have Arcanum¡ªas Mudbloods. Weird how derogatory words start and end in mud. It''s not even that bad, to be fair!"


    Her features scrunched up. "Some humans¡­ don''t have Arcanum? Liar!"


    I felt my features relax. "Why would I lie about something like that? You must already know, this world didn''t have Arcanum to begin with." I shrugged my shoulders. "If each and every human knew about Arcanum, it would''ve been exhausted from Earth long ago."


    She frowned. Well I guess it must sound selfish to her. Monopolising Arcanum to a few humans.


    "That boy¡­ just who was he?" She asked, her frown deepening. "Are all humans this strong?"


    Oh that cheeky boy! Sure left a deep imprint on this elf maiden, heheheh! "Oh that. He''s my pookie bear!" I exclaimed, raising my fist into the air.


    ...¡­silence~


    I don''t even want to look back at her to see what kind of disgusted face she''s making.


    "Ehem, anyways. What I meant was that he''s my cut¡ª, he''s my younger brother. Yes. As for your second question¡­" I paused and flared my chest proudly. "No. Definitely not. Well Arcanum user his age can''t measure up to him. In any way possible." Thumping on my chest with pride, I exclaimed. "You were just too unlucky to have encountered him of all people in the world."


    She bit her lower lip. However, it seemed like there was some kind of weight that had been removed from her shoulders. "I see¡­"


    "You seem to have eased up with me." I spoke, looking at her from my spot. Her entire body tensed up. "Which kind of makes it even harder for me, haha¡ª" Sheepishly scratching my nape, I stood up. "I haven''t studied about species in Eden, but can you actually manipulate plants?"


    She looked at me in an absurd way. "No."


    "Oh, fair. I guess movies are just watered down stories from old times. You can''t even call them diluted. It''s a whole different thing now."


    "Mo¡­vies?"


    I was flabbergasted. No way they don''t have movies. "You seriously don''t have movies and stuff? What have you Edeners been doing for the last few million years or so??"


    The same frown reappeared on her face. "Few million¡­?"


    Something popped into my mind. Like a single cracker that inaugurates the many more that follow right after on Nytt?rsaften''s(1) night. Getting up from my place on the table, I quickly walked up to her. "How much time has passed since Eden and Earth were separated?"


    "You and your damned Gods stole this land from us. It was not separated. It was torn off our world-" She hissed. But that was not important.


    "How long has it been?" I asked, holding her by the chin and placing the needle in the middle of her lower lip. "You know this can be averted. You have nothing of value. But this can save you." I tried to talk her into it. Bringing in factors that she couldn''t deny. "And if you tell me a few things, I might ask Arthur¡ªmy brother to save your friend. You know, the dark elf¡­"


    Her eyes sparkled with joy. "She¡ªshe''s alive¡­?"


    "She is. But she can''t talk. Because of that nothing can stop her execution." I pressed. "Except this vital fact."


    Her jaw clenched. "A few hundred thousand years. Give or take."


    The news felt like the blow of a hammer against my head. That would mean that every day he spends inside the Frontier would be days¡­ weeks, hell even months!


    The needle dropped from my hands as I turned around.


    A chuckle filled the room as I moved towards the door.


    "Your little brother went inside this¡­ Frontier, yes? That means he is in Eden."


    My head snapped back at her. I have no idea what kind of face I was making, but I was sure it was not pleasant. Quite evident from how taken aback she was. As if trying to rub salt in my wound, she laughed as hard as she could.


    "If he is in Eden, he is not making it back alive." She stretched her neck forward, in my direction. "You said we were unlucky to run into him, right?" Her grin only widened. "Your brother was the lucky one to run into people who were not even apprentices. But that was just fate¡­" Her words were accentuated by the flickering light overhead. "...he will die. Tortured, torn to bits and his body parts displayed in the main square of the Holy Capital." There was a disgusting amount of relief in her voice. "Our deaths here will not be in vain. Hundreds, if not thousands of proud warriors of Eden will be waiting for him on the other side."


    I felt my eyes narrow. "Do not underestimate humans."


    That was the only thing I managed to talk out loud before shutting the door and running upstairs.


    So much for being a nice guy¡­


    ¡­maybe this hate between our species really is incurable.


    Despite how fast I was running, my mind was torn between two things. Fear for Arthur. I couldn''t care less about Michael. And the disappointment at the elf''s behaviour. I tried to show her not all humans were alike¡­


    I shouldn''t be so negative. We have trapped her and are torturing her. Of course she wouldn''t think of us as anything.


    As I ran inside the house, I soon spotted my mother. As I was running in her direction, she suddenly turned and pointed her finger in my direction. An invisible forcefield punched into my guts like a car. Absorbing the impact by just coating my body in Arcanum, I kept myself from falling.


    "Take your shoes off. I don''t want monkey blood on my rug¡ª"


    Interrupting her I spoke out of turn.


    "Arthur¡­he''s walked straight into an ambush."


    The Arcanum build up from her body was bile inducing and I almost fell to my knees. "Where is Aksel?" She demanded, her confident demeanour breaking.


    "He went to Fjellborg a while ago¡­"


    She was shaking. Every muscle in her body twitching. "Bring him back. Bring me my Arthur." She walked over to me and grabbed me by the collar. "Tell Aksel, I need my Arthur back. I am not going to let him waste just like this." An intangible weight pressed down on me. "Tell him to retrieve Arthur right now. Or I am leaving this place and going for him myself."


    I shuddered before taking a step back and getting out of her grasp. Taking the phone out of my pocket, I called my father.


    This is bad. As if two heirs falling into an ambush was not bad enough, mother is threatening to leave the house¡­


    ¡­this might be the end of our world.

 19: The Keep of Ruin - â… 

    Arthur Olvasen:


    The intricate web of my primary node surged and expanded in tandem with my pulsating heart, as I took in deep breaths of the fresh air infused with abnormal amounts of ambient Arcanum.


    "By the Osiris¡­" Michael''s dazed, distant voice echoed in my ears. He was not looking at anything in particular. His eyes were unfocused as he, as well, took in the naturally rich and high-quality ambient Arcanum.


    Turning my attention back to myself, I curled and uncurled my fingers.


    My body felt light. Exceptionally so. It felt like I had lost a few kilograms of weight in the matter of a few seconds. It was liberating. To an uncanny extent.


    A twinging wave pulsated across my chest. There was a slight, prickling sensation emanating from where my heart was. My primary node was expanding, yes. However, it was inside the heart. If it expands, it will more than likely force the heart to do so as well.


    It might as well just tear my heart apart.


    Not exactly panicking, I tried to put an intangible wall around the primary node, forcing it to stop sucking the high-quality Arcanum from the surroundings. As soon as I did, the heightened feeling of ecstasy also washed away, however, I had benefited enough from it.


    Too much selfishness can sometimes result in a person''s demise.


    I turned around and looked at Michael who was still in trance, his hands loose on the side and the straps of his bag slipping from his shoulders and slowly skidding down his arms. After a few minutes of blankly staring at him, he opened his eyes.


    "Whooo!" He exclaimed, shaking his head that made his white locks frolic wildly. "That was fucking awesome!" He exclaimed as he balled his hand into a fist and then punched at the open air. The crack of sound barrier breaking crackled as a loud boom filled the air, followed by the echoing sound that bounced off the towering canyon walls right beneath the cliff we were standing on.


    As he heard his echo as well, he took a step forward and peered down. "We got teleported to Arizona or something?" He mused with a delighted smirk; way too happy.


    Well, who wouldn''t be. Something impossible had just happened to us. After feeding on morsels of Arcanum for centuries, we will finally be able to use our Arcane Arts¡ªpotentially¡ªto its full extent.


    Our ancestors would never even have entertained the notion of humans increasing their Arcanum reserves. But it was possible. Not only was it possible, it was occurring to us.


    However, something didn''t just sit quite well with me.


    The fact that the primary node could stretch and expand. Adam''s scriptures never mentioned something like this.


    One theory could be because Adam and Eve both were born in a world where humans had free access to Arcanum. Their nodes might''ve matured before they even manifested their first Arcane Art. Maybe that is why they neither never noticed it, nor bothered to write about it. Naturally.


    Because the feeling of primary node expanding was more akin to a shrivelled-up bag of flesh suddenly being filled with water. Like a bag that always had the capability of storing this much water but never did due to the environment that forced it to stay humble in its consumption.


    "Do Arizona''s people have horns?" I asked, pointing down towards the epicentre of the Grand Canyon. Or what it looked like. While the Earth''s Grand Canyon had layered textures of deep reds and vibrant oranges to earthy browns and subtle yellows, this one was much duller, consisting mainly of a very light shade of black and some white stains.


    Michael squinted his eyes, focusing on the thin line moving. With enhanced vision one could tell it was a queue of denizens of Eden, chained from their neck to hands and then their feet in some kind of mediaeval shackles. Quite an old method of curbing offenders, but never mind. I guess people of Eden do like to keep old traditions alive.


    The dark elf girl¡ª-Thelasa¡ªwas also talking about her "prized" weapon being passed down as family heirloom. Which isn''t a predominant tradition on Earth anymore. It might be a thing, but as I said, not "predominant."


    While they were wearing long, baggy clothes that shielded even the outline of their appearances¡ªsave for the chains that were not only connected to their limbs but also by a long chain to each other, keeping them in line¡ª, the one person leading them at the front, presumably in charge of these prisoners was what made me assume we were not in Arizona.


    Even from this faraway vantage point, the man stood tall and imposing, his figure draped in a weathered red cloak that moved in tandem with his slow gait.


    There was no breeze and the sun was shining quite mercilessly on our skin, making my entire body sweat. With our eyes still on the man, I got rid of the overshirt and Michael removed his sweater, tossing it to the side.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Beneath the man''s cloak, he was wearing something that can only be regarded as a general''s uniform with layers of chainmail that gleamed dully in the sunlight, encasing his chest and shoulders in a shield of sorts. Most likely to neutralise any incoming projectiles.


    However, the chainmail was bright golden in colour, instead of the usual silver. It was quite strange. Did they not progress at all? Or have they combined modern technology with ancient weapons?


    I felt a little excited, but at the same time, if this was true, this was going to be concerning. Modern weapons on Earth¡ªexcept maybe tactical nukes¡ªwere unable to put a dent into Arcanum users. The Seven Syndicates made sure of the fact that no new weaponry can bypass Arcanum users'' defences.


    How foolish.


    The man''s legs were clad in sturdy leather greaves with multiple scratches, scuffed and worn from countless marches and skirmishes. But all of these bizarre elements in his attire¡ªby our modern standards¡ªpaled in comparison once I looked at his head.


    Or to be more specific. Although we were quite some distance, the pair of grey, curved¡ªgroove-like horns sprouted from his temples and extended upwards.


    He suddenly stopped and with a lightning quick speed he snapped his head backwards.


    Tackling my shoulder into Michael, I pulled him to the side as we both fell on the rocky ground. His limbs flailed and just as he was about to jump back to his feet, I held both his hands and pinned him to the ground.


    "You wanna do this right now, eh?"


    "He almost saw us." I hissed through my teeth before laying down on the ground as well.


    "You fucking pussy. You afraid of the first guy you see in this place?" His voice almost echoed as he tried to get up and held me by the scruff of my shirt.


    "If he can sense us looking at him even though we are only using bare minimum to augment our eyes, then yes. It''s not fear. It''s cautiousness. I am not going to die just because an idiot brute can''t think straight."


    As I spoke, he scowled down at me, his eyes flickering between different shades before finally returning to the usual bright golden. Flipping over to the side, he laid on the ground, with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish.


    The faint touch of the man''s Arcanum was still in the air. He was looking exactly here. However, since the cliff was a bit tilted, he had to go back from where he came to even try and get a peek at us. The terrain was in our favour. But I have to say¡­ his Arcanum sensitivity was extremely high. For an unsuspecting individual to pick on just basic sight augmentation from such a distance was absurd.


    Once I felt the slight movement in Arcanum subside, I looked at Michael. Without giving me anything, he sat back up. Stepping towards the corner of the edge in a crouched position, I got behind him. He looked around for a while as I readied myself for anything.


    The ring on my finger turned soft like clay, ready to be moulded into a weapon in a moment''s instance, while at the same time keeping it as close as I could to its original shape, so the performance of my Arcane Art does not give away our exact location. A few moments of gawking around here and there, Michael turned back.


    "They''re gone."


    A wave of relief washed over me as I got on one knee and opened my bag. To my side, I felt Michael shift and do something however I kept my gaze down. The bag Astrid had prepared for me was filled with basic rations¡ªa few snacks and 4 bottles of water¡ªa change of clothes and a long robe. Disregarding everything else, I took out the robe and stood up.


    It was a simple grey robe with a huge hood behind it. Looking over in Michael''s direction, I saw him touch and pick a few stones. He was smelling some and some never caught his eye. The ones that did qualify whatever test he was putting them through made its way into his pocket. As he looked in my direction, his nose scrunched up as if I had done something very wrong.


    "I didn''t even say something."


    "Even a blind guy can see you are trying to judge me and thinking of yourself as some superior specimen."


    "You overthink too much." I shrugged. "It''s unhealthy. Not to mention extremely unsightly."


    He scoffed. "There you go. You just proved what I just said." Shaking his head repeatedly and touching various parts of the ground, he stood up with a disappointed look on his face. "You don''t want me to use this now, do ya?" He suddenly asked, gripping his necklace.


    "No idea what that might be."


    I could guess the reason behind it, but what''s the point? There were more pressing matters at hand. It''s more than likely that that man will come back with more people towards this place once he is done escorting those slaves or servants or prisoners or whatever they were. It would be a logical course of action. Especially from someone who holds both power and a high authoritative position.


    How can I say he has authority? Well, he had a chainmail made of pure gold¡ªor what I think of as gold¡ªinstead of the regular ones. More than likely he has a high ranking. Not only that but the insignias hanging from his shirt were also quite the giveaway. We must leave as quickly as possible.


    As if he could hear the gears in my mind turning, Michael stooped down and picked his sweater up before packing it into the bag and taking out his own robe which was the same as mine. "What''s that plan?"


    Looking to my right, over my shoulder, I closed my bag and raised a brow at him. "You are asking me?"


    With a swift motion, Michael circled the robe around his body before draping it over his shoulders, feeling its weight settle comfortably. As he cinched it around their waist, the fabric enveloped him perfectly. Adjusting the folds, he looked up at me and then in a dramatic manner pulled the hood over his head. "You don''t want me to go totally balls to the walls and attack their front gates now, do ya?"


    There was an animalistic look in his eyes. One that made it very¡ªextremely clear that what he said just now was exactly what he was planning to do. That is, unless I have a better plan to enact. Something that is effective. Our Arcanum reserve was a bit bigger than before, yes, however, it didn''t mean we could go head-to-head with people of Eden. Especially not when they practically bathe in Arcanum.


    "I don''t exactly have a plan." I replied, being totally honest. It was true. It was my first time here as well. What was I supposed to know? "What we are lacking right now is intel. Once we have enough of it, we can mitigate the risk here. Even if we can''t do that and push comes to shove, the shimmer will collapse in 6-7 days anyways. Once that happens, the other Syndicates will arrive as well."


    "How you so certain ''bout the shimmer only lastin'' 6 days?" He asked, kicking a stray rock down the cliff.

 20: The Keep Of Ruin - â…¡

    I stayed silent and followed the rock''s fall. It rolled down the precipice and skidded along the rough ending of the downward slope from the edge.


    The small area right beneath the cliff was a small congregation of trees. Although it was enough to pass as a small forest.


    And beyond that forest was the beginning of the place that we were referring to as Eden''s Grand Canyon.


    Just like the one on earth, this one had multiple layers.


    However, the key difference was that while the earth one''s layers and coloured textures seemed to be a result of corrosion over time, this dull black colour was more akin to a char.


    Like the whole place was caught on some kind of fire. It would''ve made sense if this whole place was forest, however, trees can''t grow at those twisted angles.


    On the opposite side of the canyon, several slopes stood apart from its rugged layers, creating a rather picturesquely scenic view, if you could ignore the grave nature of our situation.


    Vestiges of a road were still visible around one of them, refusing to let go as the asphalt or tar or whatever it was made of stuck stubbornly to the rocks.


    Here and there, glimpses of the weathered stones peeked through the overgrowth beneath as well.


    My daze was overridden by the rock that hit a tree below, causing a slight susurrating sound, followed by the light crunch of the branch breaking. "Because that is the deadline. That''s why."


    "So, the shimmer would listen to you?" He asked. A bit sarcastically albeit.


    I clicked my tongue against the upper side of my mouth. This was something I experienced when we first arrived in Seoul and the shimmer first started expanding. It is not a part of the ¡¸Merger. ¡¹


    On the contrary, it''s something left by the Gods. A mechanic against the merger. I could hear an almost sentient screech from it back in Seoul, every time, right before it expanded. "The shimmer is like¡­ a cushion."


    "A cushion?"


    "Have you not ever thought about it? What would happen when a world''s landmass suddenly increases?"


    "Why bother thinkin'' ''bout it? That''s so nerdy."


    And you sound like a goof!


    "The total mass of Earth would also increase. It''s likely it will throw the world off orbit. Maybe even into the sun." I explained. Folding his arms he held his chin between his thumb and index finger, he focused. "Tectonic plates shifting, gravity increasing. The merger will result in an increase in the area of land; however, it will flatten a lot of area as well. Earth, as well as Eden."


    "Well, this whole lot of orbits'' shittery flew over my head, but do any of us actually know how the merger works?" He asked, removing the hood and wiping the beads of sweat from his face. "I mean, what the fuck is even all this shit? Are we in a separate dimension? Mirror dimension? If we are merging, who''s merging with who? Frontiers appeared here, so that means our world is in a better state? That''s why Earth''s landmass is increasing rather than Eden''s? Is earth actually stripped away from Eden or was it just created as another world? And if our world is in a better state, does that mean their solar system is dying?" He ruffled his pure white locks and even more frayed hair covered his face. "So confusing. If only we didn''t have to worry about this nerdy stuff and could just break some bones." He spoke, smacking his fist into his palm.


    "Too bad we can''t do that." I paused. What I was about to say was hard to say, but it was true regardless. "Break their bones, that is." I continued, as a matter-of-factly.


    "Speak for yourself." Michael snorted. "As if I''d lose to a bunch of horny mutts."


    "Horny?"


    "Ya know, they got horns and all th¡ª fuck you. Don''t talk to me." He looked the other way, cutting the sentence midway.


    ¡­why does everyone around me act like pubescent teenagers?


    Ignoring his tantrum? Or whatever he was having, I continued speaking anyways. "The shimmer was fighting back against the expansion of the Frontier''s boundary. Stopping it from tearing space-time and making a place for itself." I paused. I had no idea if saying this was necessary. However, it was prudent I worked alongside him to handle matters here. "Astrid''s Arcane Art will aid the shimmer."


    While it was not entirely true, it was believable enough. Michael had seen how Astrid completely unsealed the entrance and then sealed it again.


    "Hmmmm¡­" he hummed out loud, exhaling aggressively through his nose. I could almost see a chubby hamster trying to keep up on the wheel inside his head. With an exaggerated puff of his chest, he made a sophisticated face. "I get it. All of it."


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    I am sure you do.


    "Good." I replied despite knowing the truth. "So, we should leave."


    "Leave where?" He called out after me as I was picking up my bag.


    "To gather intel. I think I made it quite clear in the start."


    "Oh. Yeah, ok, whatever." He crouched and picked his bag up. "Where you gonna do that?"


    "No idea." I shrugged. "But definitely not here. The quicker we leave this place, the better."


    Slinging the bags over our shoulders, I took the first step towards the edge of the cliff. Looking up at the sky, it was clear blue without a single cloud in sight. Other than the canyon, the terrain itself looked desert-ish. Evident from how there was a crunchy feeling of sand between my teeth every time I opened my mouth to speak or breathe.


    However, a huge semi-transparent dome-like thing was partly visible all around us. Except the sky of course.


    The sun''s shape was rather peculiar¡­ anomalous as well. It wasn''t quite round. Scratch "quite," it was not round at all. It was more like a lens. Reminiscent of a mathematical lens formed by the intersection of two disks with the same radius, intersecting in such a way that the centre of each disk lies on the perimeter of the other. A vesica piscis.


    It was eerie. For a moment I thought why hasn''t Michael observed this? But the realisation struck me soon after. Even if he did, he would definitely just think of it as some "fancy sun" of Eden. Even though the scriptures have more than once¡ªindirectly¡ªhinted at it being round. Looking down at my palm, a small spark of electricity ran between my fingers. Fiddling with the little spark for a while¡ªwhich oddly calmed my nerves in face of the coming challenges¡ªI looked to the side, at him.


    "What? It''s not like it''s that deep."


    "I know." I replied. "Please don''t awaken the whole world with your landing."


    Rolling his eyes, he replied. "Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. I got it."


    With that, both of us let our bodies free fall.


    The blowing wind first whisked the hood and then my hair upwards. But something about our fall was suspicious. It was aggravating in a way that I could not quite put my finger on. Before we knew it, the fall of 30 meters or so was already finished.


    Semi-translucent sparks of a forcefield oscillated rapidly between my feet and the incoming plane where I was about to land as I stopped just a few centimetres above the ground. Michael also controlled his power, although his landing did result in a protrusion that was a blunt, rocky spike amidst the congregation of trees. The noise it made was feeble enough to not attract any unwarranted attention though, making only a dull clatter of the spike breaking and small chunks of it clattering meekly against the trees'' trunk.


    "Let''s go." I prompted, tightening my hold over the straps of the bag around my shoulder. However, before we could leave, I remembered something. "Wait." I called out for Michael and turned around. Taking out my ring and moulding it into a dagger, I stabbed it right along the surface of the mountain, on which''s cliff we were standing on that overlooked the canyon and took a step back.


    "Fuck was that for?"


    "Insurance." I replied, looking over my shoulder. Grinning internally, I remembered Albert''s words. ''Lack of terrain,'' he said. He was so right. "This is our way out of here if get in trouble."


    He looked over my shoulder at the dagger that looked no different than ordinary ones and shrugged. "Might be yours. I am confident in my abilities." He tried to flex his chest arrogantly.


    "I am very sure you are." I replied caustically. "And I am depending on that as well." I spoke as I passed him.


    I could not see his expression but I am sure he has his head right into the clouds. Which, from a logical perspective, is not that wrong. He had every right to be arrogant. However, he is missing out on something very vital.


    We are not on Earth anymore. Not only do Earth''s laws don''t work here, people are not afraid to kill us here. And unlike Earth, even slaves here, that are old enough, might be stronger than us. Even having the ability to kill us.


    "Although, I do hope you come off that divine chariot of yours and stop putting everything in jeopardy."


    "Worry about yourself, lil'' guy."


    We are the same height though.


    Turning my head away from him, I pulled the hood back up and continued our journey towards the entrance of the canyon.


    I might be getting too optimistic with our condition though.


    ---


    The sun had reached its absolute zenith by the time we got anywhere closer to the entrance that led to the canyon. While the whole area, including the small mountain where we were teleported to, was can be technically called as a part of the canyon, what I meant by the entrance was the huge place that was barred behind huge gates.


    The inner valley of the canyon.


    Up until now, if my perception of distance and time has not already been lost, we have walked- or rather had a brisk jog for 40 kilometres in around 3 hours. It was pretty decent, given the fact both of us were gifted by the blessing of Arcanum.


    The terrain up until now was a mix of different sized rocks and gravel, paving a rather scraggly path ahead that undulated up and down, every now and then.


    A few ruts of various designs¨C¨Cmore than likely carriage wheels¨C¨Cformed and spliced together, leading to a single place. On both sides of the partly wet, partly sandy road. On our left side was an avenue of trees that stretched from back where we started and continued to extend towards the entrance.


    From our bird view earlier, there was no vegetation inside the canyon. So perhaps this avenue will end once we reach the entrance. On our right side was a narrow and dried up riverbed. Only a thin streak flowed through it, and sediments and rocks were visible, embedded into the side banks.


    We had our hoods pulled completely low, totally hiding our features. So much that it was hindering our ability to see. However, from what we saw, the other people were doing the same. Going along with the flow proved quite nice seeing how no one got suspicious of us so far, despite so many people crossing by us.


    However, the one thing that was troubling me was¡­


    "We have no fucking horns! You think all those that stopped to look at us are utter fucking idiots? ''Cause I think they are!" As if reading my anxiety, Michael almost burst out but kept his volume down. "Everyone else has horns!"


    Aside from the horns, another pressing matter was that we were still not aware of the language that the people of this world¨C¨CEden¨C¨Cspoke.


    While it was not a problem for me to convey what I wanted to say, Michael on the other hand was a problem. Well, it''s not like there were no implications for me as well, but Michael was in a bigger pickle than me.


    "Hey asshole, you died or something?" His sharp, sandpapery voice brought me out of my thoughts.

 21: The Keep Of Ruin - â…¢

    "Hey asshole, you died or something?" His sharp, sandpapery voice brought me out of my thoughts.


    "Are a few moments of silence making you miss our little chats already?" I quipped.


    "Totally." His voice was full of lampoon humour. "I am so in love with your self-absorbed analysis of everything and your ability to get on my fucking nerves. What will I do without it!?"


    "That was a bit over the top." I admitted as he made a grumbling sound. "Although I do agree. Majority of the people we are passing by have horns."


    "Yeah, that''s what I just fucking said. Are you seriously going to repeat after me and think you did something?"


    I already knew it, but how can someone be so insufferably annoying? It''s honestly astonishing how people around him are still alive and have not committed suicide just by being in close proximity of him. A week of Michael is enough to drive me to the precipice of contemplation about ending my life.


    "What do you want me to reply with then?" I shot back. "It''s not like anything I say is going to go through that thick cranium of yours. You are too self-centred to work with." I paused as I saw him glaring daggers at me. "If you want something from me, or want me to say something, just ask it directly. Don''t talk in circles or rhetorics."


    He stopped, his boots digging into the rocky-muddy pavement. "Alright. I will ask away." He spoke through clenched teeth and his Arcanum started to somewhat bloom. "I was going along with your plan because it made sense. Right now, it''s senseless venture into an unknown territory where we are going to get captured before we even make it inside."


    Removing the hood just enough to let him see my face, I slightly grinned. "Well then¡­" I paused and got closer to him. Close enough that our faces were just inches apart from each other. "¡­fuck off you pussy."


    The feeling of a curse rolling out of my tongue¨C¨Cout loud¨C¨Cwas like puking bile. I can''t even begin to imagine how this foul-mouthed creature curses in every sentence. Although after probing for the right moment, I was finally able to use his own words against him.


    For the first time he was totally silent. The bloom of Arcanum dissipated like a balloon deflating after getting poked by a sharp object before totally disappearing. He pulled his hood up for a fraction of an inch. "I will kill you once we get out of here."


    "You are welcome to come and try." I replied, taking a step forward. Pausing, I looked back. "But don''t expect to come out of it alive."


    He only pulled his hood back to cover his face. Taking hurried steps, he walked past me, picking up pace. I did the same and caught up to him.


    As we were progressively getting closer to the entrance, someone came from the opposite direction, walking in the same lane as us.


    It was a short woman. She was wearing a long robe, much like us. However, while ours was of thick quality, practically boiling us inside, her robes were quite light¨C¨Cboth in material and colour¨C¨Cand seemed to refract sunlight quite well.


    She was a rather old woman with a huge sack on her back. Long violet hair with multiple streaks of white and silver lined her hair, diluting most of the otherworldly colour in her hair.


    The skin on her whole body, especially around the eyes, was quite loose. Albeit that failed to mask the beautiful features¨C¨Cstraight nose, almond-shaped violet eyes and an unblemished skin¨C¨Cthat were now marred by the passage of time.


    Although she had no horns.


    If I had to guess she was no taller than 148 cm.


    As for the age, it works differently for different races. But a rough estimate would put her around 10,000 years. Give or take.


    Or I might be totally wrong.


    Her appearance and overall aura gave out the energy of a very kind grandma who loves to distribute cookies.


    Not like I ever met my own grandma, and she gave me anything of that sort.


    But according to Astrid, her grandma used to do this every week where she would make her cookies in a jar. A practice she continued until eventually she died 2 years prior to her parents'' death.


    The woman was wearing a long robe with some kind of metallic chain connecting the two sides of her robe together.


    She looked up at me and then at Michael. Placing the huge sack on the muddy ground below, she sported a gentle smile before talking out loud.


    "Are you going to ''The Keep of Ruin''?" She asked, her voice unsettlingly kind and sweet.


    So, it''s called "The Keep of the Ruin," huh? I suppose I can stop calling it Eden''s Canyon.


    I felt Michael shudder right beside me. Taking half a step in my direction without facing me, he whispered. "Abrahamic?"


    The woman looked at me and then at Michael confusingly.


    Abrahamic was not a recognised language. Although it was known as a language that "once existed," multiple religions deemed it to be a divine language in which the God communicated with Adam before banishing him from Eden.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    However, in reality, it was the original language of Eden.


    Since it has been a few million years, one would expect from even people in Eden to change their language, or have some off-shoots of it or develop some accents, however, it was still the same. No changes.


    They really do love their history.


    "Seems so." I replied.


    Suddenly, Michael took his hood off. I almost instinctively reached out for him; however, I bit the reflex. The woman doesn''t seem to be fazed. If I had reacted that way, she would''ve thought of this as suspicious.


    "Yes, we are." Michael replied with a smile, crouching down as he supported himself by placing his hands on his knees. "Is this right path, granny?" His voice¨C¨Cthat had usually a cruel, raspy touch to it¨C¨Cwas awfully toned down.


    The woman smiled gently and then turned around. "Go straight and then take a sharp left. There you will meet Hagrid, a troll, who will give you a ticket of entry into the inner walls." She explained. "Be sure to not pay more than 1 glimmerstone though." She added a free advice at the end. "That guy is a major swindler. Especially when it''s people who are visiting for the first time."


    "1 glimmerstone is a lot." I shot an arrow into the dark.


    She turned towards me with the same kind, gentle smile. "It is dear child." She paused and clenched her chest, coughing a few times before continuing. "But it''s hard times. I heard Eden, or this area in particular is going to face the wrath of Gods." She leaned in as she spoke, as if sharing a secret. The warm smile was suddenly replaced by a sad look.


    She turned towards me with the same kind, gentle smile. "It is dear child." She paused and clenched her chest, coughing a few times before continuing. "But it''s hard times. I heard this area is going to face the wrath of Gods." She leaned in as she spoke, as if sharing a secret.


    The warm smile was suddenly replaced by a sad look. "I only came here to see my son off."


    See her son off? What does she mean by that?


    Her voice turned heavy, and she mumbled under her breath. "If only I could replace him." Her hand moved upwards, and she rubbed the side of her nose, smudging a trail of moisture. "Ah, sorry." She looked up and blinked several times, nervously chuckling.


    Although not fully understanding, presumable, Michael placed a hand on her shoulder regardless. "It''s fine, granny. Shit happens."


    The old woman looked up to him as if not understanding what he had just said.


    Abrahamic doesn''t have slang for ''shit''. He literally just said it in English.


    "Oh-uh, I mean, stuff happens." He patted her shoulder one more time.


    The old woman made a face as if she understood what he was trying to say. And then placing her own hand over Michael''s that was resting gently on her shoulder, she squeezed it. "Thank you."


    He removed his hand after a nod and picked the sack up from the ground, putting it back on her bag. While comparing his strength using average human benchmark would be extremely unfair, it was still quite clear that the sack she was carrying was mostly empty and was simple inflated.


    "Uh, excuse me." I called out for her this time. Michael shot me a vicious look, as if even talking to this woman will make him kill me. Disregarding it, I looked down at the woman. "Is the price negotiable? I mean, can we bargain with this Hagrid fellow?"


    She tilted a bit to the side from the weight of her sack as Michael helped it up. "I am afraid not, since the fee collection is done directly by Deford Kingdom''s Crown Taxation Authority. Those Imperial bastards have no regard for the poor." She paused and a bitter smile formed on her face. "Well, this place isn''t meant for unnecessary people anyways."


    I was running out of luck however; I needed to collect the most I could from her. "It must''ve cost you a lot."


    She looked down and patted the bulge that stuck out from the inside of her robe. "4 glimmerstones were my life savings. Used 1 to get in there."


    So, she has a few more.


    "Alright, thanks." I bowed a little.


    "Ah, no need for your lordship to bow." She spoke, slightly panicking.


    I tilted my head and Michael too had a confused look on his face.


    "I can tell by how refined you are." She spoke as if she knew the secrets of the universe. "And no way someone as good looking as you both would be in the boonies like this. And besides¡­" She paused for a while before speaking again. "Only the Cromwells have white hair and such piercing golden eyes."


    Michael flinched beside her.


    I bent my back a little. "You are a wise woman. This here is the heir of the Cromwells. And I am his lordship''s humble caretaker."


    She suddenly glued herself to me, holding on to my arms for dear life. "Please, my lord, you have to convince the young lord to spare my son."


    Woah, woah. Stimulation overload. What on Earth¡ªI mean, Eden is going on?


    Grabbing her by the arms and supporting her weight, I helped her on her feet. However, she refused to let go of me or my robes, breaking into a relentless fit of sobs.


    "My¡ª my son. I was sick and¡ª" she paused midway, "¡ªhe''s so young. You can take me instead! He only robbed the Baron because he was worried about me. If anyone should be executed for this crime, it''s me, not him."


    Michael walked over to us and patted her back.


    "Stand." He spoke.


    He''s already in character.


    As she did, wiping her tear and sweat caked face with the sleeve of her robe, he continued. "What''s the name of your son?"


    "Ed. Just Ed." She spoke between sniffles. "Please, your lordship, you have to leave him. I won''t be able to continue living without him. He''s all I have."


    Michael nodded. "I will try to break Ed out of there."


    "B-Break out?"


    This idiot.


    "I mean, release him."


    She casted a rather sceptical look at Michael, which made me a little uneasy.


    After a while of back-and-forth and some reassurance, she decided it was time to leave. Although the sadness of losing her son still was there, she seemed to be better than a while before.


    But this doesn''t make sense. Her son is more than likely dead. The way the prisoners were limping with that horned man, I am pretty sure a lot of them died just from the journey. And it has been quite a lot of time since left that place.


    Even if her son was not in the caravan of prisoners, he would be long dead by now.


    I tried to spread my Arcanum and the primary node suddenly fluttered as the purer form of Arcanum coursed through it. Trying to reach for a tether, I grasped it, delicately.


    I am not very fond of this application of our Arcane Arts; however, desperate times call for desperate measures. As I reached out for it, my consciousness was pulled somewhere for a brief moment before returning back to me.


    By then, she had already bid her farewells to Michael and then nodded her head towards me. As she started walking, I suddenly called out to her.


    "The path out is that way." I pointed in the direction she was walking previously.


    "Hoho, I might be going senile." She let out a light-hearted, girlish giggle before wobbling and turning around. Michael also let out a warm chuckle, looking at her with a rather soft gaze from behind the snow-white strands.


    I breathed in shakily.


    Morphing the chain that connected the two parted sides of her robe into a makeshift blade, I caught her from behind. The blade manifested as an extension of my four fingers combining into one as I slit her throat deep enough that it cut her wind pipe cleanly and placed my hand on her mouth to muffle out any sound.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Michael standing in a daze, looking at me with wide eyes.


    Her body flailed in my grasp as I kept her in place.


    Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

 22: The Keep Of Ruin - â…£

    Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?


    As the glittery, silverish blood flowed from her neck, Michael ran over to me.


    "Fucking dickhead! Why did you kill her?" He barked and at the same time swung at me.


    Throwing her still warm and twitching body to the side, I avoided his punch.


    "Don''t you think it''s a bit too suspicious? She suddenly comes here and gives us information."


    "Just because the old woman is from Eden doesn''t mean she deserved to die."


    Arcanum flickered to life around his fists as he swung at me again. I dodged; however, the aftershock of his punch blew a cut right underneath my eye. A few drops of blood flew in front of eyes, as if suspended in air.


    Just as he was about to drive a knee into my mid-section, I coated my own hand with some Arcanum and swatted it to the side before turning around and landing the back side of my fist into his face. The impact was not much, although it sent an echoing tremble throughout the place.


    "It''s impossible she has a son that is about to be executed." I raised my voice, removing the hood from my face.


    He straightened his back. "You''ll blabber anything to justify yourself, you shithead."


    "How is an old woman allowed inside a military encampment?" I blurted out, my own frustration reaching to a boiling point. "This doesn''t make sense. If stealing from a Baron warrants a punishment in a ruined place such as this, most likely hundreds of kilometres away from mainland, why would a civilian be allowed inside the walls? How did she reach here before execution? There are so many holes in her story."


    He stopped, the veil of Arcanum around him still dense. "What''s your point?"


    "She was lying to us." I replied. "People who walked past us, almost everyone had horns. And the ones we thought didn''t have it were wearing huge hoods over their heads. We have no way of telling if there is any person of another race here or no."


    He pointed at the woman. "You have lost your mind. Don''t you see there are no horns on her? Even if that''s the case, why did you kill an old woman?!"


    Walking over to the woman, I turned her around. The image of blood caked face garbled, like a static of some sorts was covering it and then concentrated around her temples before dissipating, revealing two extremely small stubs. "You were saying?"


    "How do I know it''s not your doing?"


    "That''s nonsense. Why would I even do it? What''s any benefit in doing so? Whatever it was, she was not there to meet her son at least."


    Michael grinded his teeth furiously. "That didn''t justify killing her."


    "Look around you. It''s a military encampment. Look at the dome around us. They are going to attack us. And more than likely she is a part of them as well. If anything, we have one less Edener to worry about."


    "She was a sickly old woman." He shook his head. Placing his hands on his waist, he walked back and forth. "This is why I hate you. You have no common sense for empathy. You can''t go on a brainless slaughter."


    "I can." I replied, without missing a beat. "And I will. Just like how they will do it as well." Staring into his eyes, I spoke again. "You will understand it when the same people you leave alive out of mercy take, rape and kill your little siblings."


    "Don''t bring my siblings into it."


    "It''s the same for everyone. Get your mind in the right zone. Or just return to from where we came. I am not forcing you into anything."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Saying that, I turned around and crouched down. Searching for the woman''s body, I took out the bulge in her pocket. It was a small pouch. Upon opening it, I found around 10 glimmerstones. They were sapphire-coloured coins with a platinum-coloured flame in the middle of it. It was semi-see-through and weighed much less than a krone coin.


    She was lying after all.


    Slipping them into my pocket, I searched for the device she used to hide her horns. She wasn''t carrying it on her body; hence, I started searching it inside her sack.


    While I was doing, Michael stooped down and closed her wide eyes and then picked her up in a princess carry.


    "What are you doing?"


    "She was well past her years. She at least deserves a burial." He replied, his voice sombre.


    "Just don''t take too long."


    "Fuck off."


    Saying that, he went away.


    Sighing, I turned my attention back to the task at hand. The sack was mostly empty save for a few rations consisting of water and some food I couldn''t make sense of. Picking them up regardless and slipping the few other coins that were inside a food can of sorts into my pocket, I picked the sack and hid it behind a tree.


    After around 10 minutes, Michael was back, the sleeves of his robe dirty with foliage of mud-caked withered leaves.


    He casted only one sidelong glance at me before pulling his hood up and then stood against the tree. Once I had gathered enough material, I hid my bag into one of the top branches of the trees that formed the avenue to the right side and only took necessary things with me. Michael did the same.


    Changing the knife''s shape back to the chain it was before, I was about to place it inside my pocket. However, right before I placed it inside, I felt a small bulge on it.


    Bringing it close to my eyes, I saw a red jewel on top of it. As I slightly pressed it, it moved a little inwards and I felt it tamper with my Arcanum. However, nothing happened.


    What was that?


    I pressed it once more, but nothing happened again.


    Could it be¡­


    The woman''s stub like horns only appeared after she completely stopped moving.


    I pressed it again and this time visualised it. The appearance I wanted.


    I stabbing sensation coursed through my temple. Michael who was standing with an indifferent expression and only stealing a few glances until now suddenly lost his composure and turned his head towards me.


    As I brought my hand upwards, I felt a small groove. Extending from my temples and having a small curve at the end. Like the horn of a mountain goat.


    An unknowing smile crept up to my face. "Looks like we got our way inside."


    I wasn''t expecting it to be this convenient. And it has just been a few hours since we entered Eden as well.


    But this worries me as well.


    Things are going too smoothly.


    Holding the chain out to Michael, I spoke. "You take it."


    "No."


    "The woman said Cromwells, who are presumably the commanding family of this place, have white hair and yellow eyes. Between you and me, only one of us have those features."


    "And what about you?"


    Although he asked a question that would make it look like he was worried, there was obvious venom and spite in it. He has an oddly high sense of righteousness for someone as boisterous as him.


    "Same ploy as before. You be the Cromwell, I will be your caretaker, or servant, or whatever. Doesn''t really matter to me."


    He yanked the chain from my grasp before attaching it to his robe in the same way as the woman did.


    "That is not a very good idea, I must say." I spoke my thoughts out loud but dismissed them after a sigh. "But if an alien old woman meant so much to you, then you can do it, I guess."


    "I wasn''t asking for permission."


    Saying that, he turned around aggressively, his robe fluttering dramatically in the air and started walking towards the place where the woman told us we would have to pay Hagrid, who was a troll.


    Trolls have not been mentioned a lot of times in Adam''s diaries. They were one of the neutral races during the Holocaust of the humans.


    Luck has been on our side so far. Who knew we would get the answer to our biggest problem so easily.


    Although, something has been eating away at me. And the worst part is that I have no idea of what it is. It''s like an itch you can''t quite scratch.


    Was it related to Astrid? Or the weird shape of the sun? Or the fact that the change in gravity in Eden is kind of throwing my Arcane Arts calculations off balance? Or was it something else? I had no way to tell.


    And we were so close to the entrance of this "Keep of Ruin," that I had no time to stop and think.


    I had to improvise from here on out.


    As a pair of onyx horns curved outward from the sides of his head like twisted obsidian. The bulky protrusions started from just above his temples, the horns coiling sinuously, and the pitch-black surface marred by subtle, jagged ridges that traced the spiral ascent.


    Both horns were tapered to a pointed tip, sharp and bleak. The faintest hint of a crimson hue danced along the edges of the horns.


    Horns that plausibly looked exactly like the ones the man had that was leading the caravan of prisoners.


    Pulling his hood over the horns, he puffed his chest out and started walking with a sense of authority.


    Leave it to Michael to act all privileged.


    After an hour of walking straight and another 30 minutes of walking following the left turn, we finally arrived at the small establishment. An establishment with something written over its board. In a language we couldn''t understand.


    I took in a deep breath.


    Things will only start getting messier from here.

 23: The Black Pit of Death - â… 

    3rd person POV:


    Arriving at the place that sanctioned the passes for entrance into the military encampment¡ª-or that''s what the duo¡ªArthur and Michael¡ªcame to call it¡ªwas not the hard part.


    However, getting inside the establishment with the delusive horns fuelled by the unassuming artefact, acting as a natural denizen of Eden and getting the pass without raising any kind of suspicion was the actual cumbersome task.


    With Michael in the lead and Arthur standing right behind him, towards his left, the two looked up at the sign before letting out a synchronised nervous, yet mollifyingly excited breath.


    The structure of the establishment, overall, was not exactly huge or imposing. As a matter of fact, it paled in comparison to even the chintziest offices on Earth.


    It was a decent-sized, square-shaped shack spanning about 50 metres in width and 50 metres in height. The material used in construction seemed to be wood of different dull colours, worn out due to the harsh weather.


    The myriad of colours included light red, green, blue, yellow, black, grey and white. With the whole cube-like shape and blocks of different kinds of materials in different colours, the shack looked more like a ginormous Rubik''s cube than a place that held such strong importance.


    With another steady, determined breath, the two of them walked in.


    The door opened and a heavy breeze blew carrying the musty, nauseating stench of some kind of alcohol mixed in with every other disgusting thing.


    Michael breathed out from his nose, a huge frown appearing on his face. While Arthur slipped even further behind him. Acting like his shadow.


    The inside of the shack had minimalistic decorations with a few scenic pictures hanging from the walls, some tilted at an unusual angle and some having cracked glass surfaces. On the other side were 3 swords hung from the wall that reminded Arthur of ancient European claymores.


    There was no specific seating arrangement.


    Round tables lined almost every nook-and-cranny of the establishment and chairs made of the same material, roughly 4 of them, were around every table.


    People of different races were sitting on those chairs.


    Most of them were Trolls.


    With body proportions that consisted more of fat than muscle, each of them was twice as tall as Michael and Arthur.


    Arthur''s gaze washed over most of them and then landed straight at the one behind the counter. The one emitting the most potent form of Arcanum that spilled outwards and filled the entire place like stagnant water in a pond. The commanding force keeping everything in place.


    And it was true as well.


    This place is more like a pub than a ticket sanctioning place. He thought. And at the same time this place is way too organised for a place like a pub. Especially when everyone is so hopelessly plastered and hammered.


    As he was looking straight at the one beside the counter, the Troll jerked its head back at him.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    His body was exorbitantly hulking and imposing¡ªeven when surrounded by others of the same species, consisting of a mass of sinewy muscles that bulged beneath the chiton that seemed to be made of the hide of a green coloured monster.


    His back was mostly exposed, providing visual on the jagged ridges all along the cream-coloured skin, right over its spine like the miniature peaks of distant mountains.


    From beneath his thick brow¡ªthat could pass as a small bush¡ªhis single, inverted eye narrowed sideways as it peered at Michael.


    "He looks like a derpy version of the Hulk." Michael snickered to himself as Arthur struggled to listen to what he was saying.


    The other trolls and some other species spared one look at the duo before returning either going back to sleep while losing consciousness or to drinking.


    A few murmurs of ''Damned Imperialists'' echoed; however, they were drowned out by the clatter of cups falling from the tray of a young woman who didn''t have any outlandish features of the other species. Just simple human-like features with black hair and a pair of dull maroon eyes.


    Her ears were slightly rounder than a human''s and she was a bit on the chubby side.


    "And that shawty''s a dwarf." Michael commented again.


    Although Arthur heard it this time, his inability to keep up with trends or slang words, unlike Astrid, rendered him unable to understand what he said. Shrugging it off as just another thing he couldn''t quite grasp, he turned his attention back at the main troll who was still looking at Michael from the corner of his vertically oriented eye.


    His broad nose, like the prow of a ship, flared as he breathed, and his thick, meaty lips were drawn back in a perpetual frown.


    Tufts of coarse hair sprouted from its oversized ears. From the way they hung down from the side of his head, Arthur wondered if they were even functional.


    As the two of them reached the counter, Michael banged both his hands on the table.


    The bottles on the table and in the small shelf behind all shivered as he clicked his tongue.


    What happened to staying discreet!


    As the troll turned around and walked over to the counter, his shadow covered both Arthur and Michael.


    Michael''s horns were poking into his hood, stretching it upwards.


    The troll folded his giant, meaty arms and stared at them with his single eye. The horns had made him uncomfortable, however, he kept his composure.


    Meanwhile Arthur and Michael kept silent because they could not signify the language used outside on the board. One wrong move and they both could end up in a tight spot.


    Trolls are known for their herculean strength and contend for a spot in the top 5 amongst all species for brute strength.


    On top of that, IF a troll was smart enough to make use of a species-specific Arcane Art, they were truly a force to be reckoned with.


    That was why even someone as Michael who believed in solving everything via violence and pure strength was being cautious.


    After a few seconds of tense stare down between Michael and the troll, Arthur shifted uncomfortably before placing his hand on the counter and then receding it quietly, leaving behind a Glimmerstone.


    "Lord Cromwell is not very fond of waiting for long durations. I suggest you give us what we want, unless you want to end up like the others." Arthur whispered, keeping his hood low enough to not give away his features at all.


    The translucent and sapphire coin was beautiful and totally stark against the stained surface of the pub counter.


    The dusty brown coloured iris inside the troll''s vertical eye shifted sideways, taking a quick glance at his surroundings before quickly pulling the coin. Quickly he pushed the coin into his pocket before crouching downwards, and retrieving something from underneath the counter.


    After a while of fiddling and throwing things around he took out a silver medallion. It was a sun shaped medallion with even the rays of sun carved out.


    The rays look like sperm. It''s like a kid drew it. They really don''t know what they''re doing. Are they quite behind in the astrology field? Arthur mused to himself.


    The Troll¡ªHagrid, if the lady was not lying about his name¡ªcasted one sidelong glance at the two boys before parting his lips and speaking for the first time. "The Young Lord¡­ Enter ''The Keep''¡­ Free!" And then he slid the Glimmerstone back towards the boys. "Test¡­me? Procedure? This¡­ Young Lord¡­ take this back!" He slipped the Glimmerstone back. "Too much."


    Arthur shifted his head back towards him.


    He couldn''t really tell if it was the Troll''s normal way to talk or it''s just having difficulty talking in the same language as the supposed "Young Lord" of "The Cromwells."


    Michael frowned and pushed the coin back.


    Hagrid somewhat flinched, and then with a covetous rub of his hands and a savouring pass of his lips, he quickly returned the Glimmerstone to his pocket and bowed subtly. "Long Live¡­ King."

 24: The Black Pit of Death - â…¡

    "Long Live¡­ King."


    Michael snorted and then turned around. Michael''s reaction did incite a horrible look on Hagrid''s face.


    Arthur lowered his head in his direction and then he turned around as well.


    Exiting the pub, they immediately left for the main entrance.


    "This isn''t Earth." Arthur hissed.


    "Whatever. Hearing that phrase always makes me laugh." He replied without looking back. "Everyone deserves freedom. Fuck''s wrong with people saying stuff like Long Live blah blah. And they say with their chest too." Michael mocked.


    "How ironic of you to talk about freedom being something that everyone deserves."


    Michael let out another snort. "Want me to laugh?"


    "If you like insults being thrown at you, then be my guest. Laugh all you want." Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes. "Everyone has preferences. I won''t judge."


    "Hah! You think you''re being slick, aren''t ya!"


    "Perhaps." Arthur replied and his head suddenly jerked back as he felt a massive ripple in the sky. But it wasn''t just in the sky.


    Far away, from beyond the dome that separated the two dimensions, a force shook the naturally occurring fields not only on Earth, but its force was felt over in Eden as well and the translucent dome shuddered like the loose window of a car.


    "What''s up?" Michael asked, turning his head around.


    He rarely saw Arthur react so much.


    "I felt my fath¡ª" He paused midway. "¡ªit''s nothing. I just zoned out."


    "It''s only been a few hours since you''ve left your lover girl and you''ve already committed a murder and are now zoning out. Don''t tell me "you" of all the people in the world need a compass to function or you''ll crumble."


    Arthur scoffed through his nose. "I have yet to comprehend the reason why you and Maria- or even the others think we are together." He paused, as if finding the right words. "Your besottedness when it comes to matters related to me is even more baffling. It''s unhealthy, you know-" He gave Michael a sidelong glance as he tried to look towards the weirdly shaped sun.


    "You''re just ignorant." Michael replied. However, his voice lacked the usual scorn and pompousness. "You might understand stuff better than me, but you are ignorant when it comes to yourself." He kept walking, not sparing a glance back at Arthur. "You''re being so defensive. Like chill for a sec there lil'' bro. It''s not that deep. You can just say you are not dating and end it there."


    "Clearing the doubt and leaving no room for the argument to sprout out again is the best course of action. If I do not do it, I am sure you will bring it up numerous times again. And truth be told-" He cranked his neck. "-it''s starting to get on my nerves as well."


    Michael smirked, breaking the scowl that was ever present while talking to Arthur due to the perpetual conflict of interest. "Hmph. All the more reason for me to say it again and again."


    Arthur let out a tired sigh. "You know there are no rules applicable in Eden, right? I can just say a Troll ate you as a casual dinner."


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Michael let out a defiant laugh, his voice turning into a distant echo by the time he spoke. "I''d like to see the day when you can actually do something instead of yapping 24/7." And then in a mocking way, he flicked the few strands away from his face. "Oh apologies. I meant, ''chattering'' 24/7. Jabbering. Palavering. Nattering!"


    "I know what yapping means, Michael. Don''t push it."


    "A day to be remembered." He scoffed once again. "A day where Arthur Olvasen isn''t a killjoy and the creator of awkward moments."


    Arthur sighed once again. I want to go back to Hammerfest!!!!!! He cried internally.


    "Your parents must love you for the foul mouth you have."


    "And your parents must really love you for no particular reason."


    Arthur looked down at his feet, his mood taking a complete turn. His voice turned heavy as I replied. "I suppose so." As he absently stirred the dirt with his shoe, his posture seemed to wilt further. "In their own twisted ways."


    Michael looked over his shoulder, stealing a glance at him before biting back the sardonic remark. "Hmm." He merely hummed to himself and his features softened, any hints of mockery and hate evaporating into this air.


    After a few minutes of silently walking and letting the sun''s heat boil up their skins, the roar of a creature brought them out of their silent, mindless stupor.


    Looking up, both of them saw a creature that looked like a chimaera between an Ostrich and a Lizard. It had the signature legs of the Ostrich in a pale brown colour. Its body stretched long and lean, covered in scales instead of feathers and lacked the vibrant sheen associated with scales in novels and movies, appearing dull and lifeless instead.


    Atop its long neck sat a lizard-like head, complete with sharp slit-eyes and a mouth lined with pointed teeth. Two arms protruded from its body, resembling those of a kangaroo. Overall, it felt more like a chimaera than an actual animal.


    "What on bloody Earth did they do to make this retarded looking¡­I dunno, shit? It''s a big chunk of shit, is what it is. I can''t even describe it!" Michael commented in bewilderment at the creature- or rather, animal of this world.


    "No one asked you to describe it, Young Lord." Arthur remarked sarcastically, the shadow of the pensive cloud that loomed over him a while ago already drifting away.


    As he said that, Arthur raised his arm upward. The two men¡ªone sitting on the chimaera and the other resting his weight against the giant metal door that was bleached off its colour¡ªlooked in their direction, instantly, identifying the medallion.


    The sun shaped medallion with the sun''s rays spreading in every direction.


    The man sitting on the chimaera looked from underneath his brown hood at the two boys and got off his mount. He was almost the same height as both Arthur and Michael. Wearing a tight, brown leather armour, the man had a pale skin that rivalled even Arthur''s. While he was wearing a hood over his head, much of his features were obscured but even the veil of clothing couldn''t completely mask the scarlet red eyes and the straight horns that extended out from the hood without tangling with the cloth.


    Unlike Michael''s which had grooves all around it, the man''s horn was much smaller and much smoother.


    He looked at the two with a lazy glance and then shook his head towards the other man.


    The other man was not wearing the hood.


    He was a rather short man and had a chubby face with slanted crimson eyes and a mix of dirty brown and black hair styled as rough bangs all over his forehead that stopped right over his brows. And right where his hair stopped, two small stubs protruded outwards, barely 2 inches in length.


    "No way this son of a gun has a bowl cut." Michael snickered, trying to maintain the "Young Lord" persona.


    "Is that a bad thing?"


    "Not at all." Michael replied and then turned back with a sneer. "Unless you love getting bullied and thrashed around, that is."


    "Sounds like someone you''d love to pick on." Arthur retorted as the man timidly opened the giant door with a single push of his short arms.


    "Geeks like these should be bullied." He snorted. The frown on his features eased out as the man bowed to him. "Or not. Whatever. It''s fucking ugly."


    Saying that out loud, the two men suddenly jumped and stood to the side. Whether it was due to the fact that they got scared, or heard a language they never heard before, the reason behind their sudden fright was bound to stay hidden.


    As the two boys took their first step inside, a chilling wave washed over them.


    The two of them looked up, just a little, and then turned in a full circle before coming face to face with each other.


    "You can''t be serious."


    "Fuck me....and fuck these peasants."


    The two of them exclaimed.

 25: The Black Pit of Death - â…¢

    ASTRID AALTO:


    It has been 3 days since Arthur went inside the huge dome alongside that snobby brat, Michael.


    It has been quite lonely.


    It took me a few days to come to terms with this. It was a bit hard to accept at first.


    His absence in the last few days had only highlighted the quite worrisome and somewhat¡ªjust teensy bit sweet realisation of how much he has been available for me. Or at least stayed around me. It almost feels like I have lost a functioning limb.


    The lead laden shaky breath I took in only intensified the maelstrom of thoughts in my head as I strode in the streets of Seoul. My work with the dome¡ªFrontier, was done. I had sealed and supplied it with enough Arcanum to not break.


    Arthur had told me it would take two days. However, he also mentioned that it might take longer. No matter what happens, I cannot let the dome expand further. Not until he is done on the other side.


    Because it''s not like I can hold it forever. My capabilities are only subpar. The only reason why it has held so far was because of the divine shimmer holding my Arcane Arts in place.


    I had no idea it was possible to hold something as intangible as a "technique" in a place, however, Gods are real.


    I think nothing else can amaze me now.


    Me- our family were never religious. So, the existence of Gods in an era of science and technological marvel seemed like such an outlandish concept that I never thought that I would be praying to such beings for my own personal success.


    I opened my mouth and took a deep breath.


    Currently we were still inside the zone.


    The zone that the shimmer had engulfed by hovering above it before Arthur went inside.


    Before he went in, the shimmer laid down on the dome and was keeping it from breaking. However, after a few minutes of Arthur going inside, the shimmer expanded once again. However, only this time, instead of taking its previous shape of a slime-lathered cloth, it turned into something much more¡­ firm.


    Like a dome.


    However, instead of being translucent, like the Frontier''s dome, it felt like seeing through a broken magnifying glass. The shimmer had expanded and trapped the few battalions of soldiers as well as me inside the zone that the soldiers started calling "Strife Zone."


    The deadline that Arthur gave me was over. However, the soldiers were not aware of it. They were still waiting for him.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Standing atop the tallest building in this part of the city, I overlooked the whole place.


    The area where Arthur fought the first monster, and then the other where he saved me. The road and the building close by the first encounter were totally flattened and destroyed. While the ones in second place were blown to bits.


    Never in my damned life did I ever think that I would be in the middle of a man vs monster reverse Isekai scenario.


    Arthur has explained a lot of things to me, but still, it''s quite hard to wrap my head around it, damn it!


    I almost died as well. Two times at that!


    And the cherry on top, I was saved by that pretentious playboy, Michael. On that note¡ªsince we are on that topic¡ªis it even humanly possible to be as annoying as him?


    ''Fuuu''


    Deep breaths, Astrid, deep breaths.


    I reminded myself. If Arthur was here, I am sure he would''ve patted my head. Telling me to let go of such quaint, fleeting emotions.


    The anger and irritation all but vanished.


    If only I could go back to the time when me and Arthur used to go to school together. We were even studying for our high school entrance exams that we had to take a year from now.


    A jolt went across my chest, followed by my hair rising on my hands.


    I hope he''s ok. Wherever he is.


    I really miss him, I do. And it''s impacting me more because I never thought I would. Perhaps it was after my parents'' death that I vowed to never get too dependent on anyone.


    And now I am doing it all over again.


    Stupid Astrid!


    I wanted to hit myself, but the thought and my action, both paused as if suspended in time.


    From across the zoomed-in view of the shimmer, I saw Arthur''s father, his hand pressing against the shimmer. I tried to wave my hand in his direction, but it seemed like he could not see me.


    The shimmer was no longer the slimy, viscous thing anymore. It was much more tangible now. And even the tanks could not bypass it.


    I was about to leave the building and run up to him. To tell him about Arthur and how he still has not returned from the other side.


    I was about to leave; however, Arthur''s father withdrew his hand and balled it into a fist. At the same time, a huge congregation of dark clouds swirled overhead, forming a cloudy, thunderous whirlpool in the sky.


    It was only a few seconds but the entire sky was filled with crimson and violet sparks of lightning, followed by the sound of distant thunder.


    The air, even around me, trembled as he swung his arm.


    The following moment a huge column of lightning fell where he had punched the shimmer. The entire world seemed to be engulfed in a white-red light, the shadows extending eerily in every direction.


    I closed my eyes instinctively and covered my ears. Time seemed to lose its meaning. But no matter how much time has passed, the static white in front of my eyes and the constant buzz in my ears persisted.


    I could not see, and my hearing sense was debilitated. Almost.


    However, I could still hear the faint moans and cries of soldiers even up here.


    A pained gasp left my lips as I coughed, the Arcanum coating my body oddly erratic and wobbly, unable to bear even the aftershocks of a punch from Arthur''s father.


    I would''ve admired his strength, however, the admiration morphed into a complex alchemy of spleen, despondence and then transitioned into that of morbid despair.


    If even that couldn''t break through, that means if something goes wrong; we will be trapped here forever.


    I didn''t want to die like this.


    I wanted to see Arthur. Even if I was going to get trapped here, I needed to talk to him. Even for a little bit.


    Gritting my teeth, I wobbled up to my feet.


    Using my hands to sweep the loose hair away from my face and rubbing the bottom of my palm against my eyes to get rid of the static white, I ran down.


    I really need to find Arthur. He needs to know what''s happening here.

 26: The Black Pit of Death - â…£

    Arthur POV


    An hour has passed since we infiltrated "The Keep of Ruin."


    At first both of us thought that Eden''s people just liked keeping their old ways and are using it in tandem with modern technology. And then we thought we were in the past.


    However, it was quite foolish to even assume these two scenarios.


    The hints were always there.


    The foot walk of prisoners and even the man escorting them in such harsh weather instead of using any kind of vehicle, the uneven pathway that was the only way to-and-fro to "The Keep." The people who were all clad in old robes.


    It all should''ve indicated towards the fact that Eden has not progressed much at all. Technologically, it can''t even be compared to Earth.


    And while humans had a natural tendency to develop faster, it still has been millions of years. The amount of progress that they have achieved so far is debilitatingly low. As if they''re still stuck somewhere between Renaissance and Medieval Era.


    It''s uncanny. And it makes my guts churn.


    After entering the main gate, there is a straight path that leads to a huge infrastructure, several kilometres ahead. It was a huge circular, stadium shaped structure with no room for windows. Or any other thing. Just fancily built walls that spanned over a huge area and then closed upwards in a pointed shape.


    A single spire stood tall right by its side and a man was on duty. I tried to keep my Arcanum usage barely minimum, which is why I couldn''t tell much about the man stationed there. However, I could still tell he was an archer since he had a quiver attached to his back.


    The footpath that led to the huge infrastructure was much better than the muddy pathway we had encountered on our way to this place. It was made out of some kind of concrete, obvious cracks visible here and there. However, it was only around 7 feet wide. And the pathway was only made from the entrance towards the huge structure.


    The rest of the houses, shops and other things were made on muddy ground. Their designs were simple, mostly just in cube and rectangular shapes. All of them were single storey, made out of materials that looked like bamboo with a lot of mud over it to protect against the heat.


    Back to the colosseum looking structure, it would seem like that this huge structure holds great importance. Why else would someone go out of their way to make a narrow road right from the entrance.


    The edges of this road or pathway were lined with some kind of powder.


    Crouching down below, I tried to touch it.


    "You bastard there!" A voice called out suddenly. "Don''t touch it. Unless you want to have your hands cut by those damned Imperials."


    Looking up, I saw the man who had spoken. It was a tall man with a long beard and pristine pale skin. His long orange hair was sprawled all over his forehead and a pair of obsidian, knife line horns jutted out of the citrus locks. His pale orange eyes met mine for a fleeting second as he waved his hand.


    "Get your act together, boy. Don''t get killed when you just arrived."


    Saying those words he turned around.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "What the fuck are you doing?" Michael asked from behind me.


    He was still using the appearance changing artefact, although his horns shape had changed. There were now just two small stubs instead of the long, regal looking ones. His horns were indeed attracting a lot of attention.


    We were impersonating as someone from the Cromwells. A ruling demon family. It fooled the trolls and the guards, but the closer we got to the base of operations, the harder it would be to keep up this fiasco. It was better to pose as an ordinary demon and his servant than as a Cromwell.


    We don''t know much about Demons, however, from the available evidence and how people were reacting to Michael, it would seem like the type of horns determine the hierarchy amongst Demons. But that is not what''s important right now.


    "There is something really wrong going on." I replied to his question, not leaving the pure white powder that was sprinkled all along the pathway.


    "Yeah, no shit." He snuffled and then shifted underneath his robe. "It''s hot as fuck."


    "Yeah, no shit." I copied him. "We are literally in a hot desert. It would''ve been strange if it wasn''t hot." Pausing for a brief second and enjoying the small moment of victory in the verbal back-and-forth, I spoke once again. "As for the thing I said before¡­ it definitely had a much bigger involvement."


    "Hot desert. Hah. No need to specify."


    There are cold deserts as well...well, nevermind.


    He stood by my side and then tilted forward, taking a peek in at the powdered trail alongside the pathway.


    "Looks like just another white mark over a road."


    "It''s not even a mark." I argued back. Perhaps it was just my intuition, but it seemed really suspicious. "It looks more like a guiding path¡­" I felt my voice fade away, carried away by the skin burning gust of wind. "¡­but for what?"


    "You''re just overthinking it." Michael waved his hand. "You told your girl you''ll be back in two days, eh?"


    "Mhmm." I hummed back at him, looking around myself.


    The air was abuzz with the resonant cacophony of weapons being forged and was saturated with the metallic aroma of freshly crafted weapons, their distinctive tang mingling with the rich, heady scent of molten metal.


    "Then you better hurry. It''s about to be nighttime soon."


    I peeled my eyes away from the pathway. "We still need to gather some intel."


    "I''ll be heading to the pub then." Michael just said that and turned around.


    Extending my hand and holding him by the back of his robe, I stopped him. "We don''t have time to drink."


    "You don''t." He smirked, "I am gonna taste the booze here. Ain''t no law here to stop me, MUAHAHA!"


    Cackling out loud, he broke free of my hold and crossed the pathway, heading straight for the pub, leaving me all alone and my hand suspended in midair.


    Biting back the urge to stab him several times and spill his guts all over the ground, I turned around as well.


    The other things can wait. I have to know about the colosseum and the weird powder.


    Turning on my heel, I faced towards the huge area that was a congregation of weaponries of different kinds. Some were forging swords, some spears and some daggers.


    Letting out a deep breath, I started to move as fast as I could while drawing minimal attention.


    My heart fluttered excitedly inside my chest as I reached for the bare minimum of the Arcanum necessary to cast my SONAR spell. It wasn''t either a complicated spell, nor a strong offensive one. It was just a steady outflux and influx of a specific frequency of sound waves.


    The new, purified form of Arcanum which I had absorbed after coming to Eden, condensed and then burst like a firework, spreading like a tidal wave all over the place. The steady wave was interrupted by tangible objects as I took in the information about everything.


    The shape of the buildings, people, weapons. People with different physiologies. I could feel it all. It was a much different sensation than the basic five senses I was used to. There was no sensory input. Just a steady stream of information bombarding my mind.


    A constant bombardment, and yet it wasn''t an unpleasant experience.


    It had always been like this.


    Whenever I use this and feel it all hit me at once, it ignites an exhilarating rush, an intoxicating high that I can''t just get quite enough of. A high obtained by expanding my senses that surpassed that of a mortal. There is an unknown thrill in knowing that I am privy to information beyond the grasp of ordinary minds.


    Now that we had already infiltrated the place and barely had 24 hours, I could not be too cautious.


    Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.


    I almost jumped out of the way as the air crackled with authority. "Don''t slack now, you dimwits."


    Taking a sharp, screeching turn as my feet dug into the muddy ground, I hid behind the back-wall of a forgery making swords. Peeking subtly from the side, I saw a man standing on a bucket.

 27: The Black Pit of Death - â…¤

    I almost jumped out of the way as the air crackled with authority. "Don''t slack now, you dimwits."


    Taking a sharp, screeching turn as my feet dug into the muddy ground, I hid behind the back-wall of a forgery making swords. Peeking subtly from the side, I saw a man standing on a bucket.


    Loose long hair that reached up to his middle back and a pair of slit violet eyes. And while that wasn''t a feature that was uncommon, the two sharp horns with grooves that bent upward after extending down from his temples was what made him stand out the most. The same horns that Michael had imagined atop his head.


    Just with a different orientation.


    He looked here and there, a frown adorning his face like a permanent part of it. Even when it eased out for a fleeting moment, the deep creases formed on his face gave him the look of a perpetually angry and sour man. He almost smiled and I followed his line of sight, however, the frown returned back to his face as soon as the cloaked man removed his hood.


    "Sire, Good Evening, sire." A short, chubby man greeted, getting on both of his knees. From his messy, curly hair to his dirty clothes, long beard to the round- almost square chubby body screamed that he was a Dwarf.


    The man looked down at him with an unhidden disdain. "What is it, Brogan? It better not be idle chatter."


    His voice was commanding, albeit not as condescending as one would think of based on first impressions. "I am already in a bad mood because of that old bat wandering off without telling me."


    "Of course, Sire Ed. It''s about your weapon." He rose up to his feet and nervously and somewhat excitedly rubbed his hands together.


    "Fine. Just know that if its enchantment is still not complete, I will have your head on the spike and have it thrown to the Wujins for wasting my precious time."


    The dwarf shivered visibly and shrunk back, his already small stature looking even more miniscule now. Even the extremely broad shoulders didn''t help the fact that he had caved his body in, as if trying to appear as small as he could.


    "Of course, sire... I would never waste your time."


    Saying that, he started to walk towards the decently sized rectangular workshop. It didn''t have any doors or covers to hide the people working inside. The hearth was aflame in the middle of it and the flames and molten metal drowned the entire workplace in a colourful mix of golden and orange in the progressively darkening place.


    As they walked side-by-side, I sneakily walked behind them and started running once again. It was getting dark. Before Michael gets too drunk and starts to blow our cover, I need to at least know what the deal with the colosseum is.


    Weaving past another dwarf that was carrying two pints in his hands, I dodged bumping into him as he muttered a string of curses. I casted one sidelong look at him before running again.


    I got hold of my Arcanum and maintained the bare minimum of my attention towards running. Expanding the scale of my senses, I focused on finding anyone who might have a potent Arcanum signature. My speed slowed, however, once again I felt like I was drifting over everyone.


    However, unlike Earth¡­this was breathtaking.


    The way Arcanum gathered and swirled in the air, painting the dull canvas of this world with the beautiful- breathtaking colours was so, so beautiful. I took in the sight of the huge dots of Arcanum- which were the people carrying it- one by one, probing for the biggest one of them.


    I spotted one, just behind me. The place I had left a while ago. It must belong to the man who the Dwarf referred to as Sire. Another Arcanum signature blipped brightly. It shone like a star whose brilliance couldn''t be snuffed out even by the unimaginable distance.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Michael, I noticed. It was him.


    Even though from the stillness of his Arcanum signature I could tell that he was not in any kind of skirmish, it still blossomed like a flower in spring bloom. Quality and quantity, he was superior to me in both those aspects.


    It was enviable.


    Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused on the area that was still unexplored. Varying frequencies of waves also washed out of me and flooded over the entire "Keep," as I once again took in everything.


    Most of the people were now trickling out of the forges and started gravitating toward the few spots designated for socialising. Probably the local watering holes¡ªpubs¡ªand...


    "Ahnnn~"


    Ahem... establishments of a more intimate nature.


    Yes, it would seem like brothels managed to make their way into a place like this as well. It was a surprise honestly. Since other races can''t copulate that much. I guess they changed after so long.


    The same moan blasted in my ears once again, this time extended and more erotic, full of lust.


    I cringed, quickly releasing the dominion over the information pouring from that part of this small town-like place.


    It was a real buzzkill. The same heightened senses that made me feel like a transcended being ended, causing a real pain in the¡­ neck.


    Oh, how I wished I could just unsee and unhear what I''d stumbled upon.


    But hey, what could I have done? Just gotta roll with it, I guess.


    As my heightened senses returned back to normal, I looked around myself. I had already reached the towering spire that was a few yards away from the colosseum.


    I dispelled every last hint of Arcanum augmenting my body and then sealed off the primary node, not letting a single drop of Arcanum leak out. With my back against the base of the spire, I tried to walk right underneath the guard''s nose that was stationed right above me, on the observatory of the spire.


    As I took a step forward, an arrow whistled past my ear.


    "You there, halt!"


    Oh well¡­


    As the man jumped from around 50 feet, I let my Arcanum burst out wildly as well. Extending my hand towards him, I took a hold of the arrow inside his quiver. The arrow jolted, shaking for a while before dislodging itself from the quiver''s lock and flew right into my hand.


    As the man landed with a barely perceptible sound, I swivelled around and barely held his neck in a chokehold with my right arm. His shoulders were broad enough to make me barely able to hold him in place.


    A dwarf.


    His elbow drove into my exposed left, crashing against the ribs with an overwhelming intensity as the Arcanum was still in the process of flowing seamlessly after the primary node was sealed.


    I held the arrow tight in my hand and Arcanum pulsed like blood flowing through it. Swinging it in a straight line, I attacked his neck. However, his wide hand covered in leather caught a hold of it, stopping it midway.


    And then, the ground beneath ripped itself apart making me lose my hold over the man.


    Something akin to a dark cyclone jumped upwards from the fissure into the ground, followed by tens, if not hundreds of needle-thin black spikes.


    I swung my arm as fast as I could, using the arrow as a rapier.


    A few needles lodged themselves into my flesh and pinned the robes fabric right over the bleeding wound.


    As I looked up, I saw another dwarf with a huge mace in one hand and the other resting over the one before, patting him.


    "You good, Birta?"


    "Yes, Gunnar."


    They exchanged quick pleasantries as I yanked the spikes out of my skin. The wet and warm sensation of blood flowing out lingered only for a fleeting few seconds before vanishing as Arcanum started to do what little healing it could.


    Since my Arcanum didn''t have healing properties, it could not heal me. At least not like how Astrid''s Arcane Arts can.


    It was quite dark now and I couldn''t exactly catch their features over the rush of adrenaline in my veins, however, going by the names'' basis and the slight difference in their voices'' pitch, one of them was a woman. The one I had caught and tried to kill before.


    The one called Gunnar flicked his head in my direction. "Not only were you trespassing into ''The Black Pit of Death,'' you just tried to kill the guard as well." He spoke in a much calmer way. "Even if you are a demon, this treason warrants immediate death."


    It was not the words that made me jump in subtle fright but the thing that he conjured out of thin air. Another mace with streaks of orange running all along it pulsed into the progressively increasing dark of the night fell into his hand after appearing from a flash of white.


    That wasn''t any Arcane Art. This is new.


    I had never heard of weapons appearing out of thin air.


    Maybe they did advance. Just not in the way we did, but rather in a magical way. That would make much more sense.


    Lowering my stance, I pointed the tip of my arrow towards the dwarves.


    "Filthy demon."


    The corner of my lips curved into a smirk as I pulled my hood back and shook my head backwards, removing the locks of hair that had stuck to my face due to the constant precipitation.


    "Oh, I am not a demon." I mocked. "I am something far filthier."


    The light of Gunnar''s mace pulsating illuminated his features for a brief second revealing a single braid of red hair resting on left shoulder and a chest length red beard.


    His black eyes were wide, as if suspended in a constant state of shock before shakily murmuring.


    "A¡­human"

 28: The Black Pit of Death - â…¥

    "A¡­human"


    "You people are so racist. Its sad at this point. Not to mention oddly obnoxious."


    Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but I could oddly feel my lips curve into a smirk time and time again. Or perhaps, it was just some sort of twisted satisfaction seeing the flabbergasted expressions on their faces. The expressions that they''d take to their grave.


    Taking a step to the right, I brought my arrow up and caught a blurring strike of the aglow mace as it struck down, the movement so fast I only saw the big, ugly man holding it after our weapons had already collided.


    My feet dug into the muddy ground and Gunnar immediately jumped back. My senses flared outwards and I dove to the side, avoiding a barrage of arrows from Birta that followed each other in such quick succession that the arrows seemed more like a single spear than tens of arrows flying at blinding speed.


    "How dare you sully our land with your pathetic and dirty presence!" His voice came out in a low growl.


    If the colosseum¡ªBlack Pit of Death¡ªwas so important that trespassing guarantees death, then why were there only two people stationed here. It wouldn''t make sense, unless¡­


    Bringing my arm up, I caught the mace hurtling down at me like a meteor from the sky. The surface of the mace was scalding hot, and my skin immediately blistered even underneath the layer of Arcanum.


    How interesting.


    Removing my hand from the weapon and letting it crash into the ground, I turned around and once again stabbed at his neck. However, this one was a feint. As soon as he brought his hand up to get a hold of my hand, I slightly nudged the arrow into his grip and then held him by his long beard.


    Pulling it towards myself, I kicked him in the face. The impact of the kick sent a shockwave in every direction and I saw a torch getting snuffed out in the near distance.


    I need to end this quickly. However, his weapon was too intriguing to not understand even more.


    Pulling him by his beard once again, I punched him right into his jaw. The sickening crack was followed instantly by a flick of his wrist as a dozen more needle-thin spikes rained down from above me.


    I kicked towards his gut but he blocked with his mace and then pushed me back.


    At the same time Birta launched another barrage of arrows at me.


    I looked in her direction and immediately understood.


    She was using a [Skill] of some sorts.


    Skills were different from Arcane Arts.


    Anyone could have or develop a Skill, unlike Arcane Arts which were both rare and difficult to control.


    A Skill was a sequence. Like a code in a machine. It helped someone execute a sequence of events in a systematic manner with varying range and power. However, it was a tight mould. In terms of raw strength, if poured with enough Arcanum, it could rival an Arcane Art.


    However, the one flaw it had was that unlike Arcane Arts, Skills were inflexible. If there is a sequence, the Skill has an obligation to complete the procedure before executing the action.


    And from the looks of it, Birta can rapidly fire around 50 or so arrows before going on a 30 seconds cooldown.


    And now that she has just fired it¡­


    I lunged at Gunnar. His mace swung over his head and then hurtled down at me. Using my arm to absorb half of the impact and redirecting it towards the ground, I kicked his mace further into the muddy flooring.


    Without wasting a second, I jumped at Birta like a wild predator. The tips of her own arrows swirled upwards and converged towards me, forming long claws over my fingers.


    Slashing in one swift motion, I clawed at her face, carving four lines deep into it. Her left eyes ruptured and then spurted outwards, followed by the clean incision into her nose and lower lip. Stepping to the left, I let Gunnar''s mace crush what was left of Birta''s mutilated face as her entire body was smashed into the ground with a huge crunch, followed by an undulating tremor throughout the ground.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The claws over my fingers configured into a small blade as I pushed it into Gunnar''s throat. The shock of seeing Birta''s body squashed into a pulp had rendered him unable to move as he fell to his knees.


    I grabbed a hold of his hair and crouched down. "Using your body weight to pivot your hefty mace is a good idea." Giving him a slight consolatory tap on his shoulder, I continued. "But it''s useless against an opponent who''s faster than you."


    Taking the small dagger out of his pocket, I slit his throat open before pushing his body backwards. His broad frame fell like a tree, causing dirt to jump up.


    Taking a deep breath, I pulled my hood up once again and started running towards the black pit of death. Although I was curious about his weapon, extending the fight or staying back to study his weapon was a big loss for me. The commotion would definitely attract more people. I need to get out of this place as a whole before that happens.


    A small flash of orange light blipped behind me. I casted a look back and saw the mace shatter into a few fragments alongside Gunnar''s corpse.


    Peeling my eyes away from it, I increased my speed.


    What a waste of a good weapon. If only I had enough time to spare, I could''ve discerned what the spike spell and the weapon was about.


    But alas, fate is a very cruel thing.


    Weaving around a sharp corner, I arrived in front of the Black Pit. I looked around but there was no door. The solid pathway that led to this place ended into a wall. A dead end. I looked back and saw a few people with huge torches in their hands, walking on the pathway and their synchronised steps causing an eerie echo.


    They were already coming here.


    Of course they were.


    Those dwarves were using such high Arcanum amounts in their fight. They not only relayed the location, but also the fact that something was wrong. Since guards would only fight if someone tried to enter the Black Pit and refused to step back.


    Using the dagger I had stolen from Gunnar; I threw it upwards. With as much force as I could. Creating an artificial magnetic field around my hand, I propelled myself upwards. However, there was one slight problem.


    The mass of this dagger was barely 1 kilogram so it was easy to make it accelerate towards a certain velocity. However, I needed an initial propulsion of around 20 metres per second to even hope of getting somewhere close to the top of this structure.


    But that wasn''t the hard part. The hard part was the fact that there was a huge difference in our mass. I was around 86 times heavier than this dagger. I couldn''t exert too much force using the magnetic field since it would break the dagger due to multiple resisting factors.


    The only thing I could do here was to continuously repeat a rigorous set of motion.


    Before I knew it, instead of propelling upwards the dagger was flying back to me. Catching it with the other hand, I threw it upwards once again and extended my right hand.


    It was like pulling myself via a rope. The dagger was a moving rope. However, it could only hold for so long. The time taken by our combined momentum to equalise before the difference in mass started to catch up was around 0.7 seconds.


    That means¡­


    The dagger almost zipped past me, escaping my clutches. Catching it just barely, I threw it with all my force upwards once again.


    The only way to overcome this small-time frame was more force. The more force I exerted, the more time it would take for the momentum to equalise and break my ascent.


    I could just lodge it into the highest point but again, the material of this dagger is not 100% metal. Only the blade is. And the wall doesn''t seem so thick. It will dislodge from it. And stabbing the wall again and again would alert people and give out my location.


    Repeating the process a few more times, I increased the output of my strength. And when it felt like I couldn''t do it anymore, I augment my arm with more Arcanum.


    With one final throw, the dagger lodged itself into the topmost area of the structure. Using one final, powerful tug, I pulled myself upwards. Catching the handle of the lodged dagger, I barely held on for my dear life.


    Throwing one leg over the oval top, I tried to gain footing. After a few fleeting seconds of pure, strenuous struggle, I finally stood atop the Black Pit.


    The top from afar looked like a close dome, however, there were empty spaces between the dome like structure that allowed me to look down. Placing my foot over the edge, just before the first gap, I peeked downwards.


    My heart almost jumped out my chest in fright, as I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, pressed my palms against my eyes and then opened them once again.


    Inside the spacious colosseum structure was a giant swirling whirlpool of Wujins, encircling around each other hungrily. The low rumble of their snarls made my entire body shudder and the magnetic field around my arm that strapped that blade to my hand loosened, making it fall down and produce a dull clatter.


    It wasn''t a colosseum. It was made out to look like one. Instead, it was just a giant wall with ? of the dome structure made to fool perception.


    A 2D colosseum that was actually a 3D wall. And on the other side were hundreds of thousands of Wujins. I took an instinctive step back, my eyes blinking so rapidly that they could barely register any detail in the murky dark ambiance.


    My eyes flicked to the other side. There were some men, around 50 metres above the whirlpool of Wujins where they were encircling around something. Or someone. The men were pushing people in robes downwards. As they pushed each robed person down, the echo of their desperate cry transitioned into a mess of wild snarls, muscle tearing and bone breaking.


    And one after another, the same process happened without change, until all that was left was a harrowing silence and a sense of emptiness.


    It all made sense now.


    They are planning to use the Wujins as the first weapon against humanity. Just like how we were gathering intel, they were going to use these creatures as a measuring net to probe for our strengths and weaknesses and then retaliate with proper precautions while knowing everything about us.


    I took another step back. Looking down, I saw a squadron of people reach the place where I had killed Gunnar and Birta.


    Grabbing the dagger tightly into my hand, I looked back.


    I need to get Michael and return back to Earth.

 29: Such fickle beings...

    3rd person POV:


    While the after effects of Aksel Olvasen pummelling his fist into the shimmer still hadn''t subsided, Astrid was running towards the Frontier''s entrance.


    With half-breaths, she gasped in pain over the static lingering in her ears, making her head pound in tandem with her rapidly beating heart. Like a hammer constantly beating on an anvil, her mind was almost scattered with thoughts and worry.


    ''Arthur¡­'' She repeated his name in her mind, over and over again.


    As she reached the entrance, she placed her hands on the Frontier and started chanting.


    However, a layer of shimmer enveloped the entrance and then with a small explosion blasted her back.


    The skin over her palms burnt and the smell of flesh melting infiltrated a second after the burning sensation invaded her.


    "Ugh---ahhh¡­" She whimpered, coiling into a ball as she held her hands against her chest, reeling on the ground. The shimmer concentrated around the entrance and then another deafening screech resounded over the entire city, followed by a crack that splintered the sky into half. Another flash of lightning blinded everyone and the soldiers started to fall to their knees, wincing and groaning in pain.


    The shimmer thinned around the entrance and then augmented the part covering the city once again. As if confused about what to do.


    A thin stream of white spilled like holy water from her palms and painfully, the skin started to mend itself.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    As the pristine skin started to regrow over the charred and exposed muscle of her hand, she limped over to the shimmer once again.


    This time, instead of chanting, she just channelled her Arcanum''s unique property into it.


    Astrid Aalto''s Arcane Art revolved around "Sealing."


    She could seal and unseal almost anything. However, it was directly correlated to her understanding of the object she was about to apply it to. If she knew about her skin''s nature, she was able to seal the injuries away completely.


    The chants she recited were necessary for situations where she was blank about the object.


    And now that she understood what the purpose of the Frontier and Shimmer exactly was, she placed her blood red hands on the Frontier once again. Instead of pulling it all apart and creating a giant gash into it, she pressed her body against it.


    The dome rippled outwards, one after another, like the rings that form when a pebble is dropped into a still pool. They moved quickly at first, then slowed down as they travelled further from the centre.


    Her image on the semi-transparent surface covered both by Frontier''s dome and the bubbly Shimmer garbled.


    As the ripples bumped into each other at the far end of the dome, they retracted back suddenly. A semi-viscous mirror-like surface formed on the dome and the next moment it sucked her in.


    The disturbance vanished and shimmer reduced its protection from guarding the dome.


    Outside the shimmer, Aksel Olvasen looked up at the crack in the shimmer and smiled to himself.


    "Well, well. The Gods really are such fickle beings." He spoke to himself. "Should''ve at least put in a mechanism to recognise their own worshippers." As if finding it very amusing, he chuckled to himself and lightly tapped on the charred surface where he had punched a few times. "I hope this serves as a purpose for what I wanted. Pretty sure Arthur left that girl outside so she can relay changes inside to him if things get worse."


    Turning on his heel, he moved back and sat on the hood of his car as a police helicopter whirred overhead.


    "Hope he gets out before Sif leaves the house though." Mumbling to himself, he held a cigarette to his lips and looked at the sky with half-open eyes. "I will be depending on you to inform him, girl."


    He paused and the image of Arthur''s childhood flashed in his mind, making him shudder. He shrugged the memory away, burying it back down. "Just return alive, my son. I will handle the rest."

 30: Conflict of Interest - â… 

    Arthur Olvasen POV:


    The bottom lurched out of my stomach as I took a sharp turn, drowning out the sound of clamouring soldiers right behind me and the grating sound of their unsheathed weapons as it struck the walls, barrels and stray boxes while following me.


    Snuffing out even the miniscule embers of animosity and blocking out every last drop of Arcanum flowing through or spilling out of my body, I tried to lose the men that had spotted me atop the "Black Pit," and were now chasing me after discovering Birta and Gunnar''s corpses.


    "Alert General Ed. A human has infiltrated The Keep." A Dwarf with two small axes in each hand barked orders at the bald Troll right behind him and then looked at the couple dozen lanky Dwarves-each carrying a knife, "And you lot, go into Lord Cromwell''s chambers. Alert him as well."


    "Gotcha chief!" The band of juvenile Dwarves all roared in tandem before breaking off from the group and running away.


    "You, you and you, come with me." He pointed at the three Demons that were standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.


    "We don''t take orders from a filthy mutt." The demon with jet black hair and a pair of goat-like horns replied with a defiant smirk. "Don''t think just because you refined General Ed''s Nightcrackle, you can order us around." Crouching down to his eye level, he seethed. "You''re a Dwarf. Act like one."


    It was only when he mentioned the General''s name again and the weapon refinement was when a few things clicked.


    The Dwarf ¡ª who was referring to the other man as sire a few hours ago ¡ª was also named Ed. And Ed was also the name of the old woman''s son that was about to be executed.


    But what was more important was what Ed said to the Dwarf¡ªBrogan.


    ''I am already in a bad mood because of that old bat wandering off without telling me.''


    That means the old woman was related to Ed and in extension, lying. But why would she pose like that? Like a vulnerable old woman.


    What was her purpose?


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I expelled those troubling intrusive thoughts with a shake of my head, trying to not feel their weight press down on me. Leaning wearily against the wall, I pressed my back into its cool and damp surface, my muscles tense due to the effort of tightly holding my breath.


    The small pack of Demons walked right past as I slid further into the shadow. I didn''t have much idea about their capabilities. And fighting them in packs was even more dangerous than just taking on them one by one.


    As the Dwarf pivoted his weight backwards before taking off, I let out a heavy, shaky breath before running again.


    I tried to be as discreet as humanly possible, making as little noise as I could.


    Prudently measuring my steps, I navigated the labyrinthine maze of shops and houses. Before long, I was already at the place where I had left Michael.


    Bolting towards the door of the pub, I pushed the double doors open.


    The left door got out of its hinge and dangled to the side. As I stepped in, I felt my eyes go wide and my lips curve into a deep frown.


    The entirety of the pub had circled around Michael as he was standing there without his robe.


    His horns stood long and proud, starting from his temples. His white shirt''s buttons were undone, revealing half of his chest and his sleeves were pulled up to his elbows.


    My entrance brought a sudden halt to the wild cheering and every head was now turned in my direction.


    Michael was standing with a wide grin over his face, his golden eyes plastered as he wobbled. His hand was a bloody mess, dripping with a mix of red and blue viscous liquid as he stood atop a Troll''s limp, gargantuan body, his one foot over its chest and the other over its face.


    He looked in my direction and then extended his arms sideways, standing in a rather weird posture with his upper body bent backwards.


    "Bet on me, *hic* fuckface!"


    I didn''t want to but still facepalmed.


    This guy actually participated in a bare-knuckle back-street betting in an enemy territory.


    I have conflicted feelings about this.


    Should I be angry, or should I be in awe? I can''t tell. But it would be an understatement that I am surprised by his lack of tact.


    "Come on, Michael. It''s time for bed." I spoke in an informal way, acting as he was my friend. "I am sorry but I have to take my friend back. We have to work early in the morning." Running in his direction and grabbing him by his shoulder, I got close to his ear. "We have to run away. They are after us."


    As he was about to retort, a man called out. "Stop right there." He spoke, cutting through the crowd of people. My hand instinctively tensed, ready to reach out for the dagger underneath my shirt. He stood face to face with me, looking at my face with narrowed eyes. "Where is your appearance changing artefact?"


    Oh no¡­ I don''t have my hood on.


    I placed my hand over my pants pocket. "Right here."


    He withdrew his dagger and pointed the tip towards my neck. "Don''t move. Let go of the Demon boy."


    I removed my hand from Michael and raised them in a placating manner. He took a step towards me and slipped his hand inside my pocket. The Dwarf''s thick hand twisted inside and then his wide brown eyes looked over to me in a quick, fleeting moment of sheer disbelief and horror. "Huma--"

 31: Conflict of Interest - â…¡

    "Huma--"


    Before he could finish his sentence, my dagger''s tip sunk deep into the side of his neck. His muscles were so dense that the dagger didn''t even make it to the other end.


    The entire pub was suddenly enshrouded in a veil of silence. No one moved. No one talked. As if caught in a collective moment that was a mix of disbelief, rage, grief and subtle hints of disoriented revulsion. And the alchemy of emotions manifested tangibly as the sound of swords leaving their scabbards and axes and maces and spears¡ª weapons of every kind were suddenly drawn.


    Michael looked at them and then at me. "Oh, we''re fucked out of our mind."


    "We?" The orange haired Dwarf that had warned me to not touch the powder at the side of the pavement asked in a rather stunned disbelief.


    Smirking, Michael''s fist crunched into his face and his features undulated sideways, totally making it unrecognisable for a second before his entire body caught up to it and he was sent flying into the nearby wall.


    And then, all hell broke loose.


    Arcanum flared outwards out of everybody as the Demon girls serving pints screamed and ran inside.


    Michael deactivated his horns and then picked up a pint, bringing it close to his lips.


    "Can you at least stop drinking at such a time?"


    My words would have barely reached him as I took a step back and a sword whooshed past my face, narrowly grazing the area underneath my eye. Letting the momentum carry the stub-horned demon forward, I flicked the table upwards and kicked it towards the incoming horde of Dwarves, Demons and the three Trolls.


    Although it was enough to block the sudden wave of people attacking me, the Trolls bulldozed through their own companions, their single eyes looking down at me with a feral intensity. The one in the lead swung its arm as I rolled down the strike on the floor and dodged it.


    While I was on the ground, I threw my dagger upwards and then kicked the arm of the demon that had swung at me a while ago.


    Conveniently enough, the sword left his grip and fell on the ground. The Troll stomped down at the place where I was laying down. Pulling the sword towards myself, I grabbed it with both my hands. The sharp edge of the sword dug deep into its foot.


    The urge to throw up infiltrated me as the demon standing kneed into my middle section, causing me to wince in pain. Twisting the sword in the Troll''s foot, I extended my right arm and pulled the dagger back that I had thrown a while ago. The dagger''s tip sunk into the demon''s skull as he fell like a lifeless sack over me.


    Pushing his light body aside, I quickly stood up to my feet and then immediately crouched down.


    The mountain-like body of another Troll flew right over before crashing into the loose door behind. The walls cracked and a spiderweb of cracks ran all along from the point of impact until it reached the roof and the entire pub caved inwards.


    Looking back, I saw Michael standing with a wide grin.


    "Another one bites the dust! WOOOO!"


    Although he was getting hit, none of them were life threatening. The drunk frenzy he was currently in was doing him more harm than good but there was no need for me to intervene.


    Pressing my foot over the Troll''s neck that had his feet stabbed, I stabbed the right side of his chest.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Trolls had their heart on the right side after all.


    Lightning coursed from my hand and through the dagger, illuminating its chest from inside in an eerie azure glow as his body twitched once and then a streak of lightning cut outwards from his chest, totally puncturing his heart and the primary node.


    Two more demons ran in my direction.Throwing my dagger towards the cracked roof, it lodged itself into one of the many splinters.


    [Ferrum Field]


    The dagger magnetised instantly as I poured enough Arcanum to blow a hole through even the walls of "The Keep of Ruin".


    The expression of pure horror and surprise as their weapons were forcefully stripped out of their hands lasted only for a second before I dashed and jumped upwards as I caught a sword that was stripped out of the hands of a demon who was fighting Michael and slashed at them using the same sword.


    A thick spurt of blood sprayed in every direction as they clutched at their throats desperately, trying to block the blood flowing like a fountain.


    Michael jumped upwards and jabbed at the back of a dwarf''s head and then proceeded to kick the third Troll into his pelvic region. As it jumped around in pain, he hit the back of his head with the scabbard of a sword. The Troll''s eyes rolled to the back of his head and foam rose up to his mouth before falling to the ground with a loud thud that made the already wrecked roof almost fall off.


    "You should kill them." I spoke, the silence that followed the defeat of people oddly satisfying.


    "I won''t." He spoke by bringing his face close to mine. His breath reeked of Alcohol and his eyes¡ªalthough mostly unfocused¡ªwere looking right into my own, as if I had said the most immoral and disgusting thing.


    It honestly baffled me.


    "You realise when they wake up, they will come after you. And would have even more motivation to explicitly have your head on a spike."


    He smirked. "They can try as many times as they can, the result would never change." As he said, he walked past me.


    Casting one last look back and heaving out a sigh, I followed after him.


    I hate my decision. Or rather complying with his decision. However, I''d rather have him by my side than him being an enemy. I was not asinine enough to be unable to weigh the merits and demerits of my own actions.


    As I walked out of the semi-collapsed pub, I was expecting to meet a huge horde of people ready to chant stuff like "Burn the witch!" or in this instance, "Burn the humans!" but instead what I was met with was an utter lack of people.


    Or lack of the immediate presence of people. They were present, lurking behind the stretched, long shadow of a lone man standing- towering over Michael. The hate, spite and disgust in their eyes was almost palpable, threatening to take over.


    The man whose shadow extended eerily back had long, waist length midnight grey hair and a pair of slit amethyst eyes that contrasted well with his hair.


    His hands were clasped behind his back and his face carried a rather welcoming smile.


    A golden chainmail decorated his shoulders and middle chest, protecting it. Now that I was looking at it from up-close; I could feel the subtle hum of Arcanum imbued inside it.


    The numerous medals adorning his chest were absent and he was wearing a much more informal attire, or at least it seemed so in comparison to the previous flashy one.


    He was wearing a light brown doublet fastened together with rows of leather laces. Its collar stood tall, padded and regal, framing his face with authority. Tailored seams made it look like a snug fit, accentuating his muscular frame.


    He cocked his head to the side and then let his arms dangle freely to the side. His dark amethyst eyes flicked up and down curiously and then he clasped his hands in front of himself.


    "I must say, I am quite disappointed." His baritone held authority without arrogance, lacking the chill of condescension. "You are¡­ pardon my words but really, hmm, how do I put it?" He tilted his head to the other side, his tongue making moving-bumps on his cheek from the inside of his mouth, as he was tangibly trying to roll the correct words to manifest on his tongue. "For the lack of better words, Mundane." He finished.


    "Uh, thank you?"


    It was the only thing I could think of as a sarcastic answer, however, the derision only seemed to backfire due to the stillness that plagued the whole place like a graveyard. His amused eyes looked at me from up to down and then he gave me a shallow, mock bow.


    "You''re welcome."


    A smirk crept up his face.


    "Well putting that aside, may I know to what do I- or rather we owe the pleasure of your visit? I am sure you have not graced us with your presence to provide recompense for the apples Adam and Eve stole before scurrying away like mice with tails tucked between their legs to avoid starvation. Starvation on an unknown land stolen from us by the Heretic Gods."


    It was quite obvious what he was doing and every word that came out of his mouth was laced with deadly poison.


    However, his voice made it seem like it was all a fiasco and he didn''t mean any of it.


    A wave of laughter erupted and washed over the entire place.

 32: Conflict of Interest - â…¢

    A wave of laughter erupted and washed over the entire place.


    I felt Michael tense right to my left, standing two steps ahead of me.


    "Compensation for apples could''ve been one way to greet the neighbours after millions of years." I tried to play along. Pulling the bare minimum of what was required to cause a small detonation using Arcanum, I let it flow subtly and condense right atop my hand that was tucked behind my back.


    He scoffed, as if he had heard a joke. "I did hear humans have a good sense of humour." The smile narrowed. "You seem to not have inherited it."


    Hmmm. I wasn''t joking though?


    "Oh, my parents are real bores." I shrugged my shoulders, the small sphere of Arcanum that was no bigger than a candy condensing atop my palm.


    Michael looked at me from the corner of my eye. His hands were balled into fists and there was impatience in his eyes.


    "Ouch." He let out a hearty chuckle. If not for the people standing in shadows with murderous intents and battle-ready sheens around them, it could''ve been considered a very wholesome conversation between Humans and Aliens. "Your friend seems to have really enjoyed our delicacy here."


    "Oh, he has." I agreed wholeheartedly.


    He nodded his head a few times. The light in his eyes and the smile on his face all but vanished as the wind caused a few locks to hug his face. From behind the grey locks, his eyes narrowed and a frown formed on his face. "Did you encounter a woman while sneaking into this place?"


    Michael shuddered.


    "Old woman. Purple hair. Stubs for horns." I recalled. "Her son named Ed was about to get executed here."


    He gripped the bridge of his nose and looked at the sky. "Urgh, you damned old bat." He cursed, but there was a degree of adoration to it. Without a change in his voice, he spoke again. "I am assuming she''s dead."


    "Yep."


    A brief moment of silence ensued. Like the calm before a storm. He let out a heavy, dejected sigh.


    "Always told that woman to not do things she isn''t capable of." He pressed his thumb into his right palm and rubbed it against the surface. Slow and gentle at first, but the rubbing intensified with each, awkwardly passing second. "Commoners. All of them have the same mentality. To prove something. I am sure it must be the same over on your side."


    "Not really. The Lord and Commoner system have long since been abolished." I almost scoffed at the irony of my own words. "Democracy is commonplace now."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He smiled, although it didn''t quite reach his eyes. It felt like he was mourning, the rubbing of his thumb changing cadences every now and then. "Surely you benefit from this¡ªallegedly¡ªfair democracy."


    "Well, the ones in power do." I replied and the small, round congregation of Arcanum swelled in my palm. "Just a fancy name for the same thing."


    "Hmmm." He hummed out loud and let his arms dangle freely to the side. "Well, formality and duty refrain me from putting my own personal matters above the Lord''s motives, but I still need to ask a few things. Can I?"


    "I don''t think time is a luxury either of us can afford."


    His lower lip pressed over the upper one as he fell in deep thought. Looking over my shoulder, he saw someone crawl out of the pub, point at me and then drop down again.


    "So, someone is alive inside." He mumbled with surprise. "I am guessing you are the one who killed my mother. And the drunkie is a softie as well."


    "He has a few traits that make me want to spill his blood, yes. But putting that aside, you are right. I was the one who slit her throat."


    He hummed once again. "Then why do you still fight by his side?"


    "Conflict of Interest."


    A dark chuckle escaped his lips. "Right. I can understand that." His lip quivered. "Is her body in a retrievable condition?"


    I looked around us. More and more people were pouring in, but none of them dared to attack. Their gazes transitioned from anger and hate to pure disgust and mild surprise at the peaceful conversation between us.


    "She''s complete, if that''s what you are wondering. Buried underneath the 17th tree in the second column of the avenue. If you are walking from the Keep."


    "Oh." He smiled and then looked up. "I''ll make it swift then. I don''t really hold grudges or carry indiscriminate hatred towards any race." He craned his neck behind and then back at me. "My mother was a commoner. I am not. She always had this urge to be of some use to the duke that raped her and ended up making me."


    "That''s sad to hear, I guess."


    "Your words betray the look in your eyes, human." Ed let out a humourless chuckle. "But no, it''s not exactly sad. Look where I am." He extended his arms to the side in a welcoming way. "I am a General. Being the bastard of a Demon Duke isn''t my identity anymore. But that stupid hag had to go ahead and¡ªwell, I suppose it doesn''t matter now."


    He brought his hand above the ground and stopped it at a certain height.


    "As a Vorlith I give you my oath no one will intrude through our duel." He then looked at Michael. "As for you, I can''t guarantee that."


    Michael scoffed. "These twigs? Seriously?" Looking up at the sky he cackled. Like the boom of a lightning splitting the sky, his laughter echoed throughout the keep. As he slapped his knee, he looked up and wiped the tear from his eye before letting out a hiccup. He pumped both of his fists against each other. "I am going to murder y''all."


    His words were the catalyst as the echo of his laughter that was still reverberating was drowned out by the clamour of weapons clashing against shields and heavy steps of armour clanging on the ground beneath. Sand kicked up as the huge wave of soldiers of three distinct races¡ªDwarves, Trolls and Demons¡ªstarted to attack him altogether.


    With another cackle of a madman and a look on his face that bordered on insanity, he jumped into the crowd.


    Everyone was attacking him all the while narrowly skipping me.


    "He''ll die." He said and nodded as if agreeing with himself.


    "He''ll live." I replied as I looked at him, drunk on the pure adrenaline he received from violence. "If it was me, I would''ve died though."


    "Hmph. Humans really have their heads in the sky. It''s adorable¡­and unsightly at the same time."


    "Your position should make you understand why numbers are not everything." I motioned my head and then extended my hand towards the sky. The roof of the pub where all the weapons of people had joined broke open and multiple weapons started to float a few metres above my head in the shape of a halo.


    Flicking my index finger downwards, a sword landed in my grip. "Enough chitter chatter."

 33: Conflict of Interest - â…£

    Flicking my index finger downwards, a sword landed in my grip. "Enough chitter chatter."


    The welcoming look on his face all but vanished.


    "Nightcrackle." His lips moved, uttering a vaguely familiar name.


    The small area in space around him cracked and broke, ripping itself apart. Tendrils of something that looked like lightning infused tentacles stuck at open air as the small point in space fractured even more. And from the inside of the small tear in space, a handle poked out. Gripping it in his gloved hand, he pulled it and then held it above his head with its tip towards the sky, as if showing it off.


    It was a longsword with a dull grey blade and a fiery red hilt with a small amethyst gem on top of it.


    "Brace yourself, human. I don''t want you to disappear just yet." I felt his fingers tighten around the hilt. "I want my mother''s soul to be at rest. Even if it means disregarding the promise of giving you a quick death."


    "We''ll see about that--" The words in my throat were suspended in the air as he moved his sword down right from where he was standing.


    The air churned around the strike of his sword and detached itself from the physical body of the sword and extended towards me. Wisps of sickly grey moved like the side-view of a giant wave towards me.


    Pivoting my foot, I barely dodged it and focused on my hand. The white sphere of pure compressed Arcanum suddenly started to get larger with every passing breath until it dwarfed even my own stature and then the sphere erupted into a beam of pure Arcanum.


    There was not a beat of sound to be heard from either my attack or his, only pure havoc as the plumes of dust and debris rising from both of our backs marked the start of our battle.


    "Not bad." He remarked, looking behind himself.


    The area where his sword extension strike? had landed was completely gone. As if it had long since decayed and withered away into nothingness.


    As I was looking down at it, a shadow swallowed my own. Pushing my body backwards, I bumped into Ed and cancelled his downward strike. Using the hilt as a weapon, I tried to drive it into his ribs, however, since I had pushed my back into him, I was off balance.


    Taking advantage of that, he removed his own body from me that was anchoring my weight and blitzed to my side.


    Twisting my body immediately I plunged the sword into the ground, using it as a support to not fall down.


    Barely giving me any moment to rest¡ªrightfully¡ªhe drove his shoulder into me.


    The impact felt like a wrecking ball and my surroundings blurred and then stretched like rubber. Before I could fully register the crushing impact of the wild, bull-like charge and the excruciating pain that followed it, my back collided into the wall of one of the workshops.


    However, impetus was an unforgiving maiden.


    The flimsy wall made out of mud-covered stacked-rocks gave away the instant my body made contact and caved inwards.


    Piles upon piles of rocks and lumps of hardened dirt fell over me one after another, stacking like the tombstone of an unkempt grave.


    I clenched my teeth and held my breath, trying to push away the sensation of a needle stabbing the inside of my chest.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    With one sudden, concentrated blast of pure Arcanum from my palm, the stone grave exploded, releasing me.


    I heard the sound of flame hissing in the hearth to my left a second after I brought my sword up and blocked the bone jarring strike from Ed.


    His Nightcrackle clashed against the stolen sword with a certain degree of defiance. As if it was unworthy of clashing against such a feeble excuse of a sword.


    And it was not wrong.


    After delivering the shock of his blow to my arm that rattled my bones, the blade in my hand started to melt.


    The same wispy grey aura that had surrounded his slash clasped around my blade, coiling like a cobra around the solid surface and then its ghostly tendrils seeped into the metal like incorporeal tentacles.


    Sparks flew, followed by a crack in my blade as I pushed him back with a considerable amount of force¡ªwhich only slightly budged him; however, the damage was done.


    The dull clatter of the sword in my hand slowly fragmenting made me look down. Even the broken shards'' shape began to soften, its edges blurring and melding into the surrounding haze of the hearth burning the flammable objects around it.


    It was such a foreign thing to witness that I watched the last vestiges of solidity vanish into a faint shimmer all the while excluding Ed from my focus.


    As if letting me witness it, I saw him standing with Nightcrackle resting on his shoulder. "Done gawking? Have you gained some clarity now? Has the brain fog that makes you think you even have a sliver of a chance to succeed subsided?"


    Pushing myself to my feet, I raised my hand and the suspended halo of weapons atop my head into the hair moved towards me.


    Ed looked up and then cleared the distance between us in the blink of an eye.


    Weapons rained down at him like a hailstorm as I dashed backwards.


    The amethyst, crimson and black-grey colours that formed Nightcrackle combined in one deadly arc, slicing through every weapon I had sent towards him. The blade and handles of multiple types of weapons scattered around him like dried-up leaves in autumn as he stepped on them, crushing them to fine dust before stepping away.


    "It''s futile, human." His voice was a rumble. "You are feeble, your friend outnumbered and there is no hope for any of you." He took a heavy step towards me. "Succumb to the inevitable."


    I slightly tapped my right ear with my right hand. "You talk a lot." A sword flew from the right and I caught it. "And it''s getting on my nerves." Cranking my neck, I got into a tail stance, grabbing the hilt with both my hands and then extending it backwards. "And that''s a feat. Since I rarely get annoyed."


    He sighed in a way that made him look like a remorseful parent, disappointed in his child. "As you wish."


    Ed wasted no time, gave no further warning.


    An aura of black wispy flames burned the air in my lungs and coated his entire body, billowing up and down in a girthy cone.


    Not only the workshop where we had landed into but almost every other structure surrounding it was obliterated, the earth beneath blackened and burned away, flattening everything to the ground of the length of a football field.


    Smoke and debris formed a natural camouflage and he disappeared within it.


    [Phase 1: Ferrum Field]


    The roofs of almost every remaining workshop gave away as thousands of weapons flew towards me.


    Slicing through the mushroom of dust and black smoke, I caught sight of Nightcrackle, however, it was too late. Instead of parrying it, I pulled the weapons towards me and formed a round structure in front of me made entirely of swords and axes.


    They followed each other, attaching in a perfect sync while forming a giant kaleidoscope. The tip of Nightcrackle clashed against the stacked weapons and frenzied sparks flew in every direction.


    As if I was holding a tangible rope, I jerked my hand backwards and three spears homed in at Ed in a pincer attack.


    His focus faltered for a second as he looked back and swung his sword back at their bases. However, it seemed like he still wasn''t aware of my Arcane Arts. The severed top areas of the spears redirected themselves towards his chest and shoulders.


    Taking a hold of one of the swords that formed the defensive wall a while ago, I lunged forward.


    Swinging my sword in a downward, diagonal slash, I aimed for his thigh.


    Ed swung his sword in a circular motion and parried my attack and then immediately struck at the two spears.


    I flicked my arm and the last spear shifted direction. Weaving around him, it lodged itself into his thigh as I plunged my sword into his chest.


    Or so I thought.


    The tip of my sword that was imbued in a slightly pale golden aura stopped right before dipping into his chainmail as it started to glow and several shields compounded upon one another, taking the brunt of the attack before breaking layer by layer like shards of glass.


    His eyes were wide, and his smile grew wild. "You are something else." He mumbled in a moment of pure stillness.

 34: Conflict of Interest - â…¤

    The tip of my sword that was imbued in a slightly pale golden aura stopped right before dipping into his chainmail as it started to glow and several shields compounded upon one another, taking the brunt of the attack before breaking layer by layer like shards of glass.


    His eyes were wide, and his smile grew wild. "You are something else." He mumbled in a moment of pure stillness.


    And then time resumed once again.


    My thoughts doubled over as his feet suddenly tangled with each other and before I could even process it, he was behind me.


    Nightcrackle made contact with my unprotected back and a searing jolt of pain went down my spine and then into my legs, making them go numb for a moment that felt like a decade.


    Twisting my body and backflipping, I avoided a stab aimed at my heart and landed on top of his shoulder. Grabbing his curved horns and pulling them back, I kicked the back of his head before summoning another sword.


    The searing sensation of Nightcrackle cutting still persisted and it felt like a parasite had taken birth inside me, slowly eating away at the festering wound. It wasn''t something natural.


    A laboured breath escaped me as I plunged the sword into the chainmail. This time the mechanism didn''t activate and it cut through the dense metal. I felt the sword make contact with flesh, renting it apart and then hit his bone.


    Letting out a roar, he swung his sword at his own head.


    Kicking the lodged sword and widening his wound, I created some distance between us.


    He stumbled forward, and then fell to one knee. Quickly removing the sword from his shoulder, he looked back at me.


    Gone was the look of superiority and was replaced by a simmering rage ready to boil over.


    "As I said, you talk a lot." A plethora of swords appeared beside me, their tips pointing at him. "A dying man should not waste his breath on empty words."


    Instead of replying, he shot upwards. The wispy black aura around Ed flared as he dove, expanding behind him like enormous wings. Red aura manifested as an extension of his sword.


    It was only after I squinted my eyes was when I realised the wispy black thing was not his aura. It was a manifestation, or rather application of his Arcane Art.


    They were flames. Dark and shadowy flames.


    It made a bit of sense now. When I had fired the beam of Arcanum at him, his sword slash had almost removed everything from existence. Or that is what I had speculated.


    The second occurrence was when he broke my sword just by touching it.


    Through a simple process of elimination, it became quite clear that¡­


    "It''s decay-based, isn''t it? Your Arcane Art?" I uttered with a lopsided frown.


    His features hardened mid-flight and his speed increased. Flying towards me like a fighter jet, he suddenly accelerated and the cacophony of sound barrier breaking made my senses go into high alert. My sword was only midway when it shattered to bits and the invisible strike blew me away.


    Planting my feet firmly into the ground, I killed the momentum.


    My arms were screaming in protest.


    I was no match for Ed in a pure physical aspect. If it was a contest of pure strength, I would''ve been defeated.


    And he was almost as fast as me.


    My teeth gnashed against each other. The situation was progressively getting worse. My Arcanum reserves were still supporting me; however, Michael was dwindling down.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The amount of people swarming him were endless.


    And he is forced to not use his Arcane Arts. Even if he does, he and I both might die as well. It''s a high risk, low reward, last ditch approach.


    Ed had flown into the air once again, and was looking down at me like a vulture gawking at its prey.


    I needed to either kill Ed¡ªwhich was most likely impossible¡ªor run away with Michael. Although his maniacal laughter was providing an eerie backdrop and some support in this whole despairing scenario, he would soon hit his limit. The small cuts and bruises all over his body will soon catch up to him.


    The sword in my hand and the numerous others around me glowed in a golden aura as I infused my legs in Arcanum.


    Remember all the lessons, I reminded myself.


    Even if my memory isn''t there, my body can remember it. The pain and suffering it had been subjected to. The pain that had shattered my soul and left this empty, purposeless husk- I tried to embrace it.


    The image of my mother¡ªLady Sif, flashed in front of my eyes.


    ''This is what you want, don''t you!''


    I cursed, both at my powerlessness and the fact that I was going to do what she had always asked me to.


    To not run away from who I was. But to accept it. Embrace it. Become one with it.


    Something burned against my back.


    It was the slash Ed had delivered.


    It would make sense. His flames are imbued with a decaying property.


    And I can''t heal it myself. Not something like this. I need Astrid.


    Only she''s able to do it¡­


    The thoughts of self-preservation and my well-being started to fade ploddingly, but gradually into oblivion.


    The edges of my consciousness started to darken and something dark and primal awoke within me.


    As I felt Ed''s muscles tense and getting ready to dip and attack me, time slowed down. Or rather my perception increased.


    At first the presence felt like a foreign entity, however, it felt something much more personal. Like an intrinsic urge. However, it still was so- so alien that I could not believe the sensation as my own.


    The pale glow of my eyes illuminated the sword in my hand and I felt the entire world blur out of existence, save for one person. Ed.


    My body felt like lead, and a feather at the same time.


    As if acting on pure instinct, I hurled myself into the air as the ground beneath me exploded and Ed fell from the sky like a bolt of murky dark lightning.


    My hand burned as a huge ball of Arcanum condensed into my palm.


    A wave of the same corrosive fire broiled out from his hand.


    I blasted my own sphere of pure Arcanum before slashing at his throat with my dull blade. However, his body dissipated like smoke, vanishing into the flames still filling the sky like a giant fish net.


    I stabbed into the small opening towards my exposed back and the sword made contact with Nightcrackle. The corrosive flame stuck to my blade and then hungrily ate away like termites infesting wood. The only difference being it was much faster.


    And then he was gone again.


    Before the flames could stick to my hand, I got rid of it and a spear landed in my hands.


    I had done basic spars with all weapons. However, the spear was something that never sat well with me.


    But this wasn''t the time to complain. Ed had fired off another net of acidic flames from within the nebula of smoke rising from the devastation of "The Keep" beneath and the corrosive flames hanging like a curtain in the air.


    My arms blurred like a helicopter''s blade as I slashed around me, dispersing the flames like dandelion seeds against the seasonal warm gusts.


    He reappeared; however, only this time it was right in front of me. His hand, girded in the flames, plunged into my side, melting flesh and bone alike before curling around my ribs.


    The pain slowly took a free-fall into a cold well as more and more of the surroundings started to blur.


    The spear in my hand cratered and I held him by his throat with one hand and dipped my ring and middle finger into the shoulder wound that I had given him a while ago.


    "Gruh!" He grunted and the ribs in his hold shattered, sending a tremor of hot pain throughout my chest.


    Blood seeped out of the corner of my lips and I kicked him back. With a roar of frustration, I threw the dropped spear after him that hissed through the burning air like a javelin before immediately dissolving upon touching the corrosive aura that stuck to Ed''s body.


    My survival instincts continued to fell into abstraction, battle-thirst taking over my senses and pushing rationality to a far, far back corner of consciousness.


    The thought of my mother being responsible for this state of mine made my entire body shudder.


    Fear was something I had never experienced. After all, being on the top of the food chain¡ªeven being the apex of humanity was something that disallowed me to ever feel it.


    However, that woman¡­ this gnawing feeling of the fact that my every action is manipulated by her makes me¡­ fearful.


    My body sagged down as I realised that my pants have grown heavy from the amount of blood continuously seeping and soaking into them from the gash into my back and the side of my ribcage.


    Ed''s feet doubled over and my senses went into a frenzy. It was the same sequence of footwork as before.


    Once again¡­ something much more primal and purer struggled to flicker to life and my rationality morphed into something akin to a candle trying to stay alive in the midst of a rainstorm.


    A pair of ethereal, pale and cold hands seemed to hug me from behind and pull me in.


    And then I felt myself fall into a black hole, losing my consciousness.


    Was that footwork a skill all along?

 35: Wantonness - â… 

    3rd person POV:


    Blood and Arcanum both drummed not only in Arthur''s ears, but it resonated with his entire being.


    The pupils inside his glowing grey irises contracted until it completely vanished, leaving behind an expressionless void instead of the growling fear that had crept up onto his face due to the growing paranoia of him falling right where his mother wants him to be.


    His consciousness was completely buried underneath a layer of viciousness, which was in total contrast to his usual pragmatic self.


    Pain faded away and so did the useless thoughts that hindered his movements.


    Ed levitated in the sky, looking down at Arthur with a disappointed look. Wings of dark grey flames fluttered, sending ashes in every direction. Nightcrackle pulsed in his grasp like a sentient entity, perfectly conducting his decay property flames.


    He shook his head and directed his sword''s tip towards Arthur, planning to finish it with this strike. Flames started to grow. But unlike the first time, they didn''t seem to detach themselves from his sword and turn into the mass slaughtering attack. It grew as an extension of Nightcrackle''s tip, never leaving it.


    "In the end, you''re just a human." Ed spat. "Parlour tricks fade away in the face of true strength. You blame us for your near extinction." His nostril flared. "All of you are just liars. And mindless murderers. Living in your own ideal fantasy where you victimise yourself. I thought highly of you even when you killed my mother. Because you had a good presence of mind and detected that she was probing you and was going to report back¡­ but, but you are no different. Thinking you can defeat me. That same confidence is going to be your downfall. Just like your kin."


    His words were not laced with anger, but disappointment. As if avenging his mother''s life was more of a chore than an act out of genuine affection.


    As Ed held the hilt of his sword with his other hand, the ground beneath Arthur exploded and he disappeared.


    Ed''s hair stood on its edge as he suddenly turned around. However, Arthur wasn''t coming from his back.


    Before he could turn back towards Arthur, his sword met the exposed back of Ed.


    The ashy flames decayed the sword''s blade before it could even sever more than the fabric that Ed was wearing, however, Arthur spun in midair and his shin met Ed''s face.


    The kick was followed by an ear-numbing boom followed by the formation of a shockwave in the shape of a halo with Arthur as its epicentre.


    A sudden rush of Arcanum flared upwards and his wings increased three-folds in size. Every beat sent a wave of heat that decayed everything in its path.


    The sky was covered with the glimmer of weapons¡ªthe only metallic objects in the keep¡ªas they started to congregate in a thick kaleidoscope formation in front of Arthur. The heat wave crashed like a high-tide against a cliff.


    The hissing sound and acrid smell of something foul burning against metal filled the air as Ed stabilised himself via his gigantic wings.


    The centre of the giant kaleidoscope opened, paving way as Arthur''s hand emerged from inside it. Lightning crackled and enveloped his entire hand before shooting a concentrated beam of azure lightning down at Ed.


    The air whistled as it cracked and popped, random sparks flying in every direction.


    Swinging his Nightcrackle, he once again enveloped it into a sheen of grey flames before detaching the slash.


    The ethereal tendrils of the flames stuck to the lightning like a parasite. Most of it fizzled away and some of it cancelled the spell, weakening it enough for Ed to swat it away with a flick of his hand.


    Letting loose another thin and much weaker streak of lightning for cover, Arthur burst across the ground before leaping at him, his both hands tightly clasping a spear.


    Gone was the calculative expression from his face and the cold logic from his eyes and was replaced by a harrowing emptiness, focused on the sole action of killing the person right in front of him.


    Ed and Arthur both crashed in tandem.


    Grey and azure sparks flew as lightning impacted against Nightcrackle''s decay aura.


    The following moment both Arthur and Ed''s figures became a blur. In a series of what looked like synchronised detonations, they exchanged more than a few hundred strikes in the matter of seconds that passed by even faster than they should''ve.


    Each strike from Arthur was being perfectly parried by Ed, and the ones that managed to bypass his defences left only a meagre mark.


    A dozen new wounds opened up across Arthur''s body, albeit much more serious and deeper than Ed''s.


    However, Ed''s nose was scrunched. Arthur''s body was a bloody mess, but he kept swinging his sword without any decrease in efficiency.


    As if the wounds were not significant. As if the wounds didn''t matter. As if the wounds were not even inflicted and it was just an illusion that Ed was seeing.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    It irked him.


    He roared at Arthur''s insouciance towards the state of his own body or the current situation and lunged at him.


    Then Arthur was hurtling like a lifeless object through the air.


    The extension of Nightcrackle''s tip was embedded in his chest, and it was growing, carrying Arthur along with it.


    Fifteen feet, eighteen, twenty¡­ fifty¡ªuntil he slammed high against one of the few standing workshops.


    However, his fall wasn''t stopped there as he went on crashing like a ragdoll before eventually crashing into a brothel.


    The establishment collapsed, cries of women echoing everywhere. The air was heavy, laden with the smell of body fluids; however, it didn''t really matter much to the robotic state in which Arthur was.


    His spear lashed out, but the grey flames shifted, moving and reforming around his weapon. He hacked at it wildly, like an untrained boy trying to split a log.


    His temples throbbed like an insistent beat of a drum, echoing throughout his skull. Each pulse felt like an explosion, sending waves of discomfort to almost palpably radiate outward. A rush of blood surged through his veins with every beat of his heart, amplifying the sensation to a fever pitch.


    The numbed state of mind was washing over the hot pain, submersing it in a detached and concentrated manner.


    However, the decay-imbued tip continued to expand, growing through him, pressing against with an intent to puncture through the Arcanum imbued flesh and into this heart. Layer upon layer of Arcanum was slowly getting peeled away as the tip grew wider, trying to rip a hole through Arthur.


    His eyes were eerily blank as he didn''t spare a look down at the sword''s tip that was about to dig a hole into him. Disregarding any common sense, he gripped the blade''s extension. The wispy grey tendrils latched themselves onto his hand and his palm started to get dark.


    Like an alive, symbiotic organism, a black blotch took a sinuous leap, its inky body trying to seep into flesh and bone. The skin right beneath his thumb started to decay, first the epidermis and then the lower layers, as they began to give away with a slight sizzle.


    From beneath the layer of mindless bloodlust, a moan of pain escaped his lips.


    People were escaping from the brothel where he had crashed and were now running away.


    A short statured Dwarf, with a towel wrung around her body, peeked in from the other side and saw Arthur pinned to the ground in a bloody mess.


    Finding the right moment, she made a dash for it.


    However¡­


    A spark of electricity left Arthur''s left hand and struck the woman right beneath her right knee. She fell down on her face and by the time she looked down and a guttural cry of pain erupted from her throat, Arthur had already dragged her to himself from the red stub that was once her leg.


    As he did, Ed''s brows narrowed into a frown. Holding the Dwarf woman by her hair, Arthur pulled and was about to bang her face into the extension of Nightcrackle.


    Without wasting words on a remark, Ed cancelled Nightcrackle''s extension just in time.


    A small gash had made its way on Arthur''s chest; however, his internal organs were safe and there was no internal bleeding.


    Wasting no time, Arthur stood up like a dead corpse reanimating and then disappeared amidst a net of lightning that fried the woman''s skin to black tar.


    The azure bolt of lightning arced upwards, carrying Arthur with it. The broken shards of weapons Arthur had used until now started to tremble in a frenzy as the shrapnel lurched towards himself. The tangerine-coppery shade of flames engulfing The Keep made them shine brightly like shooting stars across the smoky sky.


    Ed growled and blitzed towards Arthur, swinging Nightcrackle in a downward slash.


    His eyes grew wide.


    "How?" He mindlessly mumbled.


    The wispy grey aura latched on to Arthur''s dense sword, however, it struggled to initiate oxidation as azure lightning fought back against it. It was too dense to decay immediately.


    Arthur no longer needed to deliver one strike and then back off. His weapon wasn''t going to betray him anytime soon.


    In his moment of daze, Arthur found an opening and immediately took advantage of it. However, something he had been trying to ignore until now finally made its presence.


    Gravity.


    He tried to fight back against the laws of nature, to believe¡ª believe that he can fly, however, it pulled him down and his sword swung at open air.


    The place where Arthur landed caved in on impact and the crater only widened as Ed followed suit.


    "Enough of this mouse-chase, boy!" Ed was losing composure at the certain events repeating themselves over and over with minimal changes.


    Arthur stayed silent however, his Arcanum flickered weakly before booming outwards.


    And then the two became a blur. Once again.


    Golden tinged with azure lightning and black carrying hints of grey wisps aura manifested and mingled before flattening everything down to the ground. Their auras hardened like blades and whipped like mad snakes at everything.


    Despite the earlier irritated expression on Ed''s face still lingering, he was smiling. He was enjoying it.


    Fissures snaked from the inside of the crater, cutting at everything. Even Ed''s allies who were starting to overpower Michael with pure, sheer numbers started to get cut. Their bodies were cleaved in half, cut into different areas as limbs, head and entire bodies started to fly in every direction imaginable.


    The ashes and smoke from flames that engulfed The Keep were blown away by the crimson rain that rained like a heavy downpour.


    The golden, crackling aura whipped around Michael and struck his hand as he let out a gasp. The intoxication had long since left him and now pure adrenaline acted as a fuel. However, he had gained enough sanity to not die purely because of his high headedness.


    He looked at Arthur and then narrowed his eyes.


    "Something''s wrong with this fucker." He mumbled to himself before sidestepping and avoiding a flying javelin. Catching it in his bare hand, he threw it back. The tip of the javelin pierced a demon''s gut and then continued to travel backwards until it struck another demon and then pinned their light bodies to the wall of a ration shop. "Also, how many of you are here!? Damn you!" He cursed and then ran after the incoming people.


    A demon with short cropped hair lunged at him.


    Michael''s eyes gleamed as he saw the demon wearing gauntlets.


    "Oho! Oh yeah, baby! That''s how it should be." He cried out as the demon swung at him, causing a shockwave to travel behind Michael. A small trail of blood flowed down his nose as he looked back at the demon. "Men should throw hands, don''t ya think!? Weapons are for pussies like that idiot there!" He cackled, pointing at Arthur. As the demon glanced in Arthur''s direction with a morbid sense of gnawing fear, Michael kicked him in his crotch.


    "BAHAHA! You''re such an idiot. Listening to your enemy." Michael looked back and squinted his eyes. "He''s not being his usual self. There can''t be a realm where that''s right." As he was thinking, the subtle smile all but faded as a hundred needle-like spikes started to rain on him.


    Flipping to the side, he avoided most of them, however, some of them lodged themselves into his shoulder blade and his arm.


    He looked down at them with a frown before Arcanum covered his skin and he flexed his muscles. The needles shot out like miniature projectiles. Turning to the source of the attack, Michael raised his chin.


    The one who had fired it was a Dwarf with long facial and head hair. So long that his features were almost impossible to make sense of. His beard was combed neatly until it reached his knees and was put in place using a beard ring at the end. Two thick, brown-ish pig-tails rested on his shoulders.


    "Hmmmm. Finally, someone who has an Arcane Art." Michael cocked his head. "I am not really smart, I''d admit, but don''t you think it''s strange? So many of you weaklings in an army camp of sorts?" He asked the Dwarf.


    "I will waste no breath on you, human."

 36: Wantonness - â…¡

    "Hmmmm. Finally, someone who has an Arcane Art." Michael cocked his head. "I am not really smart, I''d admit, but don''t you think it''s strange? So many of you weaklings in an army camp of sorts?" He asked the Dwarf.


    "I will waste no breath on you, human."


    "Bah!" Michael threw his hands into the air in an exaggerated manner. "Shut up when I am talking, short ass motherfucker. You''re a puppet, act like one." The cruel touch in his voice made the Dwarf flinch as he took another step. "Weird. Very weird. I am sure Mr. Know-it-all there has figured it out as well, as long as he''s not lost his mind."


    "Don''t waste your last words on idle chatter, h-human!" The Dwarf raised his hands and multiple head-sized chunks of rocks rose up from the ground.


    "Army encampment on such a huge scale and I have only seen one person with an Arcane Art. Except the edgy grey flames batman guy, of course." Michael''s fist pounded into his palm. "Dunno what''s up, but I know for a damned fact that you lot are up to something sus."


    Michael spoke everything in Abrahamic, except for the last bit which he uttered in pure English.


    The Dwarf gulped audibly and pressed his fingers into open air. Dust and gravel fell from the chunks of earth that were floating around him, leaving behind medium sized earthen bullets. The bullets had a spiral design over them. "Damn you!" He barked, and then flicked his wrist.


    The needle-like projectiles went upwards before raining down in a black barrage of death.


    Michael sneered and then looked down at the Dwarf.


    "Say, shorty." He spoke, standing unfazed amidst the black rain. "What do you think a person should do when they can''t use their own Arcane Arts? Because it does more harm than good to the user."


    The Dwarf stayed silent, not uttering a word as he saw his spell bounce off Michael''s skin as if it wasn''t made out of hardened earth, but rather rubber.


    "The only choice¡­" he caught one of the projectiles with his bare hands, "¡­you train your body to the point that it can compensate for the lack of sheer annihilation an Arcane Art can produce." He paused, letting a few dramatic seconds pass by. "Or you mould a skill into your cortex."


    The Dwarf''s eyes widened in a rush of sudden realisation. However, it was already too late.


    His feet hovered over the ground as Michael''s fingers snaked around his throat. His breath hitched and fell short. A second later, Michael''s hand tore through the flesh and broke through the ribcage, his cold hand sending a shiver around the Dwarf''s warm, pulsating heart.


    His hand closed and the heart crushed into his grip. Throwing his body to the side, Michael cranked his neck.


    The Dwarf fell to the ground, and after a few seconds, he gasped, crying out in pain.


    "Arghhh¡­!"


    Mustering all of his strength, he touched his chest.


    Much to his own surprise, his heart was still beating. Alive and whole.


    Looking from the side of his eye, Michael scoffed. "Be grateful I can''t use my Arcane Art."


    The Dwarf willed Arcanum into his body to move, however, despite the fuel being there, there was no strength in his limbs. They just laid there, like limp pieces of flesh and bone.


    He turned around, his sharp gaze washing over everyone he had defeated until now.


    Arms and legs were bent at unnatural angles, and many of them were buried underneath heaps of burning debris.


    Plopping down on the ground, Michael breathed out a sigh.


    "Ahh, man, this sucks." He spoke as he saw Arthur and Ed exchange blows, sending ripples of shockwaves everywhere. "Is he under mind control or something?" He spoke to himself. Combing his fingers through his long, snow-white locks, he brushed the stray strands to the back. "For crying out loud, I didn''t get paid to babysit this freak."


    Shaking his head, he looked back.


    An extremely strong Arcanum signature was approaching. The mere inching closer of it made Michael feel like death itself was walking towards him. The dark, sicky green aura oozing out of the person was suffocating, and his vision almost doubled over.


    "I guess there is no point in fighting here anymore." He whispered underneath his breath. "Even if I use it, I don''t have a chance." A sour taste filled his mouth. "Tch, how pathetic of me to want the old man to come and take care of this."


    Standing up, he crouched down, touching the ground with his hands and extending his legs backwards.


    Like a sprint position.


    Arcanum blazed like forest-fire and his legs glowed in an amethyst aura.


    As he took a step, the force sent debris and crippled bodies backwards.


    Ed and Arthur were trapped in a stalemate, their swords locked together. Arthur''s face was still as impassive as the moment his pupils disappeared completely from his irises and Ed had a smile on his face, enjoying this fight to the fullest. Their locked swords caused scintillating sparks to fly everywhere.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    With the sound of feet digging into the ground and coming to a screeching halt, Michael arrived right behind Ed. With a grin on his face, Michael placed his hand over the arm that was holding the sword.


    "Buckle up, horned boy!"


    In a flash, his fist made contact with Ed''s jaw.


    Ed''s head immediately snapped back at the blow, lifting him off the ground only a few inches.


    "That tickled," Ed growled, cracking his neck. "Begone." His hand directed at Michael and a huge congregation of flames started to gather in the centre of his palm.


    However, Michael grabbed his arm and bent it in the middle, redirecting its direction.


    "You''re quite bold." Ed spoke in a calm voice.


    Arthur redirected Ed''s strike, and then immediately followed with a quick stab towards Ed''s chest. Michael''s eyes widened as the sword''s tip missed its mark and stabbed Ed in his arm-pit and Arthur followed with a spinning kick and elbow to Michael.


    "Oye! You dickhead. I am on your team!" Michael exclaimed unbelievably as he was thrown a few yards away.


    Ed''s eyes flicked from Arthur to Michael and a sense of confusion invaded him.


    Something exploded right behind them, a few yards away and the sickly green aura rose up in the shape of a tornado, tearing the layer of clouds overcast.


    The smell of death filled the air and even Ed felt a shiver crawl up his spine.


    "Lord Cromwell is here¡­"


    His thought was interrupted as Michael punched him, harder this time, throwing him a few yards away.


    Arthur blurred and lunged at Michael, however, he held Arthur''s arm and then got behind him, locking his hand to the back.


    "Wake up, you bastard. I don''t know what kind of contract or vow you entered with whatever damned God, but I am not dying just because my driver lost his fucking mind!"


    Michael''s arm pushed heavily against Arthur''s throat. Ed capitalised on the moment and burst forward.


    As Arthur''s eyes started to lose light and were to roll back into his head, his pupils dilated suddenly and the frenzied shiver in his body subsided.


    Nightcrackle blurred with grey wisps as its tail. A moment later two spears embedded into Ed''s hamstrings, followed by a sword to his right arm and then another spear followed and grazed his hip. The swords that had stopped protecting and attacking Arthur due to lack of rationality all started to shiver once again.


    Pushing Michael back, Arthur coughed, ignoring Ed who was down on one knee.


    He blinked his eyes a few times. "I''ll thank you later." Arthur spoke as he moved his hands in the form of a sign. Bringing the base of his palms together, he closed his eyes.


    The swords and spears started to form a cage around the two of them. Their tips pointed towards not only Ed, but every living person.


    [Phase 1: Hailstorm]


    Lightning coursed through the weapons and cries of people filled the air.


    Layers of shields stacked over each other in front of Ed now that his chainmail had recharged, however, his focus faltered. Seeing people die one after another as the barrage of swords slash and mutilate them caused a conflict of emotions into him.


    Should he stall the two until his "Lord Cromwell" arrived? Or should he go all-out and capture the two right now and avoid future deaths?


    He was torn. Even a second of negligence could result in his own demise.


    Letting out a deep breath, Nightcrackle came to life. For the first time. Instead of conducting Ed''s grey flames, it started to glow in its own unique glow.


    A rather disturbed look appeared on Michael''s face.


    "Uhh, they''re not dying."


    Arthur clicked his tongue as he saw the mutilated corpses reanimate.


    "They''re dying. Someone is reviving them." Arthur looked back. "He mentioned his Lord in the beginning. Maybe it''s him." A strained gasp left his lips as his Arcanum dwindled.


    "Necromancy? There is no record of such sorcery." Michael argued back.


    "That doesn''t matter right now. We have to escape." Arthur spoke and grabbed Michael by the scruff of his clothes.


    "Yeah, my useless driver, that is what I have been trying to tell you for so long."


    "Oh please, don''t start it at this time. I am low on blood, Arcanum and patience."


    "Shouldn''t have let him beat your ass like that then."


    "Good Lord! You talk a lot." A net of electricity encased the two as Arthur directed his hand in the direction where he first appeared in Eden.


    The knife that he made from the ring Albert had given him was still embedded into the cliff''s surface.


    Using Ferrum Field in a way that instead of himself acting as a metal object and the knife as a magnet, he reversed the roles. Before Ed could dash and restrain them, their figures disappeared in a maelstrom of yellow and azure sparks.


    "NOOO!"


    Ed limped, struggling to walk with so many weapons embedded into him.


    Nightcrackle''s charged attack sliced through the air. Making its way through the few people who were barely standing, one hand on knee and other on the side support, the beam of death approached them as panic and dread filled Ed.


    However, a person stepped in front of them and swatted the attack away like it was nothing. Or rather it wasn''t swatted away.


    The Arcanum that made up the charged attack was sucked into a ring that had the appearance of the maw of a creature that looked like a dragon.


    "Hmm." He narrowed his eyes on Ed who fell to one knee. "You let them go."


    "¡­" Ed stayed silent, not uttering a word, the hot pain coursing through his veins stealing away any excuse he had formed in his mind.


    "Well, I guess you wanted to break him for killing your mother." He spoke in an apathetic way.


    Ed lowered his head until it was an inch above the charred ground. "I apologise, my Lord."


    The man''s golden eyes with swirling white pupils focused on him, unblinkingly. "Shallow words, is what you''re offering, General Ed." He replied, the disappointed edge never leaving his voice. "If you want to apologise, prove yourself with actions." He paused and then looked around. "The prisoners are all dead as well." A smirk formed on his face. "Good, good."


    As he turned around, the wind caused his robe to flutter wildly in the air, causing a loud whoosh, drowning out the crackle of everything¡ªstructures and people alike¡ªburning. "We will commence with the original plan, General Ed."


    "As your lordship commands!" Biting back the bitter taste in his mouth, he thumped his fist against his chest.


    Although Arthur had not defeated him, Ed considered his escape as a loss.


    The Lord took a step forward and then stopped to look back, taking his hood off and revealing a bush of short, curly white hair. Two pairs (4 horns) of obsidian horns-- one pair sprouting from his forehead that moved upwards like razor-sharp daggers and the other two extending upwards from his temples and curling down around his ear.


    "Failure will not be tolerated this time around." He spoke, his slit-swirling golden eyes narrowing.


    Ed dipped his head, shame urging him to bury himself in a hole somewhere. His curiosity with Arthur and selfish desire to defeat Arthur by humiliating him as he exhausts himself had caused him to attract the ire¡ªalthough subtle¡ªtowards himself.


    "I swear by Hades, I will either have his head on my sword, or die trying."


    The man nodded and then slightly shook his head sideways.


    "It will be quite disappointing if you die to a human pup. And while I appreciate the sentiment, I have something else planned for you. The boy that fought you... there''s something really magnetic about him. I am quite enthralled." He looked at the moonlit sky. "We unleash the Wujins first thing in the morning."


    And then a sinister smile formed on his lips as he talked to himself.


    "Arthur, huh?" He smacked his lip, as if savouring his name. "¡­ I have my own set of action planned out for him."

 Interlude: A Stroll through Osaka.

    ~4,484 words


    Maria Miranda''s POV:


    "Maria-chan! We are here!"


    Yuki''s unusually soft, dulcet voice jolted me awake from my little nap.


    The subtle joggle of the car had ceased a few minutes ago so I already knew about it.


    I wasn''t exactly asleep since I could still feel and hear everything around me, however, the warm and cosy ambiance of the car and the clothes hugging me in a soft embrace made me so weak and lazy that even opening my eyes felt strenuous.


    "Mmm~ Yeah, I am awake."


    My voice came out much softer than I intended it to, causing Yuki to giggle.


    "We can come here tomorrow if you want." She pressed the fingers of both her hands together in a meek way and then parted the base of her palms in a cute gesture. "I feel bad for waking you up now. You were already tired."


    The grogginess still stretched over my senses like clouds on a rainy day, but I managed to muster up a spine, placing my hand over Yuki''s.


    "It''s fine." I replied and then removed my hand, stretching my body sideways. My back creaked in protest as another groan escaped me. "And besides, luxury of delaying matters or putting it on hold is something we can longer afford."


    "Now that you put it this way¡­" With a sullen expression Yuki shrank back into her seat, pouting. "¡­it''s such a headache. We are practically doing double the work than we were supposed to!" She complained, her cheeks inflating as she did.


    Pressing my palms against my eyes, I tried to blink off the haze drowsiness.


    "No use in complaining." I mumbled; my voice croaky.


    The car was a decent sized Sedan with neon light on the inside, lighting all four corners in a mix of purple, blue and red hues.


    A little bit childish for my taste, but then again, it was not my car. So, it didn''t bother me enough to make me not want to travel in it.


    Currently I am accompanying Yuki in the city of Osaka, Japan. A Frontier had appeared in this city. While the monsters spawned in Tokyo, the Frontier had spawned 500 kilometres away. It was strange.


    The Olaniyans, Dotun in particular and Albert were looking into this matter, however, nothing much came to light. The only other person who could''ve aided in this whole pandemonium was¡­


    ¡­Arthur.


    But anyone who was an heir, except Yuki, could tell that it was of no use.


    Olvasens have always been neutral. So neutral that they don''t even involve themselves in scenarios in which it''s required to. Unless, of course, they have something huge to gain from it.


    Sounds pretty bad on paper, but every Syndicate was like this.


    "Hmph!" Yuki huffed at my previous statement, cutting through my monologue like a hot knife through butter. "It''s not even our fault!"


    Looking around in the back seat, I reached out for the small water bottle. I stayed silent and undid the cap, taking huge gulps from it. Once I had moistened my parched throat, I breathed out a loud, informal sigh of relief before wiping the moisture over my lips with my sleeve.


    "It''s fine." I gently patted her head, ignoring the storm that strengthened and weakened in regular intervals inside my chest.


    In a few hours, it was going to be four nights since Arthur went into the shimmer. Along with Michael. And until now there has been no sighting of them.


    The reports we gathered was that something took the shape of a dome and trapped everything in hundreds of metres in its radius. Something other than the Frontier''s dome.


    The Seven Syndicates had gathered to solve this situation, but both Mr. White and Mr. Olvasen had gone missing.


    While finding Mr. Olvasen is like fighting a lost battle, Mr. White disappearing is something that is strange.


    Unlike the Olvasens, Whites can''t hide well in this digital era. Especially due to their Arcanum signature that they leave like a radiation spike in a nuclear fallout area.


    Yuki tilted, placing her head on my shoulder. She was like a cute little sister. She was younger than Yui, her sister and the previous heir, and while one would expect she would be more mature than her older sister due to her replacing Yui, it was not true.


    She was just as innocent as any normal 15-year-old. It was a breath of fresh air. To sometimes be in the company of someone that wasn''t a freak of nature. More so inside the Syndicates.


    Patting her head repeatedly, I gently placed my other hand on her shoulder and softly nudged her.


    "We should get going."


    She clasped both her arms around my waist and started to flail her legs. "I don''t want to!!!!!!"


    Laughing out loud, I peeled myself away from her. "The quicker we survey the possible area this Frontier could expand on, the better we get to go home."


    Yuki let out another agitated, peevish huff before letting go of me. "Fine." She spoke with a smack of her lips.


    The world outside the black windows, coupled with the fact that it was almost evening, was hard to see. Letting out an unsteady breath, I placed my hand on the door latch before pulling it.


    Without any sound, the door opened, the multi coloured streak of light permeating through the narrow gap.


    With a nervous gulp, I took a step out of the car, as did Yuki.


    Three men stood on either side of the car, their hands clasped together.


    The sound of cameras clicking and flashes lighting up the place flooded the area behind the men as a few reporters struggled to take a look beyond the huge barricade that the army had set up.


    One of the men looked back and nodded his head as the ten or so army personnel carrying rifles nodded back and started to push the reporters away.


    Currently we are in Dotonbori, the southern area of Osaka. The Frontier was only on a ten minutes-walk away from where he had been dropped off.


    Indian, Japanese and Brazilian governments had decided to cooperate with local armies to mitigate the situations regarding Frontiers.


    Strangely enough they already knew about Arcanum.


    It would seem like the person who recovered Adam''s Battle Armour also somehow figured about Arcanum. That was the reason why it didn''t take much time for us to explain everything to the authorities.


    "Let''s go."


    With a nod in my direction, Yuki prompted me to follow her.


    A group of 4 other men began to walk in front of us. 3 of them had decent amounts of Arcanum. It was actually surprising. It was quite likely that one or two of them might even have awakened an elemental power.


    Elemental powers were the basic magic as shown in stories. Fire, Water, Earth and Wind.


    Elemental powers are quite common. Although it depends on person to person. It''s like a mystical representation of a person. A hot-headed person has more chances of unlocking fire when compared to a peaceful person.


    It''s quite simple.


    And while we too could awaken it, due to the Blood Contract, we can''t manifest anything else. Leaving us with the same techniques as our ancestors.


    However, Arcane Arts do evolve over time.


    Arthur once said that ''Arcane Arts functionality is directly proportional to our understanding,'' when we used to be little. He was quite vocal and loved to associate.


    Ahhh- I wonder where that cute kid disappeared~!?


    Yuki matched my light-hearted stride as I reminisced about our childhood. When everything used to be quite simple. Much more¡­ pure. There was no hate. We weren''t privy of any kind of hidden agendas. No malice.


    Just all of us, playing together in the vast forest-like terrain of Fjellborg.


    I used to look forward to the Annual Meetings.


    Now it''s just a mix of bittersweet feelings. A dilemma. A constant, gnawing dilemma.


    My mood shifted subtly, and I took a shaky breath.


    The air was pure, for the most part. I closed my eyes and walked for a few seconds without looking. Let my natural sense of direction guide me.


    After a minute or so, I felt fingers coiling around my hand before fixing themselves in between the spaces of my own. Opening my eyes, I saw Yuki looking up at me with a worried expression.


    Now that we had gotten outside of the hidden alleys that served as a shortcut and were walking along a huge canal that stretched for miles on end, I could fully see her.


    Her long black hair spilled flawlessly behind her back, stopping right above her hips. A few locks rested on her shoulder and a few of them spilled forward; so glossy and thick and they seemed to reflect the neon lighting of the buildings all around us. Her hair was styled in two buns over both sides of head and symmetric bangs covered her forehead.


    Beneath her bangs were a pair of soft, gradient red eyes, the corner of them creased into a worried expression.


    She was wearing a casual dress consisting of an oversized hoodie that reached well below her knees. Beneath them she was wearing opaque stockings and leather shoes.


    She was dressed quite neatly.


    Contrary to myself. I was wearing yesterday''s buttoned black shirt which was tucked into a grey skirt that reached up to my ankles and waist length jacket over it to fight the cold.


    In my defence, I was really tired!


    "Are you really okay? You look like you will fall dead any moment now¡­"


    I lamented to myself. She was already trying so hard to fit into her role. And now my sleepy self was making her babysit me and turn her attention towards me when it clearly should''ve been towards the mission.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "I am, I am. Totally fine. Don''t worry about me so much." I patted her head. Her hair was smooth to touch. So much that if I placed it on the side, it might just slip off.


    She pouted. "I am not a kid, you know!" She retorted.


    Ah, must be the head pats.


    Since she was half a head shorter than me, resting my hand and patting it was comfortably nice.


    A lopsided grin appeared on my lips as I tapped her head again. "Well, you just joined, so you are a kid to me. Besides¡­" I stopped and winked at her. "¡­I am older than you."


    "Hey, no fair!" She retorted, trying to push my hand away from her head. "It''s only a year!"


    As I laughed it off, my mind wandered off again, split into the jolly present and the dark past. "Sometimes one year is a lot." I spoke, my voice trailing off towards the end.


    Before Yuki could say anything, a piercing light invaded our senses.


    As we walked out of the last shortcut, our eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in light and the first thing that caught your eye was the famous "Glico Running Man" sign.


    The enormous, brightly lit billboard of an athlete in mid-sprint shone brilliantly, casting a kaleidoscope of colours onto the bridge and the canal below.


    "Do you know of that bridge?" Yuki asked, holding at the back of my sleeve.


    Smiling at her supportive gesture, I shook my head. "I have heard about this canal¡­" I pointed towards the narrow canal, "¡­but I don''t know about the bridge."


    Yuki hopped in excitement as she got ahead of me and started to walk in reverse while facing me, causing her modestly sized chest to bounce erratically. She was quite well-endowed.


    For her age.


    "Well, that bridge is called Ebisubashi Bridge. Unlike right now it is always crowded with people taking photos, and since the water is super clean, the reflections in the water¡ª"


    She then started to talk about various things related to this place. The lightings induced a kind of a sensory overload and I peeled my eyes away from the buildings that attracted my attention and spent the next few minutes looking downwards.


    Animated displays and large screens played commercials, music videos, and advertisements to no one. They just functioned like another cog in a perpetually functioning machine. The water of the canal mirrored the neon lights, creating a surreal, almost dreamlike environment.


    The city was eerily silent. Most of the shops were empty, and shutters covered their entrances.


    Most of the people had evacuated. This Frontier in particular was dormant, showing no fluctuations in readings. But since the increase in ambient Arcanum led to forced awakenings and eventual deaths as well due to their hearts exploding, this area which was closest to it was what was emptied.


    There were still a few houses inhibited by a few people.


    Normal people, families¡­ and thugs.


    Since it was mostly empty, they were treating this place as their kingdom.


    Police have been trying to catch them but the looming threat of the Frontier suddenly opening limited their capabilities.


    I was still looking downwards and Yuki was explaining different things.


    However, my mind was still fixed on something we had talked about just a few moments ago.


    Sometimes one year is a lot.


    What had happened to Arthur?


    When he suddenly left home for a city miles away from home?


    Why did his father allow him to leave? Even when he was 12? I mean, it is quite understandable since it is Arthur we are talking about after all! But still, the question remains. Why?


    Did something happen to Arthur in Hammerfest?


    Or was he sent there because something happened to him?


    A few dozen possibilities spun in my mind, the gears turning and shifting. Nothing made much sense.


    A fleeting notion shone like the only star in the sky veiled behind the sheen of pollution.


    The girl, Astrid.


    Perhaps she did something to him? If a little bit of what Arthur said was true, it is quite possible. She manifested an Arcane Art as soon as her Primary Node awakened for crying out loud!


    What''s stopping her from doing something so devious that Arthur changed this much!?


    Strange.


    Very strange.


    I clipped my nails together in annoyance, an act I thought I had left behind three years ago.


    It was really something to ponder at.


    He was not social, yes, and he was unable to express himself properly. But he was never like¡­ this. Not this empty husk of his past self.


    Why¡­just why?


    Why did I have to lose him like this?


    It was infuriating. Agonisingly so.


    I almost cursed out loud as my ears caught the sound of Yuki speaking and I sealed my lips.


    As we turned down a narrow side street, we entered what Yuki referred to as Hozenji Yokocho.


    The quaint, stone-paved alleyway offered a stark contrast to the neon chaos of Dotonbori.


    Traditional lanterns hung from the eaves of the buildings, casting a warm, inviting glow. A series of izakayas (Japanese pubs) lined the alley.


    "Hahhh¡­ I could really use a drink right now." I shook my head.


    "We can have some Sake once we are done here." Yuki clasped her hands together. "Oh, we should get some octopus on the way back as well!"


    "Sure." I replied curtly.


    At the end of the alley was Hozenji Temple.


    The temple''s moss-covered statue of Fudo Myo-o stood out.


    "Was this your ancestor?" I asked, pointing out at the statue.


    She looked at it and then looked away, her hair frolicking. "Hmph! Probably a Mudblood." She spoke with a crease of her nose.


    The Seven Syndicates did not always have a means of communicating. In this era, communication was easy, and due to the technology distributed to everyone, it was easy to pinpoint people. In mediaeval times, there was no technology to spot people with Arcanum.


    Hence, there were cases where Arcanum users were revered as Gods and later temples were made in their names.


    Well mostly it was just rogue members of Syndicates. Olvasens had a lot of people who diverged from the whole purpose of staying discreet and turned themselves into objects of worship. Norse Mythology. Most of them are just Olvasens.


    The image of Arthur wearing the same clothes as Zeus and holding a thunderbolt flashed into the back of my mind.


    A warm blush extended on my face as I shook my head a few times.


    "Maria? What are you doing?"


    "Eep!" I almost squealed and then peered over my shoulder to the back. "Eh, nothing. Hehe. Don''t mind me."


    Yuki suddenly grinned, the corner of her lips reaching to her ears. "Hohoho, are you perhaps thinking about someone?" She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps someone special? Someone near and dear~?"


    Near and dear¡­ huh?


    The creeping warmth didn''t help me as my mind went blank. "N-No. Not at all."


    AHHH! I stuttered. That''s a dead giveaway. What am I even doing? Getting flustered over something that doesn''t even have any relation to anything in reality.


    "You''re not being very convincing here, Maria chan~" She gripped my shoulder and pulled me down, cooing in an oddly elfin voice.


    Taking a deep breath before talking and calming my nerves, I replied. "It''s nothing. As I told you."


    She narrowed her big red eyes, and then laughed, her dulcet voice echoing through the empty roads. "Teasing you is so much fun." She spoke, poking her finger into my cheek.


    Her eyes suddenly turned dark. "You''re blushing."


    Pulling the muffler up, I spoke through it. "It''s just the warmth."


    "Praise the Lord!"


    "Praise the Lord!"


    "Praise the Lord!"


    "Praise the Lord!"


    The sound of a string of prayers and the smell of petroleum and ash broke the chain of continuous teasing from Yuki.


    As we collectively turned our heads towards the source of voice, we saw a group of around 50 people, laying down on their bellies. Their foreheads were touching the ground and their hands were clasped in a praying gesture over their heads as they continued mumbling some inaudible things.


    "What is that?" I asked, tilting my head to get a better view of their lip movement.


    Yuki removed her arms from me and flicked her hair back. "I have no idea, actually¡­" She spoke with an uncomfortable pause. "¡­I never heard of such a religious group or people who pray like this. Not in Japan. Or anywhere in Asia as far as I am aware."


    "Yeah, me too." I replied, keeping my eyes at them.


    Ahead of the laying, prostrating figures of the people was the road that stretched for around 50 feet.


    Cars lined the roadside, each one ablaze with roaring flames. The fire crackled and hissed, sending up tongues of flames that danced wildly in the shadows against the buildings.


    Thick, black smoke billowed from the burning vehicles which curled and twisted into the sky. The air was filled with the acrid stench of burning metal and rubber, and the heat from the inferno-ish could be felt even from where we were standing.


    The tires let out an occasional pop as more and more gas burnt.


    Guessing from the state of the cars they had not been put on fire for a long time. Just recently.


    What are the authorities doing?


    "Seriously, these stupid police and army!" As if reading my thoughts, Yuki complained with a frown.


    Not replying to her and keeping my focus on them, I followed the direction in which they were bowing. Far ahead, hidden beneath the shroud of black clouds was the Frontier. Its translucent sheen hummed with a subtle static of Arcanum.


    I looked back at the people.


    "Worshipping something that could spawn thousands, if not hundreds of what had appeared in Tokyo." Yuki exclaimed in a condescending way. "They are Foulborns for a reason."


    An uncomfortable feeling lodged itself into the back of my mind. I was not really used to hearing the word too much. Since even my father, Rafael Miranda, rarely uses it.


    "Desperate times." I whispered. It wasn''t intended for Yuki to hear¡ªalbeit she heard it anyways¡ªnor was it something like a mental note. It was more like an agreement to their situation. As if I understood them.


    It was wrong. Because people lost faith in our patron Gods and turned them into ridicule-worthy folklores, our world is now at such a threat. But even then, I can''t bring myself to blame them.


    It is not theirs, but our fault.


    There were so many ways Arcanum could''ve been monopolised without just uprooting the mere memory of Arcanum. It was saddening. But this was our reality now.


    "But this is just stupid." Yuki voiced, her fingers twitching.


    Leaving the worshippers there, we walked over to the Frontier''s surface.


    Its surface was pulsating but there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was still dormant. I placed my hand over it and it crackled, making me withdraw my hand immediately afterwards.


    "What was that?"


    "I¡­ don''t know."


    It was confusing. I had this thought for a while now.


    The Frontier in Seoul had not manifested. Not yet.


    How did Arthur go inside? Did he brute force his way into it?


    No, that doesn''t sound like him. Michael perhaps?


    "Are you thinking what I am thinking?" I spoke out loud, turning my head towards Yuki.


    She placed her index fingers on her temples, twirling it as she tried to put pressure on her mind. After a while of pressing her fingers into her temples, she opened her eyes as she had suddenly understood everything. "Yep!"


    Good to know she understood without me telling her. Even her elder sister was like this. Well, it was also because we were childhood friends but I never needed to explain things twice to her.


    "Nothing. I got nothing!" She added, throwing her hands up in surrender.


    Eheh¡­maybe not.


    Clearing my throat, I started to voice out my thoughts.


    "I was just wondering¡­ how did Arthur go inside it? I felt like my hand would burn away when I touched it. And the Seoul Frontier has not even manifested."


    She tilted her head. "Now that you mention it¡­maybe they broke through it?"


    "It''s not possible." I replied and brought my finger upward. "Take a step back."


    Yuki nodded and hopped a few steps back. The people behind us were still laying down, muttering different phrases like "Praise the Lord" and "We await your arrival."


    Ignoring them, I focused on the Arcanum inside my body.


    The Arcanum spilled from my primary node and into the mould inside my brain, powering up the Arcane Art. I felt my eyes glow, followed by a sudden clarity in my sight.


    The few joules of stored-up energy manifested like a blue ball made of ethereal aura over my index finger. Tendrils of pure, stored potential energy swirled, moving towards the epicentre and increasing its radius.


    Arcanum shaped the energy like a careful parent scooping their baby and placing them in a cradle as it formed a perfect sphere.


    Pointing it at the Frontier, it shot like a bullet. Leaving a thin column of blue behind it, it whirred towards the dome before colliding with it and dispersing. I tried to reach out for the energy that formed the sphere but it had already been absorbed by the dome and disintegrated, rendering me unable to make it mine again.


    "That was a waste of precious energy." I mumbled.


    "Maybe we just need more force." Yuki spoke as she stood straight.


    Arcanum spilled out of her and her hair that rested on her shoulder rose up. Her eyes started to glow in a lighter shade of red as her irises flicked in every direction at a pace that looked no more than a blur. After a few seconds, her hair fell back on her shoulders and she shook her head.


    "There are no¡­odd of us in succeeding to go inside." She whispered.


    I was about to talk but she spoke again. "And even when it''s not dormant, we can''t go in."


    Then how did they¡­?


    "Perhaps either of them have something? Something we don''t know? An artefact perhaps?"


    I shook my head. "The Whites would rather share them with us, or just totally break them than share with Olvasens. At least Mr. Lawrence is like that."


    Throughout the multiple centuries, it has always been a looming threat.


    A full-blown clash between Whites and Olvasens.


    It wasn''t "exactly" because of hatred but rather the competition at the top. That was what caused constant sparks to fly between them. It has grown mild a lot over the past 200 years or so with none of them falling into a physical altercation due to the suspicious rise in Arcanum levels and the weakening of the seal.


    But it still doesn''t change the fact that before the 1800''s, most of the deaths amongst Whites and Olvasens resulted from skirmishes. And while the main families had some sort of dignity to maintain, branches never hesitated into tearing each other apart.


    "Hmmm. I guess we will have to wait." She took a weary breath. "If they return alive, that is. Which I don''t think is possible."


    "Arthur will return back." I blurted without thinking, my voice ringing in the stillness of the approaching night. Realising what I had done, I added. "And Michael."


    She grinned, and nudged me with her elbow. "Is that how it actually is?"


    An unknowing warmth crept up my face again but I kept my features as flat as a stone. "You are reading too much into it."


    Yuki pouted and looked away, mumbling something to herself before turning back to me. "We should go back. It''s not like this place is going to be subjected to Merger any time soon."


    "We still need to get a rough estimate of the ''second dome'' or ''shimmer'' that will surround the Frontier. Seoul one was 10 times the size of Frontier."


    "Hahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh¡­" She breathed out aggressively, before latching herself on to me.


    Her arms snaked mine as she rubbed her cheek against it. "Let''s go hooomme~ I don''t want to do thissss~"


    I guess we can take turns babysitting each other.


    Hehe.


    Patting her head¡ªwhich she didn''t deny this time¡ªwe moved towards the Frontier to estimate its size. I also left a message for the authorities to evacuate the practitioners as well. Since this whole ''magical'' process can''t be trusted.


    But I still couldn''t remove this gnawing feeling from my head.


    Is Arthur actually ok? Is he alive¡­?


    I mentally reprimanded myself.


    He has to be. He has to be.


    I repeated in my mind, as if doing it will bring that reality to fruition.


    Should I go there? Go to the Seoul Frontier?


    I have a really bad feeling about all of this. Somehow.

 37: Reconnaissance - â… 

    Astrid Aalto:


    My guts seemed to flip out and a sickening, sour-bitter taste crept upwards, pressing against the back of my throat.


    It felt like a block of lead had been placed on my body as I felt my entire body slump.


    The bitterness of the bile rising up only intensified and the realm of dark emptiness ¨C¨C that I had entered after ripping the seal open only for a little while so I could go through it ¨C¨C receded, like a blanket being forcefully snatched away after a restless night''s sleep.


    I fell on my knees, the leggings doing little to cushion my fall as it gave away as well and my hands automatically moved to support my body from falling face first.


    The small stones dug into my palms. The sharp yelp that was about to leave my lips was submersed by a raucous, gagging voice which surprised even me.


    My body convulsed before doubling over.


    Placing a trembling hand over my mouth, I dragged my body that felt like a lifeless sack to the edge of the place where I had landed and my stomach heaved uncontrollably.


    The thick and acrid stench that rose from it didn''t help as I¡ªsubmitting myself to this fate¡ªretched forcefully again, unable to contain the roiling nausea within me.


    The world around me spun for a few fleeting seconds in an abhorrent blur, blowing away the dull ache in my palm.


    A few laboured breaths escaped me and I felt my chest heave up and down uncontrollably. My tongue felt heavy and I didn''t dare to move it as well.


    Like a blind person searching for his cane, my hands flailed on the gravely surface of the ground beneath me, searching for the only thing I had managed to bring with myself. A bottle of water.


    The crunch of the bottle''s plastic as the wind moved it against the rough, jagged surface was awfully loud due to the silence that plagued the air and like a moth to a flame, I crawled over to it.


    Overjoyed, I picked it up and opened it. Drinking it all in one go, I let out a deep breath.


    Only after a few minutes of silence, rest and drowning the haunting panic from my mind, was when I realised that I had been teleported.


    To a world, even until now, I had considered it was nothing more than mere fantasy. A mere figment of a talented author''s imagination. But it was real. All of it.


    And Eden of all places. A liturgical place mentioned only in some damned religions or folklores.


    A biblical place. It is more impactful if you consider it from the point of view of someone who has been atheist until a year or so ago.


    "My whole life has been a lie!" I tried to humour myself, my trembling voice my sole companion.


    Aside from ¨C of course ¨C the eerie whispers of the wind which made me get more conscious of my surroundings.


    I crawled back without standing up. I did so until my back painfully hit the jagged surface of a mountain''s surface.


    I suddenly miss wearing heavy clothes. Since it wasn''t exactly too hot in Seoul, I had to improvise. Not like I took the advantage of the malls being abandoned.


    ¡­Nay! Not at all!


    Letting my head rest against it, I breathed in and then from the corner of his raised platform atop some mountain type structure, I looked down.


    Scratch ''mountain type'' structure, it is definitely a mountain.


    Like a firefly, something was burning in a far distance and smoke was rising upwards, forming a dense swirl of smoke and a parrot-green aura hung like a half-manifested aurora all over the place that was located amidst a giant crater of sorts.


    Stolen story; please report.


    For some reason this kind of fantasy world almost had a subtle grandeur that seemed almost tangible, yet grounded in a semblance of reality. And while it would be an utter lie to say that I was not expecting castles made of gold and myself to arrive in front of an adventurer''s guild, I was certainly not expecting to land in the middle of¡­ ruins?


    I guess ruins would be the perfect way to describe this place.


    I pushed my head back and then willed my strength into my entire body.


    The process of¡ªfor the lack of better words¡ªteleportation had surely left an undeniable mark on me.


    Well mark is an exaggeration in all senses of the world; however, it rendered me so weak that I was unable to walk.


    Geez. Like what in the name of everything unholy was that?


    When I opened the small tear in the Frontier''s entrance, I was pulled in like a vacuum sucking in the dirt.


    My body felt like it was being stretched and twisted, kinda like when you spin around too fast. The disorienting, dizzying sensation of my entire being feeling like a rubber across dimensions was most likely what made me feel a tad queasy.


    The place I was in before I was spat out like a chewing gum was really dark. Like super dark. And funky. All that existed in that place was me and my bungee gum-like existence.


    A giggle escaped my lips at my own thoughts. I was proud of that reference.


    Mentally patting myself at the effort, I gave myself a few moments of respite before finally realising the grave situation I was in.


    I was basically isekai''d here and now I was stranded. Arthur was gone for three days. So, it''s safe to assume he''s three days away.


    ¡­


    A moment of silence washed like a hundred years over me, followed by a realisation.


    ARGH!


    Why didn''t I think of it beforehand? Of course he''d be three days away from here. Given the fact he''s much faster than me as well. He''d be so far away I''d be captured by someone before I even see him.


    I actually want to cry now.


    Stupid Astrid!


    As if it was going to make me feel a little less dumb, I punched my own head.


    Uuu¡­ what am I supposed to do now?


    Something crackled and the black swirl in the sky suddenly dissipated as a streak of white-blue arched through the sky.


    I wasn''t a religious person, but given the current situations and having the reality of them being real slapped into my face, I clasped my hands together¡ªalthough begrudgingly¡ªand closed my eyes and prayed to whatever deity might be up there.


    "I wish I could meet Arthur already!"


    Much to my own surprise, my voice came out so loud it jolted me awake from my "prayer" stance.


    As the streak of blue in the sky, a shooting star presumably, vanished, silence descended. And in that silence, a wave of embarrassment washed over me.


    What am I even doing? Praying to a shooting star!?


    Arthur would definitely make fun of me if he saw me like thi¡ª


    My thoughts were halted midway as the "shooting star" that had faded away into the night sky arched backwards.


    Bruh.


    Goosebumps rose over the entirety of my body and my hair stood on edge. My feet flailed and I tried to stand up and jump away from the incoming meteorite. However, my body felt oddly heavy. It wasn''t a lack of strength or the fact that I had hurled my guts out.


    No, it was something much more tangible.


    I felt my eyes brighten up ¨C not due to happiness but due to the sparkle of the incoming meteor-like projectile ¨C as the meteor got so close to me that my entire life flashed in front of my eyes.


    The little happy moments with my parents that I had decided to keep with me and then the next sequence of memories went by in a static blur which then continued from the time I met Arthur.


    Ever since I had met him, my life has been nothing but joy with an odd pinch of mysteriousness.


    It was nice staying alive.


    As I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the incoming object, my mind wandered to something. Perhaps dinosaurs felt the same as me.


    Hopeless.


    It was sad. Not because I was going to flipping die to a meteor but because I have been useless all this time. In the end I was of no use to Arthur. Other than maybe picking up his clothes and cleaning after him since he doesn''t have any manners.


    Geez.


    A dry laugh escaped my lips.


    I should think more about myself.


    As the meteor inched closer, it suddenly curved and the blue tail behind it vanished instantly. As if suspended in time, it stayed airborne for a while before completely losing all momentum and falling off into the wide cliff beneath the platform that I was sitting on.


    With a blank mind that was unable to discern whether to be happy or even more baffled than I already was, I stood up gingerly and slowly walked over to the edge.


    Arcanum had already coated my hands, head and chest.


    "Fuuu." I let out a muffled breath, trying not to make a single sound.


    And then something lunged forward.


    What seemed like a fluffy ball of white fluttered and the next thing I knew was a pair of golden eyes staring right into my own.


    I didn''t have the time to even let out a voice of surprise as a hand pressed against my face and then I was falling down. The grip tightened, however, the brittle touch suddenly vanished before a small gust of Arcanum supported my body from behind, breaking my fall.


    The light from my own Arcanum protecting my body illuminated my attacker''s face.


    Messy, crimson stained white hair stuck to the mud-caked face of a boy whose face was almost as sharp as Arthur''s. The constant smirk on his face was replaced by a worried frown and his eyes immediately stopped glowing.

 38: Reconnaissance - â…¡

    Messy, crimson stained white hair stuck to the mud-caked face of a boy whose face was almost as sharp as Arthur''s. The constant smirk on his face was replaced by a worried frown and his eyes immediately stopped glowing.


    "What are you doing here?" He asked quizzically, pulling my back to my feet.


    However, his words seemed to enter one ear and escape out of the other.


    "Where''s Arthur?" I asked, getting a little uncomfortable.


    "Oh yeah, he-" he looked back and then down the cliff. "-he''s about to die."


    The nonchalance in his voice made me double take on what he said.


    "He what?"


    "He''s dying. Are you deaf or something?" He grumbled and then jumped off the cliff.


    Wait, wait, wait.


    Arthur? He''s dying?


    This has to be a joke, right?


    Someone like Arthur can''t be-


    The denial of a thought where Arthur can be pushed into a dying spot became almost impossible as Michael jumped back up with Arthur, his arm flung around Michael''s neck.


    I didn''t need sunlight or some major light source to tell what was wrong with him.


    His entire body was bleeding. His hair was dishevelled, the neat curtains that were parted in the middle before he left now messy and sticking with blood to his face.


    "Make way." Michael grunted as he dragged Arthur.


    I was petrified in place. I couldn''t move.


    A gnawing sense of an icy claw gripping my heart made me shudder and broke the silent stillness that I was imprisoned in. I stole a glance back.


    The back of Arthur''s white shirt was stuck to his skin via a huge red blotch that covered almost the entirety of his back. And beyond that cut in fabric was his wound.


    A sheen of golden aura was enveloping the deep gash, putting further emphasis on the moving, slimy, sticky thingy that stuck to his wound.


    Creepy! What the hell is that?


    Arthur slipped against the wall and then took a knife out. The knife turned squishy and then coiled like a ring around his index finger.


    "Arthur¡­" I tried calling out for him, like I used to. However, the golden aura that made his features visible rendered me silent. His skin always had been pale, and pristine. To an extent that it made even girls around him in our school envious.


    However, right now, in this moment, it was far from the one they envied.


    He looked like a¡ªGod forbid¡ªcorpse.


    His eyes were unfocused as he his head dizzily wobbled sideways before shaking and locking his pale eyes on me.


    "I see you''ve gotten a change of clothes." He spoke through clenched teeth and a forced smile, his voice oddly meek.


    He was never a boisterous person, however, the way he talked was enchanting. It was humble, yet it wasn''t subservient to anyone. Defiance and humbleness were an odd mix; however, he wore that timber like a glove.


    And exactly due to that, hearing him talk in such a powerless way made a tremour of pain go through my chest.


    "Arthur¡­" was all I managed to reply with.


    "Oh God, not this romance anime reunion. For fuck''s sake, do something. If you can''t then¡­" he paused for a quick second, "¡­I don''t know, jump off the cliff and kill yourself!"


    The urge to talk back to this brat welled up in me, but seeing Arthur in such a state drowned out the thought. Disregarding him, I crouched down.


    "What happened to you?" I asked, trying to reach out for him. Placing my hand on his knee, I inched a little closer, hoping to touch his face.


    It was a childish impulse, I knew, but even now I was having a hard time believing Arthur was in such a state.


    As my hand inched closer, he jerked back, albeit subtly and my hand recoiled on instinct. His chest rose up, stayed like that for a while as he watched me with wide eyes, before slowly breathing out and looking down.


    "I need your help." He spoke, his voice slightly quivering.


    "Y-Yeah." As if tripping over their feet, my words came out much more jumbled than I had intended them to be, even though it was just a word. I shifted, removing my hand from his knee as painfully pulled himself and sat straight against the wall where I had taken rest after throwing my guts out.


    Arthur turned on his side and started to unbutton his shirt. "I need you to remove the symbiote from my wound."


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


    His words turned the gears in my mind, but they failed to make sense of anything.


    "Symbiote? Like the black spiderman?"


    "That''s what I was thinking."


    Surprisingly, for the first time, I could agree with this unbearable guy.


    The world must be ending!


    Realising it was not the time to brood over movies and references to them, I coughed awkwardly and mentally sent a note to myself to stay focused. Looking back at Arthur, he was exchanging a deadpan look between me and Michael, before raising his brows and shaking his head.


    "Uh, as I was saying." He spoke after an uncomfortable pause. "The infection in my wounds. It''s alive." He spoke through another strained breath.


    I tried to get close to him, however, just like every time before, he shook his head and raised his hand.


    "I don''t know what he did¡ª" he paused and then looked up at Michael, as if realising something, "¡ªmost likely a contractual vow with their God. Maybe¡­ Its output was decreased in exchange for the flames to become alive. Might be more since its never a fair deal¡­"


    "I don''t understand." I managed to speak amidst the mumbo jumbo that was my mind. Thoughts and ideas of different natures tangled with each other, overlapping, branching, and soon enough I was not only miles away from the answer I searched for in his question, but I had totally lost track of the original thought. "But there are no flames."


    "Intangible concept." Arthur''s breath strained as he tossed his shirt over Michael. The shirt landed over his face.


    However, much to my own surprise, he only inhaled sharply through his nose before slowly removing it and holding it in his hand.


    "Flames burn you. The symbiote is burning my skin and everything on the inside." His index finger started to glow. Before I could make sense of the cryptic yet simplistic wording, he stabbed the Arcanum imbued finger in his back, over his shoulder.


    A small spark of azure lightning cracked and then went inside, like a worm digging its way down, writhing its body along the way.


    "The process will be slowed from the lightning." He then looked up at me. "Rest is up to you."


    I stood there for a while, his words echoing inside my ears.


    "But Arthur¡­" I was at a loss for words. "¡­I can''t. I don''t know how this whole symbiote thing works, or what even the physiology of it is about."


    "Then brute¡­ force it. I¡ªwe don''t have much time. Since it is alive and is about to eat away at my organs, it''s also connected to Ed. He''ll find us as soon as he is in range."


    Michael shifted and turned around. Without looking back, he spoke.


    "I''ll be on the lookout. Don''t fuck it up, girl. You have one job."


    Saying that he walked to the edge in a dramatic fashion and then jumped off.


    I slowly turned around.


    The night was bright, and the moon was right above our heads. It looked much larger, much closer than ours. And the light it casted was dull. Again, in a total contrast to ours. As if the sun that was illuminating it was unable to totally lighten it up.


    Taking a determined step towards Arthur who was now laying on his stomach, I walked over to him.


    As I sat beside him, I wasted no breath and started to use Arcanum.


    I didn''t have much knowledge about Arcanum. I mean, I did, but not as much as Arthur. Or perhaps anyone who was a member of this whole secret family Syndicates thing. My usage of Arcane Arts was very intrinsic. Based on intuition.


    He said I had a talent for magic.


    As I focused on Arthur''s back and my magic illuminated his pale back, I was finally able to see.


    While the skin on the back is typically thicker, and there is usually more subcutaneous fat and muscle tissues there, not allowing any visible vision of the network of veins, it was a much different case for Arthur.


    A lot of branched veins that seemed to sprout from each other, like the roots of a seedling had turned black and were now closer to the skin, pulsing. As if alive.


    I mean, blood flow makes it look alive. However, it was like totally charcoal black. As if his veins had been burned.


    It must hurt.


    A tremour went across my chest.


    He must be in so much pain.


    With my hand aglow, I slowly reached out for his back.


    A searing hot, golden aura manifested only for a fleeting second before vanishing as Arthur immediately looked back. "Are you hurt?" The worry etched on his face made it look like he didn''t have supposedly alive, alien, symbiotic flames inside him, eating away at his organs.


    "I''m fine. Turn around and don''t look back again." I reprimanded, keeping my timber sharp and castigating, but only to a reasonable extent.


    "Hmm." He hummed in response and turned his head away.


    His body was trembling and burning with high fever.


    Or perhaps it was the flames.


    He always had this subtle aversion to direct skin-to-skin touch.


    I helped him a lot in his chores, however, over these past 2 years, I don''t remember accidently touching him and him not panicking over it. Almost as if he has a phobia.


    I have to do this. Quickly and efficiently. In a way that his condition is cured and I don''t make him more uncomfortable than he already is.


    I let out a deep breath and then pressed my Arcanum imbued hands with all my might against his back.


    My Arcane Art¡ªalthough I don''t know much about it myself¡ªhas something to do with Sealing.


    I can seal most of the things.


    Rooms'' locks, crack in cupboards, broken walls. Formation of a tangible dome to seal things inside of them. Broken bones, torn muscles. Dislocations. Separations.


    And while I could only restore things, I could unseal as well.


    Even though I can''t do much as of now.


    Arthur once said since I was too passive, I only unlocked the support category of the applications of my Arcane Arts.


    But that wasn''t exactly right.


    Arthur always had this tendency to bring harm to himself. As I grew tired of him inflicting injuries on himself, I slowly, over the course of the past 2 years, unlocked multiple healing properties.


    My technique''s potency is directly proportional to my knowledge on the sealing and unsealing of the said object. If I want to correct a dislocated bone, I need to know about that joint. How it works. If it''s broken, I need to know exactly how it''s oriented and what its composition is.


    While it sounds hard, it gets easier over time since you can just cram the details provided by modern medical knowledge. However, something like this was very intricate.


    There are movies about such things, but these do not exist. There is no data or anything to go off of.


    My hands pressed forcefully against his back and I closed my eyes, my fingers feeling as if they''re sinking in a doughy amalgam of flesh brewing in flames. Almost as if it was losing its solid structure.


    Decaying.


    More and more Arcanum slipped from my primary node and a shaky gasp escaped me. I was a bit unnerved, however, I didn''t let it to overpower me.


    Like ushering students to fall in line during an assembly, I constricted the other pathways where any last bit of Arcanum could escape from and focused solely on pouring Arcanum into my hands. Reaching out for even the morsels, I reached out for them and poured them all into his back.


    The white sheen of my Arcanum sparked and fizzled against the black-grey symbiote. It writhed and hissed, as if threatening me. I almost recoiled, but I reminded myself that if movies'' logic applies, these can not attack me on their own. And I am sure Arthur won''t allow it to take over as well.


    Besides, the purpose of this was to disintegrate his organs.


    The revision of my thoughts made my hair stand on their edge.


    I remembered; Arthur can die. I have to hurry.


    Filtering out the thoughts from my mind, I, once again, focused on the task at hand.

 39: Reconnaissance - â…¢

    Filtering out the thoughts from my mind, I, once again, focused on the task at hand.


    I reached out deep, not into the blackened veins, not the muscles that were slowly breaking down and making his entire back bleed. But rather the leech point.


    It couldn''t sustain itself for long, I was sure of it.


    It must''ve lodged itself somewhere where it could slowly infect his entire body.


    As if reading my thoughts, Arthur''s crooked voice reached my ears. "It''s by the coccyx."


    "Human language, Arthur." I desperately cried out. How am I supposed to know what a coccyx is??


    "Tail¡­bone. Right over the tailbone."


    Without replying, I pressed my fingers even firmly as his body shuddered in pain once again, but he stayed silent.


    My Arcanum brightened up the inside of his back, slithering like a snake from the upper side of his spine, using it as a guide, before eventually reaching all the way to the bottom.


    Suddenly, my focus was shattered and my Arcanum retracted as a grey wisp burnt away at the slither I had formed.


    "W-What?"


    Arthur groaned. "I couldn''t maintain¡­ the spark." He spoke, out of breath. "Tell me when you are about to reach there."


    "O-Okayy¡­"


    Using the spine as a guide, once again, I reached out for the tailbone. I couldn''t put my hand right over there. It was where it had latched itself. Placing it right over him will most likely result in something that just happened.


    As it was about to reach the tailbone, I breathed out. "Arthur."


    A small spark of azure flared to life, jumping from between his fingers and then seeping into his skin. The dark azure mixed in with the bright glow of my own Arcanum, giving it a slight cerulean shade. The area above his tailbone turned into a vermillion patch.


    It was fighting the symbiote.


    Pushing all of my Arcanum at once, I reached out for it.


    It was like a snake fight. Two deadly snakes eating away at each other, and the one who eats the other one first wins. Arthur''s spark was dwindling, but it was fighting with sheer resilience, not allowing it to cause a hindrance to my work.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Expanding the Arcanum was not an arduous task. But the after effects were quite dangerous. Expanding it inside him was like forcefully forming a cyst. It would bring him pain, yes, but not more than he currently is in.


    "Hold on, Arthur." I called out to him, the drops of sweat stinging into my eyes. I forced them open, as wide as I could. The warm air and salty sweat made it feel like hot needles were being pricked into them.


    I expanded it. Like a cloth cover over a bowl. Not only from above, but underneath as well. Arthur''s spark fizzled away and then at the same time I pushed both sides.


    Like a python, I squeezed it from every direction. I felt my spell burn, like branding a hole into pure flesh.


    As my Arcanum continued to coil around it by forming a repeated loop, the pressure intensified, compressing the symbiote''s form.


    "URGH!" I grunted, pressing against it with all my might.


    It struggled but it couldn''t stop the deformation that had already begun. Its slime like form started to buckle and flatten, slowly but surely succumbing to the relentless compression, wrinkling and creasing.


    And then suddenly Arthur heaved out a deep breath as a grey-wispy smoke rose up from his back, and then dissipated into thin air.


    His blackened veins that bulged against his skin were enveloped into a mix of our golden and pure white sheens. A few fleeting seconds later, they began to sink back into the thin layer of muscle and fat. The blood loss was permanent but his wound that festered started to regenerate itself.


    As I willed more of the First Phase of my Arcane Arts, muscles sewed themselves back into place and the cut skin started to mend itself.


    Before long, his back was returned to how it used to be.


    It took a few seconds to notice though, but there was a thin black line stretched from his shoulder to his tailbone in a diagonal arc.


    A scar.


    I felt my heart drop, but was at least thankful he survived.


    "Arthur, it''s done." I called out to him.


    Perhaps it was childish of me to expect him to turn around and maybe- maybe compliment me. But he didn''t. I called out for him a few more times but he didn''t turn around.


    Hesitatingly, I reached out for his shoulder and then pulled him so his face was up.


    Arthur''s body rolled over to my side, his head landing on my lap. His eyes were shut and his lips were parted. But his chest rose and fell peacefully. He was ok.


    Brushing his hair back, I combed my fingers through them. They were dirty¡ªcaked with mud, grime and blood.


    "Mm-" He shifted, opening his eyes and then blinked. Before I knew it, he was asleep again.


    The realisation that he was shirtless and leaning against me dawned a bit too late on me and hit me a touch too hard as I suddenly stood up and his head fell on the ground.


    Crap!


    Panicking, I tried to look around, and then casted one sheepish look back at him. But he didn''t wake up.


    What''s wrong with me!? Almost gave him a concussion!


    My own face felt warm, as I tried to look for something soft to place underneath his head and to cover his body.


    "Just put a rock underneath that big head of his." I almost jumped with fright as I saw Michael leaning against the jagged wall, right beside Arthur. He threw a black piece of clothing at me. It was the shirt I had packed for him. "Found this in his bag."


    I picked it up but kept my eyes on him. They were at serious odds. He might be putting up a farce.


    "Thanks¡­"


    "Tsk. Whatever." He turned around and then stopped. "Just so you know I am here so don''t bother doing anything to an unconscious person."


    HUH!


    "Do you perhaps take me for someone such as yourself?" I retorted.


    "Hah! Weak comeback! Try again, kiddo, heh!" With an annoying, brattish chuckle, he walked with a wide stance, flailing his arms around.


    God this guy¡­ he pisses me off so much!

 40: Reconnaissance - â…£

    The night was almost over. The first few streaks of yellow had already marred the sky but the sun was yet to rise.


    Even now, it feels like I am in a fever dream.


    I was sitting on the edge of the small platform where I had healed Arthur.


    My feet dangled down. The bottom was quite a deep place with a whole lot of spikes and trees. I can''t call it a forest, of course, but there were quite a lot of them.


    I had imagined the sunrise to look a lot more beautiful in another world.


    And I was right.


    Or maybe it was because the horror and fright that I had experienced in the night regarding Arthur, the morning feels so much more blissful.


    Arthur was still asleep. He wasn''t wearing a shirt, but he was covered by his own spare clothes that formed a pile over him, hopefully keeping him warm.


    As I was lost in my thoughts, Michael slipped one foot and let it dangle downward and folded the other one underneath him, sitting by my side.


    His bun was let loose and the long, thick strands rested serenely on his shoulders.


    He didn''t say anything and kept his eyes straight in a thousand-yard stare, just looking at whatever was in front of him, or maybe even beyond. Without looking at me, he reached for the inside of his pocket and pulled out a small packet of biscuits.


    "Eat up."


    It felt more like an order than an act of kindness.


    "You can''t order me around." I huffed.


    He clicked his tongue and then grit his teeth. "Eat up." Although there was no change in words, his tone was much softer.


    Smirking internally at the win, I took it from his grasp.


    As the crinkling sound of opening the packet reached my ears, he spoke at the same time. "Why did you come here? It''s not because you miss your lover boy, do you?"


    I almost choked on the first piece of food I had eaten in so many hours. How can someone be so humanly annoying?


    But putting that aside, I TOTALLY FORGOT TO TELL THEM WHY I CAME HERE!


    Quickly swallowing the biscuit, I turned to him.


    I was about to speak when I looked down and then at the Grand Canyon-like structure that I had only seen in pictures, almost missing the cloud of dust approaching behind a large hill a few dozen miles away that started to cover the sky.


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


    "What''s that?" My own voice ringed in my ears.


    "It''s... too soon," Michael muttered.


    A gasp escaped my lips as I realised what it was.


    Michael frowned and casted a fleeting glance at me. "Tell me about why you are here later." With a panicked expression, he stood up. "Oh, fuck me!"


    I tried to look into the distance but a voice jolted me to look back.


    "The reconnaissance units are here, it seems"


    It was Arthur. He was slipping into his grey hoodie while walking towards us. Once he was around five steps away from us, he stopped, looked at me and smiled for a brief moment.


    "Good to see you, Astrid." Before I could reply, he turned his head to Michael. "Don''t say I didn''t tell you. You were too plastered at that time."


    "I am not." Michael grumbled. "But what does it mean? This isn''t supposed to happen. Why are these things here? It can''t be a coincidence. Right after last night."


    I was so confused. There were so many unanswered questions.


    Who was Ed? What are these things? What does he mean by scouts?


    "The Wujins we killed." Arthur started explaining. "They were gatekeeping hundreds of thousands, if not a million of them, behind the colosseum-like structure. They are going to use it to gauge our strengths and weaknesses before attacking Seoul." He paused, stroking his chin. "But there are still a few days before the Frontier opens up. It''s only been a day since we came here. Why now?"


    What is he talking about? It''s been 3 DAMNED days!


    "Arthur." I called out as he looked in my direction.


    Before I could talk, his eyes went wide. As if just realising my existence.


    "Why are you here? You are not supposed to be here." He mouthed, not talking out loud. The crease in his forehead evened out and he breathed shakily. "Temporal lag."


    "Huh?" Michael scowled.


    "How many days has it been, Astrid?" He asked. "Since we left?"


    "Three days."


    The ground beneath and the sky above rumbled as a giant wave of green started to fill the horizon.


    I took a frightened step back.


    Hundreds¡­thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of those abominations were filling the distant space and were rushing towards us.


    Arthur stepped in front of me and placed his foot on the edge.


    "Not sure if this is a declaration of war." He spoke, sending a shiver down my spine as Michael angrily stomped, placing his hands on his waist. "2 of us, against all of them."


    A gnawing sense of fear and morbid despair gripped at my insides.


    "Arthur, we can¡­ I can unseal the Frontier, I can-"


    He turned back, his features muddled by the shadow casted by the sun behind him.


    "Can you see the tangible dome beside you?" He asked, his voice brittle.


    I gulped and then looked back.


    "It was a small place to the eye in Seoul, but it''s actually a whole country. Continent even. They''ll catch up to us before we even reach the end of this dome."


    "Fuck, FUCK!" Michael''s fist collided into the wall as a crack went up its surface.


    "Don''t destroy the only good thing we have." Arthur spoke calmly as he took out a bandage and placed it over the wound underneath his eye. The one I had forgotten to heal. "We have to make a plan."


    "What plan? Those things are nothing, but I don''t think we would be in a condition for actual soldiers after dealing with a million of them! Not if the soldiers are like that bastard Ed. And I felt someone else too. Probably the ''Lord'' fella he mentioned about serving."


    Arthur shrugged. "Then we have to stay alive long enough and hope for external help." He paused, and his tongue made a bump into his cheek. "Or you''ll die trying."


    "Huh? You? Have you lost your last brain cell?"


    Arthur looked away, glancing at the incoming wave as the sun continued its ascent.


    "We. I meant; we die trying."


    A chilling sensation gripped at me.


    Somehow¡­ I had a very bad feeling about what he said.

 41: Slipstream - â… 

    Arthur Olvasen POV:


    "TAKE A SLOW BREATH, YOU DUMB FUCK! YOU''RE NOT A DAMN PANTING DOG!"


    "I AM TRYING! DON''T SCREAM AT ME!!"


    "THEN WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING AT ME, YOU MUDBLOOD?"


    "BECAUSE I CAN''T STAND YOUR SCREAMING ALL THE TIME, MUDFACE!"


    "THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!"


    The loud banter between Michael and Astrid caused me to stir and shift in my place as I pulled the hood of my hoodie over my head and pulled it down until it covered my eyes.


    The bluish light of the moon permeated through the small gap as I tried to snap my eyes shut and get at least one or two hours of sleep. Or at least until the condition developed further.


    The gravelly ground beneath me was broomed once, removing the small pointy stones, but it was still a bit uncomfortable to sleep on.


    I turned around and faced the other way, trying to let go of all of my heightened senses and somehow just drift to sleep.


    There was a certain chill in the air as I wrapped my hands around my body and tried to warm myself.


    Since deserts tend to be quite cold in the nights, this one was no different. I had to rub my arms every now and then to keep hold of the fleeting warmth. To not let it escape me.


    Albeit insignificant, hot jolts of pain coursed through my limbs as my body burned with fever.


    It wasn''t really accurate to call it a fever, but that was the closest term I could come up with to describe the current state that my body was in.


    Any immediate danger to my life was already mitigated, thanks to Astrid. However, the natural healing process of my body was quite sluggish.


    Or perhaps it was just the looming threat that made the progress seem to move forward at a snail''s pace.


    Contrary to Mudbloods'' imagination and folklore, magic is not as convenient as it is described to be. I had never thought about its implications but now that we were in a life-and-death scenario, I could understand it.


    One might think that if Astrid could remove such a dangerous symbiote that was infesting my spine and slowly burning my nerves, why can''t she get rid of the fever and other little complications in my body?


    The short answer is simple and straightforward. And that is, ''Magic isn''t convenient.''


    While healing people is a rare Arcane Art¡ªeven though Astrid''s healing is a byproduct of the actual thing¡ªit has its own set of involutions.


    A simple example would be how some bodybuilders ¡ª when they need to grow muscles beyond the natural potential of a human ¡ª inject testosterones into their bodies. While doing so makes them look big, strong, and powerful, their body loses the ability to produce it naturally. Resulting in long lasting complications.


    It was the same for healing.


    Repeated usage could result in a slowed immune system and eventually, total failure of it. It''s possible that if one exploited the power of healing too much, their body would end up so weak, internally, that no wound would heal without external aid.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    This is what Adam ¡ª and before him, the Gods ¡ª referred to as Equivalent Exchange.


    To gain something, one had to lose something of equal value. Equal worth.


    Sometimes more.


    Exceeding one''s physical or magical limit required these strict stipulations.


    On the other hand, unlike me, Astrid could use her own healing at herself without worrying about the ramifications. Since it''s a direct derivative of an ''application'' of her Arcane Arts, it won''t have side-effects on her.


    "JUST GRAB A HOLD OF AMBIENT ARCANUM, SHOVE IT IN YOUR PRIMARY NODE, AND BOOM. IT''S DONE. HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!!!"


    "WHAT ON UNHOLY EARTH IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN, HUH!?"


    I shifted in place again and heard Astrid let out a yelp as she heard the faint rustle of the blanket I had made from leaves and a few branches.


    "You''re going to wake him up."


    "It''s your fault for being dumb! Why the fuck am I even teaching you anything? Die. Kill yourself."


    For some reason, the whispering conversation between Astrid and Michael was even more disturbing than their screams.


    After we had spotted the Wujin army charging in our direction, we decided to relocate to a higher place. But for some reason, they started to march back. It seems like they will attack again once they think we have dropped our guard.


    When they fell back, Astrid started to bleed from her ears.


    It was Arcanum overload.


    Due to her body entering a biome that had an unusual amount of Arcanum, contrary to the one where she had spent all her life, it couldn''t handle it and induced internal bleeding. It was the same aspect as people having their hearts exploding upon awakening.


    However, since she could do basic augmentation, she pulled through.


    Due to my body''s poor state, Michael ¡ª surprisingly ¡ª decided to tutor her about how to control the influx and outflux of Arcanum without having her heart explode.


    And while I don''t doubt Michael''s talent in Arcanum manipulation, his methods of teaching are¡­well, I don''t think I need to explain.


    He has an intrinsic sense for it. Since he expects everyone to know this, he has cursed at Astrid more than he has taught. After a few hours, she snapped and the two of them turned into two animals, growling at each other and scratching each other''s faces at every provided chance.


    Metaphorically, might I add. Of course.


    I wasn''t exactly against it since Astrid had been sheltered until now ¡ª at least for the past 2 years ¡ª this kind of exposure might be good. Even Astrid knows that being a mean nincompoop is what Michael''s personality is, hence I don''t think the cursing would bring any bad memories.


    The problem is that this "alleged" tongue-in-cheek persiflage was rendering me unable to get even a second''s worth of sleep. They started slow, but as Astrid struggled to understand Michael''s ''Boom, bam, woomp'' explanation, the verbal insults kept getting more and more severe.


    Throwing the makeshift blanket away and removing the hood from my head, I sat up.


    "Oh, hey Arthur. Good morning." Astrid looked in my direction, the frown dissipating as she beamed at me. Clasping her hands together in front of her, she tilted her head and rested her cheek on them, smiling. "I hope you had a good few hours of sleep."


    As I stretched my neck to the side, it let out a crack.


    "Totally." I replied without looking at them as they still sat at the edge of the platform like place.


    "Don''t be a burden." Michael chimed in, his voice causing my head to ache.


    "Yeah." I merely agreed. I was in no mood to argue with someone as persistent and so obtusely doltish as him. Not when the headache was making it feel like I have a hole in the side of my cranium.


    The darkness of the night was pierced by the blue light of the moon as my gaze swept over the potential battlefield. There was no sight of the Wujins. For now, at the very least.


    For the first time since coming to Eden, we were finally exploring the place where we had landed and spent the most time in.


    Behind the platform we were on was the 40 metres tall remaining part of the mountain. The peak was jagged and the tip was cut off, broken in a zig-zag line.


    Be it right or left; everywhere we saw behind us was just a series of mountains. These mountains formed a natural wall. If someone were to attack this place from somewhere beyond here, they would have no visual or idea of what''s on the other side.


    Each mountain was around 20,000 feet tall on average. Most of them were barren ones, however, a few of them ¨C located in the near distance underneath a thick, dense congregation of clouds ¨C had some greenery over them.


    Astrid stood up from her place and dusted her back, getting rid of dust. Walking over in my direction, she slightly pulled at my shirt.


    "How''s your fever?"

 42: Slipstream - â…¡

    Astrid stood up from her place and dusted her back, getting rid of dust. Walking over in my direction, she slightly pulled at my shirt.


    "How''s your fever?"


    "It''s alright." I stopped and hummed as she kept her gaze fixed at me. For a while I continued to look into her eyes, the sky-blue ¨C further punctuated by the blue moonlight ¨C orbs unblinking.


    My shoulders drooped down a little. "It''s manageable."


    "I want to say that don''t push yourself."


    Her voice was low, restrained underneath a fa?ade of composure.


    Cocking my head in her direction, I tried to break a smile at her. "I can wait to hear that. Only a little though."


    "If I say it, will you act upon it?" She eyed me curiously, a glimmer of hope.


    Tapping her head once like a door, I turned around. "Nope."


    I felt her rub her forehead while mumbling something.


    Not paying much heed to it, I once again turned my attention towards the mountains. As I was saying, this place ¨C the mountain range ¨C had an unbridled potential to act as a natural fortress, providing ample amounts of both stealth, and better vantage points.


    Cold wind blew and I felt a jolt go down my body. Zipping my hoodie up, I slipped my hands into its pockets.


    Michael was silent but was impatiently tapping his heel against the ground. I could not tell if he wanted to say something, or if it was just genuine boredom before he could finally fight.


    While he was quite on the edge before, after a whole day he finally came to terms with our current predicament.


    "Do you have something to say?" I looked over Astrid''s head whose eyes were trailing after me, silently. She would occasionally steal a glance at the mountains ¨C the ones right beside us and then at the ones that were barely visible despite the moonlight ¨C and would then frown, as if trying to come up with something.


    The whole process of her thinking and being so expressive about it seemed oddly interesting and somewhat...tangible.


    I could almost see the gears in her mind whirring, the seed of an idea taking root and spreading tendrils of excitement across her face as it brightened up.


    Her eyes shone with the dawning realisation as the idea flourished within her mind.


    Her lips parted, ready to speak, but then, as if a mischievous child had yanked a sapling prematurely from the soil, she snapped her lips shut as doubts and counterarguments made by her own mind stood up against the idea.


    The excited, almost breathless flutter of her lips ceased and she looked away as if brooding. Her upper lip stretched over the lower one, lamenting herself over the failure of her idea before she could even manifest it into words.


    "Not really." Michael''s reply made me peel my eyes away from Astrid''s face. Much to my astonishment, no snarky, sardonic remark came from his side. Just a genuine answer.


    "You seem restless."


    Letting Astrid immerse in her thoughts, I addressed Michael again.


    "Itching for a fight, is all." The usual energy behind his reply was absent and his eyes were dull as he looked down at the ground while talking, long strands of white hair covering his features like a beaded veil.


    Even though he said he was itching for a fight, his tone betrayed him.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Perhaps it is the sepulchral odds that stripped him of his fighting spirit.


    I mean, no one in their right mind would be specifically cheerful about waiting for a battle they can''t win.


    I looked at Astrid as her face went through the same few stages of happiness and then remorse as she brainstormed ideas.


    As for her, she had no idea about the impending doom that awaited us. Not because she was stupid. But perhaps ignorant. Ignorant of the scale of the situation.


    Seeing how Michael was sitting dejected and trying his best to hide it was a louring reminder that despite the power he held, he was still a teenager. A mere 15-year-old.


    My expectations suddenly took a downward curve and fell into oblivion.


    I have to do something myself. It''s not like I was an overly optimistic person.


    Overly optimistic is just a longer and glorified way of calling someone stupid.


    But I wasn''t going to just sit here and wait for their arrival. Even if the numerical odds were against us, logically speaking there was still a lot we could do to flip the table of those odds back at the enemy.


    "Done thinking?" I looked over to Astrid who suddenly shuddered as her mind returned to the present moment and she stared blankly at me, still stuck between the limbo of rapid fire of ideas storming her mind and the small utterance from me in the real world.


    "Uh- yeah. I think so¡­" she sheepishly scratched her cheek, "¡­I did think of a thing or two. Not sure if it''s going to be helpful or not."


    Walking over to the wall where I had rested, I placed my foot over the small protrusion and climbed a step upwards.


    "Speak your mind. It might help."


    "Well, I don''t think that anything that I may have considered as feasible would not have crossed your mind." She replied, her tone dejected.


    "Doesn''t hurt to speak your mind, does it?" Grabbing another irregular surface, I pulled my body upwards. Thankfully the platform was only around a few hundred feet away from the peak of this mountain. It wouldn''t take that long for me to get there.


    "Chokepoints." She spoke. Despite saying it in a normal voice, it continuously seemed to get distant as I continued to climb upwards. She paused and as I looked back, I saw her looking at me with a worried expression.


    "Keep going. I am listening."


    Nodding to herself, she continued. "How about we make chokepoints? That can be a good way to pile them up and then you can like- boom, rain magic spells on them?"


    I paused midway as my hand pulled the loose rock. Tilting my body to the side, I let it fall downwards. Astrid stepped to the side as well and the muddy-rock shattered on impact. It was mostly made out of viscous mud with a few gravels in the middle that made it look like a small stone.


    "Well, I am not really versed into this whole world ending apocalypse war thingy, but from what I can see, the monsters are going to attack us, right?"


    "No shit, you dumb little rat." Michael''s voice cut through the air as he smirked at her.


    "At least I am contributing." Astrid retorted. I was still focused on climbing upwards, but the way her words sounded I could tell she had a silly grin over her face. "The more you talk the more I am convinced of something."


    "Enlighten me." He scoffed.


    "That thing you call your head only has two brain cells. And both of them are competing for third place."


    Hmm. Well, that doesn''t make sense. Technically speaking there are only two spots¡ª


    Contrary to my thoughts, Michael suddenly laughed. "You''re prolly thinking you''re funny, aren''t ya?"


    "I believe I am quite funny." She paused and then spoke again. "There''s more to humour than mindless cursing."


    He laughed once again.


    "You''ve developed quite a tongue, scaredy cat." Michael hissed. While I do think he won''t do anything, Astrid seems to be pushing her luck. "But eh, you have humour, unlike Spiderman from Walmart over there. So, I will overlook it."


    I am what now? A Spiderman? From Walmart?


    I should boil him.


    "I am graced by your words. What I would''ve done without your approval?!" Her words were laced with sardonic mockery as she placed her hand over her chest with an exaggerated motion.


    "Oye!"


    I am guessing he is calling for me. Without turning back, I spoke up.


    "What is it?"


    "Where did ya find this little rat? She''s funny."


    "Stop calling me a rat!"


    "Well, to be fair to you, you look like the rats we got in NYC. Albino rat. A fat white rat. A rat with a big mouth." Michael cackled, seemingly finding himself really funny and breaking out of the cocoon of depression he was inside a while ago.


    "Grrr." Astrid growled, but refrained from talking any further.


    Good to know she is aware of when to stop.


    "And you! Reply to me."


    Disregarding his question, I continued to climb upwards.


    Once I had made it to the top, I could finally look beyond the wall of mountains. The front was something that we had grown used to. The area beyond the huge wall of mountains was much better than the one here, with thin lines ¨C that I assumed were roads ¨C lining the whole place amidst a huge forest.


    I squinted my eyes; however, I couldn''t make much of it.


    But it was confusing. How was it possible to have a lush green forest right behind a desert-like place? It didn''t make sense. While the terrain was never mentioned in Adam''s notes, this was still bizarre.


    It was only after a few seconds of blankly thinking about it for a while that I noticed something.


    Something when I looked down.


    Two crazed eyes separated by quite a few inches. The maw was shut tight and it had held its breath. However, the moonlight hitting its scales and reflecting the sickly green hue gave it away.

 43: Slipstream - â…¢

    Before the Wujin could move, a star sparkled in the sky and I pulled a spear out of the inventory of weapons I had ''borrowed'' from the Keep during our escape.


    Its frill opened and was about to send a pulse of magnetic wave meant for communication, however, the spear lodged into the frill-like membrane before it could do so.


    A few more twinkled and more and more weapons rained down on it. A sword and an axe managed to lodge themselves into the eyes on its shoulders and all movements were immediately extinguished. In tandem with its breath.


    "WHAT''S HAPPENING UP THERE!????" Michael was the first to talk.


    This is bad.


    They have been circling around the mountain. And seeing the marks on this Wujin''s skull, it had the same tattoo as the one in Korea. Which means, this as well, was a scout.


    I looked down before pulling the lodged weapons out from the Wujin and jumped down.


    My landing was evened out as I let out a burst of Arcanum and a small wave of dust filled the platform. As I faced towards Michael, the weapons I had pulled from Wujin returned back into the sky.


    "We are getting sandwiched."


    **********************************


    **A FEW HOURS LATER**


    The first whispers of dawn crept through the quiet, frigid night as the moon began to surrender to the encroaching light of the lens shaped ¨C vesica piscis ¨C sun.


    The crawling sunlight sliced through the lingering darkness and cold of the night alike, painting the monochromatic horizon with molten gold and smouldering amber. The occasional gusts of cold air reduced and turned balmy. It felt soothing against my fever-stricken body.


    After telling Michael and Astrid about the incoming threat we immediately split up.


    Astrid followed me while Michael went on his own in an opposite direction. The goal was to spot the huge herd of Wujins. If we know which direction they are coming from, we can at least know which place is safer. And if the worst scenario happens where we can''t hold them at bay, we can run back into the forest behind the layer of mountains.


    It was a gamble.


    After an hour we met again but none of us had spotted even a single Wujin.


    Once it was clear that the full-blown attack was upon us in a few hours, we made some preparations.


    Astrid''s idea about creating a chokepoint was not bad. However, it had a few problems. There was a small congregation of trees right underneath the platform we were on which could give the notion of working.


    However, there are a few problems.


    First, these are the worst kind of chokepoint.


    Chokepoints are usually created using a passageway between mountains where enemies are trapped and are then extinguished in a pincer attack. However, the trees were right beneath the flat, vertical surface of the mountains. There was no passageway to trap them into.


    Second, an artificial chokepoint could be made.


    But there was a problem with this as well. I can''t use lightning to repeatedly strike a single place, again and again, to carve a huge path which will later be used as a trap.


    It would give out our exact location. Given the scout Wujin had not already done it.


    My physical ability was not enough to carve it. And on top of that, I had not fully recovered from Ed''s decaying slash. If worse comes to worse, I have to open Phase 2.


    Now regarding this second point, there is good and bad news.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Good news is that Michael can carve a path into the mountain and turn it into a trap using his Arcane Art.


    Bad news is that he can''t use it for some reason.


    He didn''t mention the specifics, but if I had to guess, it''s most likely like a Divine Covenant.


    A Divine Covenant is a Contractual Vow with a God. Generally speaking.


    It is quite rare since a Contract with a higher being is bound to be in loss. It''s a simple give and take restriction-based concept. No one can increase their primary nodes'' size to accommodate more Arcanum. We were able to do so because we already had room for more, but couldn''t do it due to the ambient balance on Earth.


    Back to the main topic of Divine Covenant. If someone wants to increase their Arcanum amounts via a contract with a God, they''d have to sacrifice something as well. The law of Equivalent Exchange applies here.


    In a way. But not "exactly."


    The way this works is that if I want to increase my Arcanum amounts for five minutes by 200%, correspondingly my physical abilities will nosedive by 200% as well. Not only that, but I might be able to not use my Arcane Art as well.


    It''s like a 40% profit ¨C 60% loss deal.


    This imbalance underscores a fundamental truth: a lesser being cannot stand on equal footing with a greater one, much less negotiate favourable terms. A necessary, unavoidable cost for breaking the natural course of events.


    I might be overthinking¡­ but I guess Michael''s unusually strong body is a result of this Divine Covenant. His Arcane Art might be the sacrifice. Since I can''t imagine a human having as much Arcanum as Michael with a Divine Covenant in action.


    *BOOM BOOM BOOM *


    My thoughts broke away from this line of thought as the platform I was standing on shuddered. Astrid stumbled to my side and barely held on as the suddenness of the tremor took her off guard.


    While I am against this plan, there is no fighting Michael at this point.


    I was thinking earlier about how the place beyond the wall of mountains and this are separated. I mean, it is Eden, so there are bound to be differences. This area of our old world was much more peculiar than the one we got. However, it was not possible for these two places to just be segregated by this wall and have no means of travelling from that side, to this side.


    Turns out I was right. There was a small, gravelly path. While it can''t be called a road or even a proper path, it was still carved out in a way that it would help in providing ''not-so perilous'' travel. And right now, Michael was punching holes into the path to create a huge passageway between two mountains by collapsing half of it.


    "I don''t think this is a good idea." Astrid mumbled while maintaining her balance. "This is such a brutish approach."


    I kept my eyes on the horizon, ignoring the increasing tremors that quaked underneath my boots. "In this situation there is no good idea." I paused as the first signs of green scales shimmered in the distance once again. However, this time they weren''t moving in a single arrowhead formation.


    They had spread out, unevenly. Like the head of a trident. The middle group had the least amount of Wujins with thousands upon thousands of them congregating on the left and right side.


    "Only bad or worse." I finished.


    Astrid gasped, placing her hand on her mouth. "Oh my¡­Arthur, they¡­"


    Begrudgingly, I had to admit. "Yeah. They are quite more than last time."


    The sky rumbled as the mountain to our side gave away, slowly falling into a steep rockslide. Huge debris fell, chunks of mountain falling down hundreds of feet before collapsing against the trees ¨C that slightly cushioned their fall ¨C and then broke against the jagged spikes that lined the whole place in regular intervals.


    His form blurred as he jumped upwards and stood by my side. Wiping the sweat from his face using his sleeve, he looked over the incoming horde.


    There was no need to talk.


    The Wujin ¨C the biggest one of them ¨C in the centre took a few steps forward. Unlike the others, it was different. Really different. It did not have a crazed look on its face.


    About twice as big as the normal scout, it mostly had a stark resemblance with a lizard of some sort.


    Elongated, squat body, overlapping plates on its back, a long whip-like tail. It lacked the signature look of Wujins as it had its eyes located on the face.


    The head was rounded with a bulging forehead, and its lips curved upwards giving it a permanent snarling expression.


    But what got my attention the most was the two-pronged sail on its head which was constantly vibrating as the troops moved around, taking what looked like pre-determined positions.


    "That one there for some reason has a very punchable face." Michael spoke.


    Taking hold of the weapons, I lodged a few of them into the open ravine that had formed right beside us. However, I made sure that their blades were pointing outwards and only their hilts were lodged into the ravine.


    I let out a weary breath.


    Taking out a dagger from my pocket, I turned around.


    "Just in case." I stole a glance at Astrid, holding the knife out. She was still shivering, now that she had seen them up close. And in such large numbers.


    She looked up at my face and then down at the small knife. After a few moments, she took it away.


    Her fingers were ice cold against my skin.


    A natural biological reaction.


    In adrenaline fuelled situations, or particularly in a situation where a person is in a fight-or-flight mode, blood flow is often directed to organs required for survival and not much into the fingers and toes.


    That is why in such situations fingers and toes are generally the coldest parts in a human body.


    Once the weapons'' hilts had lodged themselves into the thin ravine, I turned my head towards the army of Wujins.


    The one in the middle took another few steps before stopping.


    The pronged sail on its head vibrated and I felt a few, weak magnetic waves pulse in the air. The pulse was followed by the soldiers falling into a frenzy as they readied themselves.


    It was only then when it clocked.


    "That''s the queen."

 44: Slipstream - â…£

    "That''s the queen." I pointed at the one in the middle. As if understanding everything happening here, the snarly look on its face contorted into a twisted, ugly smirk. The sail vibrated once more and the left flank started to move in a straight line.


    "Beehive."


    "Beehive?" Michael raised a brow, his Arcanum flaring as he coated his body.


    "I want to test something." I replied, and without waiting for him to talk, I extended my hand to the side.


    ''Thunderbolt.'' I chanted internally.


    Lighting crackled between my fingertips. The lightning branched and an azure light started to fill the entire platform, before spilling like water over the edge.


    It started to take shape in my grasp taking a much more symmetrical, multi-pronged, zigzagging shape.


    The centre shaft remained in my grip while it extended to both sides with jagged, branching extensions resembling the forks of a lightning bolt.


    As soon as it was completed, I heard nothing else other than the crackle of the ''Thunderbolt,'' roaring to be released.


    Pivoting my body in the right direction, I imbued more Arcanum into my arms before launching it like a missile.


    The Thunderbolt zipped through the air and before I could even blink, it was a few centimetres away from the Queen''s head.


    However, just as it could make an impact, shields stacked on one another.


    It was as I had guessed.


    There is no queen without her royal guards.


    As the thunderbolt pierced through shields, flesh and hardened steel-like bones alike, renting it apart and spilling the royal guard''s guts in every direction, several more of them had already started to gather in every direction of the queen, forming literal meat shields.


    As ''The Thunderbolt''s'' rage finally quelled, around 5 of them were already dead.


    Ignoring the incoming wave of normal soldiers from the side, I looked back at the Queen who had a snarling expression once again before she was hidden behind the ring of her royal guards.


    "They work in a Beehive. The others don''t have intelligence." I started to explain. It all made sense now. "If we can take out the queen, I am pretty sure the others will stop functioning altogether."


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    "Like that Chinese movie?"


    I turned around to look at Michael. "I haven''t watched what you are referring to, but if that helps you with it, yes. Exactly like that one Chinese movie." I paused as he nodded. "We just need to get rid of those guards."


    "Alright." Michael stretched his arms. "Leave that to me."


    "No." I stopped him. "You stay here with Astrid."


    "HAH?! I don''t wanna babysit this rat."


    "No, it''s not about babysitting." I took a deep breath. "We haven''t seen a single soldier from the Keep. It''s obvious they led these Wujins here."


    "Aaaaannnddd?????"


    Do I really have to spoon feed this guy everything? How did he even become an heir? "Can''t tell exactly, but I am sure they will attack once we are weakened. Or maybe all of this is a distraction and they have some other agenda."


    "Well, fuck! We are proper fucked, aren''t we?"


    "Not exactly." The words felt out of place. "Only somewhat."


    As the left flank reached our left side, a couple hundred feet away from the ravine, they started to pile up on each other and began climbing the mountain using each other as footholds.


    "Now that''s some zombie apocalypse level shit." Michael snorted.


    There was quite some time before they reached the ravine.


    Pointing my index finger downward, a metallic bar flew from beyond the saffron hued clouds which appeared as a black blur against the rising silhouette of the sun.


    The Wujin queen was a really smart creature. And the biggest strength of her was the viciousness and quantity of her puppets. It was like using magnetic fields as strings. She was a marionette. All I had to do was find the right frequency to start interrupting orders from her.


    I had done it once in Seoul while I was experimenting on it. But it was already faint due to its existence in different dimensions. It was stronger as of now, but given enough time, I could decipher it.


    I am confident about it.


    As the lightning rod lodged itself in front of the queen, her royal guards gathered in front of her.


    These twenty or so guards were about the size of an elephant and had the appearance akin to a gorilla, with eyes located on their faces.


    They as well possessed the receiver retractable frills on their shoulders and had small, flat-faced heads.


    They lacked any tails and their physiology was mostly similar to monkeys.


    From one look, I could tell their main weapon was the unfolding heavy armoured frills that served the purpose of shields for their queen.


    "Fuu¡­" I let out a long breath.


    As if realising what I was about to do, Michael took a step back.


    "Take a few steps back as well." He prompted Astrid, but their voices faded as I focused on my spell.


    Dark clouds started to swirl overhead in a cyclone like shape and azure lightning coursed through it. The rising lens shaped sun began to get muddled by the black clouds as the entire place crackled with a thundering boom.


    "Open."


    I muttered under my breath as a huge column of lightning fell directly on the lightning rod I had lodged right in front of the middle and right flank.


    As lightning coursed through the battlefield, I lowered my stance and extended my hand to the side as a sword flew into my grip.


    I had only started the first step of this but I could already feel my body scream in protest. Like pulling itself apart.


    I grit my teeth and the adrenaline soaked up any lingering pain in my body.


    My vision stretched infinitely as I chanted with a harried* gasp.


    [Phase 2: Slipstream]


    ---------------------------------------


    *harried 1 of 2 (adjective)


    Definition of harried: "as in frustrated," bothered by many problems or worries; very worried or anxious

 45: Requiem of Eternal Rest - â… 

    3rd Person POV:


    The sky''s dark chest ripped open as a blinding column of azure lightning pierced through the thick curtain of murky dark clouds as it fell on the solitary metallic rod that was lodged in the middle of the battleground, right in front of the Queen''s Guard and the right flank.


    The sun that yet to reach its zenith was overshadowed by the stormy clouds and the column of lightning casted long shadows of the monsters in every direction.


    The lightning column, however, was not directly absorbed and then nullified by the lightning rod. Instead of dispersing permanently, the column of lightning brightened even further and the place where the rod was lodged into cracked.


    Huge splinters spiderwebbed all across the battlefield as they slithered like a cobra towards the Wujins.


    A deluge of ions started to scatter in every direction, harmlessly touching- caressing the Wujin''s bodies with a delicate touch. As if mocking Arthur, the Wujin Queen''s gnarly lips turned into a smile-ish frown. The sail-like frills fanned out and like a drum it started to beat in a constant rhythm.


    Arthur placed his foot over the edge of the platform.


    The stormy winds flipped his grey hoodie back as it made a loud swishing sound, and the black shirt underneath it did little to mask the growing cold. However, his mind was not even focused on such trivialities.


    All of his focus was turned towards the application of his Arcane Art that was the hardest to perform, even amongst all the other Phase 2 ones.


    Humans ¨C The Seven Syndicates basically ¨C had classed their Arcane Arts using the Terms ''Phase.''


    Which literally indicates different phases of progression. The Olvasens'' Arcane Arts'' Phase 1 is the same for everyone. Be it either Magnetic, Electric or any other wave on the electromagnetic spectrum, the Phase 1 stayed the same for them. For the lucky few who awakened more than one aspect, they had to learn phase 1 of each wave present on the spectrum.


    It was the same for Phase 2.


    Each Phase comprised of around 5-6 applications.


    The way to tap into different applications was to have a staunch understanding of the application in question. The way it worked, its dynamics etcetera etcetera. And the jump from Phases occurred when a caster''s body had reached the requirements to perform it.


    A strong enough body. Since Adam was a one in an eternity prodigy, replicating his Destruction Type Arcane Arts ¨C even if it''s a mere shadow of what he used to wield ¨C was nigh impossible.


    Phase 2 ¨C irrespective of the Family ¨C was generally reached when a person reached 18 years of age when the nodes have been exposed to Arcanum long enough so that they had solidified and reinforced muscle fibres for the extreme stress that comes from the Phase shift.


    And Arthur was around 2.5 years away from that.


    However, since Arcane Arts were "Interpretation" of a "Concept," despite having the physical limitation, Arthur was able to open Phase 2. Since he knew how it was done. Or rather, the deep mechanics behind this specific application.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    But the stipulation still remained. Adam''s Arcane Arts were highly destructive. It was possible that doing this might rupture his organs. Or even tear him apart.


    But there was a thought in his mind that steeled his resolve. The acceptance of reality that whether or not he decides to do it, he would end up being torn to shreds. It was better to die trying and surpassing his limits than inside the maw of a creature that couldn''t even continue living without an order from the Queen.


    To Arthur, dying such an insulting death was beneath him.


    "Phase 2: Slipstream."


    The chant was carried away by the blistering wind as Arthur''s entire body, down to their very molecules vibrated.


    The deluge of ions that had scattered all over the battlefield had still not dissipated, but was on its last legs. The ions were forming a net that extended backwards. The Queen''s frill stopped vibrating and at the same time, the right flank attacked. Ignoring the harmless scattering of sparks that fizzled every now and then, they rushed towards the trio, their long tongues dangling out of their gnarly mouths.


    The spell Arthur was about to perform was something that was argued to even surpass higher phases, unbefitting of the Phase 2. But due to how much stress it put on the user''s body and how rarely it was used by the Olvasens, it never got ranked higher. Since Arcanum manifested ''concepts'' formed by the caster''s interpretation and insight into the Arcane Art they were born with, this spell never made it high enough. Because most of the Olvasens couldn''t fully understand it.


    ''Focus.'' Arthur prompted himself.


    ''Slipstream'' was a tunnel passageway. A spell which caused the concept of Phasing. But a bit more complicated


    A charged particle ¨C like an electron ¨C can be described by a wave function, which gives the probability of finding the particles at a particular location.


    Arthur could use electromagnetism in a way that it caused a localised phenomenon where particles pass through a barrier that they theoretically shouldn''t be able to, according to classical physics. This occurred due to the wave-like nature of particles at the quantum level, allowing them to exist in a probabilistic state on the other side of the barrier.


    The barrier around the charged particles, which essentially prevented the concept of teleportation, was something that had its own unique signature. Normally it would be impossible to match a body''s electromagnetic orientation with something else due to the physiological factor, however, there was an exception.


    The exception was the additional factor of Arcanum. The way it works is that while electric fields that are naturally occurring and the ones that are either generated or manipulated via Arcanum are similar for the most part. However, the only difference ¨C which also happens to be the key difference ¨C is the composition.


    And due to the presence of Arcanum around the barrier that encased the charged particles, those with Electromagnetism manipulation could take a hold of it and weaken it.


    By supercharging the column of lightning that Arthur had summoned a few seconds ago, the particles were already close to decay, evident from how the sparks that scattered like a net across the battlefield were sizzling, extinguishing out of existence.


    Arthur''s senses had already enhanced as he started to detect unique electromagnetic fields around the individual sparks.


    "Got it." He spoke out loud, his face impassive but his heart was beating like a war drum as he chose a target spark.


    At the same time, Arthur influenced his own body''s electromagnetic field to match the frequency of the chosen spark, aligning the two''s quantum states with the energy of the electromagnetic field as it created a temporary, stable warp tunnel to the spark''s location.


    The tunnel was invisible to the naked eye; however, miniature bolts of lightning were visible inside his irises. Just like how they used to appear in Aksel''s eyes.


    Astrid and Michael looked at each other in bewilderment.


    As if there was actually a tunnel, Arthur stepped into it.


    His form blurred as it started vibrating, becoming semi-transparent.


    Astrid gasped and almost reached out for him before Michael pulled her hand back.


    "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? THAT GUY IS SUPERCHARGED WITH LIKE A WHOLE FUCKING COUNTRY''S WORTH OF ELECTRICITY!"

 46: Requiem of Eternal Rest - â…¡

    "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? THAT GUY IS SUPERCHARGED WITH LIKE A WHOLE FUCKING COUNTRY''S WORTH OF ELECTRICITY!"


    "But¡­" Her voice trailed off, worry etched on her face. With an annoyed grunt, Astrid yanked her hand off from his grip. Before she could look back at Arthur, a thunderclap resounded, making her flinch and jump back on pure instinct.


    With a sharp crackle, Arthur dissolves into a swarm of glowing cerulean particles, his form melding as it raced like a bolt of lightning toward the nearest spark.


    Before anyone could even consider what was happening, he was already in front of the chosen spark''s location, his body reforming from the dancing lights.


    The air around him hummed with residual electricity, the faint translucent glow fading as he solidified.


    Before the first Wujin''s eye could even turn towards Arthur and catch a glimpse of its attacker, Arthur''s sword sliced through the thick, layered commissure ¨C which was the muscle covering the intersection point of the upper and lower jaw ¨C and made its way cleanly through its body.


    And before the whole situation of Arthur basically teleporting even registered in anyone''s mind, the Wujin in the lead''s body was cleaved cleanly into half.


    The upper half flew over and landed a few yards away due to the momentum and the lower body collided into Arthur and stopped right there, in his feet.


    Arthur stood there, motionless as a few drops of noxious blood fell on his wrist. His eyes were set on the Queen who was hiding behind the Queen''s Guard, her membranous frills retracted.


    They vibrated once, and a shadow closed in on Arthur.


    The world around him had gotten really slow and his mind was reading every danger and providing hundreds of solutions to him at the same time in a matter of a few seconds. However, this overload made his body unmoving as it was his physical limitation.


    The maw of a Wujin closed in on his head, ready to chomp it up in one fell swoop.


    Arthur''s mind raced; however, his body was unable to dodge.


    Without even looking back, he tried to search for a passing spark.


    A small spark was scurrying around right behind the Wujin that was attacking Arthur. Letting his body fall to the back, he activated it once again.


    [Slipstream]


    His entire body vibrated and he disappeared, the Wujin''s maw chewing on open air.


    Appearing right behind it, Arthur willed Arcanum into his body and pushed away the hundreds of thoughts and focused on a single one.


    A single upward slash.


    Arcanum flicked like a whip from the tip of his sword as it cleaved another Wujin, the two halves of it falling on either side.


    "This bastard!" Michael exclaimed in excitement. "He learned the sword extension from that Ed guy mid-battle."


    "Might be a bit late, but who on Earth is Ed?"


    Michael looked to the side. "Are you serious?"


    "Very serious?"


    "Very, very serious?"


    "Yeah."


    "Then I won''t tell ya." Michael scoffed.


    Astrid let out a tired breath. "Are you autistic?"


    "Say that again, you dumb blonde."


    "Say what?"


    "The thing you just said."


    "I didn''t say anything."


    "You just fucking did!" Michael snapped.


    "Didn''t know you were schizophrenic as well."


    Michael let out a frustrated sneer. "I am so going to kill you, you brat."


    "Yeah, yeah." Astrid brushed him off. Her eyes had not left Arthur even for a single moment. Peeling them away for the first time, she turned around and faced Michael. "I think we should get going too."


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    She pointed at the left flank battalion. A lot of them had climbed the long path and were now charging towards Astrid and Michael.


    Cursing underneath his breath, Michael nodded. "I will lure them into the ravine." He spoke and narrowed his eyes on Astrid. "Not sure why that freak trusts you, but if he does, there must be a good reason." He paused, his words causing Astrid''s eyes to widen. "I will trust ya as well. Focus on the work you''ve been given. Don''t worry about the monsters coming y''er way."


    "Alright¡­?"


    Astrid couldn''t really put a finger on what she was witnessing. The sudden shift was quite jarring.


    "Don''t mess it up, ratatouille."


    Turning around, he started to walk away, waving his right hand while his left one nonchalantly slipped into his pants pocket.


    Shaking her head to empty her head, she focused on the task at hand.


    ''He has trusted me with this one job. I can''t mess it up! And I can''t let this pretentious bastard laugh at me anymore as well!''


    On the battlefield, Arthur''s form was a mere blue as he blipped in and out of the vibratory existence for brief moments. Each time he appeared, a Wujin''s head flew into the air, painting the blank canvas with a sickly green shade of blood before vanishing into a bright flash followed by a thunderclap.


    As he side-stepped and disappeared, he took a hold of the spark closest to the queen and appeared right behind her. His sword had no glint as the sun was hidden behind a veil of grey clouds.


    As the sword slashed through the air in a powerful downward slash, one of the Queen''s guards rammed into him, his shield flaring outwards.


    At the same time its meaty hand ¨C that was like a Gorilla unlike the usual soldiers ¨C lowered into a stance and thrust a huge, crudely carved weapon made out of stone at Arthur.


    Arthur planted his feet into the ground; however, the guard''s strength was superior to his own. Still ramming the natural shield into him, the Commander Wujin continued trying to get an attack off him. However, with the thick shield in between them and the Wujin''s own, beefy arms, it was almost impossible to reach him.


    Arthur''s senses that were constantly being electrified were taking in everything. But at the same time, his body was protesting. Begging him to not use the ''Phase'' once again.


    Arthur immediately spun and the Wujin stumbled forward. His sword blurred and


    Arthur immediately spun and the Wujin stumbled forward. His sword blurred around himself in a full circle as the 6 soldier ranks that had jumped him had their faces cut in half. Arthur didn''t bat an eye to the lifeless bodies as he went straight after the commander rank.


    With his face impassive, Arthur lashed out with a punch, his fist clad in blue lightning. The shield crumbled and the Wujin looked upwards, spasming while he was being shocked to the ground.


    Another commander, one of a different shade of green, swung both of his.arms down at him in a clubbing motion.


    Taking a step back, Arthur phased out of existence only for a few seconds before reappearing behind the Wujin whose attack landed atop his peer, crushing his head underneath the force of his attack. Lightning jumped like a sentient being from the dead Wujin to the other one, locking him in a series of convulsions.


    Arthur whipped his sword once again and lightning crackled as an extension of the sword. Since it was not his own technique and he had just learned it from Ed, its effective range wasn''t as much as Ed, but it was still quite destructive.


    The whip made of lightning hardened like a blade and then like one huge tidal wave of death, the sparks that branched from it cleaved and sheared through hundreds if not thousands of soldier ranks. As soon as the extended blade of electrifying death subsided, Arthur bolted forward like a missile and his sword lodged into the heart of the commander Wujin that was still pinned to the ground via electricity.


    Its hulking body fell like a huge boulder atop the other commander''s body who had his head crushed.


    Despite the nauseous stench of the Wujin''s blood, Arthur turned a blind eye to everything. Seconds stretched into minutes which further morphed into the first hour.


    Another commander rank bolted towards Arthur. However, he already knew of their weaknesses now. Before it could retract its frill, which also served as its shield, Arthur shot forward. His sword swung in a diagonal slash.


    The commander brought its hand upward and caught the sword.


    However, that was exactly what Arthur was waiting for. The sword had already weathered out due to fighting and slashing the Wujins whose scales were so hard that only a HEAT tank was able to kill it. Arthur had long left the handle of the sword. The ring around his index finger morphed into silver claws on his fingertips and Arthur went straight for its jugular.


    The silvery claws dug deeper into its throat and poisonous blood squirted out in a thin stream. Avoiding it, Arthur applied more force until his claws dug deeper until it touched the creature''s tongue. Yanking it out with one powerful tug, Arthur phased out once again.


    The Queen''s frills were perpetually retracted as she gave constant orders, trying to make a defensive wall of her subjects. But no matter how much she tried, Arthur was able to exploit the holes in their defences and after a few minutes, their formation would crumble, descending into a slaughtering chaos.


    Atop the hill, Astrid was standing on the upper end of the ravine from where the crack between the mountains extended downward into a steep valley like trap. The fog was heavy as clouds descended down, and her vision was blurry.


    Her hands trembled against the rough textured surface of the ground.


    Her fingers were pulsating with a subtle hum, Arcanum lightning up the node inside her mind that activated the Arcane Art.


    She let out a shallow breath and a small cloud of fog escaped her lips.


    ''Any time now¡­'' She focused, trying to not let it waver.


    As if on cue, something huge flew and crashed into the mountain beside her before slowly slipping into the ravine below.


    As Astrid looked down, she saw Michael herding the Wujins like a dog herding livestock. The Queen had already sent a command to leave Michael and Astrid alone and focus on the bigger threat.


    Arthur.


    However, Michael was holding his own very well against them, not allowing a single one of them pass him.


    "Alright, ya ugly bastards! First to get past me gets a free cheesesteak from me!" He cackled like a maniac as his fist drove into the one who had passed his right flank, followed by a loud splatter as its skull got crushed and the impact made a crater beneath him. "Come on, ya dogs! Try better."


    His Arcanum was alive and pulsating, like a sparkler candle. The Queen''s sail-like frills opened once again, thrumming as all of the Wujins that were going against Michael immediately turned around and started to flank to the side and then planned to regroup together.


    Michael sneered.


    ''They''re going right into his trap.''

 47: Requiem of Eternal Rest - â…¢

    Michael sneered.


    ''They''re going right into his trap.''


    The whole formation ran in tandem, circling from underneath the ravine-like place Michael had formed. As Astrid spotted them, she pressed her hands firmly on the ground.


    A translucent, white light spilled from her hands and a dome started to extend from about 70 feet above the Wujins. Extending downwards, it closed all of the paths. A few of them managed to escape, but they were instantly caught by Michael and killed.


    ''Good thing the fatality limitation doesn''t apply to these fuckers.''  He thought to himself in a moment of pure bliss.


    Michael ¨C as Arthur had guessed ¨C had a Divine Covenant. Since his Arcane Art''s byproduct brought harm to his own body, he made a Covenant in which he would seal his Arcane Art away in exchange for around 3 to 4 times increase in his physical abilities.


    However, there was more to it. He did not permanently give up his Arcane Art for physical capabilities, he could still use it but only when he was at around 30% ''health,'' i.e. when he is really close to dying.


    Since he was able to still tap into his Arcane Art, the loss he had to incur was that as soon as he reached 30% health, he would lose his physical buff. And while he had this buff, he can not kill humans. Michael had thought this would not apply to Edeners. However, it was applicable, given how no one who fought him had died.


    Monsters, however, were exempt from this criteria.


    It was annoying, but Michael was fully satisfied with it. With a ridiculous amount of strength coupled with the knowledge of multiple martial arts, he was a force to be reckoned with, even with only basic body augmentation.


    Astrid let out a pained gasp as the Wujins started to club against her barrier in which she had sealed them. At the same time Michael called out for Arthur.


    "DO IT!"


    Without looking back, Arthur flicked his wrist and the weapons he had lodged into the ravine all started to oscillate subtly, creating a specific weak frequency of sound waves to wash over them in an orderly manner.


    The clubbing started to weaken, before eventually dying out.


    "Perfect." Michael grinned as Astrid fell on her back, gasping loudly.


    "God that took a lot out of me¡­" she mumbled to herself before looking over in Arthur''s direction.


    His clothes were sagging down due to the blood and sweat leaking out from his body. He had already overused ''Slipstream''.


    The number of steps before his body started to break was around 15 steps. Right now he has used it for around 18 times, resulting in the muscles in his left arm torn and ears bleeding.


    However, the heavy amounts of adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream numbed out the pain.


    The commanders were all dead, their bodies making an extremely large pile.


    The Queen took a step back. Her regular soldiers were running towards her.


    However, it was too late.


    Biting back a groan, Arthur phased, turning the last, dying spark into a checkpoint and arrived behind the Queen. She tried to turn around, however, Arthur effortlessly lodged his blade''s tip into its membranous frill.


    It let out a loud crunch.


    The ones circling around the queen and a few others that had circled around Astrid suddenly limped.


    She looked back and a wave of horror washed over her.


    The Wujin jumped at her, determined to kill her at least.


    Astrid brought her hands up, but before it could bite down at her, Arthur yanked the frills from the Queen with his bare hands, killing it in the process and in extension, turning the switch off for every Wujin around them.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The Wujin''s giant body fell on Astrid.


    She let out a groan, trying to push the humongous weight of the creature from above her. But even with Arcanum, she wasn''t strong enough.


    "BUAHAHAHA! LOOK AT YOU! Squashed like the little rat you are!" Michael mocked, wrapping his arms around his waist as he laughed.


    "Oh, for heaven''s sake." She grumbled to herself. It wasn''t just that one but every Wujin was dropping dead the moment their Queen was killed.


    Suddenly, Astrid''s lips started to tremble as she saw something. Something that wasn''t supposed to be here. And the scene sent her senses into an unbridled state of alarum.


    It was not Arthur and his bloodied face, nor was it the way he was sitting on the giant throne of Wujin corpses, but it was the one standing right behind Michael.


    His horns etched a deep imprint into her mind.


    She pointed to his back, her lips fluttering but fear muffled out every word.


    Michael threw his body backwards and a dark blade pierced through his forearm. As he looked back, his eyes were met with squinted amethyst eyes.


    "You are quite the bother, from what we have observed." The newcomer spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "The Lord has decreed, should you sabotage his plans, I will personally execute you. Do not expect any form of mercy."


    Michael sneered, unfazed by his arm that bled profusely. "Fuck your lord... and FUCK YOU!" Ed''s eyes widened as he brought his other arm upwards. The bones inside his arm rattled from Michael''s punch.


    Arthur looked at the scene with a tired look, still sitting comfortably atop the pile of corpses of the commander ranked Wujins. He let out a deep breath and his Arcanum started to slowly hasten the process of his healing. To an extent it was capable of.


    Ed had already summoned Nightcrackle, which meant that Michael wouldn''t last long. Not without a weapon of his own or his Arcane Art.


    Arthur thought. His eyes flicked from Michael to Astrid who had almost removed the hulking weight of the creature from atop herself.


    ''Something isn''t right¡­''


    Arthur mused; the grey clouds overcast subsiding. His Arcanum had taken a huge hit, dropping to around 40% of what it was. As he watched the battlefield break underneath the might of Michael and Ed''s auras clashing together, he took in a deep breath, trying to refill his reserves.


    His heart palpitated as the much purer form of Arcanum ¨C when compared to Earth at least ¨C seeped into his skin and stored into his primary node. Even if the air was tinged with a foul smell, it felt extremely light and crisp.


    As the adrenaline started to wash off, he started to feel the pain hit him like a truck. However, at the same time, he jumped down from the makeshift throne of corpses.


    Just as his foot touched the ground, a huge, sickly green runic circle encased the entire battlefield, save for the place where Michael, Ed and Astrid were.


    Arthur''s eyes widened as he recognised the circle.


    Turning around, his eyes met a single person.


    Short, curly white hair and a pair of slit golden eyes. Two pairs of obsidian horns shone in the sun as it continued its ascent and washed the whole world in an orange hue now that the stormy clouds were gone.


    Two horns sprouted from his forehead that moved upwards and the other two extended upwards from his temples and curled down around his ear.


    He looked down at the dead Wujin queen, her frills yanked away from her.


    "You are smarter than I thought."


    Arthur stayed silent. There was no more chance for him to phase out of this circle. And his body was as heavy as lead.


    "How did you predict my Arcane Art? Even if Adam or Eve passed out everything that they knew about us, this Arcane Art was not well known back then. So how?"


    Arthur stayed silent once again. Not because he didn''t want to talk. But he was trying to save every bit of energy.


    The Lord looked at him with a rather amused look. "You look angry at this outcome." He placed his chin over his hand.


    "If it makes you feel any better, I can''t make use of the Queen. You have foiled my whole plan of controlling the Wujin Army." He paused and then looked down at him.


    "It is really infuriating, you know."


    He studied Arthur''s entire form and felt his muscles going stiff. "Pardon my manners. I am Jayden Cromwell. Lord of Central Dominion."


    "Uh, cool."


    Arthur''s chest heaved up and down and then suddenly he held his breath.


    Lightning spilled out of Arthur''s body as a huge amount of Arcanum exploded underneath his feet and he shot forward towards him.


    "Oh? Nice attempt."


    With a rapacious glint in his eyes, the Lord raised his hand making a sign.


    "But playtime''s over, pup." He sneered.


    The tip of his thumb and index finger created a perfect ring, while the other three fingers stood tall, like a crown. He placed the circle directly in front of his eye, the open space framing his golden iris like a lens.


    Through the small, rounded window, his eyes shone with an otherworldly glow.


    The light caught the edges of his fingers, casting a soft shadow.


    "Technique Deployment."


    The Lord ¨C Jayden Cromwell ¨C mumbled with a victorious grin as Arthur frowned.


    "Requiem of Eternal Rest."


    Jayden chanted his Technique Deployment''s name as everything turned white.


    Was it a checkmate?


    --------------------------------


    A/n: Dumbo author here. For those who couldn''t quite catch the explanation behind Slipstream, here is a simplified version without my author-istic self.


    Arthur''s instantaneous transfer is similar to how entangled particles share similar states regardless of distance. He manipulated supercharged electromagnetic fields in a way that the energy barrier started to decay--hence less resistance, creating a temporary "tunnel" or "stream" through which he can pass.


    About him vibrating, as I mentioned, after matching the Arcanum encased frequencies, his body existed in a wave-like probabilistic state during the transition, allowing him to "tunnel" through the intervening space and appear at the destination.


    Quantum tangling (in this case force distangling) and tunnelling, in extremely simple and summarised terms.


    And while you think it''s broken, this story''s power system is quite balanced. Drawbacks will be explained naturally in later chapters. Until then, toodaloo.

 48: Unilateral Hegemony (â… )

    Arthur Olvasen POV:


    Everything had gone according to the initial plan so far, like a well-rehearsed opera-performance.


    As I had guessed, The Wujins were an extreme case of a hivemind. What made them specifically such a huge threat was not even their sheer numbers and the pure vicious nature of them. It was the Queen.


    The Queen ¨C if I had to assume ¨C had better leader qualities and general traits than most of human politicians in our current era. She was a true leader, and her intelligence, despite the fact that it was a monster, was frightening.


    Monsters were supposed to be mindless creatures, not capable of complex, intricate thought processes. But what the Wujin queen did was beyond one could expect. The only reason why I was able to still outplay its defences, because I continued to overestimate the specific criteria of monsters.


    I had thought of it as a veteran army general.


    And I am glad I did so. Because even when I executed my actions using this thought process, I still had a hard time. It would''ve been easier if the soldier and commander Wujins could think on their own since that would bring other uncontrollable factors into play.


    However, much to my dismay, they were like puppets attached to strings to her. They could not even breathe without her. This absolute dominion over her subjects, coupled with intelligence was something that ¨C if not dealt with in due time ¨C could result in a total wipeout of a whole city in a few minutes.


    I suppose it was our ¨C humans'' ¨C luck that me and Michael were teleported here.


    Just as the Wujin was my natural enemy, I was its natural adversary as well.


    1/3 of the whole fleet was immobilised after it passed through the ravine that I had told Michael to make. Using it as a chokepoint, I had lodged many swords there with their metallic surfaces pointing outwards. This ¨C when imbued with a specific frequency of a sound wave ¨C acted as an antenna.


    Since Wujins communicate via sound waves, it could be either disrupted using magnetic waves, or using sound waves of opposite frequency which would cancel out The Queen''s orders. Since disruption via magnetic waves was hard, I had opted to cancel them out.


    This strategy in conjunction with Astrid''s ability to seal almost everything in place and Michael''s superior physical ability, we were able to thwart more than half of them without even fighting or killing them. And while I could''ve had Michael fight these monsters¡­


    I had something else in mind.


    During my previous fight with Ed, something had happened to me. I am not sure if it was my paranoia or something else, but I had morphed into someone that was not me. An irrational beast who had nothing on his mind, save for pure bloodlust and the undying urge to kill.


    That was not me. Despite the vague, hazy past of myself, I could tell this much.


    When I gained my rationality, I felt someone was watching from afar. Someone much, much stronger than Ed. He could''ve attacked, but he didn''t. It was strange, but it told me a few things.


    The main thing was that the person in question wanted to talk.


    Just so I could talk with the person and not get interrupted by a vengeance seeking son, I had Michael take a role which didn''t tire him out but at the same time made him look like a really big nuisance if not removed in due time.


    And while talking to someone from Eden who has nothing on their minds other than killing us was one of the most stupid things a human could do, it was still worth a shot.


    Ed didn''t immediately attack me. He wanted to talk things out.


    And the one who was stronger than Ed didn''t attack as well. He just merely observed from afar and even suppressed his aura.


    As I watched Michael engage in a full-blown fight against Ed, I breathed out a sigh of relief. As I had guessed, I was not targeted.


    I suppose that person will be coming soon as well. As I jumped off the pile of corpses, a huge runes inscribed circle stretched over the entire place before I could even step on the solid ground.


    I suppose I miscalculated. Or perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, but this doesn''t feel like a thing a person who is in a mood to negotiate would do.


    "Technique Deployment." The Demon who had introduced himself as Jayden Cromwell mumbled with a huge grin over his face. "Requiem of Eternal Rest."


    The entire expanse suddenly turned white. My eyes snapped shut for a brief moment. However, I snapped them open, mild panic slowly rising from the pit of my stomach.


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


    I was trapped. There was no way I could get out of a Technique Deployment. Nor did I have a way to counter it.


    The only chance that I had was¡­


    I looked up at the sky which was now the same bright white as everything else around me. I was trapped in separate¡ªfor the lack of better words¡ªpocket dimension. My sole chance of making it out alive, my trump card, was not yet here.


    I was in a deep mire of odds callously stacked against me.


    Before my lips could move to say something¡­ anything to buy time, shadows seeped into the white static void, twisting and coalescing as it turned the monotonic world into a grim and bleak graveyard.


    Hoary, gnarled trees loomed overhead, bare branches clawing at the grim, murky sky like bony fingers.


    The ground was a heterogeneously eclectic jumble of cracked earth and decaying leaves, broken only by rows of crooked, weathered tombstones between the wide columns.


    Small graves sprouted in every direction, each one marred by crumbling stones that were covered in disarrayed moss, clumps of clay and ivy.


    A thick mist swirled around the graves, clinging to the ground and then raising upwards until it covered my ankles. My feet seemed to squish, as if trapped in a viscous solution of something uncongenial.


    Worn paths wounded through the cemetery, leading to deeper shadows and hidden corners that stretched for as far as my eye could see.


    A chill ran down my spine. As I looked back, a solitary Christian Cross¡ªor that is what it seemed like¡ªhung from nothing, silhouetted against the darkening horizon.


    By the time I returned my gaze back at Jayden, he had already removed his hand from his eye, signalling the completion of his Technique Deployment. He stood straight, his arms clasped behind his back and he had a vulpine grin on his face.


    I waited, looking solemnly at the man in front of me whose mere presence seemed to scorch the air in my lungs. It was painful to breathe, further punctuated by the usage of Slipstream which I had exploited way more than what my body could handle.


    My left arm seemed fairly silent, and I couldn''t move it freely. Even curling my fingers sent such jolts of pain through my left arm that I had to bite my tongue to suppress the groan. However, the pain also filled me with some hope. It was not lost.


    I had just exhausted it.


    But I couldn''t dwell on the slight glimmer of hope for too long.


    I was trapped inside a Technique Deployment, an environment crafted specifically for the user''s advantage. No amount of effort or strategy could save me from this situation.


    Except for external help. Unfortunately, Michael was unable to use even his Arcane Art, let alone perform a Technique Deployment.


    ''Fuu¡­'' I breathed out.


    Every inhale felt like a shard of glass scraping against my throat and lungs, scuffing against my tongue like sandpaper being forcefully rubbed against it.


    My body screamed at me to not even think about it, however, I had to try it. Expanding my senses, I tried to look for it.


    Any small presence of a spark. Anything at all. His technique deployment was already complete. However, if I managed to get out of here using Slipstream, at least I could avoid getting killed with one strike.


    But any sort of connection I had with the outside world was severed and I couldn''t even feel the naturally occurring fields that usually exist all around us. Not just the fields, even the ambient Arcanum felt out of reach.


    I tried to fight against it, the hold¡ªor rather the void that had been created around us, shutting down everything for me. But nothing budged. Like the bond of an atom, it refused to let go of each other, maintaining the hardened shape.


    "Your efforts, despite how futile, are quite amusing to witness, human." Jayden''s voice reached my ears. However, unlike how one would normally perceive someone''s voice, it was like a murmur.


    Like a ghostly apparition whispering¡ªabove and beneath, from my sides and even from underneath the ankle length slimy liquid that filled the entire inner domain of the Technique Deployment.


    The voice was garbled.


    Or was it my ears that were so heavy that even my heartbeat now felt like hearing to something underwater? I couldn''t tell.


    I didn''t, or rather, couldn''t reply.


    My limbs were weak, and the last flickers of Arcanum danced erratically inside my primary node, ready to vanish at any given moment.


    I struggled to steady my breath, desperately clinging to the Arcanum, refusing to let it slip away. Like a child clutching a beloved toy, unwilling to let go. My fingers trembled as I straightened my hunched back.


    My breath gave out a slight quiver, audibly as I swallowed a spiky, dried lump of saliva.


    "Judging by the typical progression of human ageing, despite your rather vintage appearance¡ªat least according to us¡ªyou seem quite youthful," he mused as he picked a stray lock of his curly hair and gently eased out the tangle that it had formed around his front horns. "Your level of talent and power at such a young age¡­" He raised a genuinely curious brow as he continued. "Is quite remarkable. I must admit, it''s almost flattering to be in your presence."


    There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. His words felt genuine, and his face shadowed with an equally honest blend of curiosity and mild amusement.


    "I don''t think you are in a situation where you need to delay killing me." I spoke for the first time, keeping my voice from cracking as I willed the little Arcanum I had left to speed up the healing process of my body. "Unless."


    I paused deliberately, the frigid pain shooting from my left arm feeling like a barrage of spikes of ice stabbing it. The loss of blood from my torn muscles and cuts was catching up to me.


    My vision blurred and doubled over as the last wisps of Arcanum in my node sputtered out, leaving the healing process to decelerate to a near standstill, reverting to its natural, sluggish pace.


    "Unless?" He arched a brow, faking a puzzled expression. "Let''s hear it."


    "You either want to negotiate," I rasped through a ragged exhale, every word a struggle beyond words, "or you never intended to fight humans at all. Right from the start" My voice wavered, filled with the weight of exhaustion and the direness of the situation, as my body trembled, barely holding on.


    There was no point in delaying our conversation. I could not syphon any Arcanum present in the air. It was inaccessible. I had already expelled any thought of fighting back. Because I might''ve had the slightest of chances if I was on 100% of my Arcanum reserves.


    "Interesting choice of words." He took a step forward. He was standing on the surface of the viscid, syrupy liquid that was subtle holding me in place. As he walked, the water body? underneath let out loud wet squelches. "Or should I say an interesting line of thought?"


    A step he never took brought him right in front of me. His form was towering over me, looking down with no visible emotion on his face. I kept my back straight, refusing to neither bend underneath the growing ache in my spine due to the symbiote''s attack a day ago nor the growing pressure of Jayden''s aura that weighed down slowly at me like a boulder.


    "That is a question to be left to your own interpretation of my words." I spoke again, keeping my words measured. "Afterall, I am not the one with options in the current scenario."


    He looked down at me with a frown. He was quite tall and looking up at him tired my neck. However, just as the silent stare down was about to get suffocatingly oppressive, he replied. However, it was strange.


    It was oddly familiar, like a whisper of the past. Someone I had talked to. Someone whose voice would follow me, even after her death.


    Jayden''s looming shadow had wilted and a wave went through his entire skin. It felt like a million different bugs were crawling right underneath his skin, each mandible and sensory appendage''s silhouette marked along the pale skin.


    Before¡­ I could look away, or even blink, the tall stature shrivelled down, like a person disappearing behind the silk curtain in a magic trick. His clothes undulated in the air for a few seconds before plopping with a squishy sound.


    But before it could make contact, I blinked- hesitatingly, and it was gone too.


    A voice. Like a sharp knife slithered across my skin, raising gooseflesh across my body.


    I didn''t bother to turn around. There was no killing intent. And even if it was subdued, there was no reason for me to panic. It was better to stand in place and save as much breath as I could.


    In the far distance, far beyond the ''walls'' of this Technique Deployment, across the sky, the towering translucent dome¡ªI felt something. A source of power. A source that felt like my own, yet so distinct... brutish that I dislodged the idea from my mind.


    It was inching closer. With every second.


    Closing in while tearing the fabric that separated us, battering the atmosphere itself. I couldn''t tell what it was. Was it the effect of Michael and Ed fighting?


    I couldn''t tell. My senses weren''t heightened enough to tell such intricacies apart.


    "So, you know how it feels to be on the other side of the cutting board, human?"


    It was a familiar voice. I shouldn''t have doubted my senses. The cause was Jayden Cromwell, of course, but the voice did not belong to him.


    I slowly turned my head to my left, looking in a straight line to my shoulder. A head peaked in, slightly tugging at my roughed-up sleeve.


    As I looked down, I let out a deep, shaky breath.


    It was a woman.


    A woman well past her prime.


    Her long violet hair, roughed up and tangled, cascaded in disarray of interwoven strands of white and silver.

 49: Unilateral Hegemony (â…¡)

    Her long violet hair, roughed up and tangled, cascaded in disarray of interwoven strands of white and silver.


    Pallid and marred by the passage of time, her skin had moved way past the rigidity of rigour mortis, hanging down with an odd looseness.


    The once violet eyes held a glassy, vacant stare, framed by dark circles, as if she had been awoken from a deep slumber.


    Everything about her was creepy.


    Lips cracked and bloodless, fingernails dirt-encrusted and broken, limbs thin and frail, yet eerily animated with a life beyond the norms established around the living and the dead.


    But what caught my attention the most was the mark on her neck. The deep wound I had inflicted as I slit her throat. My fingers were still imprinted across her face. A contusion.


    When a blunt force trauma occurs, blood vessels beneath the skin break and leak blood into surrounding tissues. This causes discolouration and without the circulation to clear it, the bruise remains visible.


    She was looking at me with a sweet look which sent a horrid tremor run across my spine.


    She was the first demon I had vanquished in this world who was now caught in the twilight between life and death.


    "I have been, yes... a few times." I replied, ignoring the queasy feeling in my gut.


    Killing was not an immoral aspect. It could be justified. But I never knew looking at the face of someone I had killed would make me this uncomfortable.


    "That''s no fun."


    The voice changed once again. This time it was oddly gruff and raspy. As I looked to my right, a short statured woman with a square face was standing, her hands oddly hairy for a woman. She had long dirty brown hair and the most prominent feature on her face¡ªwithout a sliver of doubt¡ªwas her flared nose.


    You could hide a gun in that thing!


    A quiver was attached to her back and a bow was strapped around her wide, hulking body.


    Not very feminine if you asked me.


    "Why did you kill the old woman? Intuition? Well thought out plan? Self-gathered Intel? Insider information?"


    She continued to speak; her eyes dead. They were devoid of life.


    As I looked around myself, there were around a few hundred small graves.


    Two of them seemed to be empty, like the top had been dug out instead of having the raised grave mound.


    "She doesn''t seem to be important." I replied. I could push for Jayden''s motive here. But I had to be careful. Arcanum was floating in the air, like a million different array of weapons and the smell of death was stagnantly hanging in the air, heavy.


    "She wasn''t." The voice changed as this time it was already standing away from me, fiddling with a lump of rock floating on the syrupy liquid beneath our feet. "I am not interested in her, at all." He scoffed to himself as if the thought itself was ridiculous. "What I am interested in is your line of thought. What was the reason behind it." The ugly looking dwarf¡ªGunnar, I remembered¡ªspoke.


    From the corner of my eye, I watched as the third grave''s mound began to collapse inward. The solid earth caved as if it were nothing more than a hollow shell, the mud cascading down into the void like a dark, gummy waterfall. It fell with a muffled thud, leaving the ground above eerily flat and with a gaping hole, devoid of any trace that it had ever been disturbed.


    "A fleeting thought." I replied and his intent hardened, weighing down at me like a giant hammer. "Force won''t make me change my answers." I kept my back straight, ignoring the ache in my spine. It felt like it would snap in half.


    The man¡ªGunnar, or rather Jayden¡ªlet out a hearty chuckle, his voice much gruffer, matching the dead dwarf. The pressure dissipated as he looked back down again and started to fiddle with the lump of rocks again.


    I noticed it was the same weapon that had returned to dust after I killed him. The weapon that could manifest out of thin air. The same one as Ed, but much, much weaker.


    "It was common sense." I started speaking, taking in the poor-quality air. "You won''t start a conversation with two strangers just like that." I paused as I felt a singular electric field flicker to life around me before disappearing, vanquished by the absolute authority of Jayden''s Technique Deployment. "She was nervous. And fell into the white-haired guy''s feet after deducing he was one of the Cromwells."


    Gunnar¡ªJayden¡ªtook a step forward and he was then right in front of me, orange eyes looking deep into mine. I heard the clump of rocks, mud and gravel slip and another grave caved in.


    He now had the appearance of the same dwarf that had first warned us about the powder along the road that led to the Black Pit and then later was the first one to die in the pub.


    "So, you posed as one of us? Good idea." Although it was physically impossible for those void-like orange eyes to shine, I was quite sure they would be sparkling if he was himself.


    I think I know how his Technique Deployment works. The usage of people one had killed to endlessly swarm them. No matter how weak that woman was, no matter how easy it was to kill Gunnar, if I had an endless version of them swarm me, I would be defeated eventually.


    Especially when I can''t even draw out on ambient Arcanum. Since he could take shape and reanimate their corpses as well, I am sure that element of uncertainty would be quite fatal.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Not exactly a good idea." I raised my voice, the slight, buzzing static of sound waves suddenly getting abuzz in my ears for a second... or two before disappearing again.


    "How so?" He asked, tilting his head as he had now taken the shape of a petite dwarven woman. She barely had clothes on and the single piece of clothing she was holding on her chest fell on the liquid below. Her giant breasts sagged down, like a deflated balloon.


    She stood in a strange manner, poking her lower end forward, as if trying to make me see it.


    Keeping my eyes level, matching with the woman from the brothel whose feet I had severed in that frenzied state, I replied. "It was a hunch before but now it is quite clear after looking at you."


    "Hmm?" The naked dwarf tilted her head, taking a step forward.


    Her body stank, the flesh that was in the middle of getting decomposed saggy and repulsive to even look at. The tips of her breasts had turned purplish red and were droopy, like mournful banners of mortality.


    I took an instinctive step back.


    "Horns." I spoke, hoping he would stop walking in my direction.


    It was a revolting sight¡ªa dead naked woman, who is a man inside, just wearing her skin. It wasn''t morally conflicting, no, but it was her presence that made my skin crawl. I''d take a gander at Gunnar''s appalling mug any day over hers.


    Fortunately, the disgusting woman stopped and then disappeared. The next moment, another grave caved in, and a mammoth shadow extended, covering my entire body.


    His words this time turned unintelligent¡ªalmost¡ªlike a baby attempting speech but with an extremely coarse edge, as though sandpaper were scraping inside its tiny throat.


    I couldn''t understand what he said but even without looking directly, I could tell it was the first Troll I had killed.


    "As far as Demon hierarchy goes¡ªfrom what I have observed, the shape and size of horns is a major indicator of one''s status. Ed, your general, said his mom was a peasant. She had stub-like horns. Ed had long pointed horns. Longer and sharper than his mother''s." I paused and hummed; the subtle static still persistent in my ear. "And he mentioned his father was a Duke. Now you, the auspicious Lord Cromwell not only has even longer horns but is also sporting another pair."


    Again, his flesh moved, and he morphed into a young demon. Two goat-like horns sprouted from his temples.


    "Your point is?" His voice was boyish, and he had an innocent smile over his face.


    "Why did she deem us as Lord Cromwell, or thought we had any kind of association with Cromwells when we didn''t have any horns at that time?"


    The boy tilted his head. "She could''ve just assumed that you were trying to be¡­ undercover." He argued after a long pause..


    "In your own territory?" I paused, letting out a steady breath as my heart stabilised and the numbing pain began to slowly seep out. "Checks while disguising as a normal person would be a good approach to keep check and balance when a huge fleet like yours is mobilised, but disguising as a human is not a very good idea, is it? Especially when the hate for humans runs so deep in your veins that you are not even willing to reason. Even for a second."


    He let out a brattish cackle. The laughter bounced off the walls¡ªif there were any¡ªof this confined space.


    "Do I give off that impression?" He asked, taking a nonchalant skip over a brown blade of grass that was poking out of the liquid.


    I turned around and shrugged my shoulders. "I guess?"


    Suddenly the ground beneath me solidified, and then cracked, like a famine-stricken land. It was grey in colour. Mud caked foliage spread out through the entirety of the inner domain of the Technique Deployment.


    It looked like a... boneyard in the heart of a stormy forest night.


    "You are smarter than you look." He spoke, this time in his own voice and body as he wrapped an arm around me and leaned against my shoulder. "But you see, I am different from others."


    The static began to intensify.


    "You are?"


    "You''d be surprised." His breath was cold against my warm skin that burnt with fever. "Mindless killing, holocausts, vandalism. I understand quite well that these result in drastic ramifications on both sides." He spoke as he left the support of my body and walked forward.


    "I had the notion you¡ªall of you would give priority to emotions over rationality."


    "I am not a part of the Sylvan Fellowship!" He exclaimed, as if really offended and enraged at the notion. As I tilted my head, a raise of his brow indicated confusion as to why I am not aware about this ''Sylvan Fellowship'' thing. "Ah, right!" He clasped his hands together. "Your Gods had already committed the day-light robbery by then. You won''t know."


    If I had to take the literal meaning of the word, it can just mean as a congregation of races that are associated with nature. Since Sylvan is derived from a Latin word, which literally means forest. It could mean that this whole "fellowship" is a collective group of races like Elves, Noble Frost Giants, Fairies...the list could go on.


    And if Elves are a part of them, Jayden''s reaction could also be considered as justified.


    "But it''s a long topic so I won''t brood much on it." He spoke as a smirk formed on his face. "After all, your own body is eating you up."


    A faint, unsteady breath slipped from my lips.


    He was right. The lack of Arcanum for extended amounts of time could cause the nodes to go in a frenzy and collapse in on itself. Since Arcanum is like air to the nodes, just like how air is for the lungs.


    "I am guessing you want to negotiate something with me."


    "Right!" He clasped his hands loudly this time.


    As if on cue, underneath the brooding sky the mounds of graves began to collapse inward. All at once.


    The earth shuddered as the decrepit, makeshift tombstones toppled over. From inside these gaping graves, half-rotten corpses clawed their way to the surface, their hands that were half muscle and half visible bone, breaking through the soil.


    With grotesque, wobbly movements like someone was forcing them to move, the reanimated dead rose, their hollow eyes looking at me. The air was instantly filled with the bitter reek and the eerie sound of bones creaking back to life.


    "I have a few terms. Conditions, if you would."


    "An ultimatum, you mean?" I asked and suddenly I felt the air electrify.


    "That is one way to put it."


    "Then you are talking to the wrong person. I do not have the authority to approve of your conditions."


    He paused and regarded me for a while. "You don''t have direct power, but I am sure you are related to the power that can make it happen."


    I shifted in my place, the flat ground now morphed into quicksand. "Not bad. But I still don''t get it."


    "What?"


    "Conditions for what? You don''t think you have what it takes to overpower humanity unless we accept your terms?"


    "Oh, no, no, no." He laughed, genuinely. "No, I won''t be such a fool. I, of all people, know better than to underestimate humans." He spoke as he removed a glove from his left hand. It was badly charred, to the point that it didn''t even look like a hand. The nails seemed to have been burnt and then stitched into the skin. "I got this from Eve." He spoke, his eyes narrowing. "I was a little boy at that time, yes. But I never thought much of her. Turned out I was wrong. So, so wrong." He laughed once again. "And to think I had the audacity to think of killing Adam."


    "You are alive, at least. That says something."


    "She had mercy on me." He instantly corrected me. "That woman was said to not take life as easily as that vile abomination." His eyes sharpened as he peered into mine. "You look...and sound exactly like him."


    "I am flattered."


    The corner of his lip curved into a smirk. "This effortless display of nonchalant superiority. It feels so ingrained into you that it could pass for ancestry. Wouldn''t faze me if you claimed to be his forebear."


    I deadpanned. "We all are."


    "Hmm?" He hummed and then waved off as if he didn''t want to bother with this topic anymore. Slipping his hand back into the glove. "To answer your question...I want to have ties with humans." He suddenly spoke, and a hush descended inside the chaotic mess of clattering bones and muffled moans of the reanimated corpses. "Peaceful relations. War, I believe, is not the way to solve things."


    "And?"


    "And of course," he sneered, "I want the main seat inside your council."


    I don''t think I should cringe him out by telling him what the seven families are called.


    "You want to monopolise human power against Sylvans."


    "I wasn''t wrong when I said you''re smart." He paused. "But you fail to see the bigger picture. As I said, war is not what I desire."


    As the static in my ear reached to a disturbing crescendo, I cracked out a smirk¡ªor at least I tried to.


    "Regardless of whatever you mean..." I paused, getting his full attention, "...if I was you, I would put some flexibility in my conditions."


    "Hmph! You believe you''re entitled to make such demands?"


    The corpses¡ªzombies or whatever they were closed in on me as the quicksand began to solidify.


    "I think I have stalled for enough time." I spoke as I pointed towards the sky. "You still have time to make amendments. Because...that man is unable to make logical reasons." I spoke as a tear formed in his Technique Deployment and the dimensions started to twist.


    The single scenario where my survival was guaranteed was finally happening. The external factor. He was here.


    Like standing inside a soap bubble, I watched the entire construct as it existed in a higher dimension, collapse, as two giant azure hands ripped the domain like a child wildly tearing away at a piece of fragile paper, reverting it back to the original dimensions of the world.


    Arcanum rushed like a tidal wave into my heart and the queasy feeling began to subside.


    Jayden looked at me and then upwards. "Oh, hoho." He let out an amused chuckle as a single man stood on a black cloud that thundered with crimson lightning.


    The dimensions began to twist as once again Jayden''s Technique Deployment began to take shape.


    Jayden looked at me. "I guess this is who I have to discuss with?"


    I shrugged. "You''d be lucky if you can make out a valid, logical argument with him."


    Just as Jayden was about to open his mouth to talk, a few words reverberated through the air particles themselves. Despite it being a murmur.


    The man in the sky''s light brown hair was waving wildly as he closed his fingers, interlocking them and turning them inwards before twisting them around. Like a tesla coil.


    He looked down, different coloured lightning coursing through his olive eyes.


    "Technique Deployment: Thunderforge Coffin."


    I snapped my eyes shut as the entire world turned crimson.

 50: Hyperbola

    Arthur Olvasen POV:


    "Technique Deployment: Thunderforge Coffin."


    Blue, crimson, amethyst and white sparks frayed between my father''s fingertips that were interlocked in the shape of a Tesla Coil as they formed a complex layout, rippling outwards and creating a shimmering, electric armature in the air.


    The air crackled, sky darkened, and a low hum of a thunder, not yet manifested, completely filled the atmosphere.


    His spell had ripped open a space into Jayden''s Technique Deployment.


    As soon as the words left Aksel''s mouth, his Technique Deployment started to overpower what remained of Jayden''s half-destroyed TD as it manifested in a peculiar space amongst an infinite lattice of interlocking electric fields and lightning bolts that left my senses reeling.


    The environment seems to stretch and fold in impossible ways, with arcs of electricity dancing between invisible points in space.


    As the extremes of the TD began to close, everything started to feel disorienting.


    The "walls," if they can be called that, seemed to extend and contort in ways that defied Euclidean geometry.


    An invisible force gently pushed me back to the precipice, away from the hammering bolts of lightning that scorched and seared everything with touch of a mere second.


    My back touched something that was solid, liquid and¡­gaseous at the same time.


    When I reached out, my hand vanished into what appeared to be empty space, only to reappear in an entirely different location.


    This was odd. I knew my father¡ªAksel Olvasen was the first one in the past 12 generations to finally manifest a Technique Deployment, and I knew it was a complicated phenomenon. But I had never even fathomed it would be this complex¡­and jarring.


    While Ed''s TD was much more brutish, sealing away the target''s Arcanum to slowly make the body eat itself, Aksel''s felt much more technical.


    Which is quite ironic if you think about the fact that this man can''t think straight for any more than a few fleeting seconds. Generously speaking.


    My attention returned back to the boundary as I receded my hand.


    It was like observing a shadow that doesn''t correspond to its object as every surface around me exhibited the same anomalous behaviour.


    With my senses still disoriented and my mind struggling to comprehend the odd space I was in, I tried to take a step forward.


    The surroundings shifted, suddenly and seamlessly.


    It was extremely jarring and I almost got hit by a stray bolt of crimson lightning.


    Usually stepping forward decreases the distance to the target destination.


    However, as I stepped forward it resulted in the manifestation of new walls which further morphed¡­expanding like some complex geometrical shape. A weird series of ever-evolving chambers, each transiently stable before transforming into another.


    Electrical energy surges coursed like frenzied snakes through the ground, creating a web of glowing, conductive paths that all converged and met right underneath Aksel''s feet that were now touching the ground of his half-manifested Technique Deployment.


    The air was charged with static electricity causing our hair to stand on edge.


    And just as Jayden''s Arcanum was about to combust like the column of lava from a mountain''s funnel, the lattice of electricity expanded rapidly in a bright white glow.


    With a sudden, forceful pull, the lattice contracted and then exploded outward, creating a blinding flash of light.


    I snapped my eyes shut on a pure reflex, the blinding light causing my eyes to feel like burning coals were placed on them. Even when I snapped them shut, the area behind my eyes seemed to be flooded with a bright white light, as if seeping through my skin.


    A minute passed. And then another. I wasn''t even sure if I was alive. Everything was...white. Like standing in a sterile, white room. After a few moments of using magnetic fields to push away the bombardment of light waves, I finally saw it.


    The surreal, augmented dimension of interlocking electric fields and lightning bolts.


    Electrical columns warped and twisted, forming pathways that looped back on themselves. Aksel stood at the centre acting as a conductor of the immense electric energy that made the air drum.


    I looked around myself.


    Cubes within cubes, each embedded within layers of space that folded onto themselves. The whole structure appeared alive, convulsing with an eerie rhythm.


    He glanced in my direction, nodded and then looked down at Jayden, frowning. "The nerve of you is applaudable." He hissed, his killing intent giving way to more lightning to crash in random places, leaving charred ground and burning the air itself with the sheer heat of the lightning bolts.


    Jayden looked in my direction, "You were quite right." He laughed and turned his direction towards him. "Surely your son doesn''t take after you in smarts!"


    With a wide sneer he raised his own hand and brought the ring-shaped hand sign close to his eye.


    "Technique Deployment: Requiem of Eternal Rest."


    As he spoke, a murky black darkness started to fill the air from his side. Like a tidal wave, it started as a slight ripple right behind him before starting its crawl upwards, fighting against the lacerations caused by crimson lightning into the rising inner barrier of his own Technique Deployment.


    He can use it more than once¡­this is bad.


    A sickly green aura rose like mist all around Jayden and the familiar sound of bones creaking intermingled with the constant backdrop of thunderclaps.


    "Save your breath." Aksel seethed through his teeth as he raised his hand. A spear made of pure lightning started to form in his palm. Like knitting a sweater, threads of multi-coloured streaks coiled like sentient beings, moulding...shaping themselves.


    Aksel''s fingers tightened around the long base of the spear as the sparks solidified, taking a coherent shape rather than the ethereal state they were in while knitting themselves together.


    "Fascinating." Jayden smirked as he raised his hands to the side. The giant cross behind him glowed and at the same time the stench of death grew increasingly overwhelming.


    Monsters¡ªgiant worms, centipedes, wyrms, Orcs¡ªand sentient creatures¡ªyoung and old demons, trolls, dwarves¡­a few elves¡ªalike began to reanimate behind him, forming a giant wave of unintelligent, dead beings that locked their dead gazes on Aksel''s electrified form.


    Perhaps I was wrong about the interpretation of his Technique Deployment, since there were monsters in his army as well. And since the man he was facing never encountered a monster, it was impossible for my theory to be correct.


    As if realising my confusion, he glanced at me. "Inside my Technique Deployment I can summon anything. Even those that are bound to fail." He smirked. "When you plucked the Queen''s prongs out and destroyed the entire adjacent skin, did you have a specific reason for it?"


    Aksel''s eyes shifted from him to me. It didn''t look like he understood anything that was happening, but his eyes were inquisitive, as if curious about what Ed was referring to.


    "Back at the Keep¡­" I began, "¡­when I casted Hailstorm and escaped afterwards, I was fishing for something." I paused and saw him tilt his head. No one attacked. Both Ed and Aksel¡ªfather''s barriers were clashing, fighting for dominance and space-time continued to flip in and out, causing discordance everywhere, but they themselves remained still amidst this God forsaken phenomenon.


    "Your resurrection...necromancy, it isn''t exactly bringing the dead back to life, or specifically, just yours is different." I pointed at Gunnar who was still visible from my vantage point, his form spilling in and out of existence as the cuboid¡­no, tesseract-like inner-domain of Aksel began to gain dominance. "You are them¡­ and they are you." I paused once again, letting my own words sink in. So, I, myself, could make sense of it. "A Divine Covenant. A sacrifice of the resurrected servants'' half-alive will in exchange for you to inherit their share of¡­skills. Powers. Or a portion of their memories. I couldn''t understand it back then and that was why I went all out against the Wujin army to destroy the Queen. To render her unable in any form to be resurrected later on and be used to control millions of mindless, blood-thirsty soldiers. Since the soldiers, even after being resurrected, are unable to function without a Queen."


    A bitter taste filled my mouth. "I suppose all that was for nothing. You can steal its commandeering skill in exchange for the loss of intelligence from the Queen. Even though it is only inside the Technique Deployment."


    Jayden''s smile only widened. "I knew it!" He hid his face behind his hands and looked up, as if revelling in some kind of ecstasy. "Not only strength that far surpasses Category 4, you have something mysterious as well. Deep within you. Something far more ominous than that intuition of yours!" He cackled as father shifted.


    The lightning spear in his hand vibrated subtly, not just humming with the familiar sound of a spark manifesting, crackling through the air and then fizzling out, but resonating with a frequency that tingled through my entire body even after the distance between us that seemed to stretch for miles on end, yet felt to be situated at an arm''s length.


    The echo of the cracks, the shadow of its path that could have been taken, or perhaps will be taken, invisible to me, created a lattice of motion that folded back on itself. It was extremely jarring.


    I tried to not focus on the twisted dimensions. But it cleared a few things. Ed was holding back on his Technique Deployment back then. To not kill me immediately. The reason why he erected it was so Michael''s brash nature won''t cause any problems for our discussion.


    "Ah, right!" Jayden''s golden eyes gleamed. "I said it before. You''re just like him." He paused. "Adam. You''re just like him!"


    "Shut your mouth, demon." Father''s voice bloomed like an explosion inside a vacuum. Silent, but sharp. Destructive. Searing hot against the skin.


    "I do not really wish to fight." Jayden spoke up, his voice¡ªamplified by Arcanum¡ªdrowning out the hullabaloo of lightning swooshing everywhere like a whip. He then looked between me and Aksel. "But you humans¡­you are way too interesting! Let''s entertain each other! Peace negotiations can wait!" The mention of negotiations caused Aksel''s ears to perk as he looked at me.


    "Wait, what? You were discussing about¡ª"


    He was interrupted as hordes of creatures started to make their first moves towards Aksel.


    "You might want to exclude the pup before we fully manifest our Techniques. As much as you might love him, as a father, I, as well, do not want someone so interesting to die as a mere collateral."


    I was about to talk but some kind of pressure¡­super compressed, built up around me, like the very fabric of the space rejecting me. It didn''t seem to be limited to me, my physical body, but the general concept of me. Of Arthur Olvasen.


    I had no idea how to put it exactly into words, but it was strange.


    I wanted to stay, observe this once in a lifetime phenomenon of a fight between Technique Deployment users, but the push was relentless. It felt like being squeezed through an impossibly small gap, forced through a pinhole.


    Overwhelming would be an understatement.


    A tidal wave of spatial distortion fuelled by Arcanum pushed against me.


    I could feel my physical¡­no, my essence that felt like a wisp drifting into ether, being compressed, twisted, forced into an alien form that didn''t fit in this makeshift world or that.


    The dimensions around me started to collapse, the intricate lattice of the tesseract tightening, lightning forming a net all around me, constricting and then green aura overlapping like the final layer of a gift wrap until there was no room left for me.


    Every atom of my being screamed in protest; every molecule stretched to its limit as I was expelled.


    And then, I was falling.


    Not just free falling, but being...I couldn''t tell. I couldn''t describe it.


    The events that happened were too quick for my tired mind to keep up with. The only thing I could register was Jayden''s somewhat perverted excitement, mention of me belonging to Category 4, and then his attention diverging from me to fighting Aksel.


    There was no coherence in behaviour, as if the twisted dimensions had twisted their behaviour as well.


    The panorama compressed, the colours bleeding into each other as I was thrust out¡­spit out, tumbling through a few seconds of a murky black void and back into this... limited existence.


    The transition was a violently jarring shift from the fluidity of higher dimensions to the rigid confines of the current one.


    I hit the ground hard, gasping for breath, the air thick and heavy compared to the ethereal nothingness I had just been a part of until now. My chest heaved up and down violently, hyperventilating.


    Taking hold of the Ambient Arcanum¡ªto the best of my ability¡ªI tried to control it, and my breathing, filling my primary node.


    After a few seconds of rest, I finally took the first lookup.


    The clash of Technique Deployments was invisible to the naked eye. I couldn''t even feel a single distortion into the ambient Arcanum that could give away their presences.


    Looking down towards my hands, I saw myself perched atop a guard Wujin''s body that had toppled over.


    The ground was roughed-up, charred¡ªlong lines of black originating from one place and then disappearing before reappearing over the other side of the field. A byproduct of the friction caused by Slipstream every time I had blipped in and out of the quantum state.


    Now that I think about it, I was lucky the Wujins were not spread out that much. Since I can''t use Slipstream over long distances due to many natural reasons. And also because of the limitations to my physical body.


    I felt my eyelids close, fatigue catching up to me but the dull throb throughout my body had begun to subside, courtesy of the Arcanum existing in purest form in this place, unlike Earth''s which was less potent and muddled.


    My gaze washed over the entire battlefield, taking in the dead, prone forms of the Wujins and then slowly trailing towards the two Arcanum signatures¡ªMichael and Ed engaged in a bare-knuckle brawl; Ed''s Nightcrackle nowhere to be seen.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    I focused around them but couldn''t find Ed''s strange sword anymore.


    There were too many new elements to Eden that we were unaware of.


    The obvious difference in behaviour and approaches of high-ranking individuals, unmentioned weapons which can manifest out of thin air...as if stored in a separate, pocket dimension. "If" you can even call it pocket dimension.


    The small hill behind Michael lurched as the waves of grey flames, in tandem with Ed and Michael''s intent pounded like hammer against an anvil.


    Despite the distance between us, I felt Ed''s eye focus on me, piercing through it and his killing intent flared tangibly.


    His arm swung and a small arc of decay flames swished through the air.


    The total distance between us was around 60 or so feet. The arc of flames blinked 10 times as it was passed through a filter of Arcanum barriers I erected, slowly whittling down its power. It was something I had learned from Ed''s chainmail''s defence barrier.


    By the time it had reached me it was nothing more than hot wind carrying a decaying property which was swatted away by the arc of lightning that extended from my body and then fizzled away.


    Michael''s fist collided against Ed''s face as his entire body caved in before being propelled back with such force that it shook the entire mountain behind.


    He looked back at me. His shirt was torn all over and blood streamed down from the corner of his lips, left shoulder and just beneath his ribs where a slash extended from right where his solar plexus would be and towards his latissimus.


    But it was shallow. Shallow enough to not kill him.


    His eyes were gleaming and the Arcanum around him was flaring, more and more. He felt hesitant, distant. As if not wanting to reveal or fight much in front of me. But he had no other choice.


    I had pitted him against Ed for a few selected reasons.


    As I watched Michael take and deliver hits, I observed what I needed. From the start.


    The corrections in my assumptions regarding Michael''s Divine Covenant. The rationale behind the false pretence, presumably, of refraining from killing, the truth about brute physical strength that seems to supersede any human and much more.


    I couldn''t tell before because of various uncertainties, but it''s quite clear now. The ''sacrifice'' for the physical boost was indeed his Arcanum amount. His physical attacks were doing less damage now, comparatively, but the amount of Arcanum swelling out from him was not allowing the efficiency to fall down.


    He was still not using his Arcane Art.


    But I supposed for the Whites, using their Arcane Art is something they don''t exploit very often. And while it can cause the highest form of destruction known to mankind, it is also quite harmful to the user himself.


    Ed tried to shrug Michael away, but he held him by his collar and pulled Ed towards himself, driving his knee into his ribs. The blow did not send shockwaves, which were usually created by the pure brute strength, however, Ed fell to his knees, blood gurgling out of his mouth in huge amounts.


    Michael was relying more and more on his Arcanum with each passing moment.


    That confirms it. I suppose I have no further need to observe him any further.


    As the battlefield continued to rumble, I tried to look for Jayden and my father. There were still around, I could tell that much. The tingle on my skin like a bug was crawling on it was enough evidence to let me know that, but I couldn''t put my finger on exactly where.


    It was like they existed everywhere. Above¡ªbeyond the clouds, beneath¡ªburied underneath layers of dirt and around¡ªlike the air itself.


    I closed my eyes and let my senses expand as an extension of my spell.


    And while usually this spell was enthralling, at the current moment it was leaving my senses reeling with a dissonant intensity.


    Arcanum from different sources was being used in an offensive way, snatching away the usual serenity in the atmosphere and was replaced by the repulsive look of spells weaponizing and launching, destroying...eating away at everything.


    It was strange. I thought I would not care about such things.


    Something so trivial as to what the open space, the Arcanum inhabiting it, looked like. But here I was, feeling a little queasy over the shift in the atmosphere as I picked on micro changes¡ªalmost all of them.


    Residual Arcanum from the clash of Technique Deployments hit my expanded senses like a rogue ball suddenly hitting an eye.


    The sudden impact was jarring as I was taken aback, leaving me blindsided. I felt my senses recoil violently, yanked back as if someone had grabbed hold of them and pulled with all their might.


    My awareness, which had been spreading out like a tangible extension of my body was abruptly condensed back into my physical form.


    But in that brief moment before my senses fully returned, I glimpsed something.


    An Arcanum signature. Far away, amidst the small congregation of trees underneath the shattered platform that we had housed ever since we came to Eden.


    Alone. Trembling. Afraid¡­but bright. So bright that it cut through the smokescreen of Arcanum violently clashing and destroying terrain all around us.


    It was like a full moon, the glow radiating from it piercing through a nimbus of black clouds.


    ''I almost forgot about her.''


    Lightning hissed around me as I augmented my legs before dashing forward. Before long I had reached the place. Weaving through the choppy congregation of trees, I closed in on the Arcanum signature that was pulsing and dying in a rapid succession.


    "Hello." I greeted, removing the dangling branch from a tree that was poking down away from my face as I reached out.


    At the same time the figure suddenly turned around. Eyes shut from sheer panic; a hand blurred like a slap towards my face. Catching it with my left hand, right over the fabric of my attacker''s wrist, I looked down at her.


    "Solid slap. Would have knocked a tooth or two out of my mouth." I smiled...tried to, looking into her eyes that were red, and huge bags made her give a weary look.


    A wave of regret washed over me watching Astrid in this condition. It was all because of me that she was like this.


    I felt my gaze soften as her trembling eyes widened in realisation. Her lips moved to say something, eyes widened even more and when instead of words all that came out was a gasping breath, her eyes suddenly narrowed, shining and the crease of her forehead eased out before her lips quivered and she fell into my arms.


    There was a rawness to her surrender...some kind of unfiltered vulnerability that struck me to my very core.


    I coiled my arm around her shoulder, hesitatingly, the touch¡ªdespite the layer of clothing¡ªsending shivers down my spine.


    Rubbing my hand against her back I hugged her sagging body close and placed my chin on her head. "Deep breaths. Deep breaths." I whispered.


    She didn''t reply, but I could already tell that she was reliving everything from the way she was clutching at my sleeves as firmly as she could. Her knuckles had turned white.


    "Mmmphhfff..." her voice quivered, words drowned out underneath constant sobs and sniffles. "I... I was so scared. I... I can''t do it anymore, Arthur..."


    The effects of the spell were wearing off. The foreign boldness and will to fight monsters while throwing the prospect of death away was a good addition to her character, but it was, nonetheless, not her.


    And it was finally catching up to her.


    (A/n Reference to Chapter 11: Thunderclap - ¢ò)


    I breathed out a shallow breath as I patted her head with the base of my palm, avoiding touching her clean silver strands with my hands that were caked with a mix of blood¡ªboth mine and Wujins''¡ªdirt and grime. It felt like a crime touching her.


    She didn''t deserve it...but then again, nothing is fair. Life isn''t exactly a bed of roses.


    Should I tell her it''s fine if she doesn''t want to do this anymore?


    Or should I say that she should forget about leaving me?


    Or should I just convince her otherwise, contrary to the above two?


    All of these were viable.


    But after staying by my side...does she deserve to be treated like this?


    It was a strange question. And I was quite conflicted about it myself. I normally would''ve done the logical thing until now.


    But I couldn''t. Was this me...actually, me? Or was it just a projection of someone else instilled into my mind by that woman.


    Evening out the frayed strands of Astrid''s hair, I squeezed her once against myself, jolting her to her senses.


    I needed to answer now. The silence was getting almost stifling.


    She sniffled, breaking from the hug but still leaned against me, her forehead pressed against my chest.


    Her hair obscured her features as they fell from the sides like a curtain.


    "Sor..." I paused.


    Genuinely apologising, even if it was my fault, felt strange. It sounds pretentious to even think about and makes me think if I am any different than Michael. But at the same time, why should I apologise?


    Right and wrong deeds do not exist. It''s a matter of perspective.


    Right?


    Even so...I felt like...


    "I am sorry." The apology came out as naturally as breathing from my lips. I had expected it to fall flat. Worsening...straining our uncustomary relationship. But it wasn''t exactly like that. And the undertone to it surprised even me.


    With her forehead touching my chest and the rest of her body powerlessly sagging backwards, she moved once, sniffling and then wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Before I knew it, she removed her head and then with as much force as she could, struck it back into my chest.


    "Ouc..."


    Well, that hurts.


    I sometimes forget she''s just a child.


    "Like hell I''d accept your...cough, cough...apology..." She cried out but her voice creaked making the whole situation more sardonic than serious.


    "Fair enough." I replied.


    An expression of pure disbelief appeared on her face. "HAHHH!? What do you mean, fair enough???"


    "I would''ve opened a dictionary, but I broke my pho..."


    "That''s not what I mean!"


    Oh! She''s talking about why I said that.


    "Well, I am acknowledging the lack of acknowledgement of my apology." I tried to explain. "A mere sorry won''t change the trauma you have experienced or the things you had to see."


    She scowled. "I..." She paused. She tucked her hair behind both her ears since she had lost her hair pin and was now just loosely resting on her shoulders. And despite the mud stains and the aftereffects of continuous exposure to lack of sleep and close calls with death, she looked just as beautiful as ever. "I died, Arthur. So many times...It''s not just about what I saw..." Her voice took a soft edge, as if she was reliving everything again and again in her mind.


    "Well, you are still breathing."


    "Seriously?"


    "Uhhh..." I most likely should not have said that.


    "Geez..." She wiped the dried trails of tears from her eyes and shook her head.


    Before she could talk, I spoke again. Even though I didn''t mean to. "It would be understandable if you want to quit...after all this. I have been treating you as an expendable commodity until now. So, it''s natural."


    Why would I say that? I couldn''t tell myself. Her mind was blank and there was no thought swirling in it. In this vulnerable state I could somewhat peer into it and know what she was thinking.


    But something stopped me. Was it my conscience?


    Do I even have one?


    Her brows arched upwards. "Quit..." she savoured the word, and then looked up at me with a frown, "...and then what? Who do I have left other than you, Arthur?"


    Ah...yeah. Perhaps I forgot midway. Perhaps I got attached.


    Wasn''t it like this since the start? It''s just how I had constructed our relationship to be. A transactional relationship.


    Empathy had no place in it. It didn''t deserve to be there.


    "True." I replied. "Sorry for assuming."


    She looked down, biting the inside of her cheek. Disregarding my own revulsion to any form of physical¡ªskin to skin¡ªtouch, I placed my hand over her face. It was burning, a colour of red extending from one ear to another.


    "If things don''t go south everything is going to get sorted today. So, don''t worry any further." It felt quite bitter to talk to her like this.


    She looked at me with a confused look, staring intently for a good few minutes. As a strong gust of wind blew bent the trees in our direction, she blinked her eyes a few times before nodding. "Good to hear that."


    "Yeah."


    I replied and then turned away from her. It''s for the best.


    The shadow of thinly lined trees around us was suddenly absorbed into a peculiar shadow as I looked up. Through the canopy of skeletal branches, a bizarre shape loomed overhead¡ªa shadow that defied the norm of the ones I had seen.


    My mind dismissed it as a mere illusion, instinctively, but as I stared harder, I remembered the complexity of the inside of Technique Deployments.


    My mind struggled to understand it, like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. The turning shadow wasn''t flat. It felt alive... like me and Astrid. Just...colourless.


    As I looked up once again, I spotted the Tesseract, visibly shaken and scarred. Cracks ran all along its edgeless body.


    Crimson lightning flickered and crackled, sending arcs of red energy from the crevices in the right half and the other half had multiple protrusions¡ªskeletal structure, with bone-like branches jutting out, white and eerie against the evenly bright sky.


    I was about to turn around towards Astrid but at the same time the air was almost electrified by the sheer force of their conflict.


    As I watched, a crack appeared in the tesseract, a jagged line that split it in two. The sound was sharp, like the snapping of a giant branch, and it echoed through the forest, making me coat my body in a thick sheen of Arcanum. Astrid did the same, but just to be safe, I manifested a small dome of electric and magnetic field around both of us.


    The tesseract shattered, its pieces scattering like shards of glass in every direction.


    From the epicentre of the explosion, two figures emerged.


    My father, Aksel, had a small cut that extended from his left brow and stopped parallel to the base of his nose. Meanwhile Jayden was pretty much unharmed, but the few Wujins and other monsters all crumbled to dust as the tesseract shattered.


    The two of them floated in the air for a brief second and then Jayden said something. Following that, the two of them landed on the ground while sending a huge wave of dust in every direction.


    Even from here, I could tell that Jayden''s Arcanum had dwindled to an extent that even Astrid held more Arcanum than him at this very specific moment.


    "Stay here." I looked over my shoulder and readied myself to sprint in their direction.


    However, she suddenly gripped my hand. "You haven''t misunderstood anything I said...right?"


    Her forehead was creased upwards, worry and many more emotions flashing like a face-paced slideshow in her pale blue eyes. They were mesmerising, but I was reminded of something. There were limits that shouldn''t be crossed. A line, I reminded myself, to not cross. To never get ahead of myself.


    Slowly slipping my wrist away from her grasp, I looked away at the buildup of the Arcanum in the form of a hurricane. "Don''t worry... I haven''t."


    She didn''t reply...or perhaps, even if she did, I didn''t hear it. I was gone before she could blink or think over it.


    My situation didn''t bestow the luxury of pondering over such things. Not now. Not until I had achieved my ambition.


    A grand ambition, in my eyes at the very least.


    As I reached the area where the two had landed, my feet came to a screeching halt.


    The two of them were standing face-to-face, their breathing heavy, their bodies marked with signs of the nigh cataclysmic clash which would''ve levelled the mountains here if they didn''t fight in that enclosed place.


    On the contrary, much to my own surprise, there was a strange calm between them. My father was holding back a delighted smile. Something Jayden, the supposed Lord of Demons, didn''t have the decency of as he showcased his somewhat unscrupulous smirk on full display.


    "I haven''t had this much fun since my wife!" Jayden exclaimed.


    Excuse me? What were these two doing inside? ??


    "I could say the same!" Aksel boomed with the same fervour.


    Hmm. Well, who am I to judge? But doing something so indecent with your opponent mid fight. How wei--


    "My wife almost killed me when we first sparred. After that no one except her was able to challenge me this much!"


    "Hmph! I had a nigh similar experience!"


    Uhhh...


    Aksel looked in my direction.


    "Oh, Arthur." He let out a laugh. "I think we can negotiate with this guy. What do you say?"


    This man can''t be serious. The urge to facepalm rose in me.


    I was about to talk when suddenly Jayden interrupted me.


    "I am ready to discuss on equal terms. After exchanging blows with your father, I think it was unwise of me to think otherwise."


    It was suspicious. Really suspicious.


    Once again, before I could talk, a mountain in the far distance rumbled. As we all turned our heads in its direction, I saw a white-haired boy, his body lodged like a starfish into the mountain''s thick surface as a giant crater formed behind him.


    His once blazing Arcanum signature suddenly fluctuated before fizzling out. Ed took a step forward and placed his hands over his shoulders. Like peeling a flattened, baked cookie from a baking parchment, Ed yanked his twitching body. The space around him cracked as Nightcrackle appeared in his hands.


    Just as he was about to swing his sword at Michael''s arm, he suddenly turned and caught the blade with his bare hand.


    Ed''s eyes widened as Michael smirked at him.


    "About time." A wave of dread filled the entire battlefield as an unbottled amount of Arcanum flooded out of Michael. Like an overflowing chasm. As he gripped his fingers around the sword tightly, visible cracks began to run all along it.


    "Phase 1: Decons¡ª-"


    Before he could chant, Aksel flicked his finger and a bolt of lightning shot towards the two. Both Ed and Michael''s senses flared outwards as they pushed each other, The bolt cleaved the space between them and a around 3 feet wide crevice formed in the ground.


    Both of them looked in our direction. A mild look of panic appeared on Michael''s face as he saw my father standing side-by-side with Jayden. Someone he was supposed to beat.


    It was a justified reaction. Since The Seven Syndicates have always been at each other''s throats. That is more-so the case for us¡ªWhites and Olvasens. The history is filled with people in our families going against each other and causing cataclysms in different parts of the world.


    Now that he was all alone, he was bound to feel some kind of panic or hopelessness. As a matter of fact I would be surprised if he didn''t react in any way.


    Jayden waved his hand and brought middle finger towards his lips which had a peculiar ring over it. "Do not engage in further combat, Ed Vorlith. That is an order."


    The voice, unhurried and as dignified as ever, came immediately afterwards. "Yes, my lord."


    My father, Aksel, pulled his arm as he spoke as well. "Come here as well, Michael. No need to fight anymore."


    I could almost hear Michael swear.


    "Understood, Mr. Olvasen." The subdued undertone of respect felt forced, but I couldn''t blame him, at all. I would be the same.


    I guess.


    As Ed and Michael began to walk in our direction, keeping a safe distance from each other, my father turned towards me.


    "That man seems strong. I can''t see how you did not want to go against him." He paused, his olive eyes trailing against the wounds on my body. "It''s not like you to go against mindless beasts and then straight up against someone who you have no chance against. What''s up?"


    It would seem like my father''s brain is indeed capable of critical thinking. Or basic observation.


    "I had my reasons." I replied. I could reveal my observation of Michael''s Divine Covenant. This was crucial information as this would explain the approach taken by the Whites for generations. However¡­I had no real reason to do so.


    My own family was just as much of my enemy as the Whites. I was not bound to do favours to the Olvasens.


    I pointed my finger at Jayden. "Long story short, because he wanted to talk to me, I couldn''t grasp on a chance to fight Ed."


    "Oh. Alright, that makes sense."


    As we were talking, Jayden suddenly clasped his hands together and turned towards me. "Putting that aside, let us depart immediately."


    "Depart?" I raised a brow at Aksel, rather than Jayden.


    "We are going to his domain." Aksel remarked as he looked up at the sky. "Until the Frontier completely opens. For negotiations."


    It would be several days on Earth. With even Aksel gone, it is possible that others might either come here¡­which is less likely, or¡­they can attack our house in Bergen.


    It didn''t really irk me. If anything, I could be liberated from that woman. Yet, somehow¡­that house itself¡­


    It feels like there is still a part of me. Buried deep underneath the layers of soil, sediments¡­underneath the hidden chambers. A part of what made me¡­me. A human.


    The sound of Astrid catching up to us made me shake my head as I got rid of the rather philosophical thoughts.


    "Ah, you." Aksel pointed at Astrid behind me. "Good job leaving the small gap open for me. I knew I could depend on you."


    I turned around to face Astrid. "What small gap?"


    "Uhh¡­I made sure that the rift I entered through would be closed once I go inside."


    A realisation dawned on me. It was opening. Like a flower blooming from its epicentre, the dome of Frontier was about to break. The first place to get merged. It was about to¡­


    "If you want to do negotiations, you better hurry up." I spoke up as even Michael and Ed caught up to us and stood a few metres away.


    Pointing up at the sky, I spoke as everyone''s eyes widened. "The Frontier is about to break. And since it follows Earthen time...we might only have a few hours. A day at maximum." I declared as Jayden frowned.


    "Then let''s make haste. We shall immediately leave for Lawold." He smiled brightly as he extended his arms to the side in a welcoming gesture. "The City of the Lost Moon."

 51: City of Lost Moon

    Lawold.


    The Royal Capital of the domain that the Cromwells presided over. Also known as ''The City of Lost Moon.''


    Contrary to its name, the city did not lack a moon.


    As a matter of fact, the moon hung unusually large and low, its enrapturing glow casting a bright blue light everywhere. It almost seemed as if the moon was dipping into the river that bisected the city, much like the sun at the time of Dusk.


    The river flowed seamlessly, without making a noise, right in the middle of what seemed like the two parts of Lawold, the moon casting a long, enchanting reflection into the pristinely clear water body.


    Buildings of varying heights and styles lined the right portion of the riverside, their facades adorned with simple, yet effective patterns and glowing lanterns.


    Even at this distance, the hustle and bustle of people was visible as markets were brimmed with soft music of a bard''s instrument filling the air.


    ''The lights here are unusually bright.''


    This was the first thought that appeared in Arthur''s mind as he looked at the otherwise breathtaking view of the city.


    The journey from "The Keep" to "Lawold" was finished in the span of a few seconds. After a few moments of back-and-forth with his father, Aksel somehow made Arthur convinced that there was no hidden trick behind Jayden''s invitation.


    Arthur had somewhat guessed that both were men who recognised power and respected it, but his own sceptical nature made it almost impossible for him to completely trust Jayden. There was also the matter of General Ed Vorlith.


    What Arthur had done could be counted as a necessary measure for survival, but for Ed, it might be an unforgivable matter. Since it was his mother. Even though he acted so indifferent towards it.


    ''It might just be a matter of his ego.'' Arthur continued to think to himself. ''Well, I guess I just need to be really cautious around him.''


    The faint hum of the Warp Gate brought him out of his thoughts as he glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention back to the view in front of him.


    The Warp Gate was what teleported them here. And while the logic and mechanics behind it remained elusive to Arthur¡ªfor now¡ªhe didn''t really bother to pay much heed to it anyways. It was quite natural for people in Eden to make such things.


    The comparison of Magical Development between Earth and Eden can''t even be described as ''a droplet in the biggest ocean,'' just like how Eden''s technology couldn''t be compared to Earth''s. They were thousands upon thousands of years of technological revolutions behind Earth.


    But unlike humans, they did not have the misfortune of starting everything from scratch. Hence, the disparity in progression did not equate to actual numerical difference between the age and era of Earth and Eden currently.


    "It''s so...beautiful." Astrid commented from Arthur''s side as she took a careful step towards the steep edge of the giant hill that overlooked the city.


    Behind Arthur, Michael and Aksel also stepped out from the modest Warp Gate.


    The scintillating grey mosaic that served as the ''Gate'' between the two locations was encased like a mirror between the rectangular granite frame in the middle of nowhere. And when Jayden finally stepped out of the Warp Gate, the scorching runes along its sides started to subside, ever so slightly.


    Before long, the Warp Gate lifted off the tall blades of grass atop the hill, hovering a few feet above the ground. The silvery smooth magical device folded in on itself, transforming into a miniature rhombus-like 2-dimensional shard that landed into Jayden''s palm and then disappeared, seemingly absorbing into his pale skin and disappearing underneath it.


    "Aren''t you supposed to react with ''Kyaa~ Odin''s Beard~! It''s so luminously opulent~'', eh?" Michael''s voice''s pitch dropped as he tried to imitate Astrid, placing his hands on his cheeks and wriggling his body like an excited girl. However, his lips shut tight as he looked over the wide expanse of the giant city rolling for as far as the eye could see and the captivating moon half-peeking out of the river. "Oh damn, it actually is beautiful."


    "Won''t be so beautiful once you know there is no McDonald''s here." Astrid huffed, crossing her arms as the winds caused her silvery strands to wave like a flag.


    "Wow, you are so funny." Michael scoffed. "But a big mac would''ve cheered me up after all the shit this guy put me through." He rolled his eyes, pointing his finger at Arthur.


    Arthur looked over his shoulder. "You could''ve refused."


    "Who could''ve guessed that you would fall so low!" He retorted, breathing furiously through his nose.


    "Ehhhh? What''s happening? What did he do now?" Astrid looked alternatively between the two.


    Before Arthur could reply, Michael waved his hand. "Nothing. Just arguing to pass some time." However, he cast a sharp look at Arthur''s direction as if telling him he knew what his intentions were.


    Meanwhile Arthur just shrugged. The damage was already done. There was no use of worrying even if Michael had figured out what he wanted, despite how obvious it was now.


    "Now, now, gather around!" Jayden''s voice caused the three to turn their attention towards him as Aksel was already standing beside him. "They must have sensed my¡ªour arrival already!" He said exuberantly.


    Jayden was quite happy. For his own personal reasons, yes, but he was also someone who¡ªmuch like the Olvasens¡ªdid not have an indiscriminate hate for other races. Despite the deep scar that Eve had left when Jayden confronted her a few thousand years ago, he did not hold any kind of obsessive grudge towards humans.


    And much like Aksel, he respected those with strength and potential.


    And while he did not have indiscriminate hate for humans, if it was anyone who was not as strong as Arthur, Michael or Aksel, he would not have hesitated to kill them all.


    "Putting the matter of who would''ve sensed your arrival or not, I have to ask." Aksel started speaking. "Why are we on a hilltop?"


    Jayden smiled and then placed his hand over Aksel''s shoulder. Glancing at Arthur from the corner of his eye, he raised a brow.


    "Avoiding panic." Arthur spoke and then looked away.


    "Exactly as Arthur says!" He exclaimed. "If I were to teleport us to the castle, despite me being with you, most of the ministers would pounce at you without wasting a single moment."


    "Oh, fair enough." Aksel shook his head in acknowledgment.


    Astrid shifted and took a step towards Arthur. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder between him and Michael, she followed Arthur''s line of sight. Her pale blue eyes were further illuminated by the bright blue moon that was brighter than the time they had seen at the Keep.


    "What''s wrong...you haven''t talked since we left that place..." Astrid whispered, not turning her head towards Arthur.


    "Nothing." His eyes continued to look in a straight line, piercing through the blue moon and looking at the sky that stretched infinitely beyond it, a barely perceptible sheen of an aurora hanging over it.


    Arcanum was gathering around Arthur. Like an inquisitive animal, seeing if getting near to a human is safe or not, it hovered up and beside him, occasionally drifting closer. And then Arcanum was slipping into his primary node, slightly¡ªalmost unenticingly expanding it. His reserves. Almost as if it was alive.


    Arthur raised his hand, a small congregation of lights blinking in and out around his fingers.


    "Those are Manaflies. Really timid." Jayden spoke up, pointing at the small congregation of the fireflies around Arthur. "They rarely come close to people." His smile widened. "They must''ve sensed something strange or really appealing about your Arcanum."


    "Or because it''s dark." Arthur shrugged it away causing Jayden to raise his hands in a placating manner.


    "Mana? Only weirdo normies use that term." Michael scoffed.


    "It was indeed a commoner traveller who named it." Jayden nodded his head. "Despite the first impressions, you don''t seem to be completely...a brute."


    "HAH!? Watch your tong--"


    Michael was interrupted as a long, faint shadow stretched over them. Immediately afterwards the shadow was accompanied by a deep sound...the rhythmic flapping of something enormous. The beats stirred the air, sending gusts of wind billowing outward, rustling the medium length blades of grass and causing them to look upward.


    Hovering above them, not one, but numerous creatures floated.


    And then with a practised efficiency, they flew down from the shadows, their massive forms causing the velvety pelt beneath their feet to undulate which caused Astrid to jump back in a sudden fright.


    Arthur turned around slowly and narrowed his eyes.


    The creatures in question resembled wyrms, their long, crooked bodies covered in overlapping, cracked scales that gleamed faintly under the moonlight, each one a dark, iridescent hue. Like an almost opaque, lustreless object.


    Their heads were adorned with a pair of curved, horn-like protrusions, framing eyes that glowed softly, reflecting the starlight with a gleam. But it wasn''t predatory. Much to Arthur''s surprise, the notion of hunting and pouncing on people seemed to be totally subdued.


    As Arthur looked at the ten or so wyrms land, he completely turned around.


    ''Merely domesticating them won''t result in such a subdued state of mind...something''s strange.''


    The wyrm''s wings were vast, stretching out to either side with a worn-out leathery texture, the heavy sound of flapping that sent ripples earlier whittling down as they stabilised themselves on solid ground.


    The thin membranes between the skeletal structure of their wings were outlined faintly against the night sky. Their tails, equally long, ending in a wickedly sharp barb that swayed rhythmically as it slithered forward.


    Their backs had huge saddles, securely fastened with thick, leather straps that criss crossed its chest and sides. The saddle was crafted from something that according to Earthen standards could be classified as normal leather, reinforced with metal studs and decorated with swirling patterns.


    It had huge, curved edges and there were various loops and compartments for storing gear and other things a rider could need.


    The creature''s breaths came in deep huffs, misting slightly in the cool night air.


    Three hooded figures unmounted the wyrms and immediately got into a battle stance. However, the swords immediately returned to their scabbards as they saw Jayden glaring at them.


    Falling to their knees, they lowered their heads.


    "Apologies, my Lord. We thought..." the man dipping his head low bit on his lip, avoiding any further talks as Jayden''s intent suddenly weighed down on him.


    After a while of emptily staring at the man, he turned to the other two.


    "Prepare the wyrms." He spoke and looked at Aksel who nodded. "Nostravlun is about to welcome the first humans in thousands of years." He announced as the three demons exchanged exasperated gazes between each other. "Cue the trumpets."


    Arthur let out a heavy breath. ''I don''t like this.''


    Arthur Olvasen:


    After the stupid turn of events due to my father, we were currently now in enemy territory.


    Although what I found more strange and somewhat interesting were the Warp Gates.


    The sensation of passage was subtle, almost too smooth, causing an eerie dissonance to rattle my senses. When my feet finally sank into the soft, ankle-high grass, the abrupt change made me stumble, thrown off balance by the unexpected shift.


    After that, nothing much happened. We saw a few wyrms that were there to carry us, but nothing out of the ordinary.


    When you have seen and fought elves, frost giants, dwarves, trolls and demons, something like a wyrm fails to keep up in the ''ta-daa, surprise!'' department.


    For me, at the very least. And while Astrid and Michael showed totally opposite reactions to my own, they were each distinctively different from one another. Astrid was quite excited, scared and every equivalent giddy feeling after seeing it for the first time, all at once.


    Meanwhile Michael just boasted about how many he had either killed or captured when wyrm riders attacked Washington DC. And while he might not have noticed the slip-up, it means that Whites have captured Eden''s beasts and not reported it.


    Are they trying to make a personal army?


    It can''t be improbable.


    The Seven Syndicates have always tried to own personal Arcanum user armies for ages, but the sheer lack of them made it impossible. The ones they were able to get their hands on were either hidden until they breathed their last or killed during a scouting mission or a skirmish between subjects of two or more families.


    Well, who am I to talk? We have 2 elves locked up in our basement. Even though I didn''t have any say in it, I am still¡ªbegrudgingly¡ªa part of it.


    Currently we were flying. Not by ourselves, of course, but riding on the wyrms that had arrived as a backup when the guards sensed other Arcanum signatures along with Jayden''s which were foreign, alien.


    After a while of whining and a gruesome series of trial-and-error, Astrid was able to mount a separate wyrm as well.


    Aksel¡ªmy father and Jayden were riding in the forefront while me, Astrid and Michael were in the middle with the remaining people flying behind and to our sides, their gazes set on us warily.


    In contrast to the approach of people I had seen in the Keep, the demons here were not as hostile. Just¡­curious.


    I could feel one of them¡ªthe one that was pushed down by Jayden when he tried to attack us¡ªstealing glances at Astrid. Maybe because she was flying closer to him and he had the reins of her wyrm or it could be some other reason. Who knows. But it made me kind of uncomfortable, for some odd reason.


    Michael was riding his with relative ease. His loose hair was flapping wildly in the cold air.


    Turning my attention back to myself, I clung lightly to the saddle, feeling the rise and fall of the wyrm''s scales beneath the leathery seat. The rhythmic motion of its scales was oddly soothing even as the wind whipped my hair around my face.


    High above the ground, the air felt crisp and cool.


    My cheeks tingled with the chill, but the rapid beating of my heart and the Arcanum subtly slipping into my node kept me warm.


    The landscape below blurred into a patchwork of gauzy, unlit yellow, grey and browns, thin streams snaking through the right populated side of Lawold like silver threads.


    I could almost see the small establishment underneath, dotting the unusually bright city, tiny from this height, their thatched roofs glinting in the blue moonlight.


    People¡ªnormal and couples happily trudged across from one place to another, hands in hand. A romantic tune was playing from the Bard''s instrument.


    The music was not loud. It was reaching even up here, but it felt like he was playing it in a vacuum. I could tell because the sound waves were not deteriorating. It stayed the same, from the point of origin and then until here.


    It was strange. And fascinating at the same time.


    My fascination was short-lived as I saw ahead. A massive cathedral-castle loomed right in front of us, not even 3 kilometres away, its towers pointing towards the sky.


    It was dark but the walls were a deep, ancient grey, made from stone blocks as big as average houses on Earth.


    Banners, flapped in the wind, their colours bright against the stark grey stone. I could make out the movement of guards patrolling the battlements, their silver armour glinting like tiny stars.


    Beneath, I felt the wyrm''s muscles flex and contract beneath the saddle. The sensation of flight was exhilarating. It was like swimming through the sky, the air rushing past me, filling my ears with its constant hum which went oddly well with the Bard''s music.


    The wyrm opened its maw as it let out a low rumble, a sound that vibrated through my bones.


    "Damn! This thing makes the same noise like that time when I ripped its wings out!" Michael laughed, talking in English instead of the Abrahamic which we had been using until now.


    For someone who claims to have a lot of morality towards killing, he sure acts like a psychopath. And then I am the one who takes the brunt of allegations because I did what was right at that moment. Hah¡­the duality of people.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    I felt my eyes widen as we approached the castle. While I had seen Fjellborg, which was one of the most elegant castles on Earth, this was something else. It had a blend of the grace of a cathedral and the security of a fortress.


    Tall towers rose up, each crowned with small turrets. Demons with weaker Arcanum signatures were laying down inside it, seemingly hiding from being spotted from the otherwise flat terrain. Bows were ready in their grips and a small pile of quivers full of arrows rested along the inner, circular wall of the turrets.


    Atop the turrets in the rear were battlements, with notched crenelations where archers and spears were standing. Narrow arrow slits, like dark eyes, dotted the walls.


    The thick curtained walls¡ªthat connected the 4 turrets in the first layering of walls¡ªwrapped around the castle, sturdy and solid. They looked almost impenetrable.


    The gatehouse was right ahead, its portcullis ready to drop, while the drawbridge that was held by heavy chains, spanned a deep moat below.


    Past the gatehouse, I saw the barbican, an extra line of defence projecting outward.


    Machicolations jutted from the walls, openings for defenders to drop stones or boiling liquids in case of an invasion.


    Beyond the outer bailey I saw a lush courtyard surrounded by the curtain walls.


    In the inner bailey was the actual place where¡ªmost likely¡ªJayden and his family lived¡­the castle''s strongest part.


    This central tower was taller and thicker and the walls were lined with parapets, low barriers providing safety for guards walking along the top. Ramparts added another layer of defence, broad and sturdy.


    The gate towers flanked the main entrance offering even more defence and lookout points. Chimneys rose above the roofline, releasing smoke from the fires inside.


    Even though it wasn''t all that cold.


    "Achoo! Fuck! FUCK!" As Michael wiped his mucus-laden hand against the saddle, I turned my head away from him.


    Maybe it really was cold.


    Back to the castle, the watchtowers stood even higher.


    Murder holes were hidden in the ceiling of the gate passage. As our wyrms circled the castle, I couldn''t help but think.


    Even modern weapons would have a rough time infiltrating this place. Even after factoring out the aspect of Arcanum augmentation.


    The wyrms decelerated and then started to flail their wings sharply, the sound of flapping drowning the almost finished melody of the Bard.


    And then they dipped downwards, all of a sudden. The air rushed past me in a blur causing my hair to wave backwards, wildly.


    The moment we touched down, I felt a ripple of force surge from the wyrm''s body, transferring up through the saddle and into my legs. There was a slight jolt, like a gentle but firm push as the wyrm''s claws scratched against the stone ground with a rather displeasing sound.


    The scales beneath me quivered with the vibration of the landing.


    Letting out a slight grunt, the wyrm turned its head back at me. Its eyes were hollow, and I couldn''t exactly put a finger on what colour its irises were. Shaking my head to get rid of any useless thoughts such as the colour of a beast''s eye colour, I flipped my feet over and landed deftly on the ground.


    The ground underneath was made of sturdy stone.


    As everyone unmounted the wyrms one by one, the man flying close to Astrid¡ªthe one that was holding the reins of her wyrm¡ªextended a hand to her. Slipping her hand into his, she nervously jumped down.


    I was about to go after her, but then I remembered. There was more to the current situation than just worrying about a single thing. We were in a foreign territory. Not only in an extremely hostile area, but in the centre of the giant tornado.


    The Castle of The Cromwells.


    Word had already reached the castle about our arrival. Hence the reactions of the guards were nothing more than mere curiosity. They looked up and down at us as they were stationed in every corner of the pathway that led to the inside of the main residential part of the castle. It almost felt like we were animals on display inside a zoo.


    Demons, mostly commoners, gawked with wide jaws at Michael.


    And they are not the ones to blame. If I were them, I would be surprised as well. Michael looked eerily similar to the Cromwells. So much that it was uncanny. Just an addition of fake horns made everyone believe he was someone from their family.


    Aksel was walking alongside Jayden. Common courtesy would usually demand the ones who are not the Kings to fall behind the one who is, but I suppose I can''t expect common sense from a man who befriended someone who he was hell-bent on killing.


    I mean, how does that make sense? How does that work? What was the thought process? I am genuinely intrigued as to what changed the strong emotions of ''I am going to kill this man'' into ''I found my best friend.''


    It''s absurd!


    I walked a few steps away from them. At this rate I am sure being in close proximity to him might result in a meltdown of my brain cells.


    Not like Michael is any better, but at least there is a consistency in his behaviour.


    Once we were inside the castle, I found myself in awe. Once more.


    The ceilings were unnecessarily high with arches that appeared to have been carved by giants. Or in our current case. Trolls.


    The walls themselves were decorated with thorough detailing. Yet, considering how large the castle was, it was eerily quiet. As if it was holding its breath. Metaphorically, of course.


    Was there a need to specify that in my thoughts?


    ..


    ..


    Nevermind.


    After a while of walking through the silent corridor that was lit by the torches on each side of the walls, we stopped right before a series of stairs that spiralled upwards.


    Suddenly, I felt a shiver run down my spine.


    But I was able to immediately see the source of this. Two people were stationed there as they walked down the stairs and then split to the sides, standing on each side of the giant marbled frame before the stairs.


    When Jayden shifted a little from my sight, I was now able to discern the two guards'' features.


    One figure appeared to be a woman, her apparent demeanour friendly and approachable. Her short, green hair gave her a tomboyish look, but the feminine curves beneath her tight and long dress suggested otherwise.


    Standing beside her was another woman with longer green hair and exuding a fiercer aura, her sharp eyes and a scar crossed her left eye adding to her rugged appearance. The only weapons I observed were short daggers secured at their waists.


    They both had medium length black horns that weren''t complex. Just straight, dagger like horns without any spiral design or unique colour.


    "Welcome back, my lord." The tomboyish woman spoke. "It''s a blessing to see you in good health, my lord." She bowed subtly, her voice rough in timber but not lacking in any way when it came to showing genuine respect and worry for her lord.


    "Greetings, my lord." The other¡ªscarred woman spoke this time, bowing more deeply. After a while of bowing down, Jayden hummed, causing them to straighten their backs.


    The tomboy looked in Aksel''s direction and then back at Jayden. "My lord. I see you brought humans¡­" she paused, "¡­guests."


    "Is that a problem, Harper?" Jayden cocked his head.


    "Pff¡ªshe''s named Harper." Michael breathed a subdued snicker.


    "Not at all, my lord." She instantly bowed her head back. "I am merely¡­" She stopped talking, seemingly unable to formulate words.


    The scarred woman stared at Michael and then looked up at me, sparing only a single glance before looking back at her lord.


    "Allow me, my lord." She spoke in a stern tone.


    "What is it, Sloane?"


    Sloane eased out the single crease in her tight-fit, maid suit.


    "Is it really appropriate for humans to be placed in the same chambers where the Young Lords reside?" She asked disapprovingly.


    "Of course it is." Jayden waved his hand off.


    "But-" She was about to talk again but Jayden raised his hand.


    "I am not here to hear advice from you." He spoke with a nonchalant tone, but the cutting edge was still there. Concealed. "Not in front of the guests."


    Sloane''s chest rose up and her lips pursed. Dipping her head down, she bowed. "As you command, my lord."


    Jayden huffed out through his nose. "Harper."


    "Yes?"


    "Are the rooms appropriately readied?"


    The tomboyish girl''s sickly green eyes flicked upwards with a rather keen eagerness. "Given the window of time, we have done our absolute best to greet your¡­guests."


    The pauses before guests every time tells me that there is some alternative, loving word for us.


    Well, I already know some of it. The elves called me a Mudwalker. It is quite strange and funny at the same time though, given how whenever we want to name someone beneath us, we use the term mud. It''s uncreative, but it does the job.


    "Good enough." Jayden replied with a satisfied look and then turned back to us. "Harper and Sloane will escort you three to your resting chambers." He spoke as he rubbed the side of his neck.


    It was only after focusing heavily that I noticed the small patch of blackened skin. Perhaps from the clash of Technique Deployments.


    "As for my new friend, Aksel!" He turned to him. "I have something special arranged for you beside my very own chambers."


    "Hah! Now I am excited." Laughing with each other, the two left, leaving us three with the two demon girls. Or women.


    "Please, follow us." Sloane spoke, her long green hair that framed her face unmoving.


    We followed after the two as we climbed the spiralling stone stairs. It was quite similar to the ones that were in Fjellborg, but except the stifling humidity there, the temperature in this staircase was well regulated.


    I suppose it must be because it is above the ground surface.


    As we climbed, I kept my senses on high alert. I could even feel Michael and Astrid''s concealed uneasiness seep into me.


    As we reached the top, the vastness of the floor surprised me.


    It stretched out endlessly, with corridors and rooms branching off in every direction like the spokes of a giant wheel.


    One side of the floor was quite lavish, with opulent draperies depicting scenes of ancient battles and royal ceremonies hanging from the high walls.


    The floors were covered in soft rugs. Golden candelabras casted a warm, flickering glow that danced on the polished marble floors. The air here smelled faintly of incense and aged wood.


    Although not much different, the other half of the floor was somewhat austere.


    The walls here were decorated with simpler tapestries. The floors were covered with plain but well-crafted carpets, and the light came from polished brass sconces. The difference was subtle but noticeable, like two parts of the same story told with different emphases.


    Harper and Sloane took a turn towards the less ornate side after arriving at the cross-section of the floor that divided the two places.


    "Since the young masters were recently given this upper floor, only the practical area was renovated for them." Harper explained.


    "Hmm." I hummed in response, looking in every direction. There didn''t seem to be any hidden doors or traps made for ambush. Surprisingly. Since the exterior of the castle, or fortress, was extremely packed with such things.


    "Does this area at least get showers?" Michael asked, his voice croaky.


    Both Harper and Sloane looked at each other and then turned back.


    "Shower? As in a rain shower?"


    "He means bath. Do you have bathtubs?"


    It felt like Harper was about to reply excitedly but suppressed it.


    "Of course. Once inside, there are bathtubs inside the quarters. A change of clothes will be provided shortly afterwards." She spoke in a formal manner.


    "Damn, imagine not having showers."


    After just a minute of talking, Sloane directed Michael away and took him to a room that was inside a corridor right before where Harper led us.


    The room was spacious and it was well decorated. Contrary to the first impression when the door was shut. It seems like they actually didn''t renovate this place and are not throwing us into a bad place.


    However, there seemed to be a problem.


    "Where is my room?" I asked. Since she had directed Astrid to enter.


    "This is your room." Harper replied, unblinking. "The Lord ordered us to prepare two rooms. One for a human named Michael and the other for a human named Arthur and his mate Astrid. Are you not them?"


    "MATE!?"


    Hah¡­not this again. Why are there so many allegations? And why is this the first thing they assume? I can be homosexual for all I care.


    "Hmm. Alright. Thanks."


    "A change of clothes will arrive soon." Harper said and after casting one¡­judgemental look at us, left.


    A silent hush descended.


    I could feel her eyes burn into me.


    But after what she said and what I thought, this was the worst time to talk to her. There was also this matter of something weird when it came to her. Something I couldn''t put my finger on.


    Something you wouldn''t feel or consider about someone who is merely your caretaker.


    Before she spoke the first words, I moved towards the door.


    "Lock the door. Only open to pull your clothes in and don''t leave until I tell you to do so." Without looking at her, I spoke and opened it.


    "Wait, what? Why are you going?"


    Casting a glance over my shoulder, I spoke. "You know, I don''t really want to hear you taking a bath."


    She flushed slightly, her eyes narrowing with a mix of embarrassment and maybe slight¡­anger?


    "Oh really?" she retorted, clearly both startled and slightly indignant.


    "Well, better make myself scarce then," I shot back, backing away slowly. I barely caught her muttered retort.


    "Arthur, I want to tal¡ª"


    "Later." With that I closed the door behind me.


    Maybe my wording was not the best but I shook my head, once again. Now was not the time for all this, I reminded myself before taking off somewhere only somewhat familiar.


    ***************


    My knuckles knocked against the door I was standing in front of. The sound caused an echo, making it reverberate in the empty floor. There was no one on the other side it seemed, since even after deliberately making some noise by tossing a vase and a table down, no one came from the side where the supposed young masters were.


    Suddenly the door flew open and closed immediately afterwards.


    After a few seconds, it opened once again.


    His golden gaze was more surprised than agitated. "Your wife kicked you out?"


    "She''s taking a bath."


    "And?" He narrowed his eyes on me. "Did you pop a boner or something?"


    "No, I¡ª" How did he even come to that conclusion?


    Actually, now that I think of it, it''s quite natural. I am acting that way.


    "Maybe." I just surrendered, letting out a deep breath.


    "Can''t blame ya." Contrary to my expectations, the door completely opened as he stepped to the side. "Get in."


    Taking a step inside, he closed the door and clicked the deadbolt into its place.


    I looked around.


    It was a decently decorated room filled with all the basic necessities required for a guest. It had a few books on the shelves, a dressing table, a double bed and two couch chairs with a crystal table in front of it. The area which is usually glass seemed to be made out of pure diamond.


    "Crazy, isn''t it?" Michael spoke from behind me. As I turned around, I saw him standing while leaning against the wall, dressed in a long robe. He was wearing nothing other than a robe. His legs were visible from the place not tightly held by the belt of the robe. "I checked it. The table is made out of pure diamond. Almost as if it is nothing to them."


    I hummed in response. "There always have been fundamental differences between the norms on Earth and Eden, even before the separation. So, I am not really surprised."


    "Hrmmmm." He let out a loud humming sound and then took a sip out of a goblet that had a dark red liquid in it. "Wah! This is amazing."


    "It could be poisoned." I stated as a matter-of-factly.


    "Oh, well¡­" he paused and then shrugged, "¡­at least it''s not as stupid as your father leading us straight into the dragon''s maw."


    I was about to agree with him, but he spoke again.


    "Don''t get me wrong, I am not berating your dad." He continued, taking another sip from it as he placed it on the dressing table and sat down on a small stool beside it. His hair was still damp, and slight steam was rising from it. "If it was my father, he would''ve done the same thing. These old, selfish farts are all the same."


    He then looked up at me. "Don''t tell me you love your daddy and can''t stand me talking shit about them."


    I raised my hands up in a placating manner. "Be my guest, by all means." I had no objection. After all, what he said was completely true. It was quite likely that he was told by mom to further relations with them after saving me.


    Since me being alive is of absolute paramount importance to whatever she desires.


    "Even though I am in your room." I ended my sentence.


    Michael''s eyes went wide and he then chuckled. "Do you have a split personality or something?"


    It didn''t sound condescending or anything. Just a genuine query. Somehow it felt strange. It wasn''t how he usually acts or talks. Not like this. At least as far as I remember. But as I was pondering that, something clocked.


    Split personality?


    Without much change in my demeanour, I asked casually as I shifted in my seat. "Is something the matter?"


    "Nah." He shrugged, rolling words in his mouth with his tongue. "Was just wondering how did you suddenly devolve into this¡­" he paused, once again, as if searching for appropriate words, "¡­utter prick."


    What is he talking about?


    Still maintaining an outwards fa?ade of neutrality, I pressed a little further, keeping my words measured. But one could only be so oblivious. But I was willing to take the risk.


    "I have always been like this."


    Michael suddenly scoffed, pressed the goblet to his lips and then immediately drank the whole thing in one go. Letting out a loud groan, a flush crept up his cheeks as he swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the table for support. "Hell no." He spoke up, locking his eyes with mine. "You were much more tolerable before."


    This isn''t giving me much to go off of.


    "In what way?"


    "Dunno." He shrugged and poured himself another glass. "This is some good shit, I can''t lie. You gotta try this."


    "I''m good." I refused, placing my head against the backrest. It was way too hard and precarious to extract information from Michael. And despite how tense our relationship looked, oddly enough I had talked the most with him. Not even Maria came close.


    "Aw man, you''re such a party pooper." He clinked the goblet in his hand with the other one that was on the table, half-filled. "Cheers." He talked to himself.


    "It''s not like I don''t like drinking alcohol." I replied as he looked at me through the mirror. "I don''t feel comfortable drinking while we are in an enemy castle where even the guards are powerful enough to give us more trouble than I''d like." I pointed at the door, beyond which Harper and Sloane were approaching our¡­Michael''s room.


    "Ehh, you are way too stiff for your own good. Let loose a little." Saying that he stood up and walked up to the door. As he opened it, he was met with Sloane who had a change of clothes draped over her arms. She tilted to the side and saw me sitting on the couch.


    "Don''t you have clothes to give us?" Michael asked brusquely.


    She exhaled sharply and thrust two pairs of what seemed like tunic robes to him before turning around. Harper lingered for a while before speaking. "Lord Cromwell has sent for the humans named Arthur, Michael and Astrid. Lunch has been served. The Lord''s chief guest Aksel has arrived in the main banquet hall already."


    Lunch? Wasn''t it fully dark outside?


    "Alright, alright. Off you go." He shut the door at her face.


    Turning around he threw my clothes at me.


    "You stink man. Get a bath." A smirk found its way to his face. "Unless you wanna go back and have a bath with yo¡ª"


    "I will take a bath here." Before he could complete his awfully predictable sentence, I interrupted him and went to take a bath.


    The bath wasn''t much different than the ones we had on Earth. As one would expect, the main visual difference one would expect from two worlds being centuries apart was there but other than that, it wasn''t much different.


    Like the walls were covered in tall vines instead of the usual marbling. The bathtub was made out of a cold stone. However, it only felt cold right now. It had a conductive property which changed temperatures. There were taps for both cold and hot water as well.


    Although I could sense Arcanum from the water. It wasn''t poisonous or harmful. If it wasn''t that then it means that the water is being regulated using magic, or an artefact that uses Arcanum.


    Regardless of that, there was no soap. The only equivalent I could find for soap was some powder that turned into a bubbly, soapy texture after I mixed some water in it. The texture was a bit weird, like scrub since it had small granular things inside it.


    But it did the job. It had a nice smell as well. As one would expect, it was quite close to natural smells, rather than the artificial ones we were used to. It smelt of a forest after rain. A specific bark of a tree.


    After taking around 30 mins soaking my tired and somewhat battered body into lukewarm water, I went outside.


    Michael was already dressed by the time I was out. His hair was styled in his usual unkempt bun, tied back with a black rubber band. He was wearing a long black robe that had a brown belt on his waist.


    His waist was narrow enough to make women envious.


    Well, if you looked close enough and removed the perpetual scowl from his face, even his facial features were a bit effeminate. Not in a bad way, of course.


    I, myself, was wearing a grey coloured tunic with black belt tying it together. Underneath was a warm grey shirt. Since we were the same height, it didn''t really matter which colour he picked.


    After a few gruesome minutes of styling my hair in the usual curtains, I was finally ready. Styling the hair, by far, was the hardest task. Since I usually have Astrid comb it for me. Or she does it herself. This also gave Michael an opportunity to sneak a few snickers at me while I struggled.


    When we got out of the room and walked to the edge of the corridor, I looked to my left. The door of the room in which Astrid was wide open.


    Sloane was waiting for us, now wearing a much more formal maid dress. Contrary to the previous dress that looked more-or-less like a tight, nighttime lingerie. This dress seemed to be made from a coarse fabric¡ªlike linen, with muted colours¡ªblack and white.


    The primary garment was a kirtle, a simple, loose-fitting dress with long sleeves that extended to the ankles. Over this, she was wearing an apron made of linen. Underneath, a shift or chemise, also made of linen, served as a base layer.


    She was also wearing a simple head cover¡ªa wimple.


    Footwear was basic and functional¡ªankle length leather boots.


    A woollen cloak hugged her shoulders, slightly curving over her chest.


    Her dark green eyes narrowed at me, the scarred eye twitching before slightly motioning to the stairs. "The Lord and the Elders await you."


    "I hate this anime setting. What''s next? A blue haired demon maid?" Michael grumbled to himself, causing Sloane''s brow to twitch once again. The slight motion of her horns suggested she was shaking. From anger or tiredness, I couldn''t tell.


    Once we were through the stairs and some corridors, we finally reached the giant double doors that led to the supposed banquet hall. Astrid and Harper were already standing there.


    Astrid was wearing quite an elegant piece of royal blue coloured silk gown. The gown had long, flowing sleeves and a fitted bodice, highlighting her narrow waist. Underneath, she wore a linen chemise, soft against her skin.


    A decorative silver belt cinched at her waist. Completing the whole ensemble was her headwear which included a finely woven veil. A fur-lined cloak dangled loosely from her shoulders.


    Her hair was styled in the usual casual hairstyle of a side ponytail, held high by a velvet ribbon.


    "Damn."


    "What?"


    "Huh? Nothing." Michael shook his head, a little intoxicated.


    As Astrid spotted us, she walked over. Her lips had barely moved to say anything as the heavy doors behind us opened a gust of wind rushed outwards.


    A shiver ran down my spine.


    Inside, rows upon rows of demons were lined up, their hands clasped in front of them, each of them giving out the same aura as Ed¡ªsome even stronger.


    Aksel was sitting in the forefront of the room, right beside Jayden who looked back at me and smirked. "Let the celebration begin!"


    Celebration for what? But it became quite clear after I saw it. The victorious smile on Aksel''s face.


    Damn it.


    He has already negotiated something with him.


    This is bad¡­


    GLOSSARY FOR SOME HARD WORDS THAT MADE UP THE CASTLE COMPONENTS:


    Battlements: Protective walls on top of the castle with gaps (crenelations) for archers to shoot through.


    Keep: The central, most fortified part of the castle where the lord and his family live.


    Drawbridge: A bridge that can be raised or lowered to allow or prevent access to the castle.


    Moat: A deep, wide trench filled with water surrounding the castle, serving as a defence mechanism.


    Bailey: The enclosed courtyard within the castle walls.


    Machicolations: Overhanging parts of the castle walls or towers with openings to drop stones or boiling liquids on attackers.


    Barbican: An outer defensive structure protecting the gate.


    Portcullis: A heavy grilled door that can be lowered to block the entrance.


    Turrets: Small towers often at the corners of the castle or on top of larger towers.


    Crenelations: The notched battlements at the top of the castle walls.


    Murder Holes: Openings in the ceiling of a gateway or passage through which defenders could attack invaders.


    Chimneys: Chimneys are chimneys, duh.

 52: Prelude to the Duel.

    Arthur Olvasen:


    Harper and Sloane each held onto one of the door handles and pulled it open.


    I could only imagine how heavy it was since the two guards were struggling to pry it apart. Finally, with a loud clack, the towering door slid open, revealing what I assumed to be the banquet hall.


    The hall was enormous, with a vaulted ceiling that soared high above our heads with 4 grey pillars extending from the corners of the rectangular hall and moving upwards before bending and meeting each other in the centre of the ceiling.


    Complimentary chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the candles adorning them casted a soft, flickering glow across the space.


    And sitting in the far corner of the banquet hall, atop the inky dark throne located after three stairs that led to a raised platform was a man I was familiar with.


    Jayden Cromwell.


    His hands were placed on the armrests to the side and dark robes flowed around and beneath them.


    His posture seemed practised and there was an unnaturally stern look on his face. Perhaps he hates putting up a farce of being a stern leader. Because it was not possible that he disliked such settings.


    After all, this matter could have been handled via simple negotiations without the need for such over the top ceremony.


    Because this banquet feels¡­too much.


    On either side of the Jayden''s throne-like seat were multiple other seats; the size of the backrests and the amounts of embellishments plateauing as they extended outwards until eventually the last seats on the two extremes of the long table were just normal chairs.


    Sitting right beside him¡ªbehind the long table that extended from corner to another¡ªon a slightly smaller throne-like seat that was equally dark was my father with a giant, satisfactory smile on his face.


    "My Lord!" Sloane''s voice quelled the heated chitter-chatter of the people as they finally turned around and noticed us arriving.


    Like a herd of deer scattering upon spotting a predator, the demons suddenly left the main path and stood to the side. And while my head was directed straight towards Jayden, I couldn''t help but feel it.


    The gazes of the people standing to the side of the banquet hall, figures of all ages and sizes staring at me, a small contingent of them with disdain, while others with simple and genuine curiosity.


    Which was surprising. But now that I had so much exposure in such a short span of time, I had started to see a pattern in the level of hate.


    However, before I could consider the newly formed hypothesis in my mind, three figures that were standing the closest to Jayden emanated suppressed and highly directed auras at the three of us.


    I could feel Astrid inch a little closer to me. Close enough until her shoulder touched the back of my arm, as if she was trying to lean against me.


    Michael exhaled sharply from his nose; his agitation almost palpable. While there was no maliciousness or killing intent in the subtly suppressive aura, it was still enough to make even decently powerful mages to faint and froth in the mouth.


    From first appearances they seemed related, however, something about the nature of their Arcanum and the way it just¡­existed made me think otherwise.


    "Everyone!" Jayden rose up, a glass in his hand as the content whirled wildly inside it. "You have met my new friend Aksel Olvasen!"


    The auras suddenly whipped out of existence, as if they were never there. And even after consciously trying to feel them¡ªin any shape or form, I couldn''t. Their control over their Arcanum was ironclad.


    "Now meet the heirs to the human equivalent of royalty! Arthur Olvasen and Michael White."


    As he announced, hesitant claps that arrived in a disheartening cadence filled the hall. The applause paused for a moment, then died out, only to be sporadically reinitiated by a random clap from someone in the far corner.


    Jayden raised his hand up and the claps immediately subsided.


    "Royalty? For fuck''s sake." Michael snorted.


    "What are they saying?" Astrid chimed in.


    "Can''t you understand Abrahamic?"


    "How the hell am I supposed to understand a language I thought didn''t exist until just recently!"


    "Man, you lot suck. Must be hell living like a normie."


    "You¡ª"


    Turning my attention away from the two fighting again, I looked at Jayden who motioned for people to take their seats instead of standing.


    As they did, the three men who had exerted their auras at us a while ago took a seat right beside Jayden.


    "Our guests here have accomplished a feat not many would even dare to think." Jayden continued as every eye was focused on him. Looking at them, everyone looked to be subservient enough with none of them having any malicious thought towards him.


    "Both of them have fought and survived General Ed of Central Dominion, on separate occasions."


    Was there a point in telling them about this? I mean¡­isn''t it a bad thing for them?


    "No way? That General Ed? Ed Vorlith?"


    "This has to be a joke!"


    "I can''t believe a human can stand up to a Vorlith, much less General Ed!"


    "I mean, wasn''t he a bastard son of Vorliths? General or not, a pure-bred Vorlith would never let a human contend them on equal terms!"


    Multiple whispers started to spread throughout the room. Jayden looked down at them and then tapped on his table once.


    The echo was amplified as it washed like a tidal wave over everyone, drowning out their arguments and instilling a pin-drop hush in the hall, once again.


    The man who was sitting the closest to Jayden had a rather sour expression on his face, his fist clenched and his cheek indented as he bit down at it. He had midnight sky coloured hair and a pair of spiralled purple eyes.


    "But that little horseplay aside, no harm has been brought to the innocents." Jayden spoke with a glee.


    He lied. There were so many people who died.


    However, he did say innocents. And from what I remember almost all of them were evicted prisoners or people of really low ranks to be even considered worthy enough to think of anything.


    The sound of chair skidding filled the hall. On Aksel''s side, three figures pulled the chairs and sat down.


    Without sparing a glance at them, Jayden continued his speech and raised his glass.


    "We should put our differences aside and extend the hand of friendship. A hand of friendship that has already been extended towards us¡­we should indeed not leave it hanging." He spoke as the entire hall clamoured, agreeing with their lord.


    It made me a little uncomfortable. It felt like I was inside a glass paned cage in a zoo.


    "This will be the advent of a new age. An age when we no longer have to agree on lower terms with those in the Sylvan Fellowship."


    """""YEAH!!!"""""


    "And incidentally, all three Dukes of the subsidiary states of Central Dominion are also here." Jayden motioned his hand towards the three men seated to his side. "Why don''t you introduce yourselves to our guests?"


    The first man shook his head, as if shrugging off some troubling monologue.


    The man with the spiralling purple eyes spoke. "Thalor. Thalor Vorlith. I am the Duke of Valemount. Category 6. Pleasure to meet you."


    He introduced himself and spoke of his Category with an unhidden pride and arrogance.


    After that he immediately took a seat. However, throughout the conversation, even after he sat down, he never took his eyes off me.


    Well, I am not the only one who fought your son! Stare at the guy behind me as well!


    In order, the other man stood up as well. "Draven Toxarion. I am the Duke of Thornwood. Category 6."


    Unlike Thalor, Draven''s introduction felt much more resigned and the contempt in his blood red spiralling eyes behind his midnight grey hair was awfully visible.


    The one in the far end seemed quite different than the other two. While Drave and Thalor had normal human-esque skin and appearances, he was the one who could easily qualify as earthlings'' interpretation of demons.


    Long and thick crimson red horns jutted out of the side of his head and went upwards before curling down at the top. Huge silver coloured earring hung from his ears and when he smirked, his silver and golden teeth flashed, making the three black ones stick out like a sore thumb.


    As he stood to introduce himself, the predatory smirk never left his mouth. His spiralling obsidian eyes travelled to Astrid, followed by a lick of his lips as he straightened his back, causing his belly to stick out even more.


    Even underneath the heavy robes, I could tell he was way past the "obese" threshold.


    His hair was the same colour as Thalor and Draven but unlike them, his was styled in spikes.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Greetings human." He was eying Astrid like a starved man. She got even closer, and gripped at the back of my sleeve.


    Her breath was warm and the fresh forest smell of her skin was oddly soothing. And somewhat arousing.


    Ehmmm...back to the present.


    "Ronan Malkaroth." He introduced himself, a frown finding its way to his face as she completely hid behind me and Michael stepped forward, completely hiding her.


    "Duke of¡­Ravenmoor¡­tch." Clicking his tongue, he slumped back into his seat.


    Jayden had a rather neutral look on his face as he pointed towards the first table, the one closest to him on Aksel''s side. "Have a seat, please. And begin the celebration." He paused as a drumming melody filled the hall.


    "Celebration for outgrowing the past differences and ushering ourselves into a new era!"


    Everyone raised their glasses as the banquet was officially initiated.


    Before we went towards our respective seats, I took in Ronan''s face and ingrained it into my mind. Like branding a mark into one''s bare flesh.


    He will die. An excruciating death.


    And I will be there to inflict it with my own hands.


    ******


    Pressing my lips tightly together, I stifled the rising yawn, feeling the strain in my jaw and the subtle burn in my eyes.


    It has been well over 24 hours since I last slept or got some rest. And due to the unchanging shade of darkness outside, I had lost perception of time as well.


    I was currently sitting around a round table beside Astrid and Michael.


    But the past hour and a half haven''t exactly been wasted since I learnt a few things. Since Sloane and Harper were stationed to help up with anything, I asked Sloane about the ''Category'' that the three lords of Central Dominion mentioned a while ago.


    ''Category'' is a way for Edeners to quantify their ranks. Categories exist from "Category I" which is a newly awakened mage, to "Category X" which is mostly regarded as a myth.


    And while there were people who have reached "Category IX" ¨C both human and other races ¨C in the past, no one has achieved the mythical feat.


    And from the explanation of disparity between each category, it was quite evident that it was not the same.


    The powerup that comes from advancing a ''Category'' doesn''t rise in a conventional way.


    While the power gap keeps rolling over as one progresses there is still one major difference that I observed after around 40 minutes of constantly pondering and observing the two maids.


    A good example would be that one would think that Category 2 is X2 times stronger than Category 1 and Category 3 is X3 stronger than Category 1. However, that is not exactly the case.


    The disparity is much larger. Wider.


    Since Harper was Category 2 and Sloane was Category 3. And the difference in arcanum amount from an observatory viewpoint ¨C assuming that they were not hiding any of it ¨C proves that Category 3 would be (X3)2 times stronger. The second exponent was the difference in Category 1 and current stage.


    But of course, this is a hypothesis based on an assumption that the feel of Arcanum can be quantified into mathematical numbers.


    Since being strong doesn''t entirely depend on the amount of Arcanum one can hold. This observation was based solely on the quantity. Assuming Arcanum can be quantified, underneath perfect conditions.


    Something else that I noticed, other than the Category ranking system, was the obvious difference in how people in Lawold ¨C or more specifically, this castle ¨C treated us.


    And while I have no tangible proof or concrete elements to prove what I am about to say, I think the reason behind it is the exact opposite of what The Seven Syndicates did.


    While Seven Syndicates monopolised the power due to less ambient resources to put everyone in line, it seems like the Royalty in Eden has used the generational hate as a weapon for their own progress.


    By introducing propagandas that promotes anti-human beliefs, they are keeping the common folks in check.


    Since they can''t control the ambient arcanum and the normal people from awakening, they are redirecting their attention from overthrowing the government to a much more concerning matter.


    Of course, all of this was still a hypothesis on my part and I might be completely off the tangent.


    "Mmm~ This is not bad."


    Astrid let out a content breath as she placed her utensils to the side. The plate was wiped almost clean with a few streaks of grease still lingering in the centre.


    The type of meat used in the dish was still a mystery but it felt alright. It had a contradictory texture and flavour.


    The amount of fat in it was enough to clog any person''s arteries. And while it tasted like a 50 times fattier pork, its texture was something more akin to bison meat.


    It was hearty. And chewy. Really, really chewy. And rubbery.


    There were some other dishes that stood out as well.


    Like the Wyrmscale Pie.


    The crust was a complicated pattern of golden-brown pastry, shining with a honeyed glaze underneath the beautiful candlelight.


    Inside were tender pieces of¡ªwhat I was told was¡ªwyrm meat, seemingly slow-cooked with some weird blend of demon pepper and a variant of truffles I had never tasted before.


    It was much more tender than the bison-pork meat.


    Beside the Wyrmscale Pie was another dish that they called Tail Stew.


    Which abomination''s tail? I have no idea. Although Astrid really liked it, saying it reminded her of stews her grandma used to make on Christmas.


    It was served in a cauldron of black iron and the stew was a deep, rich red, bubbling gently and releasing tendrils of aromatic steam.


    It was filled with chunks of unidentified creature''s tail. And despite succulent and slightly sweet meat, which absorbed the bold flavours of the broth, I couldn''t help my gag reflex.


    Hence, to not embarrass myself, I refrained from eating it any further.


    The broth, however, was quite nice. It was a concoction of dragonroot, blood onions, and a splash of shadow wine which warmed the core.


    On a much bigger platter was a Basilisk Egg Omelette.


    The name itself should make you not even consider eating it. It''s basically a snake''s egg''s omelette that can petrify you by looking in your eyes.


    The only selling point was the presentation. It was whipped into a fluffy omelette filled with minced nightmare mushrooms and shavings of aged demon cheese.


    The waiter who was a very young demon was kind enough to tell us what the specific ingredients were.


    Although it was quite clear that he was doing it out of obligation and a direct order from Jayden. He could''ve just broken the plates on our head for all he cared.


    There were many other things on the menu but the only other thing I personally tried was the Frostfire Pudding.


    It seemed alive with magic, shifting colours from a deep icy blue to a fiery orange, depending on the angle of the light.


    The waiterboy said that the pudding was made from the essence of petals of frostberries and fireflowers, giving it a unique sensation of cold and heat as it dissolved on the tongue.


    Topped with crystallised sugar and a dollop of shadow cream, it was better than any dessert I had on Earth.


    "For once I agree with this rat." Michael breathed out a heavy sigh as he finished his third cut of meat.


    "Of course, you agree with a dish having 50 litres of fat being tasty. Cholesterol must be afraid of you."


    "Hah! Only normal fucks like you are afraid of cholesterol."


    "Hmph!" She crossed her arms and looked the other way.


    They were getting unusually comfortable with each other. It''s concerning.


    Looking from the corner of my eye, I observed Ronan still eying Astrid every now and then.


    Aren''t women supposed to have like this sixth sense that tells them a man is looking at them in an inappropriate way? Or am I horrendously misinformed?


    Other than that, the other noteworthy thing was¡­were the three figures who had silently taken a seat beside my father.


    The three demons, 2 of whom were around my age.


    The first one looked almost as old as my brother, Eric.


    His figure, even though he was sitting, was huge and imposing.


    His messy white hair was styled like a mane, wild and untamed, falling around his sharp, angular face.


    His golden eyes burned with an intense, almost malevolent glint as he continued to overlook every person in the room, as if keeping them in check while Jayden and Aksel talked to the three Dukes of Central Dominion.


    The horns protruding from the sides of his head curved up and outwards with the pair from his temples shorter, more jagged, and surprisingly menacing.


    His skin was pale, almost ghostly grey, contrasting oddly well with his dark robes which were made out of black and rich purple, adorned with silver accents and flowing, cape-like elements that rippled every time he shifted.


    The other one was much younger and looked to be around my age. A year or two older, perhaps, physically of course.


    In contrast to whom I assumed was his brother, the younger one had a chilly calm demeanour to him, quite different from the energetic older brother.


    His white hair was neatly kept, styled back meticulously. His golden ¨C almost yellow eyes, though sharing the same eerie hue as the older one, had an unsettlingly analytical shine, as he observed everything with a cold detachment.


    Even his presence was quite meek. If I wasn''t seeing him with my own eyes, I would not have felt him sitting right there unless he directed some kind of animosity towards me.


    The horns on the sides of his head were sleek and polished, curving upward in the same way as the older one and Jayden''s.


    However, the pair from his temples was much more streamlined, tapering to fine points.


    He was wearing a robe of the same material as the older ones, consisting of a blend of dark grey and midnight blue with subtle golden embellishments across his chest.


    And while both of them gave me jitters, unlike the older one''s menacing presence, the younger one felt more troublesome. Insidious. Like a quiet, looming threat.


    And I would''ve almost missed the one sitting right beside them if not for Michael elbowing my ribs and almost blowing them away.


    "That one''s hot as sin." He whispered, raising a brow at the third person sitting right beside the brothers. Her brothers.


    They were Jayden''s kids. The so-called young masters who were mentioned time and time again by Harper and Sloane.


    It was a girl. Appearance wise she looked to be between the two brothers in age.


    Her hair was a much darker shade of white and cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders. It was let loose but at the same time it looked extremely prim.


    With an aloof demeanour, she sat perfectly still, her hands crossed over the table.


    Dressed in a deep blue gown, kind of similar to Astrid''s, it draped gracefully along her slim body.


    You could almost see a hint of her thighs through the slit into the side of her dress which she had crossed over the other leg. Her dress curved into all the right places and she was indeed, objectively, pretty.


    It wasn''t as much as Michael was reacting, but she had the allure to bewitch any man.


    "Hmmmmmmm."


    The girl''s eyes shifted towards us. Placing her chin in her palm, she tilted her head, the look on her face hardening.


    Oh, she''s making eye contact. Aaand she''s trying to compete.


    Good lord. What on Earth¨C Eden is this situation?


    "HMMMMM!" The humming sound and the tapping of fingers only intensified as both of us looked back to see Astrid who was scrutinising me with narrowed eyes. "Like what you see, huh!?"


    "I suppose so." I replied. "They are ginormous."


    "Dude, what the fuck?" Michael blurted out, his eyes wide and an expression hanging on his face that screamed disbelief.


    "What? Aren''t you the one who told me to look that way?"


    "No¡­yes, I mean, but¡­" he paused and leaned in, "¡­don''t talk about another woman''s tits in front of other women. Especially when she''s got a much smaller rack than hers."


    "I can hear you perfectly, even though it doesn''t seem like you''re trying very hard." A vein popped on Astrid''s forehead. "And why are you even observing everyone''s¡­chests?" She placed one arm across her own.


    "Man! You got your cleavage poking out of that dress. It''s hard to not look at them." He paused and smirked, "But don''t worry so much. There''s nothing much to look at anyways."


    She grumbled, her palm balling into a fist.


    "Heh. If you believe otherwise, prove it."


    "That''s enough." She made a disgusted face. "You creep!"


    "Hah! When you are proven wrong, then I am a creep. Geez."


    Putting their banter aside, I think I get it now. He meant that Astrid might get insecure if I say stuff like this out loud. Now that I think about it, I have never looked at her in that way.


    Perhaps it is because she was a scared, trembling little girl when I saved her. And that I still look at her that way.


    I looked at her.


    Really looked at her.


    And while I could tell she was not the same frail looking girl anymore, and had grown up quite well, I couldn''t just see her that way. Was it because I had been looking after her all this time? Or was it some other reason? I couldn''t quite put my finger on it.


    While our table was getting abuzz with talks that were playing a precarious game of balancing over the rope between immoral and moral, Jayden suddenly stood up and clapped his hands.


    The clap was powerful enough to send a shockwave throughout the room as he grabbed everyone''s attention.


    "I hope the dinner is treating you well, Ladies and Gentlemen." He spoke with an extremely happy voice. And somehow it ticked me off.


    "The food might be good, and that''s a part of the banquet, but¡­" he paused as he looked at my father and then at me.


    Oh Goddess. This can''t be good.


    "¡­what is a banquet without some entertainment!?"


    Everyone let out slight murmurs, agreeing with their Lord.


    "And what better way to start the entertainment other than a duel between the Demon and Human Royalty Young Masters!?"


    The entire crowd went silent for a brief moment before erupting into chaos.


    The girl looked down at me with a rather disappointed look. As if the mere thought of a duel with us was making her feel nauseous.


    "Isn''t that right, my friend?" He asked, looking in Aksel''s direction.


    Intoxicated, my father bobbed his head. "Of course. Drag my boy into a fight and let him do his magic."


    The older brother smirked and whispered something to his younger brother, causing him to frown.


    Well¡­while this is not ideal, it''s not as bad as one would think. I couldn''t learn anything about Cromwells'' Arcane Art before. But now it was different. I am not exactly aware what Category the ''young masters'' are, this can prove valuable.


    "What are they saying?" Astrid inched closer. Her face was bright red and her breathing was really fast.


    Looks like someone had a bit too much alcohol.


    "Something I''m not too against." I returned the girl''s gaze with my own. "Something that might end up benefiting me in the future."

 53: Espionage.

    The room was a bleak contrast to the storm raging outside.


    Heavy, intense rain pounded relentlessly against the massive, floor-to-ceiling window at the back of the room, the glass trembling ever-so slightly with each gust of wind.


    The window offered no view of the outside world, only a dark, watery blur that added to the ominous tension inside.


    The room itself was dimly lit, with the single yellow light in the middle of the ceiling casting long, wavering shadows across the beautifully adorned walls.


    The air was heavy with the scent of aged leather and polished wood, mingling with a faint hint of cigar smoke that seemed to linger from a certain gathering.


    The floor was covered with a soft carpet that muffled the sound of footsteps; its design barely visible in the subdued light.


    A long, mahogany table dominated the centre of the room, its surface lustrous underneath the dull golden glow of the bulb.


    Around it, a small¡­very small group of well-dressed men sat wearing tailored suits and silk ties. Their faces were set in stern expressions as they discussed something between themselves. Their tones felt rushed, as if they couldn''t come to a conclusion quickly, they would lose a vital opportunity.


    In a stark contrast, opposite to the dressed men, a few men cloaked in trench coats and wearing hoods over their faces stood in a little distance.


    The hoods casted deep shadows over their features, adding a subtle layer of mystery and menace.


    Small wet prints from their shoes were still present ¨C in the process of evaporating away due to the installed heaters.


    "Why isn''t he here, yet?"


    "He said he had something really important to attend to."


    "Fuck. Who does he think he is?!"


    "Calm down. You know no one can force them into anything." The composed man calmed him down. "No one. Except them."


    "Shit." The one who had his pulse heightened cursed again. "We should come to a decision. We make the majority anyway."


    "Credibility will still remain yours, even in the event of... ill fortune, for lack of a more delicate term. Since I have decided to go along with whatever machinations you two plan up."


    "I know, I know, damn it!" The man''s eyes flicked in the dark as he gestured sharply.


    After that, his hands sliced through the air as he barked orders.


    Papers rustled and the occasional metallic clink of a pen against the table punctuated the otherwise hushed atmosphere. The scribbling was immediately followed by a loud thud as the two men added some wax to their rings and then punched it on the rectangular piece of paper, adding seal to it.


    As they handed it to the man in the forefront ¨C who was wearing a red trench coat ¨C he turned around and read the contents to his fellows.


    The hooded figures nodded in silent acknowledgment, feeling slightly excited. However, the man who read it out was sweating. And his hands were trembling. There was a certain sensation of foreboding and horror that gripped his heart like an icy claw.


    The merciless pounding of the rain outside seemed to mirror the current situation, an indication towards the brewing storm both outside and within these walls.


    As they rose up to their feet, they placed their hands on their chests in tandem and gave the two men a steep bow.


    "By the Osiris, we will complete this mission or die trying."


    All of them chanted ¨C a bit above a whisper ¨C audibly, but it couldn''t drown out the foreboding thunderclap that muffled their chant.


    *****************


    Eric Olvasen:


    The evening was thick with the chill of winter, and the soft sound of wind whistling through the trees outside made the ambiance in my room even more romantic¡­ and erotic than it already was.


    The room was a warm refuge from the biting cold outside and the fire crackling in the fireplace added a double layer of warmth between our intertwined, naked bodies.


    I looked down at her, my Lila, her dark brown hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo. Her emerald eyes sparkled as her hands travelled all over my face and then at my chest before wrapping her arms and legs around me.


    I felt my heart swell with a feeling I had been deprived off for so many years.


    Love.


    The scent of her lavender lotion mixed with the faint aroma of the burning wood, creating a haze that blanketed my mind and my rationality.


    Her skin was soft and warm underneath my fingers, and as I traced the curve of her back, she sighed softly, her breath tickling my ear. I dug my face into her neck and moved my own lower body, causing her to let out small, ragged breaths. Her hand pushed subtly against my shoulder, but I pinned it back, over her head.


    I had rarely visited her ever since Arthur and father just¡­vanished. And during this time of my absence, it had felt like a distance had been created between us.


    I loved my family, yes, but I loved her just as much, if not more. She was the only one who had given back the love I had expended.


    As if finally getting in a mood, her fingers closed around my hair and taking a fistful of them in both hands, she forcefully pulled me down. Her lips met mine with a wild, animal-like passion and I lost myself in the sensation of her touch, the taste of our kiss.


    I held her tiny waist and pushed harder and harder, causing her teeth to sink into my lower lip and her back to arch against mine.


    I pulled out, just a little, giving her a few fleeting seconds of respite after her release. Just as I entered again and leaned in to kiss the skin of her neck that was lined with multiple purplish marks, a sudden, insistent vibration shattered the climax that was just¡­right there.


    The sound of Lila''s phone buzzing on the nightstand was jarringly out of place in the cosy setting. I paused and my body tensed. Her legs that were around my waist forced them to close, making me move again.


    "Ignore it," Lila whispered, her voice husky and her fingers threading through my hair to pull me closer. "It can wait. I have waited too long~"


    I moved, slower this time. A bead of sweat rolled down my neck and then between my rhomboids.


    "I told you to switch off your phone¡­" I whispered breathlessly. Breathless not because of the activity we were carrying on but because of the potential possibility of whatever I was thinking.


    "Mm~ Forget it. It doesn''t matter~"


    I pulled out suddenly, the hold of her legs over my waist loosening. My length slipped out of her slick warmth with a soft, plopping sound.


    "Hey¡­"


    As I hovered over the nightstand, I saw an unknown number ringing her phone. That is, of course, it was unknown only to her. I knew very well who this number belonged to.


    Behind me, Lila pulled the sheets back up, just enough that it hid her peaks but her cleavage was still visible. "A call from a random number is more important than sex?" Her tone wasn''t harsh or anything, or maybe it was the anxiety and fear that made everything that came out of her mouth feel much more¡­tame. "You''ve been away for days, Eric, and now¡­this is¡­" She looked away.


    "Lila¡­I can explain, just¡­I know who this is."


    Her large, beautiful emerald eyes snapped back at me. "This is not about knowing if you know who called on my phone. It''s about¡­dignity. My dignity."


    She was right. But the current situation outweighed the measly indulgence of sex. I wasn''t calling her measly, no, but the one calling could end it all.


    I took a deep, shaky breath, steeling myself. The sound of the rain outside the window seemed to grow louder, matching the pounding of my heart.


    I hesitated at first, the phone feeling like a heavy weight in my palm but after a few moments, I pressed the accept button and placed the phone against my ear.


    "Hello?" My voice came out steadier than I felt, but the silence on the other end was unnerving.


    A smooth, familiar voice finally spoke, sending a sweet yet frigid chill down my spine. "Colour me surprised."


    The voice choked out any words I had managed to say.


    "Your little girlfriend looks almost too good for someone like you."


    My entire body was shaking. I had done my best to suppress any memory of Lila, or anything that could give away her existence.


    When was it?


    "That''s disheartening to hear, mother." I replied, trying to act casual.


    "Mother? Why is your mother calling on my phone?"


    "Say my hello to her~!"


    "What do you want? I am in the middle of something¡­"


    "I said, say my hello to her." Her voice hardened like a blade and I felt like she could kill me even over the phone.


    Removing the phone from my ear, I looked at her. "Mom says hello."


    Lila looked the other way, fuming as she picked up her bra and started to wear it.


    I swallowed hard, and continued to steal glances at Lila. She was looking down and her expression was unreadable, but I could see the annoyance in her jaw, the way her fingers gripped the edge of the sheet.


    "What do you want?" I asked again, trying to keep my voice level, but the edge of fear was unmistakable.


    "Haha~!" Mom laughed, "Oh sorry, it was just really funny hearing you talk so defiantly to me. For someone so talentless and pathetic, you indeed have a long tongue." The words felt like a dagger into my heart, renting it apart. I knew I didn''t have the talent in context to Seven Syndicates and magic¡­but did I really deserve such treatment?


    I understood it after a long while.


    That it doesn''t matter. My opinion or what I think is fair, doesn''t matter. Those without power are nothing more than puppets for those who wield it.


    "I am sorry for my tone."


    "Mmm~ Whatever. There is something I need you to do. Come over~ Of course, you must know the consequences if you don''t comply." The voice was so sweet that you could almost miss the fact that it was devoid of any emotion.


    "I understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I''ll be there."


    The call ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence. I stood there, phone still in hand.


    "And where are you going now? And for what purpose?" Lila asked, sitting in her undergarments now and her tone sharper than ever.


    "It''s complicated, Lila," I started, trying to keep my voice calm. "It''s something I have to deal with immediately. But I will be back in an hour or two at best. I promise."


    It was a shallow promise. But I wanted her to buy it. Even though I knew she wouldn''t.


    "Complicated?" She laughed bitterly. "Everything with you has been complicated lately. You disappear for days, you get mysterious calls, and you can''t even stay in bed with me without running off. What''s going on, Eric? Did you finally get tired of me?"


    I wanted to tell her everything, to just tell her who I was. What family I was associated with. What exactly I am. But¡­ but I couldn''t.


    Not yet. I couldn''t risk her life. The world knew about Arcanum now, yes, but our existence was still a mystery.


    "Please trust me, Lila. I''m handling it."


    Her eyes flashed with frustration. "Trust you? How can I trust you when you keep shutting me out?"


    The pain in her voice cut deep, and I reached out to touch her, but she flinched away. "Lila, I''m doing this for us, for our future. I need you to believe that."


    She shook her head, tears welling up in her emerald eyes. "I want to believe you, Eric. I really do. But you''re making it so hard. We can''t work if you keep doing this. We''ve been together for 6 long years, and I expected our bond to grow stronger. But it has been the most fragile in the past month."


    I felt a lump in my throat as I watched her, knowing I was the cause of her pain. "I promise, I''ll explain everything soon. But right now, I have to go."


    Lila''s jaw tensed. The tears in her eyes welled up, but didn''t roll down her cheeks. Pursing her lips once, she looked away and then glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Get dressed up. I''m taking a bath."


    She stood up and clicked the lights on, removing the romantic look of the room. The bright lights felt blinding but my eyes adjusted quickly to them. I looked at her as she walked to the bath. Her stride was as beautiful as ever.


    At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to just pick her up and lay with her until she told me she wanted some space. But¡­having her alive was more important than giving her a momentary peace of mind.


    As I wore my shirt, sweater and long-coat, I completed the whole ensemble with the muffler she had knitted for our 5th anniversary.


    I hastily made my way towards the exit door but suddenly stopped by the bath where the sound of the tub''s tap closing creaked subtly. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. The sound of her body slowly sinking into the bath was visible in my mind''s eye.


    Shakily, I mumbled, ignoring the slight sting in my own eyes.


    "I love you, Lila. Please, just hold on a little longer."


    Before I could remove my head from there, I heard her mumble. Despite it being a whisper, I could hear it. After all, while I was born with no Arcane Art, I could still use Arcanum.


    Her tone was soft now but the hurt was still there. "Just come back to me, Eric. Don''t let this¡­whatever it is, destroy us. The promises we made. Come back before it''s too late."


    I didn''t reply. It wasn''t meant for me to hear. She was talking to herself. I focused away from the bath, feeling as if I was intruding into her privacy.


    With a heavy heart, I walked out of the room, the small hall and then the main door. The cold air outside hit me like a slap as I stepped outside. Despite it being just evening, it was so pitch black that if it wasn''t for the street lights, I wouldn''t even be able to see my own hand.


    Without Arcanum, of course. If our life was a story in a novel, Arcanum for sure would''ve been the major plot device for every convenience we enjoy in our limited, sad life.


    Sad, in a way that the moment we ¨C or at least the heirs ¨C are born, their hearts are filled with hate, contempt and ways of treachery against the others of the Syndicates. And despite the looming threat of the merger, we are still divided. Instead of joining hands with each other, I am sure everyone is leaning more towards getting in cahoots with other species from Eden.


    As I walked, my hand subconsciously went into my pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes.


    "Faen. FAEN." I breathed out, cursing. "J?vla kjerring..." The curse that rolled immediately afterwards from my tongue made a shiver run down my spine as I immediately got rid of that thought¡­memory. I couldn''t just let it sit it in the back of my head.


    If I wanted to live, that is.


    The sky was light dark, softly illuminated by thousands of lights scattered across the city. It was December already, and hence the amount of lighting had increased considerably when compared to the rest of the year due to the approaching Christmas.


    The click of my lighter was light and a tiny spark of warmth came to life right afterwards.


    The flame flickered bravely against the chilly breeze that had slowed down now, casting a playful shadow against my cupped palm that shielded it from getting snuffed out as I carefully brought the flame to the end of my cigarette.


    The tobacco ignited with a subtle crackle, the ember glowing brightly against the ambient light.


    The smoke curled upward, mingling with the city''s myriad scents¡ªdistant car exhausts, the faint aroma of street food, and the crispness of the winter air.


    Buildings, all around me, stretched into the night, their windows reflecting the city''s life. The click and hiss of passing cars mixed in with the soft crackling of my cigarette as I took a deep drag, feeling the warmth spread through my throat.


    Looking upwards, I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate. Slipping one hand into my pocket, I walked in a straight line, along the pavement. Taking my phone out, I opened the app to book a cab and after a few moments it arrived.


    Opening the door, I sat in the front seat.


    "God kveld." He greeted, "Where to?"


    Ah, I forgot to add the destination.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "God kveld." I greeted back as I pulled the seatbelt and locked it into place. "Just drop me at the start of Sandviken."


    The man had a little shocked look on his face before nodding. The engine whirred to life and before long we were moving.


    Our house ¨C mine and Lila''s ¨C was located in Nordnes which is situated south of the city centre of Bergen. It is basically a peninsula surrounded by the sea on three sides, providing waterfront living. I had bought this house since it was quite close to Sandviken, where the Olvasens'' main residence was and because after Sandviken, it was the most beautiful.


    And affordable.


    It might sound strange for me to talk about wealth when my father might be richer than the richest man in the world, but the benefits of that wealth were restricted only to the family head and the heir.


    I would''ve walked to our family house but I don''t think I have the ability to do that right after I have been blue balled.


    Good grief.


    The melancholy still clung to me, and it was only accentuated by the realisation that I was just as sad about not being able to have sex as I was about hurting her. The phrase ''men have their brains between their legs,'' might hold some weight after all.


    Well. As I was saying, while Nordnes was still expensive, I got the house for cheap. So, it was a win-win.


    The reason why the driver had such a reaction to me telling him to take me to Sandviken was because it is almost the richest place one could find to live in Bergen. It had quite a few stunning views that overlooked the fjords¡ªwhich are long, narrow, deep inlets of the sea between high cliffs typically formed by submergence of a glaciated valley¡ªand harbours.


    It''s also ideal for mom in particular to live, since it is famous for its quiet surroundings. Since she is known to lose it in presence of excess noise. And the bar for ''excess'' in her books is quite low. Obviously, even if I don''t know the full details of it, it''s surely because of her Arcane Art.


    After just a few minutes, we were right by the border, the area where Sandviken started.


    However, something felt odd. It wasn''t that I couldn''t put it into words. I could tell exactly what was wrong. But the words ¨C the notion of that felt too absurd. And as much as it sounded absurd ¨C outlandish even, I came to terms with it just as quickly.


    The only ones pushing this possibility into oblivion were gone. It was long due¡­and we had it coming. But the sheer panic of something else gripped at my heart.


    Taking my phone out of my pocket, I dialled a number.


    The phone rang, a few times. And after a while, it died out. I tried again¡­and again.


    Damn it, Lila, pick up the phone.


    I cursed, mentally.


    My heel tapped impatiently against the floor of the car as my phone suddenly chimed. Looking down, I saw a text message.


    ¨q©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨r


    Not right mow, I am busy.


    ¨t©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨s


    It was concerning. But at least she replied. Which means Lila was okay.


    "Stop the car." I spoke as I let out a soft breath.


    "Right here?"


    "Right here."


    Pulling the lever of the indicator (or turn signal for the yanks) he parked it to the side.


    The road was lit with street lights but there were no cars. As expected of the place, it was eerily quiet. Taking out my wallet, I took a few notes out of them and handed it to the man. He looked at them and then at me for a few moments before looking ahead.


    Is he expecting me to give him more?


    Oh hell no.


    Getting out of the car with a plethora of emotions, I waited for the car to drive away. Once it was gone from sight, I slowly started my stride towards the main house. However, instead of going through the main route, I decided to take a shortcut.


    There was a place where there were still houses to be constructed. If I ran in the middle of it, then the other side led directly to the edge of Sandviken which overlooked the Fjords.


    Putting on the burners, I dashed. The sky was cloudy, and it was bound to rain ¨C or even snow any moment now.


    The house was now visible from here. However, there was still some considerable distance given how the rest of the area was a convoluted alleyway after the end of this open field.


    Just as I stepped into the alleyway, my senses flared.


    Not on reflex, but just a sudden twitch moment made me jerk my head to the side. The all-encompassing sound of gunshot reverberating in the stillness of the evening sky reached my ears a few fractions of a second after the bullet whizzed past my ear.


    I stopped as the bullet lodged itself into the wall.


    I could feel my eyes go wide. Long shadows extended from the turn right ahead and the squelches of boots in mud reached my ears from the back.


    "Damn it. How did he dodge it from his blind spot? I thought we had the element of surprise."


    Someone complained while grumbling.


    "Hah! Told ya. You lost the bet now. Give me my grand." The other one snickered.


    "Damn it! Will do later. Let''s get rid of this guy first."


    Looking over my shoulder, I took in their forms. They were wearing long red and black trench coats with black masks hiding their faces. Their hoods were pulled over and the leather patchwork over their coats looked¡­hella cringe. And edgy.


    "Didn''t know that the new season of Assassin''s Creed was being shot in Norway." I spoke without looking back.


    I won''t say I wasn''t scared. These weren''t just normal thugs. I could tell that not because of the foreign gun in the man''s hand but rather the blistering Arcanum that felt unhealthy against my skin.


    One of them let out a light laugh. "Now you know."


    My breathing turned shaky. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs.


    My palms were clammy, and my fingers twitched with nervousness as Arcanum slowly started to slip out of me.


    I was not really trained in efficient use of Arcanum. Hence using it for prolonged periods of time would do more harm than good. But what other choice did I have?


    The air around me felt thick, almost suffocating, as the Arcanum''s unnatural warmth started to leak out of the assassins? as well and started to seep through the alleyway.


    I forced myself to take another deep breath, trying to calm the storm of conflicted emotions inside me.


    Glancing around quickly, I counted the figures in the progressively dimming light. Two were directly behind me, their stances relaxed.


    Their eyes were barely visible through the slits in their masks but I could see the glint of cold intent in them. I shifted my gaze to the alleyway ahead. Two more joined, and there were now four in front of me.


    They were spread out, blocking any chance of escape.


    Six in total. My odds were grim. Speaking in pure quantity, I have never taken on this many at once but¡­


    The image of my little brother flashed into my mind, causing me to smile.


    I had faced worse before. Much, much worse.


    I couldn''t let fear paralyse me. Not now. Not here. I had to act, and fast.


    I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar surge of arcanum coursing through my veins. My muscles tensed, and the wind whispered slightly into my ear.


    As I visualised my first move and was about to pivot and launch my attack, a sudden movement caught my eye.


    Something ignited. Arcanum, I noticed. And then the spark of Arcanum morphed into something sharp- with a cutting edge. Like a blade.


    I had merely blinked and the next moment a fist came hurtling towards my face, fast and precise.


    Time seemed to slow down as I watched it close in, mere inches from my nose.


    I barely had time to react.


    Getting rid of the mumbo-jumbo thoughts, I immediately lowered and ducked, feeling the violent gust of air as the punch narrowly missed my head. I could almost feel the biting cold of the Arcanum-infused fist as it passed by, leaving a faint trail of crackling energy in its path.


    Regaining my balance, I twisted my body to face him.


    "Nice reflexes," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.


    I didn''t bother responding. Words were useless now. I had to rely on action. The other figure behind me shifted, preparing for an attack of his own. I was surrounded, but I couldn''t afford to be overwhelmed.


    I noted the person who had attacked me, segregating his little features from the rest.


    He can use elemental Wind.


    I took a mental note.


    I lunged forward, aiming a punch at the one that had attacked me.


    He moved in to block, but I anticipated his defence and pivoted on my heel, driving my elbow into his ribs. He grunted in pain, stumbling back a step. I didn''t have time to relish the small victory.


    "Captain said not to underestimate him as well." One of the assassins that were standing in the alleyway raised his voice. "He''s an Olvasen, after all."


    My tone turned sharp. "You know who I am. Do you not understand the ramifications of whatever you are doing?" I hissed, trying to intimidate them. Or stall them. Stall until I could find some suitable method to get out of here alive.


    I am not like Arthur. I do not enjoy fights with people stronger than me.


    And that is because I am neither confident nor strong enough to guarantee my survival even against a stronger opponent. At least not in a head-on fight.


    "Who is going to do anything?" The one that had raised his voice, spoke again, full of ridicule. "Your daddy? Your little brother?" He scoffed, condescendingly. "They are dead. No one is coming to your rescue, boy."


    I could feel losing my grip on my temper, but I shrugged it off. I was on a countdown. Losing my head was only going to hasten it.


    Syphoning as much Arcanum as I could in a split second, I coated my fist with it and then punched the ground below. Cracks frenzied from the point of impact and then dust rose up.


    Charging like a mad bull, I tackled the one who was talking to me a few seconds ago and crashed his body into the wall of the house that was on the right side of the opening of the alley.


    He tried to get rid of the hold I had on his waist by plunging his elbow into my back, but I took a step back immediately.


    But he was the first to recover.


    Both of his hands clasped around my neck as I was suddenly pinned against the wall.


    Desperation surged through me as I tried to grapple with the assassin, his breath hot and foul against my face. His icy cold grip tightened around my throat. I could feel my windpipe teetering close to the point of getting crushed as I saw the cold malice tinged with a sadistic pleasure in his eyes, barely visible beneath the edge of his mask.


    My vision started to blur, dark spots dancing at the edges.


    Desperation and wild instincts kicked in as I kicked his nut-sack and then hugged him, sinking my teeth into his ear.


    The taste of sweat and blood filled my mouth as I bit down harder, the coppery tang causing bile to rise up.


    He screamed, and flailed his arms about but I didn''t let go. My teeth grounded against the cartilage, feeling it tear and give way under the pressure.


    His blood gushed into my mouth, warm and sickening, as I ripped his ear free with one decisive yank.


    He staggered back, clutching the side of his head, blood streaming through his fingers. The detached ear dropped from my mouth to the ground with a wet thud.


    I spat the remaining mangled flesh out.


    Arcanum started to concentrate and a small tornado started to whisk away the veil of dust that had concealed us. Finding this the right moment, I left the man behind and started to run away.


    The alleyway was a narrow stretch of shadow between the high, empty houses of this part of Sandviken, dimly lit by the streetlights on the other side.


    My heavy breaths fogged in the chill as I ran. Ran without looking back.


    The wall to my right exploded outwards, throwing huge amounts of bricks in my direction.


    Panic rushed and I immediately brought my arms upwards.


    However, a green light signified something else.


    Instead of bringing my arms upwards, I suddenly dropped down and hugged my knees, avoiding the barrage of blades of wind that shot towards me, concealed behind the incoming bricks.


    No sooner had I dodged, someone landed by my side, his hand glowing with a pale blue light. Water coalesced around his fist, forming into a jagged shard of ice that he hurled at me.


    I rolled to the side, the ice shard shattering against the collapsed mess of the brick wall and solid ground with a sharp crack.


    Springing to my feet, I closed the distance between us, aiming a punch at his jaw. It connected and he staggered back, but his partner was already moving, conjuring a whirlwind that wrapped around my legs and lifted me off the ground.


    Gritting my teeth, I fought against the pull of the wind by imbuing my body with Arcanum, struggling to stay grounded.


    I lashed out with a kick, catching the wind mage in the chest. He grunted and stumbled but the damage I was dealing was like using a +1 katana against a comet azure spammer.


    Fuck you, Eric. It''s not the time to make game references!


    Another mage stepped in, launching a torrent of water that struck me full in the chest, knocking me back into the opposite wall.


    I hit the brick wall hard and was then sent flying through it, breaking the water pipes in the process. The cold water poured down at me leaving me gasping for breath as it soaked through my clothes.


    The taste of blood filled my mouth, and I struggled to focus. I had barely moved when a kick caused me to gasp and I was yet again thrown through the walls and into another house. Thankfully, this was an empty one as well. But I knew it¡­I knew that I couldn''t get this lucky over and over again.


    There was no time to recover. One of them was already upon me, swirling wind circling his whole arm. He swung at me as I raised to my knees and barely blocked it. The force made the bones in my arms rattle and shred the fabric first and then rent the upper layer of my skin.


    Arcanum slipped by itself, trying to protect me from the assault.


    But I had him where I wanted.


    While igniting elemental magic, there was a spark. Like fire needing the basic three conditions to initiate with a spark and then morph into a full-blown fire. It was the same for other elemental magic as well. Be it water, wind, earth or ice.


    As I observed his other companions watching the fight in an amusing way from a distance, I focused on the one in front of me.


    As his spark got snuffed out and was about to reinitiate, I retaliated with a barrage of punches, each one connecting with his ribs and face.


    He reeled, but the others were closing in. I spun around, just in time to see another mage forming a sphere of water above his head. With a shout, he sent it hurtling towards me.


    I ducked, the sphere smashing into the wall where my head had been moments before, water spraying everywhere.


    Using it as a good moment, I jabbed with all my strength into the wind mage''s throat. He threw up blood and spat all over my face, but such trivial things hardly mattered. As he fell to his knees, I broke through the window and started running again.


    Panting, I glanced around. Two behind, two circling to cut me right ahead.


    They were coordinating their attacks, trying to wear me down. I had an advantage in pure Arcanum amount, but crude Arcanum was in its weakest form. It was like throwing bullets via hand or a slingshot versus someone with an AK-47 or a M16.


    I couldn''t let them outdo me.


    I had so much planned, damn it!


    With a roar, I came to a sudden halt and then charged at the nearest one, tackling him into the wall and breaking it in the process. Screams erupted as this time we had broken into a house with a lot of people.


    We rolled on the floor, grappling for control.


    He tried to summon water, but I pinned his arms, driving my knee into his stomach. He coughed and gasped, but his comrades were already on me.


    A booted foot connected with my side, and I cried out in pain, rolling off him and breaking through the wall across the house and then crashing out of the other rear end of the house.


    I scrambled to my feet, but a blast of wind caught me, sending me sprawling. I hit the ground hard, again, and this time my vision blurred.


    Pain coursed throughout my body, and I could feel the cold tendrils of fear tightening around my heart. Not just fear, but my lack of control over Arcanum was causing it to slip out unnecessarily, stripping away the comforting warmth of the magic fuel.


    Not yet.


    I forced myself to stand, swaying on my feet.


    The mages surrounded me, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement. They thought they had me. Maybe they did after all.


    "Do yourself a favour and die. Do you really want us to beat you to death like a dog?" The one in the lead spoke. There were only 3 of them now.


    The one I had kicked in the ribs was still incapacitated.


    "I am an Olvasen. Do you really think¡ª"


    "Bahaha." The man broke out in laughter. He laughed, for quite a long time. And when he stopped, he looked at me like I was some trash. "You are the worst of what the ''oh-so mighty'' Olvasens have to offer. I don''t even know what the deal with you is, haha."


    Condescension. It was a weapon that only a few could wield masterfully. And while the words stung, they were certainly not enough to make me lower my guard.


    A sudden jolt of pain invaded my head as something¡­resurfaced. Like a memory. Buried deep beneath layers of dirt. Dirt and¡­arcanum. An Arcane Art.


    I couldn''t tell. What was it?


    It was like having a fever dream. I could feel someone¡­not short but not tall right beside me. Her words were soft, lovely¡­so, so sweet.


    ''Remember. A wolf''s biggest strength isn''t its fangs, or speed, or its power. No. It''s the pack. Break it. Give its pack the mental and physical torment. And the wolf would eventually break¡­''


    The words were cruel, but the tone was so sincere that it didn''t feel bad.


    Who was this? Who was talking? I have never heard such a voice. Nor this presence.


    The splitting headache was accentuated further as a fist collided into my chin and I was lifted a few feet above the ground. As I landed a yard away from them, my senses circled, like I was trapped in a washing machine.


    And then I was running towards them.


    Break the pack.


    That''s what the voice said. I am not sure what this whole thing is, but it was right. Eerily right.


    I lunged at the nearest assassin, feinting to the left before driving my fist into his gut. He doubled over, and I followed up with a knee to his face, sending him crashing to the ground. Another one lashed out with a blade of wind, slicing through the air where I had been a moment before. I dodged and countered with a kick to his knee, hearing a satisfying crack as he fell.


    I noticed something. Their coordination was what made them dangerous. Individually, even someone like me was able to slowly whittle them down.


    A torrent of water struck me from behind, knocking me to my knees.


    I gasped for breath, feeling the cold seep into my bones.


    Before I could recover, a whirlwind wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground and slamming me into the road.


    The impact drove the air from my lungs, and I crumpled to the ground, barely able to move.


    Even though I know what to do¡­ I can''t do anything in the end.


    She¡­mom was right. I was pathetic. As a son, as a member of the Olvasen. As a boyfriend.


    Through the haze of pain, I saw them closing in, their faces hidden but their intent clear.


    They were going to finish this. I struggled to rise, but my body wouldn''t obey. I could feel the darkness closing in, the edges of my vision going black.


    Just as one of them raised his hand, a sphere of wind forming in his palm, a figure seemed to blur.


    A leg, I noticed, caught on blistering crimson flames clubbed down with a speed that was almost impossible to follow. And the following moment, the man''s body was cleaved into half, each side burning. The long coat started to melt instantaneously, sticking to his skin and making the man cry so loud that it might''ve reverberated throughout Bergen.


    They paused, turning towards the newcomer.


    I blinked, trying to clear my vision. A figure stood at the mouth of the alley, silhouetted against the dim light. It was a short man with cropped black hair and almond shaped black eyes.


    Jack, I noticed. Arthur''s Taekwondo''s instructor.


    "Are you okay, young--" Before he could talk, blades of wind, balls of water and shards of ice arched upwards and then fell down on him like a fish net.


    All of the spells collided and a mushroom of smoke raised upwards.


    For a while they totally disregarded me and kept their eyes on the impact point where the spells had collided.


    Jack''s hair fluttered for a single, fleeting moment as he stepped forward, and I saw a flash of metal. The object suddenly got caught on flames and flashed, and then one of the mages cried out, clutching his arm as blood spurted from the deep gash.


    I took the opportunity to push myself up, using the wall for support. My vision was still blurry, but I could make out their battle, his weapon weaving a deadly pattern through the air.


    Even his arms and legs were on fire now, as the smouldering flames burned the air, vapourised the water and melted the ice.


    As they were fighting, I saw the one that I had tackled into a house of people and kicked in the ribs, slowly sneaking in on Jack.


    He took out the gun from his back and aimed it at Jack who was engaged in a close quarters spellcasting fight.


    He can''t protect himself from his blind spot.


    In the chaos, I staggered forward, desperation gnawing at me.


    I didn''t know him too well. But I couldn''t let someone like him die. Someone who was risking his life for me.


    The pistol glinted under the bent streetlight as he aimed at Jack.


    My heart pounded in my chest, time seeming to slow down. There was no room for hesitation. With a burst of arcanum and adrenaline, I lunged forward like a missile, tackling him to the wall, once again.


    We rolled and hit the pavement hard, the impact jolting my bones, but I didn''t let go.


    He started to club the gun''s metal surface on my back. Each strike felt like it was cracking my bones. A thin layer of Arcanum covered me as I managed to wrest the gun away from his grasp, tossing it aside.


    My hands flailed wildly to the side as my fingers touched something long and hard. I grabbed it ¨C a metal bar from the rubble we were wrestling on.


    Before he could react, I positioned myself behind him and then pressed the bar against his neck, using all my strength to pin him down. My own back pressed hard against the back of the wall that had spiky metal jutting out of it.


    His eyes bulged with panic, and his hands clawed at the bar, struggling for breath.


    Jack was holding well against the last 2. One of them had a hacked-off arm and the other''s face was half burnt while Jack himself had little to no injury.


    I was pinning the assassin down when suddenly a cold splash of water hit me.


    A summoned water bubble encased my head like a deep-sea diving helmet.


    I gasped for air, but only water filled my lungs. The sensation of drowning was immediate and terrifying. Very terrifying. My vision blurred for¡­hundredth time today, as I fought against the urge to breathe.


    My hands tightened around the bar, my mind getting torn by a whirlwind of conflict.


    I didn''t want to kill this man.


    I had tortured countless spies before, yes, as part of the "mighty" Olvasens because that was all I was capable of.


    Capable of breaking prisoners.


    But I had never taken a life. The thought of crossing that line, of becoming a killer, made my stomach churn.


    But the water, the suffocating, drowning water, thinned the array of choices I could make.


    My grip tightened further, my muscles screaming in protest.


    I let out a gurgling roar as more water rushed through like water infiltrating a broken hull and the mage''s struggles weakened, his hastened breaths turning into desperate gasps. I pulled harder, every fibre of my being fighting against the rising panic in my chest.


    Then, with a rather muted and less dramatic snap, his neck gave way and my body jerked backwards, the spiky metal stabbing through my coat, shirt and skin alike, followed by the warm sensation of blood flowing out.


    The water bubble vanished instantly, leaving me gasping for air and my lungs burning.


    I let go of him and his limp body subtly leaned to the side as the metal bar slipped away from my hands.


    As the survival instincts washed away and rationality returned, I felt the weight of what I had just done.


    And boy did the realisation of it struck me like Sekiro Deathblow.


    An intangible river of blood started to run between my fingers.


    I had always known where my line was drawn. Torture, they said¡­as I was told, was an art.


    An art I mastered to please her¡­to see that glint of approval in my mother''s eyes, to feel like I belonged in her world.


    But now, existing in this current moment¡­reality, I can''t help but wonder if I''ve been fooling myself all along.


    I killed to save Jack. But that justification just feels hollow. The dying gasps of that assassin were fresh in my mind, blurring the line I swore I''d never cross. Torture was my compromise, my twisted way of fitting in, of proving my worth.


    But this was the ironclad truth now, despite how painful it was.


    I had become what I despised the most¡­feared the most.


    A murderer.


    I was¡­no, I am a hypocrite. Always have been.


    What kind of person finds solace in causing suffering? And now, what kind of person finds justification in killing, even for a "noble" cause?


    I''ve seen the faces of people I have tortured, the fear and agony I''ve inflicted, and told myself it was for a greater good, for recognition, for love.


    But love shouldn''t demand such cruelty, should it?


    I understood it when I found Lila. The love of my life.


    I had double vowed for her¡­for our future''s sake, to never cross this line. Even it meant disregarding mom''s approval.


    And now that my hands are irrevocably tainted, I can''t ignore this growing doubt.


    Is it really enough to stop short of killing?


    Does that make me any better than those who do? Or have I merely found a different kind of darkness to lose myself in?


    The reflection staring back at me was not the hero I wanted to be since I was a little child, not the person Lila would truly be proud of.


    My mother might wave this off as "It was just one life." but it is very different for me.


    After all this, can I even find a way back to the light, or have I drifted too far into the shadows to ever return.


    But I can''t even let this drag me down as well. I had to live with it. Not forgive myself, but live with it. For Lila''s sake, for our future, I have to try.


    I don''t need forgiveness. Just a continued reminder of what I have done.


    That would do it.


    Those words and Jack''s desperate calls were the last thing I heard as darkness claimed me, and I fell into the realm of unconsciousness, guilt and deep regret being the sole company that subconsciously accompanied me.

 54: Painless Respite

    Arthur Olvasen POV:


    "Good! Everyone''s here!" Jayden''s loud voice suddenly boomed over the open field.


    As all of the guests'' heads turned to locate where the voice had come from, I looked straight up to see a wyvern¡­easily thrice the size of the ones that had arrived to escort us to the castle, hovering over the field.


    This absolute beast was at least 8 metres long and its wingspan was well over 10 metres.


    With its sharp talons tucked underneath it, the wyvern slowly made its descent, revealing Jayden, dressed in what looked like his nightrobes, standing up on the back of the beast.


    We were currently standing in the middle of a giant stadium-like structure that buzzed with an energy which was almost palpable.


    As my eyes swept over the crowd, it became clear that this was more than just a mock battle; it was a spectacle. Be it to serve the purpose of feeling good by defeating us ¨C humans, or just the general curiosity of how we fight.


    Since the upper echelons'' hate was much subdued compared to common folk, being amidst so many people was not as jarring and nerve wracking as the other moments. However, being observed during every second was not a pleasant experience either.


    One side of the arena was filled with all the guests of the banquet.


    Their excitement rippled through the air like a tangible force. And while mostly they were silent, occasional cheers and shouts echoed off the stone walls.


    The three lords of Central Dominion were seated in a giant cabin at the very top of the stands. Meanwhile, Aksel was in a separate booth-like structure. Jayden also unmounted his Wyvern and walked over to the same booth.


    After a few seconds, the three lords left the cabin and stood beside the booth, hands clasped in front of them.


    No matter how powerful they looked, they were really subservient to Jayden. And if Aksel really captured a deal with him, it might get even more troublesome than I had initially anticipated.


    Bringing my attention back to the matter at hand, I observed how even amidst the fervour of the incoming mock duel, pockets of disdain were unmistakable.


    Faces¡­twisted in contempt, unable to hide their disgust at seeing their "noble heirs" lower themselves to battle humans. To them, this was an affront to their very nature.


    Michael and I had changed into our battle gear.


    The outfits were simple yet functional: tight jackets and a series of straps wrapped around our legs and arms, designed for flexibility and¡­protection. Although from the looks of it, I don''t think mere straps are going to hold out in the face of whatever is coming for us.


    I can''t really understand the motive behind it.


    Does Jayden want to show his kids off? Or does he want to show his governors or whatnot that we are not really pushovers by pitching the heirs against each other? If that is the intention, it means that he is confident in his kids'' abilities to help him emphasise his point.


    I moved my arm, trying to get rid of the fatigue that was wrecking my whole body. I really need a massage.


    The tight fabric clung to me like a second skin. But it wasn''t really uncomfortable.


    Astrid, though not participating, was wearing a similar jacket.


    It wasn''t that clingy to her since she was quite lean. So even though the jackets were meant to cling to one''s body, she still had a bit of space between her flesh and fabric.


    Except for her bottoms. For some reason it had really tightened back there.


    Her side-pony had transitioned into a high-ponytail.


    "Man, I could use another drink." Michael grumbled as he fiddled with the hexagonal necklace around his neck. He clearly wasn''t sober. But after watching him fight in The Keep, I know this won''t pose a problem.


    "I agree." I replied as he gave me a stupefied look.


    "What?"


    "The world must be ending." He shook his head and then poked his little finger into his ear. "Or I''ve gone senile."


    "I can agree with you, you know, sometimes." I gave a half-hearted response.


    "Given our current situation, I''d love to drink myself to sleep as well."


    Michael scoffed. "We are proper alcoholics, aren''t we?"


    "I guess."


    I wasn''t talking in a circle or anything. I was really tired.


    Lack of sleep, repeated battles with Ed, Wujins¡­getting trapped in Jayden''s Technique Deployment. The only little moment of rest was the 40 minutes of bath time.


    After that it had been a mental battle of suppressing the urge to go rabid and kill every demon.


    Not out of joy, of course. Not at all...


    The buildup of fatigue ¨C both mental and physical ¨C had me reeling. And while I was excited to battle someone from Cromwell without getting trapped in an extra-dimensional box with a 100% mortality rate, it was not enough to get my spirits high enough.


    I was already feeling defeated. It was a good thing I had not drunk any kind of alcohol. Goddess knows what kind of disaster that would''ve pulled.


    On the other side, the two younger siblings ¨C heirs of Cromwells ¨C finally made an appearance which threw the crowd into a 30 seconds long, ecstatic frenzy.


    The younger brother of the two was named Lucian Cromwell, and the girl was named Isolde Cromwell.


    Their jackets, though simple in design, looked much more refined and elegant than ours.


    As I saw Michael yawn with his mouth so wide open, I shook my head. Maybe it''s us¡ªourselves who are not letting us look elegant, no matter the clothes.


    The fabric of their fit subtly shimmered in the moonlight. Lucian''s jacket was deep blue with silver accents along the seams, whereas Isolde''s jacket was rich burgundy with gold designs.


    Too flashy.


    My eyes hurt from the sparkles already.


    "Gather in the centre." Jayden barely bottled his excitement as it spread throughout the stadium via the voice amplifying artefact.


    "Good luck." Astrid chimed before taking steps back and then walking towards the nearest seat she could find, isolated from the rest of the crowd.


    "Don''t get kidnapped by a pervert in a dark corner." Michael waved his hand.


    "Oddly specific." I interjected.


    "That''s the trope." He shrugged his shoulders and started to walk with his back hunched in a weird posture.


    As we walked to the centre, Lucian and Isolde''s features became more prominent.


    Lucian had the same cold, unwavering look on his face. It wasn''t that of condescension, or hate. Just a cold detachment from everything around him.


    And while his sister ¨C Isolde''s gaze burned like an inferno; it held every bit of contempt one would expect from someone from Eden towards humans.


    Although the nature¡­or rather, the reason behind that contempt seemed to stem from something much more¡­personal.


    Her hair, instead of being let loose, was tied in a high ponytail. Which was quite practical, given our current situation of combat.


    In a mock battle with someone you hate unconditionally, having your sight impaired by your hair is the last thing you''d want.


    "Let''s start the highly anticipated mock battle between our young masters¡­the future of Central Dominion ¨C Young Master Lucian Cromwell and Young Lady Isolde and their two human counterparts ¨C Arthur Olvasen and Michael White!"


    A voice, different this time, announced from somewhere.


    "This is a mock battle, so the winner will be decided when someone has both of his knees touching the ground or in a more extreme outcome, completely incapacitated. Dulling of the weapon''s edge is up to the participants'' discretion."


    He explained the terms and then paused. It seemed like Jayden was talking to them, since I could hear barely audible whispers from the other side of the artefact. After a while of whispering, the voice came out again.


    "Usage of Arcane Arts is also undesirable by Lord Cromwell. While it is not outright prohibited, it has been declared as an unnecessary act. The decision is up for discussion between the participants."


    Oh. Cool.


    So, I was excited for nothing.


    Well, I suppose I can talk it out if I want¡­but do I have the social skill to negotiate it with people who don''t even want to be in close proximity to us?


    Michael slammed his hand into his fist. "I ain''t got no problem with that."


    Lucian shrugged his shoulders, his eyes sharp and fixated on Michael. He was an inch taller than both of us. "I share the same thought as Michael." His voice, in contrast to his cold, cutting edge outward appearance was much more mellow and controlled. Refined.


    "What is the point of this duel then?" On the contrary, his sister didn''t seem too happy with her brother and father''s decision. "This is an equivalent of making a mockery out of the mock duels."


    "Mock ¨C duels. Duh." Michael rolled his eyes.


    "Calm down, Isolde. Father has left the discretion to the participants. You can just request to be allowed to use Arcane Arts." His eyes flicked towards me.


    "That is, of course, if the one concerned also presents his consent towards it."


    I looked at Isolde, and despite Lucian having said it, I asked her instead. "So, is it naturally decided that I have to face you, in particular, instead of having a choice myself?"


    Isolde took a step forward, her face a mere inch away from me. She was as tall as Astrid as her gaze hardened like a rock. An immovable rock. "Yes."


    "Your father is not wrong." I replied, taking half a step until the space between us was barely visible. Hovering my face right above hers, I spoke again.


    "Using Arcane Arts against me might come to bite you back."


    Her forehead creased ever so slightly as she moved closer, removing the miniscule distance we had between us.


    A shiver ran down my spine as I suppressed the urge to rip her body to shreds.


    "Watch your words, human." She hissed and then turned around, the white ponytail frolicking. "I will face this one."


    She pointed at me, as if remembering my name was a chore. It''s so simple as well. "Permission to use Arcane Arts."


    "It wasn''t banned from the get-go." I corrected as I felt her body bristle, but she continued to look at the booth where both Jayden and Aksel were.


    A moment of silence went by like the passage of a hundred years. And then a familiar voice boomed.


    "Don''t over-do it." Jayden spoke as she turned around to face me, her features shining with a victorious look.


    "Arthur." He ended the sentence in my name, causing the brattish look on her face to vanish and was replaced by the same frown as before.


    "Temper, Isolde." Lucian interjected as he turned around. "You are fuming."


    "I know." She seethed through her teeth before turning around as well.


    Lucian looked at Michael and then at me. "An assortment of fine weapons would be presented at the far end of the place where you just came from."


    His eyes flicked continuously from me to Michael and then back at me. "If you don''t have a soul-bound "Essence Arm", you can choose one from there."


    I was about to ask but Michael beat me to it. In a rather crude way, albeit.


    "Hah?! Essence Arm? Sounds cringe!"


    At least make it less obvious that we have no idea about something they are so casual about.


    Without turning completely back, Lucian looked at us with a confused look. He extended his hand to the side as the space around his hand tore open in a fraction of a second and a long spear manifested into his palm.


    The dark obsidian coloured spear was much taller than him and the crimson tip glinted eerily in the moonlight.


    "Essence Arms. Weapons bound to your soul." He spoke indifferently and then looked at Michael in an amused way as the spear disappeared into nothingness. "I assume you do not have one, yes?"


    "Eh, don''t need one." Michael shrugged, but from the way his eyes were shining, I was sure he was curious about it.


    "Alright then. Make your selection about your weapons. Let us not delay this bout anymore." He paused, looking around. "I am sure you are not enjoying being spectated like a pet beast."


    "I don''t need to make a weapon selection. I am fine as is." Michael smacked his fist into his palm once again. "Bring your spear out."


    Lucian scoffed. "Weapons are but mere decorations. Objects of convenience." He took a step forward. "I will take you on in a bare-handed fight. Since you look so¡­confident."


    "Now that''s what I am talking about, alright." He jeered as the two jumped back, creating 15 yards of distance between them.


    As I turned my head towards Isolde, she growled, lowering hand before chanting a name underneath her breath.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ?Wyrm Barb?


    The space around her hand twisted before rupturing outwards, like stabbing a sheet of paper with a compass. Her hand entered the small tear and she pulled out a rope¡ªa lasso to be particular¡ªof a decent girth out.


    However, it was only when she fully pulled it out that I saw why this weapon was worthy enough to be called ''soul-bound.''


    Whatever would that mean.


    The end of the lasso was a javelin carved out of an unknown metal that shimmered with a faint blue-green sheen. The shaft of the javelin was adorned with runes that glowed softly and pulsed with a life of their own.


    The barbed sides of the javelin looked like wyrm''s fangs, glistening with a silvery hue.


    Strands of iridescent energy coiled around the shaft like snakes during mating season, intertwining with the knot of the lasso that trailed behind it.


    And even when the rift closed and she rested her hand to the side, the lasso and javelin moved subtly. Alive and breathing.


    I felt Isolde''s fingers wrap tightly around Wyrm Barb as the weapon hummed softly in response to her touch, arcanum scorching the space around it. The remnants of the crack in space disappeared with a soft whisper.


    There was an air of superiority around her, as if just summoning her weapon had guaranteed her win.


    She was arrogant and I was assuming she had means to back it up.


    I felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. Breaking such people was the most fun out of everything one could do. To crush something one values the most.


    Pride- for such people, is the most valuable possession.


    "Brandish your weapon, human. So, you don''t make excuses later on."


    "That would be no problem." I spoke as I raised my hand and a sword flew from the place where they were sorted for us to pick into my hand as I flicked it to the side before pointing the tip at her.


    "In return, I am expecting you to not end up as rust on this sword too quickly."


    "Too much talk."


    "That''s rich, from you." I scoffed.


    I had no idea how powerful she was. Even if we were talking in the ''Categories,'' I had no idea.


    I didn''t even know my own exact evaluation. Gauging her should be the first priority.


    "Isolde." Lucian called out from behind as she grumbled to herself before falling back. The single ornament attached to her side-horns jingled as she walked.


    Taking in a deep breath as I watched her walk away, I jumped back as well.


    This was an odd way to battle. Normally battles do not go like this.


    Even if it is a mock battle, some very good fighters¡ªwho rely mostly on tricks via surprise attack¡ªmight just outright lose due to the method.


    "Alright, derp. Let''s not embarrass ourselves." Michael spoke underneath his breath as he lowered his stance. Lucian got into a stance as well, bringing his hands upwards.


    It was¡­kind of nice to not hear him outright swear.


    "No promises." I replied, rolling my shoulders before stretching sideways as it let out a series of satisfying pops.


    "Heh. Your wife is watching. So, you better not."


    "She''s my wife now?" I raised a brow.


    "Whatever man. Unrelated, but I am calling dibs on Isolde."


    This guy can''t be serious.


    "Sure. Whatever." I shrugged, not really believing my ears.


    Arcanum exploded like a column of light from both Michael and Lucian as the ground started to crack.


    I turned forward as well, imbuing humble amounts of arcanum into my body and sword. My hair and clothes fluttered as the ground beneath me shuddered and wind started to swirl around me.


    The announcer''s powerful voice echoed through the stadium, signalling us to begin.


    "LET THE MATCH COMMENCE!"


    ****


    On the announcer''s signal, all four of the combatants dashed forward. Lucian, who was bare-handed, for now, was to Isolde''s left and a bit ahead of her.


    Arthur and Michael split up as soon as the siblings charged.


    Michael circled around the left side as he prepared to take on Lucian, while Isolde dashed around the right side to confront Arthur before he reached her.


    Reaching the middle of the field before Arthur, she looked straight ahead, and calmly waited for Arthur to get into an appropriate range.


    Her face twisted into a haughty sneer that seemed to say ''I don''t need to get ready for you.''


    As Arthur approached closer and closer, the arrogance in her expression grew more pronounced, each second making it clear she felt utterly confident and unthreatened.


    The wyrmbarb pulsed and writhed like a cobra in her grip, humming and glowing.


    Arthur cast one fleeting look at Michael as he and Lucian clashed, which was followed by a giant shockwave which whisked up an incredulous amount of dust and gravel upwards, whipping up a short-lived sandstorm.


    ''He''ll be fine.''


    Arthur thought to himself, even though the slight doubt in his heart said otherwise.


    Even at a glance, Arthur was the wariest of Lucian. Anyone who doesn''t wear a single emotion on his face, despite the situation presenting itself, at all times was a troublesome person in Arthur''s book.


    Not only that but he couldn''t help but shake the feeling of sly craftiness that he felt from him.


    And since Michael wasn''t someone who thinks too much, this spar wasn''t going to be decided on who has more physical strength or who has more stored Arcanum.


    It was going to be hard for Michael. Even if he were to somehow remove the limitations on his Arcanum pool.


    Arthur took a deep breath and blocked out everything else.


    As far as he was concerned, this was not only a simple fight between him and Isolde. But it was also about satiating his every growing curiosity.


    Curiosity of filling the bottomless chasm of his mind with information about more and more Arcane Arts. And how they work and influence his own. And finally break the curse on his mind.


    Narrowing his eyes in utmost concentration, each powerful step he took created small craters in the ground as the wind buzzed around him.


    Isolde let out a patronising chortle before she whipped her Wyrmbarb.


    The rope javelin screeched through the air, slicing it as Arthur suddenly decelerated.


    His foot twisted as he dodged to the left and the javelin missed its mark, slicing through the space where he had been standing, hissing angrily as it flew past.


    Arthur felt heat against his skin, the arcanum radiating from the lasso attached to the javelin burning like molten lava.


    It''s not her own.


    Arthur noticed, smacking his lips, as if he could taste the arcanum.


    The arcanum slipping out of the soul-bound weapon felt foreign, albeit slightly, to Isolde''s own arcanum signature. Or that is the conclusion which Arthur arrived on.


    The reasoning behind it was quite straightforward. He assumed that it was because her arcanum''s nature should not be so blisteringly hot. The arcanum a person emits; its nature depends on the arcane art a person awakens.


    Just like how Astrid''s arcanum¡ªeven without using the arcane art¡ªwas cool and soothing. Yet oppressive.


    And Michael''s felt chaotic. Ready to explode¡­to ''atomise'' everything in its path at a moment''s notice.


    Isolde pulled at the lasso and immediately it was reeling back.


    Without turning back, Arthur extended his hand and gripped the base where the lasso tied into a golden knot with the javelin. However, as soon as his fingers had coiled around the base, he let go of it.


    Wyrmbarb whistled and the base was now back in Isolde''s hand.


    Arthur looked down, sword clasped in one and eyes fixed on the other. Three holes were punctured into his palm, and arcanum was already flowing towards it, aiding in hastening the process of clotting the blood loss.


    ''Barbs and spikes, hmm?'' Arthur mused as Isolde pressed down on her lip, suppressing a sneer. ''No. Not barb. They are teeth¡­fangs. Wyrm? The name might make sense then.''


    He shifted his grip on his sword, giving it a slight tug and swing, testing its balance. The blade, unlike Isolde''s, did not give out any dramatic hum or swish in the air.


    ''How interesting.''


    Pressing the ground beneath her, she shot forward.


    Arthur stopped moving, gripping his sword even tighter. "You''re coming towards me?"


    Without answering, she flicked Wyrmbarb in her hand, the rope javelin coiling and uncoiling like a living serpent.


    It lashed out again and Arthur brought his sword up, holding it with both hands as he pointed the tip at her and then stretched it back.


    However, this time the javelin curved mid-flight.


    At the same time, the lasso extended and glowed as Isolde threw a loop straight at Arthur.


    ''A two-sided attack¡­not bad.''


    Arthur''s feet twisted violently and then without moving out of a certain range, he weaved in and out of the multiple loops that followed the first one.


    To an ordinary person, it seemed like he was just moving his lower body, however¡­


    Up above, beside Jayden''s booth, Thalor Vorlith¡ªthe Duke of Valemount¡ªnervously bit at his nails.


    ''This can''t be possible¡­how does he know of our skill?''


    In the two specific moments during the fight between Arthur and Ed, where he had shown a footwork to which Arthur had lost his life, almost ¨C twice, he had managed to copy it.


    Although it was nothing close to what Ed had done by completely throwing Arthur''s senses into a frenzy, he was still able to use it to an extent where he could dodge attacks like this one.


    Suddenly Arthur''s senses flared and he ducked, his sword flashing a moment after in an upward slash to his back as he parried the attack from the javelin.


    The rope at the javelin''s base twisted around his blade, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he untangled it and stepped back.


    ''He dodged it from his blind spot?''


    The sneer on Isolde''s face had all but vanished.


    Not giving him a moment to breathe, she pulled at Wyrmbarb, and the javelin snapped back into her hand with a hiss. She spun it in a wide arc, the rope crackling with arcanum as she launched it again.


    Arthur raised his sword to block, but Wyrmbarb curved around the blade, aiming for his side.


    He twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike, and countered with a swift slash of his own by reducing the distance between them via a quick dash.


    The rope coiled around Arthur''s shoulders and held him in place as Isolde took a frantic jump back, running away from the sword''s range.


    With Arthur still tied by the lasso, the javelin slithered like a rattle-snake towards Arthur''s chest.


    "This is the end." Isolde declared with an apathetic look.


    For the first time since arriving in Lawold, Arthur smiled, a little. Although it was more akin to a mocking scoff. "You can''t be serious."


    Arthur''s body crackled and azure sparks of lightning danced around him, snapping and flickering against the lasso and then clobbering at the javelin, knocking it off course.


    It illuminated the air with a fierce, radiant glow. The ground trembled under the sheer force of arcanum slipping out of his body, the lightning pulses drumming in open air. It was like the echo of thunders were constantly being bombarded into everyone''s ears.


    The surface of the rope started to give away, and despite the arcanum fighting against the lightning sparks, it continued to experience breakage.


    The javelin was stuck to the magnetised rock beneath as lightning morphed into small claws, ripping away at it.


    The first few strands snapped with a sharp, twanging sound, sending tiny sparks of blue light into the air and then the rope creaked and groaned under the pressure. Lightning augmented Arthur''s sword as he swung it down.


    It had met the lasso only for a fleeting second as a ripping sound filled the air and then, Wyrmbarb was gone.


    Arthur could still feel the distortion in the air, the dimensions bending and twisting ever-so-slightly.


    "You can summon it back at will as well?" Arthur cracked his neck to the side as he rubbed his shoulder. "How vapid."


    Despite talking to himself, Isolde could hear what he was talking. Her jaw tensed as Wyrmbarb appeared back into her hand.


    Arthur narrowed her gaze at her, his eyes travelling from the weapon to her body and then up towards her face. Beads of sweat were suddenly rolling down her temples, right beneath where her second pair of horns started and dripped along her sharp jawline.


    ''She can''t do it many times. Cancelling a weapon when it''s in an active state and resummoning it back in an instant might exert a burden on the user.''


    Arthur thought to himself, giving Isolde a few moments of recovery. Lightning was still coiling around him, like a guardian angel, flickering in and out of life in random intervals.


    ''But this is becoming dreadfully tedious. Soul-bound weapons might be unique, yes, but they hardly deserve such fascination. It''s almost pitiable to fawn over mere tools.''


    Arthur thought to himself as a frown found its way to his face.


    ''I need to see. Learn¡­more...even more...''


    A surge of Arcanum suddenly exploded out from Arthur and shook the entire stadium as his gaze hardened.


    ''¡­and then adapt to her Arcane Art. I need to see it. Merely deflecting and counterattacking won''t make her use it.''


    Cold sweat broke out on Isolde''s neck and down her spine as she felt the oppressive Arcanum weigh down on her. As if gravity had suddenly increased multiple times over.


    The buzzing of static due to lightning existing by his mere presence amplified even more, as Arthur''s presence alone started to break the ground beneath him.


    ''A crucible of desperation. It''s a shame but it''s only when you push someone into a corner like a rat, it''s there, when the ultimate survival instinct kicks in. A moment¡­or multiple moments of invincibility. But strip away that defiance¡­crush that spirit of resistance, and they become pliable.''


    Arthur pointed his sword at Isolde once again. "Brace yourself."


    ''I''ve had enough. I am going to make her show me what I want...'' he paused, as his psychotic thoughts reached a crescendo. ''...even if it means deconstructing her.''


    Isolde whipped Wyrmbarb. However, she had only moved her hand to the back when Arthur suddenly disappeared amidst a column of lightning before reappearing by her side.


    The sword in his arm flipped over as he directed the hilt towards her.


    Isolde''s eyes widened as she saw him cover the distance faster than she could even react.


    Before she had the luxury to even think about dodging the attack, the hilt crashed into her side, making her rise above the ground and then she was hurtling like a ragdoll across the arena.


    Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled once again as Arthur arrived where she was about to make a touch down with the stadium''s floor and then raised his leg up in an axe kick.


    Suddenly Arthur''s senses flared and he cancelled the kick, taking a step to the side.


    At the same moment Lucian''s fist made contact with the place where Arthur was standing a second ago. The force of the punch punctured the ground, forming a meteor sized crater.


    Dust and debris flew everywhere, the shockwave of the blow causing the hats of people in the stands to blow away.


    Arthur''s head snapped towards where Michael was.


    The following instant a punch connected with Lucian''s jaw, causing his feet to lift a few centimetres above the ground. However, he twisted his body midair and kicked Michael, pushing him back.


    Lucian landed by Isolde''s side; his features composed as he stood in front of her. Peeking over his shoulder, he looked at his sister. "What''s wrong?"


    Isolde bit at her lip, frustration and embarrassment causing her face to go red. "¡­"


    Seeing his usually talkative and cocky sister being silent like this struck him as very odd. He looked at Arthur and then back at Isolde. "You were going to use your Arcane Arts. What happened?"


    "I¨C I was. But¨C" She struggled to talk back. Vexed, she stood up, dusting off her clothes as she did.


    "It''s a bad matchup, it is." Lucian looked back at Arthur and Michael who were standing side by side. "Both of them are close quarters combatants."


    He talked in a calm manner but a sharp, biting edge slowly crept up in his tone, his caring demeanour suddenly taking a sharp turn.


    "But that doesn''t change the fact that your performance as a mid-range fighter is rather¡­pitiable. If creating the necessary distance to use Wyrmbarb and your Arcane Art is proving itself to be too much of a challenge¡­well, the implications are quite clear, aren''t they, sister?"


    Isolde stood where she was, a rather conflicted look on her face. "Sorry¡­"


    Despite the changing demeanour and tones, Lucian''s face remained impassive. Unchanging.


    "Perhaps too much to ask." He looked at Michael. "Prepare your Arcane Art. I will try to hold them."


    "I will."


    "Don''t expect too much though." Lucian cracked his fingers. "That guy, Arthur¡­he''s nasty. Brace yourself."


    Isolde barely had a moment to process before Lucian blitzed towards Michael.


    Michael grinned as he lowered his stance. "Come at me. Let''s play a little!"


    He had next to no injuries. It was the same for Lucian, however, the impact of Michael''s blows had left Lucian''s bones in utter pain. Even now, as he maintained the icy cold fa?ade, his bones were screaming in an excruciating pain.


    And while he was surprised how a mere human could hold so much physical strength, he decided to not dwell on it for long.


    Just as Michael took a step forward and loaded his punch like a shotgun, Lucian suddenly decelerated and lowered, getting behind him. At the same time, he twisted his foot, changed directions and jumped into the air.


    Folding his leg, he directed his knee towards Arthur''s exposed back, who was standing straight, watching Isolde charge whatever she was doing.


    "Tsk." Michael clicked his tongue as the explosive momentum carried him forward.


    Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Slow."


    A bolt of lightning crashed from the sky and pinned Lucian to the ground. The small sparks spread all across his body, causing it to convulse.


    A sickly green aura exploded from him as he broke free of the monetary paralysis from Arthur''s spell.


    However, Arthur didn''t attack Lucian.


    He didn''t need to.


    Michael tackled Lucian as the two of them crashed into the nearby wall.


    "What a brute." Arthur exclaimed, shaking his head.


    Around him, the air crackled with a tangible touch of Arcanum.


    Disfigured hands extended from underneath the ground with spindly fingers that seemed to reach for Arthur hungrily.


    Beneath his feet, the ground yielded with a tremor, forming a small crater as he kicked it, breaking the bony arm before shooting towards Isolde.


    Her incantations fell on deaf ears as he ignored the swirling tendrils of sickly green, focused solely on closing the distance between them.


    Wyrmbarb whipped, forming loops to hold him and the javelin attempted to strike him again and again.


    Arthur ducked, swayed and parried, dodging the progressively increasing skeletal arms that continued to sprout from the ground that followed his every movement, never breaking his stride as he reached Isolde.


    He was just inches away from reach, yet, unlike before, she didn''t even flinch.


    Her lips moved, but instead of a smirk, this time she had a focused look on her face.


    ¨q©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨r


    Embrace, death''s call.


    Stir, souls of the night¡ªthe


    forgotten.


    Resurrect, O darkness.


    Rise, from the dead.


    ¨t©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨s


    Underneath the bright blue moonlight and the multiple lighting artefacts, a creature suddenly spawned, breaking the ground right in front of Isolde and casted a long, eerie shadow over Arthur.


    Arthur looked up, his eyes widening in mild surprise.


    It crawled out from the ground ¨C a visually revolting fusion of a bat, eagle and a wyrm.


    Its skin¡ªstretched taut over its skeletal frame¡ªwas a dull, sickly green mottled with patches of yellow, resembling festering wounds.


    Here and there, the skin was broken¡­rotting flesh that oozed a putrid, dark ichor.


    In some places, the decay was so advanced that bones were visible, jagged, bony edges poking through the tattered remains of muscle and sinew.


    A ridge of raised spines ran all over its long back, glistening in the dark with an oily sheen.


    Arthur couldn''t exactly think of a resemblance for the monstrosity that was in front of him. It felt like a blend of multiple creatures found on Earth.


    Even the ridges felt like a chimeric version of multiple birds¡­animals, as well. Some resembled the quills of a porcupine, while others are twisted and gnarled like the thorns of a blackened rose.


    The spines were pulsing with a green aura¡ªIsolde''s arcanum, giving it an eerie, almost lifelike appearance. If it wasn''t for the rotting flesh, it felt very alive. Despite the lack of eyes in its eye socket.


    Its head was avian with a long, hooked beak that seemed to be stained with blood.


    The feathers were matted and filthy, clinging to the beast''s form in clumps. Some were missing entirely, revealing patches of exposed bone and sinew beneath.


    Its vast and leathery wings stretched out from its sides, the membrane torn and tattered.


    It moved, shaking the ground, its movements a disjointed mimicry of life as Arthur flipped back and created some distance between him and the newly emerged creature.


    A thin trail of blood trickled down Isolde''s nose and a victorious grin found its way on her face.


    Wiping it with the sleeve of the hand that was holding Wyrmbarb, she raised her nose in a pompous manner.


    However, instead of the reaction she was seeking, she stumbled on something entirely else.


    Arthur''s eyes were lit up and he had a slightly amused look on his face as he observed the Arcanum leak from Isolde to the creature.


    "Now this is what I am talking about." He mumbled underneath his breath.


    There would be painless respite. But¡­not for her.

 55: A Vain Burden

    Rolling away from harm, I narrowly dodged the half-rotten form of the ginormous monster as it tried to land on me with its full weight.


    And despite the fact that I had dodged, the shockwave sent me an extra few yards away. Flipping my body midair and using a little bit of Arcanum, I repositioned myself just in time and as I skidded backwards before coming to a halt.


    As I looked ahead; I saw that the ground where the monster had landed was not faring so well.


    It buckled and cracked under the monstrous weight, leaving a deep, jagged crater.


    Fat chunks of earth were flung in all directions, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the ground, rippling outwards like a stone dropped into a pond.


    Dust and debris billowed up in a choking cloud, and the air filled with the acrid smell of freshly shattered rock and dirt.


    The ear-splitting roar followed right after, causing a cold chill in my bones and an overwhelmingly giddy sensation of fighting against Isolde''s Arcane Art.


    It was still powering it, her Arcanum¡ªslowly, but surely¡ªtrickling from the primary node and into her¡­''summoned corpse'', for the lack of better words.


    But the weight of this monster was no joke.


    I shuddered at the thought that if it had landed on me with its full weight, it was likely to exert a force close to 4,400 pounds per square inch.


    My bones would have shattered like brittle twigs, organs crushed, flattened into unrecognisable mush, skin and muscles torn apart, and reduced to a bloody, mangled heap¡ªan unrecognisable mess of flesh and bone fragments.


    Exciting!


    I tightened my grip on the hilt of the modestly made sword, the blade humming with the subtly electromagnetic energy that I continued to slowly channel into it.


    I got into a long-point stance as I planted my legs firmly in a wide stance, knees slightly bent for balance. My sword extended in front of me, blade angled slightly upward.


    Gripping the hilt with both hands, I squared my shoulders, keeping my back straight.


    Subtle sparks crackled along its edge, casting a flickering glow that illuminated the rotting form.


    Its ''supposed'' majestic feathers were now tattered and matted with blood and decay; the jagged beak eager to taste my flesh.


    Isolde was out of breath behind it, her eyes glinting with malice.


    On the other side, Lucian and Michael were in a deadlock. It didn''t seem like they were progressing.


    That''s what appeared on the surface. But since Michael and Lucian had the same amount of Arcanum, it was hard to tell who was holding back. Because there was a clear difference in physical abilities.


    However, it was hard to discern since this mindless monster was trying to eat me up in one bite!


    Surely this can''t be allowed.


    ''¡­''


    Well, who am I kidding? I am actually enjoying it.


    It was very, very refreshing to see other Arcane Arts. Discerning its mechanics and then dismantling it.


    As I was partaking in the usual indulgence of talking to myself, like an uninvited guest, the giant monster launched itself at me, moving with a speed that stupefied me for a fleeting moment.


    A decayed corpse, reanimated, fuelled by Isolde''s Arcanum ¨C I was not expecting it to move so fast.


    Its talons slashed through the air. The air whistled around.


    Caught off-guard, I barely managed to leap to the side, feeling the rush of wind as the claws missed me by mere inches.


    This force behind each swing was almost equal to that of a hydraulic press.


    If it could exert this much force after dying, I could only wonder how strong it was when it was alive.


    I am not aware how necromancy works in a way that does it require the summoner to kill the object of summon themselves or can they summon any dead creature?


    If every person has the same conditions applied on them, then it means she could have just added this to her arsenal just by hoarding someone else''s kill. Like how Jayden had done with the Wujins.


    Getting tangled into my own thoughts; I shook them away as my fingers made a subtle sound against the rough leather and my eyes narrowed.


    I focused, summoning more lightning into my blade and beneath my feet as it exploded and carried me towards the creature in a sudden burst of energy right before I swung at it.


    I was expecting a shriek of pain but all I heard was silence, save for the hissing sound of the electrified blade cutting through its rotting flesh ¨C sparks and bits of flesh flying and smoke rising from the wound.


    Without taking the moments of rest a living creature would take due to the necessities and pangs of flesh; it spun around.


    "GraveHawk! Use Frenzy Beak!" Isolde cried out from behind, much more stabilised than before.


    What the Pok¨¦mon¡­?


    It suddenly opened its wings, the tattered membranes giving way to the streaks of moon protruding through it as it closed its giant mouth and directed it towards me.


    Arcanum covered its wings like a well-fitting glove and then flapped it once, bursting in my direction.


    Time ¨C my perception stretched like gum as its beak aimed for my throat.


    I took a deep breath.


    Bringing my sword up and bracing with my entire body, I blocked it. Or at least tried to.


    The clash between my sword and its beak resulted in a frenzy of sparks, followed by a shockwave that rattled my bones.


    Sensing this as an appropriate opportunity, Isolde whipped Wyrmbarb.


    The weapon streaked through the air; javelin aimed straight for my heart.


    Seeing it out of the corner of my eye, I redirected some magnetic waves to my left hand that diverted the javelin''s path just enough for it to miss me.


    The rope-javelin thudded into the ground.


    "Ferrum Field."


    I chanted underneath my breath as giant chunks of boulders started to attach themselves to the javelin of Isolde''s Wyrmbarb, making it almost impossible for her to lift it up and attack¡­or even defend herself.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Seeing this, I seized the opportunity by charging at Isolde.


    However, before I could even reach her, the gravehawk interposed itself, talons slashing down like an axe kick, with the exception of the fact that it had giant daggers for nails.


    Skidding to a halt, I raised my sword just in time to block the attack. The force of the blow drove me to one knee, the ground cracking beneath me.


    "Do it!" She barked orders from behind as the force doubled.


    The gravehawk screeched and flapped its wings, sending a gust of foul-smelling wind that forced me to take a step back.


    She is strong. But¡­


    My muscles tensed as I pushed back, surging back to my feet, throwing the gravehawk off balance.


    Lightning spilled out of me like a net and then arched inwards, towards my sword as it bent through the air. The blade bit deep into the Gravehawk''s side.


    It opened its mouth and this time an ear-splitting shriek echoed throughout the stadium.


    ¡­not as strong as I had thought her to be. What a waste of time.


    In a fit of fury, the Gravehawk took to the air, its tattered wings beating furiously as it circled above.


    It felt like a desperate attempt.


    Humans were no different than animals, or monsters. If someone told me the story of this fight by substituting Gravehawk with a human, I would have totally believed it.


    Standing underneath it, I watched, sword at the ready.


    Isolde was just in range, but I waited. There was still something she was holding back. She had a strained look on her face, but even if I defeated her right now, it wouldn''t give me the exact satisfaction of what I had been craving for.


    An intrinsic sensation.


    Like a voice¡­a very smooth, and calming voice, different from my mother''s, whispering.


    ''Crush your enemies and then¡­''


    The voice whispered as my lips moved, talking out loud, completing the sentence.


    "¡­show them they never stood a chance."


    Green aura built up from the base of its neck, charging and charging until¡­its maw opened and the entire stadium started to rupture.


    The gravehawk was emitting a series of high-frequency sounds¡ªlike a whole tsunami of extremely high frequency sound waves.


    People started to cover their ears, some falling, some slumping into their seats.


    A few yards away, both Michael and Lucian dipped to both knees, hands on ears despite the dense layer of Arcanum covering them.


    The noise seemed to be excruciating. And bone jarring.


    Sound waves¡ªwhich are usually characterised by their frequency and amplitude¡ªpropagate as mechanical waves through a medium such as air, water, or solids.


    High-frequency sound waves, typically in the ultrasonic range above 20 kHz, surpass the upper limit of human hearing.


    But the effects are very disastrous. Since extremely high frequency ones can not only cause eardrums to rupture but also tissue breakage.


    Since the nature of sound waves is inherently mechanical, involving the oscillation of particles in the medium through which they travel which, in extension, creates regions of compression and rarefaction.


    Perhaps it was the combined effect of everyone collapsing, or almost everyone, that Isolde thought the same had been happening to me.


    She grinned and retrieved Wyrmbarb before advancing.


    At the same time, the Gravehawk dove, talons extended.


    Without batting an eye towards the mindless creature and keeping my eyes locked with Isolde, I raised the sword and sent a giant bolt of lightning arcing towards the Gravehawk. The bolt struck the creature mid-flight, causing it to convulse and screech in agony.


    Its gargantuan body rolled like a ragdoll through the air, akin to a bird struck with a stone from a slingshot as it fell right where Lucian and Michael were, still recovering from the sonic attack from Gravehawk.


    "Was that all?" I cocked my head as she was still midair, the lasso about to twirl around and capture me.


    She tried to change directions mid-air; however, lightning scooped my entire form from there and then I was right beside her.


    Focusing a modest amount of lightning into my fist, I looked at her one last time. "Well, goodnight."


    The sword slipped from my grip, hitting the ground with a clang.


    In a split-second, I channelled lightning into my fist and punched her sternum, just an inch below her heavy bosom.


    The world seemed to slow as lightning coiled around my arm, crackling building up, surging like a tempest, and then it erupted.


    From my fist, a giant dragon''s head, forged from pure lightning, busted forward and swallowed Isolde whole, its jaws opening wide as it lifted her off her feet as if she weighed nothing more than a speck of dust.


    Across the stadium, I saw the oldest brother¡ªNacht Cromwell¡ªsitting with an expression that was a complicated alchemy of excitement and fear.


    Isolde''s expression of shock and pain in the few fractions of a second was seared into my memory as the dragon hurled her across the stadium with a seemingly unstoppable force.


    Her body crashed into the distant wall with a rattling boom, the impact shaking the entire stadium.


    As she tried to hold the dragon''s maw from pummelling her further back by placing her hands on its upper and lower jaw, it suddenly snapped shut around her, and in an instant, the wall exploded into a maelstrom of controlled destruction.


    Fragments of stone, metal and precious rock which decorated the wall with the family emblem were all pulverised, and the stands along the wall were obliterated, leaving nothing but pure wreckage.


    A hurricane of smoke, dust, and debris rose, swirling violently.


    Lightning danced within this cloud of debris, illuminating the wreckage with occasional blinding flashes.


    The air became thick with the smell of ozone and charred remnants, and the sound of crackling electricity filled the void that was created by the dead silence of the stadium.


    The dust settled to reveal Isolde, squashed against the wall like a bug. A single streak of red was flowing from the side of her mouth and her eyes had already rolled back to the back of her head.


    To my side, I felt the gravehawk body turn ethereal and then slowly drift away.


    Like grains of sand running between fingers, the summoned beast''s body slowly turned into small, barely perceptible motes of Arcanum, glowing in a dull, lifeless shade of green before drifting towards Isolde and merging back with her.


    Her chest heaved up as she suddenly breathed a long one, and then slumped down contently against what remained of the wall.


    Looking to my side, I saw both Lucian and Michael on the ground. They were conscious, but both of their knees were touching the ground. They were looking at each other with wide eyes, full of disbelief.


    One would''ve expected a kiss scene if this was a movie with ''enemies turned friends,'' as a base theme.


    Like me and Michael.


    I meant the ''enemies turned friends'' part, not the other way. Why would I think about the other one?!


    Why am I even defending myself?


    In a monologue that is!?


    I should stop thinking. It is not very pleasing considering what I think. I can understand if others don''t want to talk to me. I sound really annoying¡­and obnoxious.


    It was only when the voice amplifying artefact suddenly buzzed with a moment of static did I notice that there was still silence lingering in the air.


    "Hm?"


    As I looked around, I saw the demons looking at me with wide eyes. As if they had seen an apparition.


    A ghost.


    "Y-YOUNG MASTER LUCIAN AND MICHAEL WHITE ARE BOTH DOWN! THE FIGHT HAS ENDED IN A TIE!"


    The first announcement came right after I stared at the announcer followed by Michael''s trademark¡­uhh, words.


    "MOTHERFUCKER! YOU DROPPED THAT ON US! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU GLOOMY FART, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    Not only was he close to ripping his own hair out but I feared that the young master Lucian would lose his hearing ability as well.


    Lucian had a rather stern look on his face. Although I''d argue that it was not because Michael had the temperament of a high-schooler but because he didn''t like the outcome as well. But he was doing well holding it back.


    The announcer tapped the mic once again, as if trying to get everyone''s attention. However, he talked in a meek tone. Like if saying what he was going to say after this was going to get him killed.


    "YOUNG LADY I-ISOLDE HAS BEEN DE-DEFEATED BY arthur olvasen¡­."


    Hey, come on. Don''t be like that. There was no need to muffle out my name. It''s not like the stands are filled with blind people.


    I looked around.


    No one was talking. No one was cheering.


    Naturally, but still, it felt oddly mortifying.


    "BOOOOOO!" Michael did a thumb-down before walking away from Lucian who also stood up and slipped his hands into his pocket.


    Well, having one hater is better than having no one care about you, at all.


    After all, hate takes a lot of passion. I am not sure if anyone else would expend such a strong emotion on me.


    As I watched Lucian walk over to Isolde, cast a glance at her and then look away in disgust, I heard a clap.


    From over my shoulder, right behind me, in the far distance, was the singular source of clapping.


    It wasn''t from Aksel. Nor was it from Jayden.


    But someone entirely else.


    The silver haired girl dressed in her formal clothes was clapping as hard as she could, hands above her head and a huge smile on her face.


    A shadow of a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, but I smothered it.


    Never again.


    I reminded myself.


    The wounds inflicted on a heart are beyond healing, especially when the source of the pain has faded from memory.


    Even when she jumped from the fence and ran awkwardly, fidgeting with her long dress while struggling to run straight, I stood there.


    "Keh! If golden retrievers had a human form, she''d be one!" Michael grumbled, placing his arm over my shoulder.


    Sentiment is a vain burden, attachments¡­chains. Existing, but forgotten warmth teaches you that.


    But it seemed that much like things I had no control over, I keep forgetting things I do have control over.


    I soon found out this much:¡ªsadness, anger, euphoria and¡­ most of all, terror can be endured so long as a man simply ducks;¡ªbut it kills, if a man thinks about it.


    "Right¡­" I breathed out as the two of us started walking back, doing our best to ignore the rising bloodlust from the countless demon nobles sitting in the stands¡­


    "I still haven''t forgotten how you made me lose, you damned fucker. Kill yourself!"


    ¡­and Michael''s ooga booga.

 56: A Sauntering Calamity

    Isolde Cromwell POV:


    "Weakness is unacceptable."


    I can feel a breeze.


    Cool and almost soothing, ghosting across my skin.


    Slithering over the slight burn I felt in my right underboob.


    It''s strange how I can sense it without really feeling it.


    It sounds even more strange when I think about this notion out loud.


    It feels like a distant memory playing out in the back of my mind.


    I try to focus, to latch onto something real, something tangible, but all I find are fragments of thoughts and emotions swirling chaotically around¡­no, within me.


    "Only the strong survive. Only the strong matter."


    The world around me feels heavy and muted, as though I''m submerged in a deep, endless ocean, drifting away into a trench.


    The cool breeze brushes against my skin, once again, eerily detached.


    And then, like a blade''s tip digging deep into my skin, I feel something graze me, tearing the serene, dream-like hazy surroundings into oblivion, along with the little respite I had somehow accumulated.


    I felt a subtle, burning sensation beneath my right breast. Again.


    Then it flashed.


    Snippets. Of my life.


    Flashing, like hundreds of Manaflies.


    A warm wave hit me like a goliath into my side, underneath my right breast.


    But the steady stream of memories had rendered me numb to constant, persisting pain.


    A happy childhood.


    ...happy?


    I can feel my brows furrow as I touch them.


    When?


    How?


    Has the hundreds of years of my life really rendered me unable to recall such a major detail?


    I pondered over it.


    Pondered for seconds that flowed like the streams of Valemount, mixing in with others to form what felt ¨C seemed like a river of past minutes¡­hours even, of constant thought.


    "True strength above everything. Realise what it is."


    The words felt distant. Lacking any real empathy.


    But it''s true. And sincere.


    That is when I realised.


    It was him. My father- after all. The sole dictator of who''s whims I had directed my life to.


    I can''t recall a time when his words didn''t dominate my thoughts, shaping my every action and decision.


    Shaping me.


    Even as a child, the memory of which is nothing more than a bittersweet longing, I was acutely aware of his scrutiny, his relentless push to mould us into paragons of strength and excellence. And everything superior.


    Each successful step I took increased my exposure to the glaring light of his judgement.


    My eyes suddenly trailed along a giant drop of rain that had suddenly started pouring, suspended in mid-air as I stared at it.


    It was playing something. Like a memory recorder.


    A knowing, bitter smile formed on my face.


    My brothers¡ªbig brother Nacht and Lucian¡ªand I¡­there was a time when we were inseparable.


    We laughed together, shared secrets underneath the stars that lined the perpetually night-stricken sky of Lawold like a million glimmerstones, each other more beautiful than the other.


    We dreamt of grand adventures.


    We were inseparable.


    Ready to face the world together.


    But¡­


    ¡­after around 200 years of being born we realised.


    Not everything is as convenient as we make it out to be.


    Big brother Nacht was the first. Although the effect was subtle, it was there. But the most violent change occurred in Lucian¡­


    A meritocratic method of treatment between siblings.


    The shift was gradual, almost imperceptible at first.


    Little comments, subtle comparisons.


    Father would praise one of us for a particular achievement, a rare moment of approval that we all craved like starved Wujins.


    But it came with an unspoken message: the rest of us were lacking.


    A subtle hint of disappointment for the underperformers, avoiding looking us into the eye, not talking to them.


    Mom followed suit.


    It didn''t take long for those moments of pure joy to be flipped on their heads and were replaced by a quiet, pervasive tension.


    All I had wanted was to live a loving life with my family.


    I remembered. This was when I became so competitive.


    Father''s favouritism was never hidden, never softened by parental love.


    Being the little kids we were, we fell after it as he made it clear that only the strong, the best, deserved his attention.


    Desperate to outshine the other, we transitioned from siblings who were inseparable, to rivals. Enemies, even.


    I remember the first time I truly felt the sting of his pure, sheer disappointment.


    I had worked tirelessly on a resurrection spell, pouring my heart and soul into it.


    I thought, for once, I might have done enough to earn his approval.


    But my best effort had only elicited a glance before he dismissed it with a curt. ''Lucian did it better.''


    That moment had shattered something inside me.


    The realisation that no matter how hard I tried, it would never be enough.


    His approval was a mirage, always just out of reach, taunting me. Endlessly.


    It was then that I started to measure my worth via his reactions, to see myself through the harsh lens of his expectations.


    The distance between my brothers and me grew with each passing day. And while big brother Nacht moved to Central Academy in Gehenna, Lucian turned into someone we couldn''t recognise anymore.


    Further away from us, and closer and closer¡­to father.


    He had the perfect talent.


    And the slowly burning jealousy tinged every interaction with a quiet, unspoken competition.


    The drop fell, and I turned around, seeing another droplet of rain. It had some other memories.


    My mind drifted to where I was. Why I was here.


    The dull ache below my right bust spiked suddenly and then died down, like a reindeer breathing its last few breaths before suddenly springing to life, taking a few desperate steps and then collapsing again.


    Another memory flashed.


    Nights. Spent lying awake.


    Father''s words replaying in my mind.


    Over and over and over and over again.


    Trying to figure out where I had gone wrong.


    His validation became a gnawing hunger, like a constant itch that begs you to scratch it, driving me down a spiral of such general complacency that I don''t even remember anything other than my training.


    Sacrificed friendships, joy¡­even sense of self.


    All in the pursuit of an ideal that seemed always just beyond my grasp.


    Why?


    Why something so meaningless?


    Was a nod of acknowledgment, a brief flicker of something like pride in his eyes really worth it?


    Maybe it was.


    Maybe¡­deep inside me, it still is.


    But¡­


    ¡­why am I having such thoughts? I never even had the notion of such thoughts¡­


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    There was a dull pain in my right under bust, once again.


    This time there was a deep-rooted clarity to the pain. As I touched it, I felt my skin that had slightly caved in and azure lightning was coursing all along the wide gash.


    The breeze shifted once more.


    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to find some measure of calm in this turbulent sea of my head.


    I understood in a moment of sudden sobriety.


    Why was I questioning everything.


    That human¡­Arthur Olvasen.


    The cause of this irritating itch¡­pain in my side.


    When I first entered the throne room, it was not much hard to guess why the human- Aksel Olvasen was sitting right next to my dad, the King of the entire Central Dominion.


    The suffocating aura that the man emanated was enough to make us understand at a glance why or how we arrived in a situation where humans suddenly became highly revered guests.


    And it wasn''t something that bothered me much.


    Despite seeing how this whole interaction with a human of all things was bringing him joy more than our progress ever did, I still felt good.


    I had not seen him this ecstatic¡­happy in so long.


    And when the first time the human royalty took the first step into the room, it was nothing short of¡­insignificant. Even though I had not arrived into the main dining section of the throne room, I could still feel it.


    How minute and pathetic their reserves of arcanum were.


    Yet father asked us to spar¡­have a mock duel with each other.


    It was beneath us.


    I didn''t understand why he would say this.


    Was his evaluation of our abilities so low that he considered us losing or us being so weak that we had to battle humans in a mock battle?


    I had heard from dad about humans, and how ancient humans were strong, but this¡­boy- both of them, had nothing significant about them.


    The one with white hair had a considerable higher amount but it was nothing outlandish.


    Ordinary.


    So ordinary that it was disgusting. Revolting.


    I had carried this feeling out from the moment I had landed my eyes on the murky-golden haired boy to our spar as well.


    He had a dull look on his face, both at the banquet and on the field as well. A boring look, that made looking at him even more revolting. To a degree that I felt the disgust creep up to my face.


    But¡­


    ¡­why was it that Lucian told me off.


    Did he realise it back then?


    Has the chasm of difference in our abilities grown so wide that he could tell the real difference between our abilities from just a glance?


    It makes a sour sensation settle in the back of my throat, however, at that time, all I felt was anger and frustration.


    At the fact that not only Lucian was acting that way, but even father announced¡ªannounced in front of hundreds of people to Arthur that he should take it easy on me¡­!


    It felt odd. At first, that is. Why would he say such things? To ridicule me?


    I wondered at first, making me hesitate. That was why I ended up wanting a battle that involved Arcane Art, so I could show my father¡­show him that I was not a disappointment.


    And had it not been the utter lack of presence from Arthur, I would have given it my all right from the start.


    But I was wrong.


    Wrong about almost everything. And admitting it felt like swallowing Naga''s elixir.


    It was only after half of our battle had commenced was when I realised¡­


    ¡­he was holding back. A lot.


    It was not like he wasn''t struggling. But instead, it was something more akin to him being curious to everything I was doing.


    The lifeless grey voids that looked at everything with utter lack of interest or joy, were lit up. Like candles in the dead dark of the night. For a moment it was¡­gladdening.


    Just¡­just for a fleeting moment, it made me feel like I was actually doing something right with my life. That perhaps, all this time I had devoted to my own growth had not been wasted.


    Even as we fought more and more, bringing my frustration to a boiling point, I couldn''t help but wonder. How could he not break a sweat¡­when his arcanum reserves are so pathetic.


    Was it purely physical ability?


    No- it was¡­I can''t tell properly, but it wasn''t just being physically gifted. There is something more. Something more¡­concealed.


    Concealed beneath that unbreakable layer of composure.


    And just when I thought I was finally pushing him into a corner, I saw his eyes that were shining with interest, turn dull again, losing the otherworldly¡­enchanting lustre.


    The next few moments passed by in a blur. Gravehawk''s middle section was pierced and vapourized by an attack so bright that I am sure it would have put the sunlit cities in the rest of Eden to shame.


    And then I was flying. Trapped in the maw of a dragon made out of pure azure lightning.


    The wound in my side festered once again and a hot jolt went down my spine.


    I can still feel the electrifying breath of the¡­attack. Like it had a life of its own. Alive, and breathing.


    As the memory replayed its final segments, the rain around me came to a sudden halt and I was once again in the dark, floating.


    After a few moments, I felt ground, solidifying underneath my feet but unseeable by the naked eye.


    And then, like a small hole giving way to a thin streak of light inside a box, I saw a needle-thin golden column of light illuminate the sepulchral ambiance of my surroundings.


    The sight in front of my eyes twisted, like a towel being wrung to get rid of excess water and I felt something pull at me.


    The column of golden light widened, and widened, until nothing in my vision was left out.


    My chest felt tight and with a sudden, painful gasp, I felt my eyes ¨C which I thought were open already ¨C open once again.


    A very familiar infirmary ceiling greeted me, bleak and simple in design.


    My body felt alright, but my side was still burning with a rather intense pain.


    I was thinking of moving¡­to remove the weight of the sweat drenched sheets from over me, when I heard a voice.


    "Oh, you''re awake."


    The voice was not something I had heard a lot, but I could recognise it even without turning my head in the direction of the voice.


    "I won''t recommend sitting up, due to obvious reasons."


    His lips moved slowly, and the way he talked was irritatingly slow¡­calm.


    Crouching down, he placed a single blue-tinged black flower on the stool in front of the bed I was laying on and then bowed down in a slightly sardonic manner.


    "See you tomorrow, princess. Get well soon."


    As he turned, the muddled golden hair swished in tandem while his eyes stayed fixed on me until his head was totally turned away.


    ¡­


    What in Hades'' name was that¡­?


    An odd feeling of revulsion and something else filled my chest.


    I thought it would be different, but he just mocked me.


    Me¡­!


    There was no doubt about it. However, even I was able to understand just this much¡­


    As I saw his back become smaller and smaller while he walked down the long hall visible from the side of the door, I realised it.


    ¡­he was not an ordinary human. He was a breathing, sauntering calamity. Even more so than his own father. There was a raw ferociousness to him.


    I cannot discern my father''s intentions completely, but I can at least tell it surely has something related to him.


    Arthur Olvasen.


    I felt my chest tighten once again.


    Is this what envy feels like?


    -----


    Jayden Cromwell POV:


    The encroaching twilight signalled the impending arrival of night.


    A soft, unintentional chuckle escaped my lips as I reflected on my recent contemplation.


    It may seem peculiar to express it thus, considering that Lawold is perpetually shrouded in darkness, never graced by the light of day¡ª of the sun.


    An unending night.


    Not in the common philosophical musings of peasants, filled with gloom and nostalgic tales of days gone by, but a straightforward, literal darkness that accompanies the night.


    The only variation the passage of day brings is the shifting shades of black, which now serve as our sole indicators of day and night in Lawold.


    The fight between Lucian and Isolde versus Michael and Arthur was grandly eventful, and fruitful, to say the very least.


    As expected, Lucian is indeed born with the highest potential our family has ever seen ¨C be it the usage of our Arcane Arts, or physical abilities.


    He is still considerably weaker than Nacht, but that doesn''t matter. The disparity in abilities caused by the difference in age stays as limiting factors for a few fleeting years, after which they can surpass these temporary constraints and render such comparisons moot.


    Good. Very good.


    He has a good head over his shoulders as well. A sound mind and a talent for cultivating your own innate talent is the key to true strength.


    The somewhat satisfactory feeling lodged like a bitter ball of gehenblut(1) in the back of my throat.


    The cause of this was self-explanatory. My youngest¡ªIsolde.


    It would seem like she has yet to understand the glaringly obvious fact that the gifts she had received as just being the part of the lineage would only take her so far. The definition of true strength still seems so- so out of reach for her comprehension.


    Just enough to make me lose most, if not all hope.


    "You have seen what you needed to." My new friend, Aksel''s voice was calm and heavy behind me as he indulged in our local delicacy ¨C Glyphic Bloom Brew.


    It was a rare beverage made from one of the rarest flowers that only bloomed in the deepest caves of Gehenna, which was where our Lord, the true ruler of our realm resided.


    As he smacked his lips, I felt my forehead crease, as if tangibly pushing the thoughts up and stopping it from weighing down on my eyes.


    "Indeed, my friend." I replied, breaking out of my ''furrowed introspection'' ¨C for the lack of simpler terms. "We both have. And I think it was marvellous. In any aspect that might be of concern, to the observer that is."


    His lips perked up as he smacked them. The beverage was quite strong as it fed on a person''s arcanum. The higher one''s reserves were, the more ecstasy they would get from it. But Aksel seemed far from drunk- or lost in a self-absorbed state of blissful euphoria.


    "So? Are we going ahead with my proposition?" He asked, then smiled from the slight opening as he raised the cup.


    "Are you sure your wife will be okay with this?" I asked, raising a brow at him. It was fascinating to hear about her. But the more he talked about her, the more of cold sweat I could feel rolling down my back. Undoubtedly, Aksel was strong, but to think he has a superior who has an ironclad grip on his decisions.


    Without waiting for a reply, I blithely continued. "As you said, she is unaware of the¡­proposition,¡ªas you put it¡ªthat you have presented to me. I am sure such decisions would¨C"


    He silenced me with a pretentious wave of his finger and then looked at the glowing cobalt blue liquid swivelling around the surface of the glass, leaving a glittery trail behind before receding like shore waves back into the main drink.


    "She would not care about anything." He inferred with a twirl of his finger in the air. "As long as it has nothing to do with Arthur-"


    "But this has exactly everything to do with him." I obtruded.


    "Haste makes waste, is what they say on Earth." Aksel gave a sideway nod to his head and then looked at me, his tongue rolling beneath his upper lip. "She would not mind as long as Arthur is safe¡­and available to her."


    "And you think this agreement between us would mitigate the opposite scenario?" I scoffed through my nose before looking out of the window once more. "This is ridiculous."


    "On the contrary ¨C to your expectations ¨C yes, I think it will." The sound of the glass'' base touching the table filled the air as he stood up. Walking over in my direction, he stopped and then looked out of the window, following my own line-of-sight before letting out a sigh.


    "She is aware of Arthur''s disposition. I don''t think she will ever consider something of this nature to¡­hmm, let''s say distract him." He continued talking, a spark running through his pale olive irises.


    "Sif needs Arthur for her own¡­agendas, yes, let''s call them agendas. And while I do not see my son as an object to be used to for my personal goals, sometimes little sacrifices are necessary." He paused and then laughed heartily to himself. "Although there isn''t much to lose here. He has a gain in this as well."


    What did he mean by that?


    "I cannot imagine someone as talented as him could benefit from this. In any shape or form." I said my own piece of mind. "A dull woman only delays how fast the man can draw his sword."


    As I said, Aksel let out a shaky breath.


    "That extra¡­strenuous weight is what he needs to nurture." He glanced at me for a moment and then looked back at the serene stillness of the sea whose beauty was accentuated by the beautiful blue moon. "What do you think makes Arthur special? As you might have seen, it''s not his explosive strength. As a matter of fact, he lacks it."


    I paused and pondered. And then the right words flew right into my mind. It was something I had expected of my children, time and time again, but all of them failed to deliver. "An intrinsic adeptness for assimilating with anything."


    He raised a brow with a proud look. "Yes. Just like a¡ª"


    "¡ªA blade in forgery." I completed his sentence as he nodded and then looked out again.


    "We both benefit from our¡­conducive arrangements."


    Breathing out in utter tiredness, I blinked a few times. "We do. Things won''t be hard on my side; however, it will be very messy on yours."


    "You are confident about it?"


    I huffed through my nose, once again. "Of course. And despite that¡­" I paused as the moon''s light got stronger¡­or was it the night that got darker?


    "¡­the weak people''s opinions are like the background noise in what commoners call a "fair". So, you don''t have to worry about it."


    "Hmm." Aksel hummed and then shrugged. "I guess, on my side, it''s more likely attributed to his lack of interest towards this. I am telling you right now, he would be unfazed to the decision."


    "That makes our life easier. And would help me as well¡­in getting rid of useless junk that is."


    He stayed silent and didn''t say anything. Silence lingered for a moment.


    Taking one last look at the moon''s light, I straightened out my back and clapped my hands. The doors opened and 6 demonesses walked in. All of them were wearing short net smocks that reached until half of their thighs. The net fabric gave way to their bare bodies on the inside. Their hair was let loose and their eyes were milky¡­dreamy.


    As I walked towards the exit door, I looked over my shoulder at Aksel who was standing there, half-plastered and half-dumbfounded.


    "Enjoy the night, dear friend. The merger shall give very little leeway following this night." Finishing with a wink, I motioned for the doors to close as the demonesses started to strip. "Make it count."


    As the double doors were pulled shut by the guards, I inserted a hand into my pocket and looked up at the ceiling. What I was doing was right. It always has been.


    "One less piece of junk to worry about."


    The words rolled off my tongue with an odd sense of relief. Like a burden had been taken off my shoulders that had been weighing down on it for a hundred years.


    Now there''s only one thing to worry about.


    High Sovereign Brimstone''s approval. Lord Morningstar himself.


    <blockquote>


    -----------------


    1) Gehenblut is a very bitter plant nectar that''s fed to prisoners in Gehenna. One of the worst punishments in the afterlife in the Islamic Religion (the key source/inspiration).


    </blockquote>

 57: Radical Sequence of Events

    "Urgh¡­" A parched groan escaped my lips as I squinted my eyes further, the bright red static in front of my eyes disrupting the already rattled sleep of mine.


    The light seared through my eyelids, sending sharp waves of pain into my already throbbing head. I shifted slightly on the lumpy couch, the annoyingly silky fabric scratching against my cheek which only added to my progressively increasing discomfort.


    Letting out a slow breath, I sighed and placed my arm over my eyes. The annoying red transitioned into a much more soothing, cold black static.


    "Uff-" I groaned once again.


    My back was screaming. A deep, aching pain spread from my lower spine up to my shoulders. The couch, with its weird backward orientation was certainly a very poor substitute for a bed.


    With another tired exhale, I removed my arm and opened my eyes abruptly.


    The artificial light flooded back in, momentarily blinding me before my vision adjusted. My surroundings slowly came into focus: the cluttered room, strewn with empty bottles and¡­discarded clothing.


    Hmm. Wait¡­what? Clothes¡­?


    The stale scent of alcohol, sweat and¡­something else ¨C heavy in odour ¨C lingered in the air. It smelt very much like chlorine. Or bleach¡­


    I glanced over at the closed bedroom door, and rubbed my eyes. As the fog was completely lifted, I took a look around and saw what was all this about. And then, in a moment of sudden sobriety, I recalled ''a few'' sounds that had filtered through my dormant, sleeping state.


    The scattered- almost torn effeminate clothes on the ground seemed to check out with my hypothesis.


    Michael ¨C as expected ¨C had indulged in ''not-so-holy'' entertainment all night long with a harem of demonesses. I shivered involuntarily, the recollection of the noises making my skin crawl. Thankfully, I had drunk more Glyphic Bloom Brew than I would admit.


    I am not sure why Jayden arranged such¡­things for us, who were children, but I suppose this is what people call ''cultural shock.'' One thing, however, was interesting. I have not seen anyone have the same look in their¡ªthe demon escorts¡ªeyes ever since we arrived in this castle in Lawold. Last time I saw that dreamy look was in the Wyrms'' eyes.


    Hmm. I think I might be thinking too deep into it.


    A soft moan shook my insides as I jerked my head to the side. A woman was laying upside down ¨C her legs on the bed and lower body flung downwards. Two small, pebble sized stumps protruded out of her forehead.


    On the bed, Michael was sleeping naked with a giant blanket covering only his crotch while 3 different demon girls¡ªor women were scattered all around him, their bare bodies bruised and full of¡­marks of activity.


    He is...strange. Any sort of understanding or mild goodwill I had built for him suddenly slipped away.


    A thought suddenly crossed my mind. Did Jayden perhaps offer Astrid the same¡­entertainment as us? Hmm¡­


    That sounds unpalatable to me. I hope he didn''t.


    I had been offered the same thing but I had immediately opted to crash on the couch to seek refuge from this madness. However, I am still curious about another thing as well. A rather simple question.


    Why?


    I mean why, as in¡­why?


    What is the purpose behind everything that has transpired until now. Everything that has led us to this point feels like a mindless script from a child tasked with the idea of story-making. The only thing that can justify this bizarre turn of events ¨C right from Jayden and Aksel stopping their fight until our spar against Jayden''s children ¨C is the hypothetical hidden arrangement between the two.


    Forget theory, it can be classified as ¨C in scientific terms ¨C as a theory. If they are acting this well without an arrangement, then it just means I have gone astray as to what the societal norms are. Because from a logical perspective, this radical sequence of events should not have happened in the first place.


    From the way I had envisioned it, mother''s obsession with me would have forced Aksel to come here to save the world by not letting her out in the open, and during the rescue he would either die or get mortally injured while defeating Jayden; whereas me, Astrid and Michael would''ve handled Ed easily.


    Groaning again, I tried to straighten up, wincing as the movement sent a jolt of pain through my stiff, sore muscles. My head was pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat, mercilessly reminding me of my overindulgence. I rubbed my temples, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure, but it was futile.


    I wonder if Michael will die if I make him drink as much as I did. Maybe I should force this scum of the Earth¡ªno, scum of two worlds drink as much as me.


    "Fuff¡­" A self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Quite ironic of me to judge others based on morality. Well, I suppose I am self-aware. I think¡­


    The last thing I wanted was to wake Michael or his demonic escorts. The thought of facing his knowing smirk and teasing comments made my stomach churn.


    Hence, I stood up and started moving slowly and deliberately. I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and planted my feet on the warm, soft flooring. A sharp stab of pain where Ed had slashed me shot up my spine, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it.


    The symbiote infesting my wound was gone, but there was still a small scar left which burnt every now and then. It is getting better every day, but sometimes you just wish you never had supernatural senses which could detect the slightest discrepancy in the usual ''normal functioning '' of the body.


    The dim blue moonlight ¨C most likely signalling that it was day now ¨C filtered through the curtains and highlighted the occasional dust motes floating in the air, giving the room an almost ethereal quality¡­obviously, if you could ignore the musty odour.


    I skirted around the scattered debris, avoiding the telltale signs of the previous night''s debauchery. The closer I got to the bathroom, the more urgent my need for water and a moment of solitude from this whole place became.


    Finally, I reached the bathroom door and slipped inside, closing it softly behind me. Leaning against the cool wall, I let out a breath I hadn''t realised I was holding.


    Moving towards the tub I turned on the tap, the sound of running water soothing out my frayed nerves. A few vines hung from the cloister ceiling, swaying gently with the draft from the open window. They cascaded down in natural loops, the leaves'' green colour morphing into a mix of aquamarine and teal as moonlight flowed down on it.


    Splashing my face with what little cold water had accumulated into the tub, I relished the refreshing shock, hoping it would clear the lingering fog of the plethora of thoughts on my mind.


    Catching my pitiful reflection in the mirror, I couldn''t help but swear to myself that I would never drink this much again¡ªthough I know, deep down, it was a promise I was unlikely to keep. After all, it''s what helps me in times nothing else does.


    That is perhaps what every alcoholic tells himself or herself before drinking themselves to sleep. Hmm. I think I might need some rehabilitation.


    The tub slowly filled with warm water, steam rising in wisps that curled in lazily towards the ceiling. Moisture droplets gathered on the vine leaves, glistening like small jewels, refracting the light waves.


    Taking in a heavy whiff, I noticed that the water coming out of the tap was infusing the air with a faint, earthy scent that mingled with the clean aroma of the soap I had added to the water. Technologically speaking, people of Eden are quite behind, however; Arcanum has helped them compensate for it.


    Logically speaking, people on Earth have no chance against Eden. If they decide to wage war, that is. From the looks of it, both sides look pretty compromising. However, this doesn''t mitigate the imminent interracial war. This just changes the nature of it.


    I am sure Jayden wants to use this for his own agenda. Overthrowing a sibling kingdom, or perhaps ending the situation with the so-called ''Sylvan Brotherhood,'' or whatever it''s called. My eyes are too unfocused to think about such details.


    The sound of water dropping off the corner of the tub brought me out of my thoughts. Carefully, I slipped out of my rumpled clothes, the fabric whispering as it fell to the tiled floor.


    Easing myself into the tub, the heat hugged me, soothing away the tension in my muscles. The warmth was just what I needed after that fight with Wujins and then Isolde as it seeped into my skin, drawing out the last remnants of chill and lethargy from the night before.


    Leaning back against the smooth surface, I closed my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. The vines above me rustled softly, leaves casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the walls.


    I submerged myself further, the water lapping gently against my chest. The steam continued to rise. The bathroom seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of weightlessness and the soothing murmur of stagnant water. I almost closed my eyes and slept again.


    Fighting the urge to pass out again, I stayed there, soaking in the peaceful ambiance, allowing myself to be swept away by the moment.


    I think I deserved this much. Believe it or not.


    The vines above swayed in a synchronised manner with the cadence of my breathing ¨C sometimes fast, and sometimes a slow back and forth.


    As the water began to cool, I reluctantly pulled myself out of the tub. Reaching for the only towel hanging nearby, I wrapped it around myself, feeling the lingering warmth of the bath against my skin.


    Drying my feet off the small 17 x 15 rug mat laying to the side of the tub that was made out of silky feathers, I put on the wooden sandals that were right behind the sink-lookalike.


    Once I had dried my whole body, I picked up the white undershirt that was a loose shirt with a narrow neck-space. It could be adjusted using the laces that held the two sides of the V-shape that connected with the otherwise overall round collar.


    Next, I picked up the slightly heavy light-brown overtunic. The faint smell of the production place where it was made had mixed in quite nicely with the perfume sprinkled over it. It fit me perfectly, with the cuffs of white shirt underneath slightly revealing themselves from the ends of the overtunic.


    The overtunic''s length reached mid-thigh, edges laced with elaborate trim that added just a touch of flair without being ostentatious.


    Wrapping the fancy looking girdle around my waist, I felt the braided leather ¨C sturdy textured ¨C under my fingers. The girdle was studded with tiny, precious stones and intricate metalwork. They sure like adding colourful jewels to almost everything.


    I then slipped on the dark-brown hose that contrasted passably with the lighter tunic.


    Once I was done with the basic clothes and felt the warmth return to my cold body, I walked out of the bathroom. The transition from the steam-filled dreamy and refreshingly aromatic ambiance to that of the room was startling to say the least. The momentary respite had made me forget what kind of hell I had left behind.


    Taking the wooden sandal out so I do not make unnecessary sounds, I walked over the end of the room and picked a pair of socks that were ¨C for some odd reason ¨C displayed on the side table. Wearing the black ones, I slid my feet into soft leather shoes.


    Wiggling my toes a few times inside it, I felt its comfort, which was decent. The faint smell of polished leather was still fresh. Satisfied, I tightened the laces and instead of knotting them, I just pushed them back into the shoe from the sides. While the shoe loses its practicality this way, Astrid says this makes me look more ''swaggy.''


    Not sure what that is supposed to mean, but as long as it doesn''t make me stand out like a freak in a general setting, I do not have any complaints against it.


    "URGHHH!"


    Oh, my goddess¡­no.


    As my body creaked while turning back, I saw Michael squirming amidst the small pond of women hugging him. His eyes were closed, but his forehead was creased and his nose crinkled.


    While Arcanum did enhance us in more than one way, there was still a limit to what a teen body could do. He should''ve seen this coming.


    Well, you can''t really expect anything remotely close to ''common sense'' from Michael. Makes me curious about if he was actually like this from the start. The haze restricts any and all recollection of the past, but from a basic observation, I think he might have been different. As a child, I mean.


    Not allowing him to spot me, I silently opened the door and got outside, shutting it right after. It closed with a slight click.


    Outside, I saw there were two guards standing guard. Their postures were rod straight, however, from the corner of their eyes they were observing me with a rather malicious look. Not like I was the one who did something to your kind¡­


    Disregarding the murderous looks from the guards, I started walking towards the place where most likely Aksel and Jayden were.


    After the spar last night, the three of us were guided towards the proper rooms. The one we had before were rooms prepared in a state of emergency. So, while the banquet and spar were going on, proper rooms were arranged for us on the ground floor.


    Much to my disdain; Astrid and I were given a single room, once again. I could feel some kind of discomfort in her. It was understandable since girls and women have to go through the same ordeal every month. Respecting her space, mostly because I did not want to be subjected to her mood swings during her monthly occurrence, I left the room and slept in Michael''s room.


    That was also when I came across the otherworldly beverage. But I suppose it made me feel that euphoric was because it was spreading the intoxication based on the arcanum inside my body. Like how gasoline burns from the top surface when sparked and not explode, it was somewhat similar to that.


    And since I do not have an outrageous control over my Arcanum, I was unable to escape the clutches of intoxication. Thankfully, I had retained enough control to not indulge in the more extreme pleasures. After all, I am sure no one wants a demonic version of AIDS.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    As I walked, I noticed things that I had not last night. The hallway was extending endlessly in both directions. The floor was decorated with carpet in the middle, but the edges where the floor met with wall was exposed, revealing that it was a smooth-slab-stone floor, seemingly worn smooth by centuries of footfalls.


    The hallway was quite wide. On one side, heavy wooden doors dominated the walls at precise seven-metre intervals. I am unaware of exact materials but from initial looks they were made from dark, aged oak, and reinforced with iron bands that had slight orange rust at the seams.


    The handles were wrought iron, the designs resembling a serpent-dragon or a basilisk coiled around ancient symbols.


    Above each door, a small, flexile-iron sconce held a flickering candle, emitting a dim, wavering orange-yellow light that illuminated the space between the doors. Arcanum was slightly swirling around the sconces, indicating it was getting sustained with arcanum.


    That should explain the unnatural brightness. Touching the walls as I walked, I felt that the stone walls were cold and slightly damp. The base of some corners where the supporting pillars segregated each window were covered in places with creeping ivy and patches of moss.


    This would make sense since such flora would thrive in the perpetual dimness of Lawold. I suppose they are left as they are because they are not disrupting the beauty of the overall ambiance.


    Opposite to the series of doors ¨C a sequence of tall, narrow windows lined the other side of the hallway. With pointed arches and leaded glass panes, it allowed a very clear view of the outside world¡ªor what passed for it in Lawold.


    The sky was a uniform shade of grey. Like a thick blanket of grey mist that hung suspended in the air, above the stratosphere, causing a state of perpetual twilight. There were no stars to break the monotony of the sky. Just an endless expanse of muted grey that differentiated day from night by the transition from grey to black and then back to grey.


    The windows were framed by light drapes, cinched to the side by golden bands. The chill of the castle and the past dawn permeated through the glass, causing a slight condensation on the inner surfaces, subtly distorting the view outside. Occasionally, a gust of wind rattled the panes.


    The ceiling was high and vaulted, with ribbed stone arches that met in the centre.


    Every few metres, a stone pedestal stood against the wall beneath a window, each one holding a different artefact or piece of ancient armour. They were clean, lustrous even, indicating how much care went into them. A transparent cuboid arcanum-barrier protected the artefacts inside.


    As the light of the torches flickered in and out, I could make out the arrays of the barrier that formed it.


    The air in the hallway was cool and refreshing. I could somehow smell the faint scent of old books and damp stone.


    On cue, I turned my head and saw a huge door giving way to the library. A few demons were inside, dusting the books. Some had climbed the ladders; some were opening each individual book and were cleaning them softly with a silk cloth attached to a small wooden stick.


    I took an involuntary step towards it, however; one of them beat me to the entrance and stood in the doorframe. "Entry until the regular morning cleanup is done is prohibited by Lord Cromwell himself." He spoke, his tone low and contumacious.


    "Hmm. Alright, I will be back." Despite sensing he did not want me even in the close proximity of the library, I announced my arrival anyways.


    I wish I could have recorded the look on his face¡­oh!


    Slipping my hand into my pocket, I pulled out the new phone I had bought after ''accidentally'' breaking the last one. The screen protector over it was in an absolute mess, however, underneath; the actual screen was unscathed. I breathed out a sigh of relief.


    22,000 Kroner for a mere phone is as outrageous as it already is. I do not want to go into debt after breaking this one as well.


    Turning it on, I looked at its battery first. It still had around 27% of battery left. There were no signals, but I still placed it on aeroplane mode and turned-on battery saving mode. It might not work here, but who knows; this little charge might prove really fruitful later on.


    Scrolling mindlessly for a while ¨C because nothing worked without an internet connection ¨C I slipped it back into my pocket after reducing its brightness once it dropped to 25%.


    Before I knew it, I had arrived at the very corner of the hallway. The endless stretch of doors and windows finally ended, giving way to what I assumed as the ''main hall''. Although I couldn''t be sure, since this was one of the many halls I had walked through last night, after getting lost on my way to the room from the infirmary.


    The end of the hallway transitioned into a baroque stone archway. As I stepped through the brightly lit archway, the brighter artefacts ¨C which I assume were reserved for ''daytime'' ¨C illuminated the place, making me take in the surroundings thoroughly for the first time. It was a sizable space that seemed to swallow the dim light from the hallway.


    The high ceiling of the hall was supported by colossal stone columns that lined the sides. Each column was carved with occasional runes that seemed like a mix of Abrahamic and some other languages. They were not entirely decipherable.


    A giant chandelier hung in the centre of the ceiling, the heavy iron frame adorned with countless candles that flickered softly. The smell of wax mixed in with incense sticks soothed out any lingering tension I had on my mind. Taking a heavy whiff of it, I exhaled.


    Slipping my hands into my pants, I looked around. To my right, I caught sight of a room just off the hall. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of the interior. The door was less imposing than those in the hallway, smaller and less adorned, but it seemed new, unmarked by wear and tear. The iron handle was cool under my hand as I pushed the door open further.


    As it opened without making a sound, it revealed the simple yet stylish room. It was almost similar to the one Michael had.


    Astrid jerked her head back, the pin that held her bun pressed between her lips and the bundle of hair suspended upwards as she tried to form a perfect bun.


    "¡­Arthur!" She exclaimed after a moment of absentmindedly staring at me.


    "Good morning." I greeted, taking a step inside as I closed the door with a ''tick.''


    "Good morning!" She greeted me. She stood up and left her hair, causing it to roll down and spill down on her shoulders. While she was turning, she realised what she had done as she looked back into the mirror.


    "Noo~" She exclaimed with a crestfallen face. "My hair¡­"


    "It looks fine as it is." I raised my voice, leaning against the wall.


    "I¡ªugh¡­wait, no, that''s not important." As if having a hundred thoughts on her mind, her features showed as if she was struggling which one to give priority to. She stomped on the floor and then walked towards me. Holding the side of my arms, she jerked them.


    A shiver ran down my spine. Suppressing the survival reflex, I looked down.


    "We need to talk. Like right now." She spoke and pursed her lips tightly.


    "Vanilla and honey." I blurted out.


    "¡­huh?"


    "Your lips. They smell like vanilla."


    Her huge, round eyes widened as she took a sudden step back, the slight freckles underneath her eyes vanishing beneath the red that flushed it. "It''s the¡­lipgloss¡­"


    "You brought one?" I asked, blinking rapidly in confusion. It was honestly impressive. She could''ve died while coming to Eden, and she decided to pack a lipstick. Words cannot begin to describe how utterly enthralled I am.


    Before she could reply, I took a step forward. She breathed in sharply, as if she had suddenly stubbed her toe. "Something wrong?" I asked, as she stood still, unmoving.


    "Err; ehm, not really¡­" Her voice drifted away by the end, as she looked to the side. Making myself comfortable over the left seat of the three-seater couch that was placed around 4 inches away from the doorframe, I looked up at her. She stared at me for a while and then suddenly gasped.


    Her lips parted and she shook her head. "Ah yes, I was saying¡­wait, what was I saying?"


    "Something really important?"


    She raised her brows and then snapped her fingers. "Yes, that!"


    "Right¡­?" I was quite confused. It was one of those times where I did not want to get on her bad side. She is really grumpy during these days. And besides, even back then, she had talked about how she can''t do all of this anymore.


    She walked over to the other side and plopped right by me. As I was about to turn my head towards her, she jumped back, sitting in the far-right corner of the couch. "Right, so¡­" she stammered, but continued talking anyway.


    "¡­have I done something?"


    "I am afraid I do not understand." I answered as a matter-of-factly. What she asked was very vague.


    "You are doing a lot of things. Such as breathing, seeing, looking. I am not sure what you are referring to." I continued, explaining as to what I meant by the previous sentence. "Can you be specific?"


    She narrowed her eyes and the thin lips pursed once again. Now that she was sitting right underneath the light source, I could see the gloss on her lips.


    She was wearing an ivory chemise. Its long sleeves were trimmed with lace that felt slightly rough but made meticulously. Over it was a darker-shade gown which seemed like a snug fit at the waist that flared into a full skirt.


    Golden and silver embroidery of vines and flowers adorned the gown. She was also wearing a short, fur-trimmed mantle in dark brown, with fur that felt thick and soft, and a jewelled clasp. The pointed leather shoes matched the gown.


    The light colour scheme was quite fitting on her. She shifted and eased out the two creases in her lap area.


    "You know what I mean¡­" she started talking, the look in her eyes softening ever so slightly.


    "¡­you have changed ever since, you know, you came out of that whole cube ¨C if you can even call it that ¨C thingy. Are you okay? Have I done something wrong? You didn''t even stay for a single moment last night as well. After the whole spar¡­I was looking forward to sealing up any damage to your body, you know?"


    Hmm.


    "There was nothing much to be worried about anyways." I replied after a few moments of silence. "Just took a quick visit to the garden for a stroll and then the infirmary. Turns out I am not the one who needs any kind of medical attention." Narrating the events of what transpired after the fight, I sunk further back into the couch.


    "Well, that''s good, I guess." She looked down, fiddling with her thumbs. Her hair was covering her features from the side. "You didn''t answer what I asked."


    "Sorry?"


    She shook her head. "You don''t answer a question when you don''t have a roundabout answer to that." She spoke with a rather judgmental look. "I am guessing I really did something but you are not sure how to put it into words in front of me. Right?"


    "Not really." I lifted my shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "If there was something I would have¡­"


    She suddenly crossed her leg and placed her chin in her palm. Her gloss-laden lips quirked up. "You are lying again."


    "Is it a lie if I don''t think what you did was wrong after all?"


    She breathed out furiously, the smile only half-present. "You know, you overcomplicate everything. Maybe just say it normally, and you know, we can work it out?"


    I stared at her for a while. She matched my gaze for the first few seconds and then started to look over my head, avoiding me. "Is it because of something I said when you came after me? You know, when you killed those lizard-doggy things¡­Mugen? Mugen Train?"


    "Wujin¡­"


    "Ah, yeah, that."


    "Perhaps. Who knows." I raised a knowing brow at her.


    "You know, I don''t even remember what I said!" She exclaimed as I stood up, her eyes following me.


    "Doesn''t make it any better, in all honesty." I admitted, however; decided to dismiss it.


    Astrid was just a child. Holding what she says when her life is almost stolen against her is not a wise approach. She was weak ¨C physically, and mentally ¨C but that was nothing to brood on. She had space for growth. Infinite growth.


    I needed her to nurture her Arcane Art to the limit. However, stains on the heart and brain are the main reasons that impede an arcanum user''s growth. A not-so ideal situation, especially for me.


    "But-"


    She was about to talk when I stood up and extended my hand.


    Astrid stared at it for a while. Smiling, she extended her own hand.


    What the¡ª


    Shaking my hand out of the way, I spoke up. "Not your hand. I meant-" I pointed at the long needle like pin in her hand. "-that."


    "You did it on purpose, didn''t you!?"


    Walking to her back, leaned forward, letting the slightly elevated handle of the couch support my weight. "The hairpin." I repeated, extending my hand forward.


    Without looking back, she extended her hand and held it to me. I took it from her grasp. "Let''s attribute it to misinterpretation on my part." I started speaking, referring to the previous subject.


    Her hair was still damp between my fingers. "I am quite sensitive these days." I admitted.


    "Mhmm. I can tell." She giggled. "I''m supposed to be the one who should be¡ªehmm, nothing."


    She suddenly paused midway, awkwardly coughing.


    Oh. She thinks I do not know. I should tell her. Hmm.


    But the probability of this revelation devolving into something even more troublesome is quite high. Hmm¡­yeah, let''s leave her as deluded as she is.


    Running my fingers through her hair I smoothed out any tangles. Then, gathering the strands at the crown of her head, I felt the weight of it as it pooled into my hands. Slowly, I twisted the hair into a rope-like coil, winding it around itself to form a tight bun.


    "Woah¡­you''re good at it." She marvelled. "Have you been doing it to lots of girls? Hehe."


    "I rarely leave the house, you know that." I let out a tired breath.


    "True, true¡­Ow¡­!" She bobbed her head back and forth which made it almost slip out of my grasp, but I pulled at it, keeping her head in place. "Why are you pulling my hair?"


    Because it feels nice¡­?


    "You were moving too much. I am trying to compensate for when I ruined your hair a while ago." With the bun formed, I held it securely with one hand while picking the hairpin with the other. The centre of the pin was still moist where Astrid had gripped it between her lips.


    I slowly rubbed my thumb against it.


    "Hey? Are you there?"


    "Uh? Yeah."


    Carefully sliding the pin through the base of the bun, I weaved it in and out to secure the hairstyle in place. The metal-jade felt firm and steady, holding the bun together with a reassuring stability. She raised her hands and held her hair from the side, pulling a few strands from either side before letting it rest loosely on her face.


    "You just ruined it¡­" I complained, feeling crestfallen.


    "No, silly, this is how you sport it."


    "By ruining something you''ve done so painstakingly?"


    "It''s not ruining if it''s better!"


    I think homeschooling has made me miss a big portion of my life.


    "Alright. There you go." I spoke as I took a step back from her.


    She stood up and ran towards the mirror, inspecting every nook-and-cranny of it. After a while of inspecting it, she looked back with a bright smile. "This is perfect! When did you learn it?"


    "I saw you doing this once."


    "Oh, real¡ªwait, I usually style my hair after I wear my shirt."


    "And?"


    "I usually¡­you know what? Forget about it. I am sure I am overthinking it¡­ugh, my mood suddenly took a dip!" She looked at me with a rather hard look.


    Realising this was the time to take my leave before this ticking time bomb exploded right into my face, I decided to leave.


    "I will leave. I think breakfast is going to be served soon. Will see you there."


    "How am I supposed to find my way there? I can''t even understand these horn-y people¡­God that sounds awful, I mean, people!"


    "Follow the smell, I guess?" I spoke and before she could finish her sentence, I walked out.


    She was in high spirits, putting other factors to the side. The little lapse in judgement I had that made me worry about her potential getting halted was of no use. I was merely overthinking. As I walked away from her door, her loud voice became nothing more than a distant whoosh, I looked down at my finger.


    It was shining with a slightly pink gloss.


    Hahh¡­what am I doing? Rubbing it against my hose and started walking towards the garden. There was still time to breakfast. A little walk before some food would not hurt.


    ----


    ----


    After a brisk run of around 10 minutes, I met up with Astrid in the dining hall and had breakfast.


    The breakfast ¨C much like every other moment in this castle ¨C was quite awkward. It was quite clear that they were being forced to do whatever they were doing.


    And although from a very self-absorbed perspective it is humiliating and shameful, it is not something that should''ve been that far from expectations. One would have an easier time getting used to it if a hypothetical situation was thought up in which our roles were reversed.


    Would we be any different?


    It could go in a little different route since most humans do not know about the hostility or even existence of other races, however; for argument''s sake, let''s say all humans know what feelings or what the other species tried to do to them all these years ago. Would they act complacent and welcoming?


    Of course, no. Even if demons or alike were not hostile, humans have a natural inclination towards violence. Violence in any shape and matter. Be it direct, or indirect.


    If in such situations, people who were brought up with hatred against humans whispered into their ears since their first cry resounded into this world, this kind of reaction should come as very¡­tolerable. To say the least.


    Putting the awkward, passive-aggressive contexture to the side, the breakfast itself was enough to overthrow any lingering animosity that was directed at us. The breakfast was served with an egg dish and some kind of tea.


    The egg dish was cooked in a much different way than the ones on Earth. It was shaped like a meringue and cooked in something that was spicy and really greasy. However, at the same time, it left a rather delicate, floral sweetness as an aftertaste and the beginning hints of bitterness from the spiciness of what I assumed as ''chilli flakes'' would fade into oblivion, eventually.


    The outside was hard ¨C like a jaw-breaker but once my teeth dipped into it, it gave a loud crunch, giving way to a soft, marshmallow-like interior which was filled with a mixture of yolk and something else, cooked like a smooth, creamy and salty custard.


    And while I was oblivious to the second item, it had a remarkable secondary note ¨C some kind of mushroom followed by a refreshing zing of crushed ice berries. It was garnished with crystallised petals of lilies on fire¡­literal fire that gave the area underneath it a dark shade.


    Shards of spun sugar were also sprinkled giving it a caramelised depth.


    I was quite blown away at first, however, I soon understood why it made me feel like I had never eaten something like this before.


    Foods that are salty and sweet are hyperpalatable which can also trigger hormones that contribute to cravings¡ªsuch as insulin, dopamine, ghrelin and leptin. Salt minimises sweetness and sharpens flavours, while sugar simultaneously helps round out a salty dish by softening the taste and balancing it out.


    It''s bound to bombard your senses.


    As I was thinking about the breakfast that I had absolutely demolished and brimmed my starved stomach with, Astrid''s breath continued to progressively become quicker and grumpier. Her steps faltered every now and then, making her stop and then run to catch up.


    "Are you actually going to follow me around?"


    "Isn''t that my job description?" She quipped almost immediately, as if she had the answer on the tip of her tongue.


    Taking a glance at her, I spoke up. "You don''t look too¡­well."


    Her ears twitched like a rabbit. "I am perfectly, ughhh- fine."


    "Doesn''t sound very convincing." I felt my words drawl as she huffed and then looked away.


    Tracking back the path from where I had come earlier, we reached the intersection after which one of the many halls divided into more spaces. My eyes instinctively moved to follow towards the library''s room.


    The single door of the library was closed and the people who were working inside had long since left, evident from how little the general presence of people in the vicinity was.


    Much to my surprise, Jayden had not stationed people to follow us at all times under the pretext of ''showing the guests around.'' However, there were people standing in front of rooms and other passageways. This could mean that he wanted to regulate our visits and our doings only in specific regions.


    And from the looks of it, the library is not one of them.


    "Do you think they have something interesting in there?" As if reading my mind, Astrid pointed her finger in the library''s direction.


    "Only one way to find out, right?"

 58: Pandemonium.

    As we stepped into the library, the sheer scale of the place struck me. Shelves of blackened wood stretched from floor to ceiling, packed tightly with books of varying ages and conditions. The air carried a rather distinct mix of old parchment and a faint, sulfuric tang. Along with the slight undertone of aged flowers.


    Astrid''s eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape as she took in the surroundings. Her gaze darted from shelf to shelf, her awe palpable but silent, as required by the decorum on Earth.


    "It''s huge¡­" she mumbled to herself and then tightly closed her eyes. "¡­yikes, please don''t make a ''that''s what she said'' joke."


    You can''t be serious.


    "I will not." I retorted before turning my head back to the object of awe.


    Thinking deeply over it, this library isn''t an architectural marvel, since we have libraries far grander than this. However, perhaps it was because we expected little of a mediaeval aged civilisation, anything they do comes out as astonishing.


    The books inside the shelves were meticulously organised and shelved, the leather of the covers cleaned down to the last speck of dust.


    The lower shelves seemed to hold the more practical volumes. They were labelled using a piece of leather. The text over them felt like a hot object had been used to brand the name into it.


    One of them was titled Sequence 1-3: Skills; bound in dark leather with silvered edges and their spines had faintly discernible runes engraved on them. Above these, tomes on ''Magic Hypothesis,'' ''Magic Theory'' and ''Ancient Spellcraft'' were arranged.


    They were adorned with a protective spell that formed a small dome around them. Right beside the leather nameplates of the books, there was a small button. Although it can be anything, I assume it''s the button used to dispel the protective dome from books.


    To our left, the entire section was devoted to ''practical spellcasting'' and ''potion-making/medicine''.


    I am assuming spellcasting is being related to those who have kinetic abilities, or in short, elementals. Fire, water, earth and wind. It would align with the fact that these have been left in an open setting, since it is a common phenomenon and not a secret technique.


    This would make sense since spellcasting dedicated manuals were thick, some having their pages yellowed with age and some brand new. They were interspersed with slim volumes on specific enchantments and rare concoctions as well.


    "This is big enough to get lost¡­hey Arthur!" Astrid called out for me as she took a step closer. "Imagine Madam Irma Pince pops out of somewhere, hehe~" She giggled before looking up at me with a rather superior look. "That was a--"


    "Harry Potter, I know. I have read them."


    Before I was looked down on for not reading a seemingly ''iconic'' book, I defended myself.


    "You¡­read it? Bruh."


    "Did you not read it?"


    "I mean, people do¡­nerds¡­"


    I heard that!


    "Not that I am calling you that or anything¡­.ehehe¡­" she let out an awkward chortle.


    Nevermind. I think I can never fit in with people.


    As we walked a bit further, a small canopy of small rounded dishes hung from the vaulted, glass-paned ceiling for about half the distance between the top and the floor, each one carrying an aromatic candle.


    Separating this area from the Skills and Medicine section was a trapezium door. The door was not attached to any hinges. It was just there, standing.


    I moved towards the side which was populated with more books. The right side of this section housed histories and genealogies, chronicling the lineage of ''Cromwells'' and other ''demon lords'' and the rise and fall of ''dominions'', some with pages that appeared to have been written in blood.


    The metallic tang was strong. If I had to assume, it was perhaps written with the blood of Cromwell''s enemies who had faced defeat at their hands.


    Making a mental note to read the geography books as my first priority, I decided to tour it first. Who knows I might find an even more interesting piece to read.


    In the centre rows, the theme had shifted to magical creatures and their lore. Illustrated bestiaries sat next to scrolls of parchment detailing encounters with common and then all the way up to Sequence 2 beasts.


    Most of these texts were bound in scales or fur. Most likely from the monster or creature that was featured in the text to give a tangible idea of what was being talked about.


    As we moved deeper into the library, the glow of candles began to stretch our shadows.


    I couldn''t help but notice the fine details¡ªtitles written in runic script; others locked with intricate metal clasps. Certain volumes emitted a faint hum or glow. There was a whole section dedicated to ''Artificing'' and ''Essence Arms'' as well.


    And while essence arms were an intriguing subject, I already had an inkling about it. However, I ticked it off as my second priority to read after the geography books.


    Suddenly the faint hum of Arcanum made the hair on my body stand on edge.


    Astrid felt it as well as she nudged me, pointing to an alcove where a rather thin tome was sitting open on a pedestal. Its pages were emitting a soft light. It glowed brighter and fainter; in uneven intervals.


    I took a step forward and the words ¨C that were indecipherable ¨C suddenly turned blood red. At the same time, the yellow-white pages turned black and I felt my arcanum oddly resonating with it.


    "A-Arthur¡­I don''t think a book should be doing that¡­"


    "Right¡­" I could only agree as despite the ''resonance'' that I felt with the book, the actual situation was much more¡­dire. I was feeling a hand against my primary node. Like a sword that had entered painlessly into my chest and stopped right before poking my heart.


    I had no idea what this was about. Uncertainty about something, or in this case, complete lack of information was a recipe for disaster. "Let''s turn around." I spoke.


    I was pretty confident I had said it.


    As I turned around, a pair of grey eyes slithered right past me and crashed into my chest. My senses flared and then dimmed as I felt my upper body fall down, severed entirely from the rest of me. But the sensation of pain or something close was absent.


    My eyes blinked once while laying down in a pool of my own blood.


    "A-Arthur¡­ I don''t think a book should be doing that¡­"


    Astrid nudged from my side. This time, instead of continuing to look at the book, I turned around.


    "Astrid?"


    The pale darkness from the book consumed the light first, and then Astrid as she slowly turned her head towards me. Behind the few silvery strands were a pair of grey eyes.


    "Uninvited."


    Underneath the usually cheerful baritone was a cacophony of indistinguishable sounds, muffling out her words.


    Flames ¨C dark and pungent, overwhelming. Air thick with tar. Burning¡­so much.


    My body felt on fire¡­I was on fire. Yet all I felt in that split second was a freezing numbness.


    "A-Arthur¡­ I don''t think a book should be doing that¡­"


    I was standing beside her again. This time, instead of focusing on one of them, I did so with myself.


    The world, a blur.


    I had forced my head down, but then I was looking straight.


    "Vermin."


    A bright blur amidst the heart of darkness¡ªor a dark blur among the light in her once-blue, now-grey eyes.


    Something filled my mouth. Smooth and creamy. But raw. Slightly gelatinous. Like a bloody, unseasoned version of scrambled eggs.


    Streams of blood.


    They went down my lips. Not because I was bleeding, no, it was the gelatinous object in my mouth.


    A pair of grey eyes. A noisy, clamorous backdrop for the echoes of ten thousand splintered memories of a mind¡­a foreign mind pushed beyond the edge of capability. Of sanity.


    "Abomination."


    I turned around, Astrid''s pale grey eyes staring at me, face contorted into disgust.


    "Desecrator."


    "Fiend."


    Cold breath. Cold, foul breath against my nape. Teeth¡­sharp¡­digging deep into my skin.


    "Arthur? ARHUR!"


    Something blurred from beside me as I caught it. Swinging it to the side, I pinned the blurring projectile to the wall that encapsulated the book.


    "H-Hey¡­what are you doing¡­" Astrid''s words drawled, her bright blue eyes unblinking as she stared at me.


    "Uhh-" An involuntary sound left my lips before I let go of her arm.


    What was all that?


    I tried recollecting it. But each aspect of what I had seen seemed to fade into oblivion. Like a child running after a butterfly and desperately trying to catch it. To catch it and bring it back to¡­


    ¡­wait. When have I experienced this?


    Each thought branched into the next, and then again, leaving nothing but a crippling sensation of getting overwhelmed.


    "This is the third time you''ve pinned me! Are you OK? IS THIS SOME KINK AWAKENING?!" Astrid''s voice progressively became louder and louder as she wrapped her arms around herself. "What are you planning to do to me if I don''t stop you, huh!?"


    "I, uh-" I paused. My senses were extremely rattled. Not finding any other words, I did what was bound to succeed. "Yeah, sorry. It just happened."


    Perhaps it was the lack of enthusiasm or any other emotion, the air around her changed palpably. "Are you okay?"


    "Yeah, let''s leave." I spoke and then turned around before starting to leave.


    Backtracking our way and arriving at the section that had contained the geography books, I stood in front of the giant collection. For now, I pushed the memory of what had happened to the back of my head, despite it making my hair stand on edge every other second.


    My fingers trailed along the vast array of books, undulating up and down.


    "I want ice-cream, UGH!" Astrid suddenly smacked her fist into the table. "Ow¡­" She exclaimed right after.


    "I am sure they make some." I replied, looking for an appropriate book.


    "Aren''t you forgetting something?"


    Only after that she mentioned the problem did it click with me. "Right. You can''t speak Abrahamic."


    "Yes! Also, I think they will kill me if I personally ordered something."


    My back was wet with cold sweat, however; the temporary sensation of dread was slowly bleeding out.


    "Yeah, most likely." I replied and then turned over my shoulder. "How ice cream isn''t a good idea for you to consume, given your conditi¡ªehm, I will write it for you on a piece of paper and you can relay it to Jayden. I am sure he will do something about it."


    "You¡­"


    Oopsies. I think I messed up.


    "¡­you"


    I was too engrossed into finding an appropriate book and organising my scattered thoughts!


    "¡­how long have you known¡­?"


    "Uh, I may or may not have paid a bit too close of an attention-"


    She bolted out of the door, squealing and hiding her face in her palms.


    Well, well, that takes care of her. I am sure she won''t leave her room for a day. It becomes quite easy to make a person do anything you want when the person in question is an overthinker. Leaves just the perfect window open for an appropriate seed to tangle their thoughts.


    Not really understanding which one out of the giant collection should be better, I first searched for the new editions. While the year was not written on them, I could still make out which were new from a few things; the decolourisation of pages, smell of the white pages in different books, wear and tear on leather covers and placement in the shelves.


    After compiling all the ''new editions'' according to me, I picked up the fattest one. Usually fat things aren''t ideal, however; in terms of books, it was a safe bet. My line of thought behind this was simple. I was expecting it to cover everything I had in mind. However, that bar of expectation was low. I was fully prepared to gain nothing from these books.


    Because the library had an open access with no real restriction on who could breeze in and out of it. It was more than likely that books with more despotic information have already been cleared out on Jayden''s orders.


    Pulling the caquetoire lookalike ¨C that was an armchair with a wide seat and high back, designed for comfort during long periods of reading or conversation, commonly used in Europe during the French renaissance ¨C I sat on it. The little cushioning done at the actual seat was barely comfortable to sit and read for a slightly extended period of time.


    On the table in front of me was a small feathered cup-like structure. It had two quill-pens. The cup ¨C despite seemingly made of feathers ¨C was heavy as it held the few sheets of paper underneath it in place. Beside the quill-pen container were three pots of inks.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Turning it towards myself by directing the spine of the book towards my left, however; I had forgotten that unlike English or Norwegian, Abrahamic was written from right to left; much like Arabic, Urdu and other related languages.


    Since the outer leather was subjected to wear-and-tear attributed to passage of time, it was hard to tell at first glance. Regardless, once I had placed it symmetrically in front of myself was when I flipped the cover. As I did, a faint aroma with a slight fruity undertone wafted off from it.


    This smell of sweetness is usually the result of lignin ¨C a compound in paper ¨C breaking down over time.


    The first page was blank with only a serpentine-draconic logo on the second page. It resembled closely to a basilisk. Four clawed fingers were holding the insignia from the bottom most part. Kind of reminded me of Albert''s nails, or claws.


    Nevermind Albert. After flipping another 3 blank pages, I finally arrived at a huge text describing the title of the book.


    ¡ºHelheim''s Archive: Mapping Eden¡»


    Below the title, right in the middle of the page was ¨C once again ¨C the basilisk logo and the long-nailed hand holding it.


    In the bottom right corner of the page was the name of the author written. However, it was written using advanced calligraphy, so I had to pick up a piece of paper and a quill pen from the container and jot down the words that were easily comprehensible.


    After about 2 to 3 minutes of just comprehending the advanced, or rather devolved formal dialect of Abrahamic, I was able to piece up the name of the author.


    ¡ºLyra Darkbane¡»


    Going purely by the etymology, you could say it was a demon''s name. However, speculation is only ideal when you don''t base any further thoughts on them. Not like the name of the author matters too much to me, but species other than humans live long lives. It might be possible the author is still alive, out there.


    Alright, Lyra, let''s see what you have to say!


    The next page was a meticulously detailed table of contents. It had three columns; 1 thick and 2 ribbon thin. Over 310 topics ¨C main and subtopics ¨C were listed in the larger section; accompanied by page numbers and associated eras in the two smaller columns.


    Some of the settings in these records predated the current era of Eden. Knowing what era Eden is currently in is quite hard. Since, the time lapse in between our worlds is quite huge, but that doesn''t exactly add up. Even if we were to factor in the fact that we had to build everything up from scratch.


    One thing I could think from the top of my head is that the difference in time passage started to synchronise ever since Eden''s arcanum started to bleed into Earth. That should make sense in this current era which is not millions of years more primitive than ours.


    Putting into Earth''s Gregorian calendar, it would mean that Eden is just entering the renaissance era, and into the extreme ends of the mediaeval era.


    Shaking my head to get rid of the thoughts, I looked down once again and flipped the page.


    The contents were organised methodically, beginning with the fundamental principles of geography. It covered everything from the shape and size of the Eden to the celestial bodies that influence their world and protect it.


    It was basically a guide on how to read a map that would be provided in the actual content. Like making the reader able to identify the visual description of various terrains, from mountains to valleys, rivers, lakes, and seas; each annotated with small brief notes on their locations.


    From the icons, I spotted a few roads as well. Not many, but there were still quite a few.


    When the introductory stuff finally ended, a final ''author''s note'' came into view.


    ¡ºI am sure all of this introductory formality so far has been the same as every other edition of my book. However, please bear with it since there are many people who will be reading this for the first time. Without further ado, let''s delve into the finalised version of this book ¨C for now. Hehe~¡»


    ¡ºAnd before we start, I would like to share one thing I have learned in my countless journey across the vast expanse ¨C barren and populated alike ¨C of not only Helheim but Eldoria as well is that¡­¡»


    ¡ºCulture is like smog. To live within it, you must breathe some of it in and, inevitably, be contaminated. With that, I shall take my leave~ Happy navigating~¡»


    That was¡­inspirational. Somehow. But what did she mean by ''getting contaminated'' after mentioning culture?


    It could be that she had exposure to morals or way of living that may have clashed with her own. Well¡­nevermind that. I couldn''t care less about what some cartographer thinks or experiences. Time to read this book and update my knowledge!


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    I hope what I said doesn''t come back to bite me though.


    ***************************


    Flip!


    Another page bit the dust.


    After the shortest three hours of my life, I finally looked up and breathed out a heavy sigh. The hair resting as shaggy bangs over my face were blown away as I stared at the ceiling, somewhat proud of myself as a feeling of contentment washed over me.


    At least I was not as clueless as to where I was anymore. There are still gaps and ambiguities, but this much would suffice for my survival, in case of a mishap. Or a misfortune, which I seem to be attracting quite a lot these days.


    Clasping my hands together, I stretched them over my head as I yawned.


    This much was clear, however, just to remind myself; Lawold was situated in the Central Dominion which was one of the ''Three Hells'' in Helheim ¨C the Kingdom in which we currently are.


    Eden has around 4 established, main kingdoms with around 100 or so more that are not counted as any kingdom but rather a series of independent countries. However, almost all of them are controlled or regulated by or via the 4 main kingdoms of Eden.


    Kind of like how Gurnsey is with a self-governing British Crown dependency. There are other examples as well like Greenland with the Kingdom of Denmark, Puerto Rico with the United States and Hong Kong which is a Special Administrative Region (SAR) of China.


    The four main kingdoms are what most of modern human fables are based around. And just like I had pictured it, the four kingdoms are divided into two factions. The first two ¨C seemingly evil ones ¨C are called Helheim ¨C the one we are currently in ¨C and Eldoria.


    The relationship between Helheim and Eldoria is like that of Scotland with the UK. In this case, Eldoria being the UK equivalent and Helheim being the Scotland equivalent.


    Helheim is a constituent country of Eldoria but is recognised as a separate kingdom. It has its own court and government that manages many domestic issues, while the Eldorian royal family handles defences, foreign policy, and broader economic policies.


    Since this edition was about Helheim, Eldoria was not mentioned afterwards.


    Helheim has three main dominions with multiple villages on the outskirts which are excluded from the law and taxes implemented inside the dominions. This is done to nurture the growth of farmers and to improve their standard of living.


    The three main dominions of Helheim are also referred to as ''The Three Hells'' and are named; Central Dominion, Imperial Commonwealth and the Zogrates Confederation.


    And despite the Central Dominion''s name, it is not located in the centre of Helheim. It is named Central Dominion because it is the closest to the actual centre of the Kingdom. The place where the lord and the ruler ¨C Lord Brimstone or Lucifer ¨C of the entire kingdom resided.


    Gehenna. The federal capital of Helheim. The place that housed the grandest of the structures the architecture has ever seen.


    Lucifer''s Pandemonium.


    If I had to say so myself, it was quite a cool name. And while I can tell what led to its name, I am surprised humans have retained this knowledge via poems for so long.


    The term originates from John Milton''s epic poem "Paradise Lost," where Pandemonium is depicted as the capital of Hell and the palace of Lucifer and his fellow ''fallen angels''. Pandemonium is described as a grand and elaborate structure, symbolising the seat of Lucifer''s power and governance over Hell.


    Who knew his castle would actually be named Pandemonium!


    And while it''s not a dominion, Gehenna is said to be a city that scales to the combined area covered by both Imperial Commonwealth and Zogrates Confederation.


    Gehenna also receives around 60% of the tax money from all three dominions; making it the richest and most thriving area in the entirety of Helheim. Who would have assumed that!?


    Gehenna is also said to have a red moon. Quoting the guidebook, it said:


    ¡ºThere is no tangible or theoretical proof about more than 1 moons existing, however, according to sages, arcanists and multiple other enchanters and alchemists this can be attributed to the whims and mood shifts of the Gods that preside over Helheim, signalling how they might not be happy with the current state of their patron lands ~ Section 267: Page 8,099¡»


    You''ll always see morons like this author. Swallowing belief patterns whole so they don''t have to think for themselves. And while I can''t really blame them due to their infancy in the ''scientific field'' the weird colourisation of the moon can be caused simply by the presence of a specific gas right above the stratosphere.


    These gases can interact with scattering a specific light out of the colour spectrum when the waves reach them ¨C like how red moon can be caused by the excessive presence of methane in the upper atmosphere, leading to increased scattering of blue light and leaving more red light to pass through and be observed.


    Same could be the case with a blue moon which can be caused by the excessive presence of ozone in the upper atmosphere, leading to increased absorption of red light, which allows more blue light to dominate the light that reaches the observer.


    This is one of the many possibilities that can happen. Not because of the mood shift of some fickle God. Since if Gods were really unhappy with a civilisation, it would''ve been drowned to death or exterminated via means like meteors, raining flames and stones and much more.


    Putting that aside, this much has become clear by now, but Cromwells are the current ruling family of Central Dominion.


    The ruling families of the other two states are; Alderidge of Imperial Commonwealth and Lancaster of Zogrates Confederation. The arcane arts ¨C or anything remotely close to it was not disclosed, at all. Apparently these two have the most stable night and day rotations in Helheim, with Central Dominion ¨C especially Lawold ¨C having the worst.


    The Imperial Commonwealth, as the name suggests, is the trade hub for Helheim where most of the trade with Eldoria and some of the dominions belonging to the "Sylvan Brotherhood" are managed.


    While Zogrates Confederation has long been the guardians of a vast collection of civilisation''s records ¨C both ancient knowledge and magical texts. A lot of forgeries are also located here. Most of the people ¨C predominantly demons ¨C from Zogrates Confederation are scholars and alchemists.


    Whereas the Central Dominion is the military hub of Helheim. Almost all arcanum users ¨C which constitute around 98% of the population ¨C are trained in Central Dominion. Apart from the military theme, Central Dominion is also the execution ground.


    Criminals, convicts etc are brought to multiple cities or outskirts of Central Dominion''s lands from Gehenna, Zogrates and Commonwealth; and are subjected to trial and punishments in the courts and execution grounds of Central Dominion.


    ¡ºThe reason behind why the esteemed Lord Cromwell decide to continue to stay in Lawold ¨C The City of Lost Moon is still shrouded in ambiguity and multiple conspiracy theories, shared with each other after 15 barrels of fermented beverages ~ Section 101: Page 3,226 ¡»


    In short, no one knows about why Jayden stays in this weird city that has never seen the light of the day.


    Staying on the topic of execution grounds, one of the biggest execution grounds of Central Dominion is something I was all too familiar with.


    The Keep of Ruin, located in the Thal''kresh desert.


    And while it is said to be an execution ground, there was no record of Wujins being stored there. I am guessing it was a very official matter.


    However, one thing to notice deeply that made the desert stand out from most things was that it magically connected with a small part of ''Alfheimer'', the lesser of the two Kingdoms in ''Sylvan Brotherhood.''


    Just like how Eldoria was superior to Helheim, in the Sylvan brotherhood there were two major kingdoms namely Alfheim and Asgardia. And the latter was the mediator of the former.


    The mountain range where me and Michael, and then later on Astrid, had landed was called Azdharr''s Peaks. And behind this peak, where I had seen multiple lush green trees, was the vast forest of¡­


    Silverglade!


    The forest that old elf I had encountered spoke up.


    He said; ''This isn''t Silverglade.''


    However, the question still remains¡­what were they doing in an inhabitable place like that?


    There was only one conclusion I could reach at from the top of my head, and that was that the old man, Frosti, Thelasa and Elara were on a reconnaissance mission.


    I am sure when Jayden was trying to imprison so many Wujins, and that close to Alfheim, word would have gotten out and they would''ve been sent as spies or gather intel. This would also align with how they were battle-ready.


    One of them also talked about how dwarves came up to mountains. So, they were already aware that dwarves and demons and trolls are working together. However, since Silverglade''s terrain was somewhat similar to Ulriken in Bergen, they mistook us for intruding into their territory.


    A long sigh escaped my lips.


    I can''t figure out much until we go back. But it would seem like the ''cracks'' that allow people to go from one world to another are very random in a specific area.


    Eric would be given charge of torturing the two girls to gain intel. He is good at what he does. But I hope all of this doesn''t get to him¡­hmm, nevermind.


    Getting a little sentimental over cutting a limb or two isn''t so bad. More pressing matter is that since Aksel is here, the other syndicates may try to remove Eric from the way and steal our accolades. Not that I care about it, however; this way mom''s existence or rather, the extent of her powers would be revealed to everyone.


    Until now she has been advertised as a very frail woman who can''t leave the confines of her house. And since Aksel loves her very much, he refused to take in another woman who would be strong enough to birth more children.


    If she is revealed, things will ¨C in extension ¨C get messy for us. Very messy.


    Power is regulated amongst all the syndicates and whenever one crosses a certain threshold, the others band together to pull them down. Needless to say, there''s a limit to the ''pulling down'' before the one being pulled out declares an all out war.


    Mom is powerful enough to shift the current power dynamics between the Syndicates.


    I do not wish to get into this scuffle.


    However, it could still be covered up, in case mom decided to interfere herself. That would be the personal forces or assassins of every syndicate. This personal task force is composed of arcanum wielding individuals or in some cases, families, that have served as royal servants to the syndicates for aeons now.


    Well, I will cross that bridge when I get to it. There''s always the option to desert the family¡­I think¡­


    Back to my recollection of geography, Central Dominion has further, three¡­dukedoms ¨C for the lack of better words. The three dukedoms being the ones the three demons at the banquet were in charge of.


    Ravenmoor under Malkaroths, Thornwood under Texarions and Valemount under Vorliths.


    There were a lot more details but just remembering the outline of what I had read is fine as it is.


    Totally forgetting I was in Lawold, I looked outside and almost assumed it was nighttime, however, the dull grey shade of the sky made me realise I was wrong. I woke up at 7 AM. If I were to factor in my bathtime, making Astrid''s hair, having lunch, dying multiple times to a book inside my mind (it doesn''t feel good, at all) and the three-hour study of the 10,000 pages book; it would be around 11:30 am or 12 pm by now.


    I still had a lot of time on my hands. Looking over my shoulder, I caught sight of the "Essence Arms" book.


    Well, I guess time to read some more.


    ***********


    Another hour went by in the blink of an eye.


    This time it didn''t take much time to read since it was a book with lesser content. Comparatively, at least.


    ¡ºEssence arms are ''soul-bound'' weapons, made from a rare metal and enchanted by a God''s divinity. It interacts with the soul itself and shapes itself according to the user, hence carrying significant symbolism about a person''s inner self. True self. Zogrates Confederation''s gargantuan forgeries have produced numerous high quality Essence Arms for multiple centuries. Even Lord Brimstone''s Essence Arm¡ª damaged in the war against the abomination Adam¡ªwas made in Zogrates Confederation ~ Section 12: Page 108¡»


    I wonder, if I ever got an essence arm, what would it be?


    A sword, maybe? I hope it''s something efficient.


    I can already see Michael getting a giant, ineffective hammer weighing an imperial ton1.


    As I was musing over the idea, I heard a voice.


    "Like what you''re reading so far?"


    Without turning back, I closed the book and slumped into my seat. "It''s been productive, your majesty."


    Jayden scoffed as he walked over and then went to the other side of the table, facing me. "Formalities are not required, Arthur, it makes me uncomfortable."


    "If you say so."


    His lips quirked up. "You''re quick to come to a conclusion."


    "No use arguing over something so insignificant." I shrugged as a matter-of-factly. My eyes flicked towards his arm and I almost fell down my seat. He was holding the book that had ''killed'' me so many times¡­or at least instilled the sensation of it. "Do you need something from me?"


    "Oh, right, I do!" He suddenly clasped his hands by putting the book down.


    "Talking to you makes me forget the actual agenda, haha!" He let out a pretentious laugh.


    "Err¡­right¡­" I awkwardly shifted into my seat. As he rummaged through his pockets, the ornament on his left horn jingled. It would be wrong to say I was not curious about the book. I would be lying if I said I wasn''t terrified as well.


    However, curiosity is such a bitch sometimes.


    "What is this book about?" I asked, casually.


    "Oh this?" He pointed at it with his nose. "This was a book shelved into the grand library of the Malakars."


    After a while of silence, I broke it. "The family ruling over the Central Dominion before you?"


    "Yes, exactly- by the Hades I swear I put it in this pocket-" He complained as he continued to talk and rummage between his pockets.


    "A thousand or so years ago, yes, they were defeated by my father''s hands. When they rebelled from another place, I was the one who defeated them, since my father had passed away by then. At that time, this was their most protected possession with a series upon series of barrier arcane arts used on it. However¡­"


    He tapped the book with his index finger. "¡­it''s a dead tome. The words written on it are gibberish and undecipherable. The last 3 generations of Malakars were not gifted in their own arcane arts because of some mess-up in their blood contract."


    He continued to explain as he took out an envelope from the pocket on the inside of his coat. "This is common knowledge, so don''t think I am doing you a favour. My favours are pretty extravagant!" As if asking for approval, he paused.


    "Okay¡­" My words drawled as my mind was halved into thinking about the book and then at the possibility of the contents inside the envelope.


    "Well, that wasn''t what I expected. Anyways." He placed the envelope on the table and pushed it towards me before picking up the book.


    "Can I have it?"


    "Pardon?" He stopped in his tracks.


    "Can I have the tome?" I repeated, this time a bit loud.


    "A dead book? You want a dead tome?"


    "Yes. I like collecting useless things and keeping them alongside me."


    He bit down his smirk. "Sounds too impractical to be you."


    "You don''t know anything about me." I shook my head once slightly; subtle, mock amusement.


    "Hah! Alright, have it." He pushed the tome towards me. However, this time the colour of the pages and the words did not alter.


    Was it related to Astrid¡­?


    "Thank you." I picked the tome with a trembling hand and then waved with it at Jayden. He waved back but stopped.


    "Oh yes, I almost forgot, as your father complained as well, but these so-called ''wall clocks'' are not present here. Wait until tomorrow and I will arrange a pocket-watch for the three of you. Speaking of, where is Michael?"


    "Perhaps still enjoying the ''delicacy'' you sent him last night."


    "Did you enjoy it?"


    "I do not indulge myself in such frivolities." I replied and then instantly followed up. "And it''s not because I have a mate."


    "Alright, alright. I will not talk about it anymore." He gave a boyish chuckle before opening the door. Just as he was about to leave, he opened the door once again.


    "Oh yes, I almost forgot again!" His head peeked through the slight opening of the door, making the ornament jingle once again. "Do not break anything after reading the letter, HAHAHA! I will personally kill you!"


    Saying that he happily jogged away.


    How ominous! Telling a 15-year-old that you will kill him! Cruel world we live in!


    Disregarding that, I broke the seal on the envelope before pulling a piece of paper out of it. There were only three lines over them, however, it was enough to make me almost explode.


    The envelope burned as a bolt of lightning shot out of me, involuntarily. Before it could crash into the ''Magic Theory'' shelf, I dispelled it.


    Hahh¡­. Give me a break for once.


    ***


    Imperial Ton = 1,016.05 kilos.


    A/n I wonder what happened.

 59: Mockery.

    Arthur


    The past hour has elapsed in a state of constant consternation.


    If I had to describe my feelings regarding the series of events that have happened in the past 5 hours, there would only be one word; anguish.


    If it was one thing, I could''ve done something about it. However, the nature of the situation has sent me down a spiral of confoundment. I was at a rather weird crossroads; dilemma.


    The first was the weird tome. What I had encountered was not some sort of hallucination, or some trick of mind, no. No one ¨C other than mom ¨C was able to interfere with my perception to this extent. I am confident enough in this aspect of myself.


    That begs the question; What is it? They were too clear and vivid to waive them off as mere recordings and the likes.


    An Arcane Art, perhaps? But that would require someone else to cast it on me. Someone of much a higher sequence. There is also this possibility of integrating an Arcane Art in an object of choice ¨C in this case; a tome.


    And while it could sound hypothetically acceptable, practically it is impossible. Since Arcane Arts carry sentience. Since birth it is a part of a person''s consciousness and it even changes natures as the person grows and matures until the point where the person finally awakens it. And even after that, it is subject to continuous change and evolution ¨C like the Watanabes and Olaniyans.


    Without the node in the brain that is the central hub of the whole body; receiving and sending impulses, it is impossible for an arcane art to activate. Much less be stored in a tome and stay like that for centuries.


    Sounds ridiculous to even think about it.


    However, one can''t deny what they have seen. It was no lie that I had actually seen fragments of¡­memories. From a distant past.


    A past unrecorded and so obscure, that even as those frayed memories settled over my nerves, they were accompanied by an innate sense of dubiousness. Doubt. Lack of clarity.


    It was like seeing the moon with your eyes and the brain recognising it as such, but the heart protesting in a constant denial, perusing you to believe it''s the sun.


    An Arcane Art that stores memories could also be a possibility. But it is so ridiculous that it is better to not ponder much over it.


    Flipping the tome over and over again in my hand, I finally slid it into my bag.


    Currently I was back in the room where I had slept. The foul smell of debauchery was finally gone and I could actually sit. The sheets and even the pillows were removed and new ones were placed instead of them.


    Michael had woken up around 15 minutes ago and was taking a bath right now.


    Astrid was back in her room. I tried to talk to her but it seemed like her cycle this time has made her more cranky than usual.


    All the more reason for me to avoid a feral cat.


    Putting that aside, there was also this issue of ''the letter'' that Jayden had personally arrived to deliver to me.


    I should have guessed something of this nature would happen since he himself came to deliver this instead of letting a servant, however; I wasn''t expecting the two crazy dogs¡ªJayden and Aksel¡ªto actually do, or rather arrange something so ridiculous.


    Taking the letter out of my pocket, I read it once again, to solidify that both of them have gone senile.


    A crumpled piece of wheat coloured paper. The words written in obsidian were dried and no blotches of ink had pressed on the other sides of the paper.


    The words were still as annoyingly clear as the first time I had opened them. (an hour ago)


    ¡ºP¨®st ¨²tum disc¨²ssa cum totus c¨¢pitulum de Central Dominion et cum consensum novum negotium socius - Aksel Olvasen - cons¨ªtamus bind Isolde Cromwell et Arthur Olvasen in tempor¨¢ria rite¡»


    ¡ºHoc providet prom¨ªssa pax venturum et nulla sanguinem effusum dum conj¨²ngimus gentes nostr?. Termini et condiciones hujus sunt consentiens ab utroque Aksel Olvasen et Jayden Cromwell, et ulteriores tractatus tenentur in pr?senti¨¡ Ammara Cromwell et Sif Olvasen¡»


    The words muddled as I saw them through a subdued yet seething rage that clouded my mind for more than just a few fleeting moments. My breath hissed through my teeth as I placed the piece of paper back into my pocket.


    What in the name of everything that is holy does a "Binding Rite" mean!?


    As if the name wasn''t cryptic and ominous enough, I could see my mother''s name at the end as well.


    Nothing good comes out of anything that is related to mother. She is a walking catastrophe.


    *KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!*


    Three, well-timed knocks filled the room as I turned my head towards the door.


    "Come in."


    My voice came out much more churlish and agitated.


    For a few seconds there was no response or action from the other side. I leaned forward and picked the glass of Glyphic Bloom and forced it down my gullet in one go. It was cold, and slightly prickly; however; the effects were instantaneous.


    A slight bonfire ignited within my chest and cranium, fuelled by my arcanum. The burning of arcanum was subtle¡ªI only just realised how it worked. The intoxication wasn''t determined solely by the amount of arcanum, but by its quality. Refined arcanum was harder to break down into fuel for the drink, but the payoff was worth it.


    After a while of silence on the other side, the door opened and gave way to a cool breeze to rush in before dying out at the exact same moment.


    A woman walked in. She was wearing a tightly-fitted tunic.


    Usually, tunics are very comfortable and loose, however; the one she was wearing clung to her body like a second layer of skin, highlighting her modest chest and emphasising her full buttocks.


    Ehm.


    The sleeves were snug and the trousers seemed to be tailored to fit seamlessly into her knee-high leather boots. Dual daggers were strapped securely to her thighs ¨C concealed but easily accessible.


    A leather belt cinched her extremely narrow waist.


    Her long green hair was tied back in a tight bun and the dark green eyes were sharp and vigilant against the backdrop of a prominent scar on her left eye.


    She looked at me, the look of hate and disgust not present at all as she bowed subtly and dipped her head until a few stray locks of her hair spilled forward.


    I felt my brows knit together into a frown.


    "Good morning, Sloane." I greeted the maid who had first welcomed us here, into this castle and showed us our rooms.


    "I am sure you are not here just to bend the knee." I continued as she raised her head back up. And despite the unnecessary choice of words, I could feel no animosity from her. Just a weird, eerie acceptance.


    The corners of her full lips curled into a smile as she cocked her head to the side, subtly. "Lord Cromwell has called for all the heirs ¨C Cromwells and Humans alike to the living room. He awaits your arrival, albeit not as quickly as possible."


    Her arms dangled loosely to the side, hovering just above the daggers strapped to her curvaceo¡ªher thighs. I looked down at them and then back into her eyes.


    As if understanding what I was getting at, she clasped her hands behind her back.


    "Michael is currently taking a bath, so you have to wait quite a bit. Since he has to get some breakfast." I spoke, looking in the bathroom''s direction.


    "Although we will try to arrive as quickly as possible." I added.


    Sloane seemed to have a puzzled look on her face.


    "The Lord has only summoned for the heirs to Cromwells and Olvasens. As far as I am made aware, the human named Michael is not your sibling, or blood related. Hence; I am sure his presence is unrequired." She uttered in a rather mechanical way.


    "And why am I the only one who is required to attend?" I crumpled the piece of paper in my pocket further.


    She raised a brow and then her lips moved, fluttering, most likely from some kind of disbelief. "Are you unaware?"


    "I am unaware of a lot of subjects." I shook my head and taking the support of the armrest of the couch, helped myself up.


    Turning my head towards her, I let out a tired sigh. "And I wish I had stayed unaware about it. Even though it was still going to come, regardless."


    I talked senselessly and surprisingly Sloane seemed to be listening very closely. I could tell she was listening attentively because her features scrunched into that of confusion while listening to me mindlessly ramble an incoherent string of words.


    It was only midday but I was feeling more tired than the time I fought Ed.


    "Lead the way." I spoke, standing right in front of Sloane.


    She looked up at me, her dark green eyes studying me before swiftly turning around. "Let''s not leave the lord waiting for too long."


    Fuu¡­here goes nothing.


    The living room of the castle was much better than what I had expected.


    Tall shelves lined the right walls, each one holding large glass jars.


    Inside these jars there were multiple severed heads of monsters, floating, preserved in a clear liquid that maintained an unnervingly thin layer of flesh over their cranium. And despite the "grim" appearance, the room was filled with an unexpectedly pleasant aroma.


    Like aged whiskey.


    Seems like a place that I will love to spend my weekends in. I mean, there was an eerie allure to this place.


    The hollowed sockets of the floating skulls of vanquished monsters seemed to follow me wherever I went.


    My feet dug into the carpet and my hand ¨C unknowingly ¨C collided with the side of the doorframe. It made a subtle sound, but didn''t reverberate at all. The room was soundproof!


    In a far, distant corner of the living room a throne-like chair of white marble, inlaid with glistening jewels, dominated the space as it seemed to shimmer even in the low light.


    A massive ebony table held the space in front of it. Opposite to the throne on which Jayden was sitting with a neutral expression, sat another chair, less grand but equally imposing.


    It was occupied by a figure engrossed in a book, seemingly oblivious to my arrival.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Letting out a small, controlled sound wave that was calibrated to be only heard by dogs, I stopped in my tracks.


    Aksel shuddered suddenly and his olive irises stared at me from the corner of his eyes, a single spark of lightning coursing through the crystal-clear orbs like the aftermath of a thunderstorm. "I am aware."


    "Just making sure." I lifted my shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.


    "Arthur." Jayden called out for me, the curly locks resting peacefully over his piercing golden eyes that looked right into my own while his chin rested over his interlocked fingers.


    "You are early." He spoke again, his lips hidden underneath his hand as he spoke, causing the voice to come out much more subdued. "I am hoping Sloane did not prompt you to arrive as soon as possible."


    "No¡­not at all." I replied as my thought jolted back to reality from the airheaded state I had occupied for a fleeting moment.


    Taking a careful step forward, I glanced up at the third jar in the fourth column of the decorations'' shelves. The head of something like an Ostrich was floating inside a semi-viscous bubbly liquid. Much like every other one, only a narrow sheen of skin was stretched unnaturally over its cranium.


    But despite the grotesque presentation, it smelled¡­nice. In a way that it makes you want to chug it down in one go. You know, of those days, where all you want to do in the world is consume a whole bottle of some ''beverage''.


    Of course, I am making an analogy I have read somewhere. I, myself, have never felt like this.


    Ehmmm.


    "As a matter of fact, she was lenient. Very lenient." I paused and narrowed my eyes at Jayden whose lips were already curled into a barely perceptible lopsided grin. "Suspiciously so."


    "And why do you think that is?" Jayden asked, raising his brows ¨C acting oblivious.


    "I wonder." I huffed out a half-suppressed scoff, not trying to hide the obvious scorn in my tone. "Definitely nothing to do with the letter written in half-discernible language."


    "Ah, that!" He clicked his fingers. "I was trying to learn!"


    I looked at Aksel who was still reading something. "And teaching Latin was a good idea?"


    He spared a fleeting glance at me. However, he didn''t exactly meet my eyes like he usually used to.


    As if he was¡­guilty about something?


    "Is it not good?" Jayden asked quizzically.


    "Nobody speaks Latin. Anymore."


    "What!?"


    I let out a tired sigh before taking another step which made me stand right in front of a jar that had the head of a shark-like sea creature. There was a strong odour of the ocean coming from it ¨C to no one''s surprise. However, at the same time it smelt like the shark''s head was stuffed with something nutty.


    Kind of an odd combination. Dry nuts inside a sea creature''s head being fermented into some kind of alcoholic beverage.


    "The rarer a language, the more significance it carries." Aksel presented his point.


    Their light-hearted argument fell into an almost muted backdrop as the door opened behind me.


    Following right after were three figures. The young Cromwells.


    All three of them donned simple, black coloured buttoned shirts with a flap of a darker shade of black covering those buttons underneath.


    The older one ¨C Nacht ¨C was in a much more presentable condition with his shirt still tucked into his pants and hardly any sign of sweat.


    The younger one ¨C Lucian, who had fought Michael ¨C was much more dishevelled with his hair haphazardly arranged and one side of his shirt out of his pants. However, there was a calm expression on his face, giving way to very little of the grim frown he was resisting.


    Contrary to his older brother, who was smiling.


    Arriving at the end was their sister ¨C Isolde. She was wearing the same clothes as the rest of the two, however; she smelt more¡­salty?


    Not in a bad way, of course. There was a distinct aroma of her flesh that made it surprisingly pleasing to sniff. Or perhaps it was the perfume she was wearing.


    From first looks it seemed like the siblings had been sparring amongst each other before arriving here. However, when I looked closely, I saw it.


    Isolde had no marks on her body, nor a sign of being roughed up. Whereas Lucian had some serious bruises marks all over his body, some already turning purple. Needless to say, it was quite safe to assume that the smiling older brother who had his hands clasped behind his back was the cause of all this.


    It sometimes makes me appreciate Eric¡­hmm, nevermind¡­he can go to hell for all I care.


    I can already imagine him putting one hand on his heart and the other on his eyes while tilting comically and acting hurt. That damned idiotic clown. Everything about him is so infuriating that I want to punch him to the moon and then leave him stranded there as he dies from the lack of oxygen while drifting away into the cosmos.


    Hmm, why am I so vexxed? He doesn''t matter, so why am I¡ª


    "Haha! It seems like you''ve enjoyed the contents of the letter, Arthur!" Jayden''s voice boomed behind me.


    It was only after I frowned did I realise that I had been unintentionally smiling. The upward curve of my lips turned into a neutral one as I felt my forehead crease.


    What the hell does he mean¡­?


    Not acting like a king at all, Jayden gave out a brattish chuckle. "I can''t blame you. I used to be a very excited young''un when I was your age, or well¡­" he rolled his eyes, as if finding the thought somewhat preposterous, "¡­human equivalent of years."


    "I think there has been an understanding¡ª"


    "But don''t let my utter disappointment make you think you can do as you wish, hmph!" He exhaled through his nose furiously.


    This guy¡­he is doing this on purpose, right? I don''t think there is a way this is unintentional.


    "Brother, what is happening?" Isolde''s oddly tamed, dulcet voice reached my ears as she stopped 3 steps behind Nacht, swiping the small beads of sweat from her face.


    "I was immediately called for something important."


    She stole a fleeting glance at me. "If it''s important, why is the¡­human here?"


    The air of nonchalance around Nacht stayed firm as he looked over his shoulder and down at his sister. "If I knew what it was, would you have found me here? I am not privy to any kind of information. Much like yourself."


    His relaxed golden eyes fell on me, followed by a smirk. "I am assuming it has something to do with both sides; us and Arthur."


    He raised a brow. "Do you think the same?"


    Despite keeping his voice low, it seemed like he was asking me.


    "I suppose so." I gave the bare minimum.


    "It is quite obvious." Lucian''s voice ¨C cold as ice ¨C interrupted as he looked at Isolde with sharpened, and somewhat hateful eyes. "Use your brain a little, you disgrace."


    "Lucian." Nacht''s eyes softened at his brother. "We are in the middle of something."


    "I¡ªhuff¡­" Lucian let out a long sigh, "¡­right, brother."


    Giving a nod, Nacht turned his head towards me. "Apologies, human named Arthur, you had to see an unsightly part of¡ª"


    "Arthur¡­just Arthur is fine." I interrupted with a wave of my hand. "And I didn''t hear anything. So, uhh, you don''t have to, you know¡­"


    He praised a brow and then, as if understanding, he nodded. "Alright, Arthur."


    "Silence. I am talking." Jayden pulled everyone''s attention towards himself. I felt my primary node tremble just from hearing his voice.


    Such was the strength of someone who was much higher than Category 6.


    Enviable.


    Aksel kept the book away and finally turned his attention towards the current scenario. However, even now, he kept his eyes away from me, not meeting them for even a single moment.


    Meanwhile, I could feel Isolde''s gaze burning into me.


    My socially awkward self was reaching a point where I was going to totally lose my mind and either go on a killing spree or get killed. This much attention¡­it''s nauseating.


    "Well, it seems like you were in the middle of your training." Jayden turned his head towards me. "Or other activities."


    I felt Aksel steal a glance at me.


    Come on, you damned elk. Don''t phrase it like that¡­


    Nacht eyed me once and then smirked before turning his head back. Meanwhile ¨C even without seeing ¨C I could already feel the bitter, disgusted glare of Isolde on me.


    I didn''t do it! I didn''t touch no woman!


    I am a devoted worshipper of Goddess Hestia! I would never, ever!


    Ehm, I think that was a bit over the top.


    Hmmm...I might be autistic.


    "Regardless of whatever it was, I will now tell you about the reason." He continued, taking a step out of the confines of the table.


    Standing beside the polished table, he leaned against it and picked a glass of what looked like scotch. "After quite a thorough discussion with my friend¡ª" He pointed at Aksel.


    "¡ªwe have finally come to a decision. Of course, I have not only discussed it with Aksel Olvasen, but also your mother, Ammara, via a letter." He shook his head towards his kids.


    Nacht expressions were attentive but as soon as Jayden said that, Lucian''s icy cold thousand-yard stare transitioned into a series of rapid blinks. As if immediately understanding what was about to happen.


    "At the same time, once the whole barrier that is separating Thal''kresh Desert and half of Central Dominion from the earthen city named Seoul, we will be having a long ''talk'' with Sif Olvasen as well."


    By now it was quite clear and any doubt I had in mind was mitigated.


    And while there are a lot of questions on my mind, only one stands out.


    Why? Do they not know this might ignite civil riots or skirmishes?


    "I have decided to give Isolde to Arthur." He announced and the aftereffects sent a ripple into my heart.


    "Aksel has agreed to it as well. Of course, it is not an engagement that would tie Arthur down but rather a binding rite. For Isolde." He looked at me with a smirk. "Which means you are free to get anyone else." He paused and then looked away with a nonchalant look.


    "As well." He ended.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucian carrying a rather indifferent look on his face. Nacht seemed surprised, and the ever-present smirk on his face was absent.


    "Father¡­.!" The surprise in Isolde''s voice suddenly peaked. Her lips were parted, and her irises were shaking as she stared at Jayden with nothing but a look of sheer disbelief.


    Her skin had turned pale. As if losing strength, her arms that were crossed, fell lifeless on her either side. "¡­how could you? This¡­you can''t!"


    Jayden raised his chin, frowning. A curled lock slightly tapped his forehead as he sat down with a forceful jerk. "I can. And I just did."


    He spoke, the arcanum infused authority in his voice shutting her lips. "Consider this as your punishment."


    "But¡­"


    She was about to speak when Jayden raised his hand. "Have you forgotten the house motto, Isolde?"


    She shuddered and took a step back at his words.


    "Are you unable to recall even the most basic thing, hm? Isolde?" His tone progressively got chagrined as he hardened his gaze on her.


    "Go on. Say it out loud." Jayden repeated, not a semblance of empathy or mercy to be seen in his words, or actions, or his eyes. Just a cold decisiveness.


    Lucian looked back from the corner of his eye, and so did Nacht.


    Isolde''s lips trembled as she looked down, a few locks framing the side of her face as they manoeuvred around the horns that curved downwards from her temples.


    Parting her lips she mumbled in a low tone. "By blood and shadow, I vow: Strength shall be the sole law, conquest my sole destiny. Should defeat ever find me, I shall die or¡­ bend the knee."


    "I shall fear no enemy, and never suffer defeat. I shall yield only to might mightier than my own. This is my oath as a Cromwell; conceived in darkness, bound by fire. By blood and shadow, I vow, I vow...I vow."


    Her words trailed off.


    "This is clearly a hyperbole." I interjected this time, causing everyone to look at me with surprise.


    Aksel took a deep breath and frowned, without looking at me.


    "Hyperbole?"


    "Exaggerated method of speech." I took a step forward, standing in the same line as Lucian with a little distance between us. "And besides."


    I felt my eyes sharpen. "Are you trying to make a mockery out of me?"


    Jayden''s brow raised and Aksel finally looked at me as well. "I do not understand."


    His brows raised right after as he realised something. "Oh. You mean¡­" he cocked his head to the side, "¡­she''s beneath you."


    "Am I wrong?"


    "You''re not."


    "Then why?" I continued. "You are the ruler and they are the potential heirs. No one would know about her loss."


    "You''re not wrong. However, contrary to what you said, the ''oath'' is not a hyperbole, in your own humanly words." He tapped at the translucent insignia carved into the table which became visible only after he had touched it.


    Interesting.


    "Oaths, to us; demons mean more than our lives. A promise made is a promise made. Defying a promise, much less an oath passed down for generations would incur the wrath of Hades upon us." As he said his name, Jayden placed a hand on his chest.


    "May he preserve us."


    "Let it be."


    "Let it be."


    "Let¡­it be."


    A chorus of what I presumed was an alternative of "amen" on earth, left their lips.


    "Well, as I was saying, oaths mean a lot to us. And as you heard, losing would result in only two things. And both are by the hands of the victor who secures the victory against a Cromwell."


    He paused and then stood up again. "Take the sword, and remove her head. Or do as we ¨C your father, me and my wife ¨C have proposed."


    I slightly turned my head towards Isolde.


    Her face was flushed with embarrassment and she was gritting her teeth, the golden orbs shining with an almost palpable bloodlust.


    It was still a bit jarring. I was expecting the cultural hate to overthrow the general rules.


    Is it because of Hades? The Greek god of the underworld?


    Is he interfering with them? I mean, I did read that gods are presiding over each realm, but is their involvement tangible?


    "An heir who can''t even defeat an age fellow human, of all things¡­" He paused and rolled his eyes, "...or age equivalent, then she is not worthy to be an heir at all." He announced.


    "And if, as a Cromwell, you have no right to the throne, you are not a Cromwell. Good as dead."


    Despite his usually goofy temperament, the ideals with which Jayden operated were very strict and rigid. Good thing he is a member of a mediaeval world or he would have been "cancelled" by the intellectual behind keyboards on the internet.


    Since recently ''you''re cancelled'' is in trend. Uh¡­I hope I am not following a 10 year old trend¡­again.


    I was brought out of my crippling dilemma with a forceful stomp of foot from Isolde as she took the knife out of her back. "Kill me."


    Her voice echoed in the sudden stillness of the room. "I will rather die than be defiled by a human."


    "Isolde." A heavy veil of arcanum pressed down on her, however; even though I wasn''t targeted, I felt my knees go weak.


    Even Nacht was employing a little arcanum to keep himself straight, beads of cold sweat running on his forehead.


    "You are not permitted to talk, Isolde. The oath is final. We live by the oath, and die by it. To stand against it or try to interfere in its natural flow is blasphemy." He raised his hand and pointed his index finger down as she fell down to her knees. "Do you want to be burnt in the middle of Lawold?"


    It was quite impressive how she wasn''t letting out a single groan or whimper. Her pale neck was straight but strained. As if refusing to bend her head.


    Jayden turned his head towards me. "So?"


    I let out a shaky breath. Well¡­isn''t this a pinch?


    "No matter what I do, it will result in strained relationships." I started speaking, trying to mitigate the situation. "It doesn''t matter what scenario it is, be it the demon princess dying at a mudwalker''s sword or warming his bed, it will result in civil riots."


    I felt Isolde''s crouching figure lower even further. "I was guessing our stay here was supposed to clear up the drudgery relationship between the species. Not aggravate it."


    As if he was expecting this, Jayden extended his arms to the side and smirked. "Arthur. I had assumed you would have understood by now."


    He spoke, the curly locks becoming more dishevelled by the second as the gel or whatever alternative he was using was losing control. "We do not exist as a¡ªoh dear Hades¡­" he paused and looked back awkwardly. "¡­what was that word you used, my dear friend Aksel? Hurry up or I will lose face!"


    "Democracy."


    "Yes, that!" He turned back to me. "We do not exist as a democracy."


    Arcanum made his eyes glow eerily. "We are not the subjects here. We do not serve the commoners. They serve us."


    Well, that doesn''t answer anything¡­


    "Now, Arthur." Not giving me a moment to respond, he spoke again. "It''s either the sword or the rite."


    I looked down once again. Isolde was looking up at me, a tangible layer of arcanum pinning her down in a kneeling position.


    "I¡ª" I paused. I shouldn''t make haste. However, there is no real benefit in saving her. Killing her off without the news spreading like wildfire is the most viable option.


    Her slit eyes were focused on me; hatred and defiance more potent than ever.


    Hmm. Yeah, keeping someone like her around is a hazard.


    "Have you decided?"


    "Yes."

 60: Delusions.

    The sky was dark, as usual. Nothing new.


    The only thing that was different amidst this never changing clear, yet evil sky was the disposition of people underneath it, or more specifically; around me. Myself, included.


    Rage, unbottled.


    They say that if you clamp your feelings inside your head and heart for too long, much like any other thing, the pressure will keep building until even the mildest of agitations, variation in the normal course of daily, day-to-day activities will cause it to erupt like a super volcano.


    *Fuuu*


    The cloud of cigarette smoke left my lips as I scratched my forehead with my thumb, the blotches of blood still clear, and very pungent. However, the usual company of guilt, regret and disgust towards myself and the subject was absent.


    The cruel mistress had refused to entertain me today. Or was it me who had pushed it away so much that nothing could quell this gnawing bitterness, anguish in me. Not anymore; not at this moment, at the very least.


    Without leaving the support of the wall, I dusted off the ash from my cigarette, and rubbed it down. The sound of cigarette sizzling against flesh, melting the topmost layer and marring it filled the air, followed by a blend of the signature aromas of the nicotine, tar and human flesh.


    I looked from the corner of my eye, and the man nailed to the wall was unmoving, his eyes unfocused, distant. Vacant. Even fear of pain, which had filled his entire being until a moment ago, was nowhere to be seen.


    I flicked the ash away, letting it drift down like dust on a forgotten tomb. The ember on the tip was still aglow, albeit; faint. I removed it slowly, savouring the hiss as it pulled free from the charred flesh.


    A low, guttural moan escaped his cracked lips, but it was weak¡ªa sound that spoke of a soul on the brink of surrender.


    ''Alive.'' I mused, half ecstatic.


    ''Thank you, Goddess¡­'' A breathless thought.


    I leaned in close, my breath cold against his clammy skin.


    His eyes, those vacant windows, barely reacted as I brought the cigarette to his face. Slowly, deliberately, I pressed the burning tip against his eyelid, the thin skin sizzling as it met the heat. The sharp scent of singed hair filled the room.


    For a moment, there was no sound, just the crackling of flesh beneath the smouldering tip. Then, a muffled scream, broken and pitiful, clawed its way from his throat.


    His features didn''t move much, but reflexively, his body jerked in a pathetic attempt to pull away, but my slightly grown nails held firm from the flesh on his face, pinning him.


    Reminded me of all the butterflies Arthur and¡­hmm, maybe one of his childhood friends, used to have. Alive, writhing in pain, sewn by metallic strings.


    The man''s eye twitched violently beneath the cigarette, and a tear ¨C perhaps the last he would ever shed ¨C ran down his soiled cheek, mixing with the blood and grime.


    I pulled the cigarette away, the burnt skin clinging to the ember for a heartbeat before tearing free, leaving behind a blackened, puckered wound. He half-gasped, the air rasping through his lungs.


    "I¡ªI''ll talk¡­"


    But something snapped inside me, a thread pulled too tight and now fraying beyond the edge of sanity.


    My blood, already boiling, curdled. Without thinking¡ªno, without caring¡ªthe tip of my boot shot forward, and I felt it sink into his chest. The sensation was gaudy, the ribs yielding to a sickening sound as bone shattered and skin split.


    I could feel the impact as it drove through his body and then hit the surface behind, pinning him against the wall like a discarded rag.


    And then he was dead. His head lolled to the side; his mouth still half-open in a silent scream. I had killed him. The realisation should have hit me like a wave, should have made me recoil in horror. Disgust.


    But it didn''t. Instead, there was a cold, numbing satisfaction, a sense of release that spread through me like poison.


    It didn''t feel bad. The thought echoed in my mind, a whisper that grew louder with every passing second in this new reality.


    Was it the smothering blanket of rage that dulled the edges of my moral conflict? Stifled the screaming of my nigh-shattered psyche?


    I don''t know. I can''t tell. Everything was hazy, distorted, like looking through a cracked mirror. It was hard to think, hard to feel.


    But the pain¡­ the pain was there, pulsing just beneath the surface. Not sharp or piercing, but padded and suffocating, like a hand pressing down on a wound, never letting it breathe, never letting it heal.


    It drove me to the brink of madness, this pain, but never fully released me. It clung to me, dragging me down into a place I hadn''t known existed, but much to my own horror, it did.


    I didn''t know I was capable of this kind of rage. In truth, I hadn''t known I was capable of any rage at all. I had always seen myself as controlled, composed¡ªa person who could walk through fire and emerge unscathed.


    But now, this fire that urged violence was inside me.


    And worst of all, I wasn''t sure I wanted it to stop.


    The spillage of blood. The stench. It wasn''t revolting. It wasn''t. And it was scary.


    Casting one look at the dead man, I looked back over my shoulder.


    "Jack." I called out.


    "Yes, young master." The reply came almost instantaneously.


    "Dispose of him." I commanded; a cold, unwanted edge to my baritone.


    "And ship his head to Melbourne. The address is on the table." I continued.


    "As you command, young master Eric." Jack spoke and walked past me.


    The sound of sword, or knife, or whatever was faint against the headache. And then Jack was carrying the scarred head of the man with him before placing it in a giant, square shaped metallic box.


    "Hey Jack." I called out, my voice quivering.


    He didn''t turn until he had completely packed the head. Then turning towards me, he slightly bowed.


    "Yes?"


    The seething rage was there, and it was quelling everything else, yet, I felt like asking something.


    "This is not like me, right?" I asked through clenched teeth.


    "The lady will be proud, young master." He replied, looking me right into the eyes.


    Right¡­


    ¡­it has always been like this. We are alive to serve the lady.


    "Hm. Thanks." I replied, turning away from him.


    He picked the box and moved in my direction, towards the door.


    The bolt was undone and he took a step out. However; he turned and I felt a hand on my shoulder. Squeezing it lightly, he got closer.


    "You''re better, my dear student." He whispered, in fear, as if talking a touch louder would kill him.


    "Calm down. Nothing of what you did will change the humanity inside you."


    I turned around and saw his dark eyes looking at me with an affection so pure that I had never seen it before. Almost like a father''s.


    "You are the most human here." I felt the tip of his nose go red as he punched my chest.


    "Be proud of that."


    Despite being shorter, he grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me down, headbutting me ever-so-slightly. "Back to your senses, boy."


    A little breathlessly, I choked out a sob. "Mhm."


    He sniffled and pointed at his head. "Don''t lose it." He spoke before bowing his head. "Praise the lady."


    I scoffed and waved my hand as he took his leave too.


    No way I was going to say that.


    Without washing my hands, I took my phone out, half expecting a text, or anything. But all I saw was a notification from DNB, Oslo branch.


    Hmm.


    It has been two days since the assassination attack.


    With Jack''s arrival on time, I was saved. And we had captured a few of the attackers.


    Other than me, there were around 7 of them who had attacked the residence too, however; they were made quick work of by mom. 6 out of 7 were captured while the seventh escaped.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Mom said it was an artefact since it completely wiped the man''s arcanum signature. While she did throw a fit of anger and utmost frustration, the situation of Arthur and dad both disappearing along with the American heir made her not think much about it.


    I have been tasked with handling this matter. I decided to not get ahead of myself, since she gave me this vital responsibility only because we are low on people who can handle this.


    Of course, I had also found out who these assassins belonged to. Most of this attack force comprised people from the same family, north of Queensland, Australia. Which meant the Andersons were involved in this.


    That begs the question, are they alone involved in this? Or are Whites and Olaniyans also behind this?


    I had heard Africa had always chosen to adopt a very neutral standpoint; less neutral than us, but still the middle grounds. They were self-serving, much like us, however; they used their wealth to build their own family, not the continent as a whole.


    Whereas the Olvasens have put more focus on developing the continent, or rather, the immediate area of control as much as they could.


    So, it means Andersons either did it by themselves in a quick moment of greed, or did it on Whites'' orders.


    I don''t really care much about the politics, but making me do something I had wished I never do, and attacking my girlfriend as well was something I couldn''t ignore. At the same time, the rage inside me was ignited because of my own powerlessness.


    I had barely defeated a few red cloaks. What was I even going to do? A single white cloak might end me. Much less the heir or the lord.


    Is it a good choice to send the head to Australia?


    A moment of rationality amidst the rage sparked some kind of sense into me, and I reconsidered everything I had done until now.


    "Fuck it, we ball." I spoke out loud, as I took another cancer stick out of the pack in my pocket and brought it to my lips.


    "You act weird, human." A voice, much healthier than before, spoke.


    "Pathetic as well." She continued.


    "Not right now, elf. I am not in the mood to entertain you." I brushed off and got out of the room that was heavy with the metallic tang of blood and stench of bodily fluids.


    The door closed behind me as I looked at the plethora of people waiting outside. They were looking at me with an expression that was an alchemy of many emotions.


    Already agitated, I frowned at the one nearest to me.


    "What?" I snapped.


    Deep down, I felt bad, however; anything that barely had some connection to rationality was being targeted and waved off as something I had to avoid.


    "I¡ªI, we are here for the cleanup¡­as you required."


    I looked back at the closed door. I had been taking care of the elf after she revealed the difference in passage of time in Eden. Mom didn''t seem to mind ¨C or care, most likely the latter ¨C so I continued the practice.


    Don''t get me wrong, I am not showing her sympathy. I am sure they would''ve done worse to Arthur ¨C Goddess forbids ¨C if he had been captured like this. However, this was just another act of satisfaction for my sense of self.


    Until now.


    "Leave it." I spoke and started to walk towards the stairs that led upwards.


    "She''s been acting too spoiled lately. One day of living in dirtiness won''t do anything." I ordered as they nodded their heads before wishfully looking at the door once and following me.


    She needs to know she''s a captive. Not an honourable guest.


    Biting away the biting discomfort, I walked upstairs and out of the damned house.


    Even staying there felt suffocating.


    After I reached the front door, I looked back, half hoping the white furball would tackle into me and complain about its actual owner not visiting her in years. I waited a few minutes for my best friend, but¡­


    A jolt of pain went down my chest as I turned away.


    May Goddess Hestia bless you.


    I chanted silently before leaving the veil of suffocating anguish behind.


    ----------------------------


    *********Fjellborg*********


    3rd person POV:


    Arcanum banged on the bunker walls like the clubbing of a suffocating man and the following moment Finn, Dotun, Zara and Trisha were thrown in every direction like discarded pieces of junk.


    The bunker absorbed the impact, however; each and every bone in their body was screaming in extreme anguish.


    Maria was standing in the middle of the room, her whole-body quivering from pain. Despite being down to one knee, she refused to completely fall down, her alit grey eyes focused solely on the man in front of them.


    "Dear young lords." The one to talk was a man clad in all black as his slit amethyst eyes focused narrowly on all heirs.


    "With the incoming dangers, you are bound to face enemies who''s arcanum amounts are enough to compensate for the disparity in technique mastery and martial arts. Or the lack of a weapon." He explained, pointing his index finger out.


    "So far you have only faced people ¨C your personal instructors who, at first, were scared to hurt you and now, having limited knowledge of their arcane arts or none at all, are unable to keep up with you." He continued, taking out another finger, as if making points.


    A plethora of groans escaped everyone''s lips.


    "The concept of pain has been unknown to you." Albert continued.


    "Until now that is, fufu." He snickered to himself as Finn groaned.


    Dotun was back to his feet as he stood up and dusted his clothes. Apart from Maria, he was the least harmed so far. It was not a sign of his strength but it was more attributed towards his ability to read between Albert''s moves, and where he was holding back.


    "This is some bullshit, this is." Zara complained.


    "For real for real."


    "Come on, don''t say that out loud, you bitch."


    Albert''s smile widened as another blunt blade of arcanum smacked them from upside, crushing their bodies down.


    Maria and Dotun rolled away just in time, and while Finn changed his own axis, the area of effect was too great for him.


    "God damn it, fuck¡­" He moaned, feeling the clawing arcanum from Albert, pinning him in place.


    "Well, as I was saying, since the concept of pain eludes you." He extended his arms to the side. "I will introduce a new, wonderful world of pain for each and every one of you. Equally."


    Albert sneered, his teeth flashing. "Come now, children of Adam."


    A blood red sword suddenly manifested out of thin air, forming itself in the blink of an eye.


    "Well, that''s troublesome." Dotun commented.


    "It is¡­" Maria let out a breathless agreement. Arcanum was bloating underneath her skin, ready to explode. While Dotun was analysing Albert''s body movements.


    ''Baggy clothes. It''s hard to see or discern which movement is a bluff and which one is the real one.'' He glanced in Maria''s direction. ''She''s our best bet in landing a hit on Albert. If I can make her land a hit¡­maybe we all can get a few hours of sleep.''


    He tried to string his thoughts together.


    After the disappearance of Arthur, Michael and Aksel, everyone has been nervous and somewhat rattled. Albert decided to at least train the heirs so they can survive the multiple challenges that Eden had to offer. Training the lords could come later.


    Albert moved, and his arcanum wiped itself off the face of the earth for a few passing seconds.


    And despite it being only one second, it felt like minutes inside their mind.


    "Cover!" Maria called out as a dense layer of arcanum formed over and around her, and then another, compacting over each other.


    What seemed like robotic bugs crawled out of Dotun''s skin with small antennas jutting out of their heads. Something akin to plasma crackled from one bug to another, until it had formed a net of protection around him.


    Layers of arcanum started to coat Zara, Trisha and Finn.


    Finn flicked his hand and the world around him flipped upside down, as he was now standing upside down on the roof.


    ''Surely he won''t be going after me out of every--''


    "You are predictable, young master." Albert exclaimed and the following moment the blood red hilt of his sword drove into Finn''s arcanum augmented midsection. His eyes rolled back and then he was hurtling downwards like a brick.


    Trisha moved in and a breeze of arcanum broke Finn''s fall.


    "What the hell are you doing Trish--" Zara was screaming at her, however; her own scythe moved backwards, blocking Albert''s strike.


    "Not bad, miss Zara." Albert complimented. His sword liquified and the sudden change in state caused Zara''s scythe to go off-course. She took a wobbly step forward and Albert hit the back of her head with his hilt, causing her to fall on the floor.


    As Trisha adjusted Finn, Albert moved once again, swinging his sword at the two, however; Maria arrived and placed her hand on Albert''s wrist, her long blonde ponytail frolicking.


    [Phase 1: Mergulhe]


    The force behind Albert''s blow dissipated to nothingness as she turned around and tried to punch him. Smiling to himself, Albert weaved into her blind spot and balled his hand into a fist before striking her.


    A long claw suddenly grabbed Albert''s hand. His eyes flicked to the side, as he saw Dotun, trying to hold him off.


    "Do it!" Dotun cried out.


    Maria''s hand was aglow in a light blue light as she placed her palm on Albert''s mid-section.


    [Liberar]


    An explosion echoed, causing a plume of smoke to rise upwards.


    Both Dotun and Maria jumped back, standing a few feet away from each other, however, the two of them couldn''t help but steal nervous glances at each other, despite the tension between their families.


    Albert chuckled as he walked out of the smoke. "Not bad, but Miss Maria, do you know why you could land that attack on me?"


    "Because Dotun helped me?" She tilted her head quizzically.


    Albert''s light-hearted laughter ceased suddenly. "No. It was pity."


    His eyes started glowing. "I let you land an attack out of pity."


    Her hands balled into fists.


    "Do not let him play with you." Dotun interjected, his eyes calm, and hyper-focused due to the presence of ambient lighting.


    Maria glanced at him and then breathed out before getting into stance once again. She looked at Dotun once.


    "Thanks."


    "No need." Dotun waved it off. "I just want someone to land a hit so we can finally get some food and rest."


    Maria let out a chuckle. "You''re too ambitious." She commented as she looked at Albert''s serious, hard expression. "As if he''s letting us land a hit on him until we faint ourselves."


    "Sounds illogical, and for that exact reason, very believable."


    Albert was the first to move, interrupting their talks and the bunker was once again a cacophony of sounds, each one indistinguishable from the other.


    Behind a glass screen were Blake Anderson and Kwame Olaniyan, overlooking the practice.


    Blake was watching the practice with a rather troubled look and his heel was tapping against the ground anxiously.


    "Your boy is smart." He complimented.


    Kwame''s dark eyes looked at Blake. "Are you sure you want to compliment me while you have so much on your plate which needs your attention?"


    Blake sighed. "Nothing is going to happen¡­I am sure of it. That bastard Aksel is done for as well."


    Kwame shook his head. "The Olvasens are the sole worshippers of Hestia. Her divine mural would''ve shattered by now if he was dead."


    "His son is alive. That is all we need to worry about." The tapping of his heels got stronger. "I''ll send the white cloaks right from the get-go this time."


    Kwame''s nose scrunched. "Don''t embarrass yourself any further. You are putting your arm in the lion''s mouth, Blake." Kwame''s voice raised.


    "On the slightest chance that Aksel is alive, or even if his son- Arthur is, there''s nothing but ruin waiting for you." He shook his head and placed his hand on Blake''s shoulder. "It''ll all be nothing but oblivion."


    "Bullshit." Blake''s vein popped.


    "They don''t have an order of cloaks. His older son is a waste with no arcane art and his wife is a sickly woman who hasn''t left her bed for ages now. As good as dead! One man isn''t alone to end me and the hundreds in my command."


    "Oh? His wife and son are useless? Then tell me how your entire order of red cloaks was wiped? And the one who has returned has lost all his memories? He can''t remember his own name!" Kwame was getting increasingly agitated. "How is that possible in the presence of someone who doesn''t have an art and someone who''s on her deathbed, huh?"


    Blake took a giant sip of his drink. "I am figuring it out. Most likely Arthur killed Michael and is still roaming on earth, making people think he''s vanished."


    Kwame looked at Blake''s drunk state with pity. "This is pointless."


    He stood up and began to leave.


    "Lawrence will know about this Kwame." Blake''s half-scared threat stopped Kwame.


    "He does not own me." Kwame looked down on Blake and raised his nose. "We are in a business relationship. Unlike you, he does not own my honour down."


    A frown formed on Kwame''s face. "I had agreed to the partnership for the sole reason of not wanting to enter a clash between the Olvasens and Whites. I had agreed with Lawrence that in exchange for natural resources in Africa, he would provide protection and in return we would share nothing else."


    Blake wanted to talk but Kwame continued. "Unlike you, who has given control of the sword looming over your neck to Lawrence, I hold my own will. So, think twice before threatening me again."


    Kwame spoke with pure words- no leakage of arcanum, no bloodlust, no display of anger, nothing. Just a factual argument.


    "You shall deal with the Olvasens yourselves, if they are alive." Kwame spoke as he started to close the door behind himself.


    "My family has suffered enough as collateral between those two titans."


    Saying that, he left the room, leaving Blake alone.


    "Damn it¡­" He mumbled, looking at the practice with an agitated expression.


    "What the fuck am I supposed to do now¡­?"


    He spoke to himself.


    "Who knew they had someone so strong there¡­it has to be that arrogant brat, Arthur!" He continued in a drunk state. "That little demon. Did he actually kill Michael? I should tell Lawrence about it!"


    As if coming with a very "wise" plan, he picked his phone up.


    "If I tell him I have a good enough theory, he will wipe out the Olvasens himself! Hahaha!"


    "Damn you, Kwame! Running with your tail between your legs!"


    Laughing to himself, he called Lawrence''s number.

 61: A Dark Blur.

    Arthur:


    "Oh yeah, baby! This is bussin''!" Michael breathed out through his stuffed mouth, spilling morsels everywhere as he shoved another piece of meat down his gullet.


    "Ew. You are so gross." Astrid took a step away from him, dodging the bits of pieces that had managed to escape from his jammed mouth.


    "Oh, fuck off, if your lover wasn''t here, you''d be raw dogging that meat, and you know it." He barked at her, swinging the giant bone around as he did.


    A smirk formed on his face. "Oh wait, is he still your lover after he cheated on you? Damn, I''d need some tea to go along with this succulent delicacy, muahaha!"


    "Grrr¡ªit''s nothing like that¡­" Her clear blue eyes stole a glance at me before looking away. "¡­all you talk about is absolute shit anyways."


    Letting out a long sigh, I looked up at the grey sky and adjusted the brooch shaped artefact over my robe before giving a shake to my head and adjusting my hair.


    We were currently in the ''commoner''s district'' of Lawold. All of us were using an artefact that made us look like we had quite long horns which helped us in melding in quite nicely.


    Other than the difference in natural appearances, demons seemed to be no different than humans. Unlike the rumours and folklores, demons are not evil beings. As a matter of fact, so far, I have not seen a single person do anything offensive; by the local law of course.


    The so-called ''commoner''s district'' was only common in name. I am quite sure that if humans from this era were to suddenly teleport here, they would most likely call it a ''utopia.''


    There were signs everywhere indicating the mode of conduct along with a small number at the end as well. Turns out it is the ''infraction fees'' and ''heavy citations'' that had held everything in the correct places.


    The bin to our right had ''7 cinders'' written on it, which meant that throwing rubbish around would result in an infraction fee of 7 cinders.


    In Helheim, the highest denomination of currency is the Glimmerstone or GS, for short.


    The Glimmerstone is a valuable currency, often used for major transactions such as purchasing large estates, securing powerful artefacts, or brokering high-level agreements between powerful entities. It would make sense why entry into that military encampment cost around or more than 2 GS whereas 1 GS could buy you a house.


    Glimmerstones only come in a denomination of 1. Each glimmerstone coin is translucent and has a sapphire flame insignia in the centre of it. A commoner more or less never sees a glimmerstone in his or her lifetime.


    One Glimmerstone is then equivalent to 100 Diadems; the next tier of currency. Diadems come in denominations of multiples of 20; 20, 40, 60, 80 and 100.


    Following it is Vulcanite which is what''s widely circulated among the middle and upper classes for everyday high-value purchases, such as quality weapons, materials, and substantial services. It is the currency of merchants, skilled craftsmen, and lesser nobility.


    One diadem is equal to 100 Vulcanites, ensuring that substantial wealth can be broken down into more manageable units. They come in denominations of 1 and 2 iron coins and multiples of 10 banknotes; 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90 and 100.


    Beneath the Vulcanites are Terras ¨C a common currency used by the general populace for daily transactions, including food, clothing, and other necessities. One vulcanite converts into 100 Terras, making it accessible for routine trade and commerce. The denominations for this one are the same as vulcanite.


    At the base of the system are the Cinders, the smallest and most abundant form of currency, used for the smallest purchases, such as basic provisions, minor goods, and services. One terra equals 100 cinders. They only come in denominations of 1 cinder coin.


    If you look carefully at it, the structure of this currency is very well balanced. And the infractions levied are in equilibrium as well. While it may look less, the average salary of a commoner in the lowest stratum, a general labourer, is around 50 cinders per day.


    A loaf of stale bread which could be cut in 7 pieces of decent sized bread costs 15 cinders. And to add something on top like butter or jam costs around 30 cinders per jar which contains around 300 ml of content. Leaving the person with a 5 cinder as savings.


    While this may have been counted as savings, there are a lot of other things to consider as well such as the rent and a few other things such as the quarterly security fees ¨C which is paid as a homage to the platoon of soldiers named ''Border''s Shield'' who guard the high rising city wall and the bridge that connects the commoner''s side with the official part of Lawold.


    There is also another brigade which acts as police, maintaining law and order and mitigating skirmishes. Border guard costs a cinder per resident, while the brigade that deals directly with citizens costs 1 cinder per two people for one month.


    Since the security fees are based on the number of people, the population control of Lawold is also immaculate. People usually do not conceive more than 2 children in their potentially thousands of years of life.


    I am ignorant on this topic but from a personal standpoint, anything less than 10 is just lame.


    Hmmm¡­maybe this is why the other species wanted to kill us all those years ago¡­


    Anyways.


    "Hey Arthur¡­it''s not true right?"


    I was brought out of my thoughts as I heard Astrid''s voice next to me.


    "Hm?" I hummed out in confusion. "You were saying?"


    Using a paper to wipe the wet blotch of red spice from her lips, she spoke again. "Are you¡­dating her? And if not, why is she even here!? Didn''t they try to kill you!? Us?!"


    She pointed behind me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Isolde look away with a rather haughty expression.


    "Things happened." I replied, scratching my neck. "But no, I am not dating her. She''s bound to serve me, however; I''d release her after the minimum required period of serving." I finished, taking a sip of the extremely bitter black liquid.


    It was not coffee, or tea; or anything on that matter. But the effects it had on my brain were magical. A little ''arcanic'' if you would. Ehm¡­


    "And why is she serving you?" Astrid''s crystal blue eyes narrowed at me.


    "She lost the duel, remember? Turns out they have a ''if we lose, we serve the victor'' policy. Nothing more, nothing less." I reassured her once again.


    Taking a step forward, Astrid grabbed a hold of my robe and twisted it. "Yes; nothing more, nothing less. Don''t let me catch you lacking."


    "Lacking? I don¡ªoh, you mean that."


    I understood the slang this time around! Character development!


    "Yes, absolutely!" She moved back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips and frowning deliberately.


    "I''d tap, I''m not gonna lie." Michael interjected, letting out a long, content sigh. "As a matter of fact, I''d fuck her to death!"


    "Geez. You''re such a scum¡­" Astrid shuddered.


    "What? Not my fault I am more masculine than your lover boy over there."


    "It''s not a matter of me lacking masculinity." I interjected with a sigh.


    Why does he think I don''t have interest in women or lack masculinity?


    "Then what?"


    "The thought of intimacy with just anyone is absurd to me."


    "Blah blah blah. Alright old man. Fasten a chiton and go work with those monks in sky temples or something." Waving his hand, he turned around. "I''ll be around the corner. Eating, for now."


    A rather mischievous grin appeared on his face. "If ya don''t got a use for that gal, pass it over, muaha!" Cackling to himself, he turned around the corner and went deeper into the food market.


    "Another day of realisation that I can never get used to this guy." Astrid sighed, shaking her head. "Thank heavens you found me. I can''t imagine what would''ve become of me if I had fallen into the hands of someone like him."


    She shuddered.


    "Hmm, I mean-" I started to speak. "-you are not that safe with me either."


    She looked at the selection of skewered meats. "I don''t mind."


    "What¡­?"


    Astrid flustered. "I-I meant, I don''t think you will do anything of the sorts¡­we''ve been together for more than 2 years, y-you know, haha¡­"


    Standing by her side, I pierced the square-shaped, bite-sized piece of meat along with the black coloured bell pepper with a toothpick and ate it. The flavour of the bell pepper was quite similar to the ones we have on Earth, the meat, however; was something entirely different.


    But given how we had experienced so many meats so far¡ªone of them being the Wyrm''s meat¡ªI am not surprised at all. And while it does feel chewy sometimes, the natural flavour of the meat is very strong. Not to mention its smell.


    Even underneath the plethora of Eden-ic spices, I could smell the strong aroma.


    "We were kids back then." I replied to Astrid, and then paused, slowly chewing the food. Feeling it roll up and down in my mouth, it made the back of my throat and the tip of my tongue burn a little. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that amplified the flavour.


    Who said Europeans can''t have spice?!


    "What are you trying to i-imply!"


    "Nothing. I am¡ª"


    I was about to talk when the hooded figure¡ªwho was silent until now¡ªcame up to me.


    "How long do you intend to keep me here? It reeks¡­" Isolde''s voice trailed off as the man making the skewers shot a glare at her.


    She wore a full black robe and a cape that covered her face and horns. Since her second pair of horns were shorter, they were well hidden with the cape that covered more than half of her face.


    "I am not keeping you here." I replied, as a matter-of-factly.


    "After some talks and finding loopholes, it turns out I can release you. However, there is a period of definite service that you must serve." I explained.


    Astrid closed in as well, trying to hear what I was saying. However, since she can''t understand Abrahamic, she let out a grumbling moan and went back, ordering the same tea-coffee or whatever it was.


    "That period is 1 month. I have no idea how time works here, so I am sure that the only way your family won''t be smitten by Hades is to wait for a month and let things flow naturally."


    I took a whiff of the pungent air, laced with the smell of gunpowder, oil and poverty. "And preferably keep your mouth shut as well. I am sure you have nothing but curses in stock for me, so do yourself a favour."


    "You¡ª" She looked around and then pulled her hood even lower. "Do you not have an ounce of common sense, human? Do not talk about such matters in the public."


    I shrugged my shoulders before taking a bite out of what looked like a miniature version of a taco, but made out of rice. "None of them can hear what we are talking about right now."


    Reducing unaugmented sound waves to a whisper was not a hard task, after all.


    "Rude. Talk in a language I can understand naaaaaaa~" Astrid groaned with a stuffed mouth.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Sometimes she feels like a blessing. Sometimes¡­yeah, sometimes things are better off unsaid.


    After a moment of getting nothing but silence, both chatterboxes started to distract themselves with other activities.


    A few minutes passed and Astrid looked back at me. "Hey, can I wander off a little?"


    "A little."


    "A little, hehe!" She giggled before turning around.


    "Do you have some currency to spend?"


    Running in place without moving, she hastily looked back. "Nope. But I won''t be buying anything¡ª"


    Such a blunt lie. She''s a girl. Of course she will say this and whine about how I should''ve been considerate later.


    Without wasting words, I threw one of the two pouches I had received in exchange for the knives and vases I had "borrowed" from Jayden''s castle. I won''t justify my actions, however; that elk looking rascal deserved it. No matter what anyone says.


    As I saw Astrid run off, I turned back around. Looking at Isolde, I gestured with my head. "Let''s go."


    "I will burn you to your bones, human." She bristled.


    "You do not even deserve to talk to me, much less order me around." She continued, seething through her teeth.


    "Unless you want me to slap your teeth out, do not utter another word, girl." I flicked my hand and motioned for her to follow me. Not looking behind, or making any attempt to gauge her reaction, I continued walking.


    The clamouring of patrolling soldiers, sizzle of food, clanking machinery and heavy grunting of workers coupled with loud but tired strings of curses drowned out the heavy, grumpy¡ªpretentious footfalls of Isolde who followed me after a brief moment of contemplation.


    If I was in her shoes, I would have silently followed the one in control of me too. It applies more to a sheltered princess who hasn''t had a taste of the real world; staying cooped up inside her giant mansion, miles away from difficulties of the world.


    Of course, even the castle itself had its own sets of problems, and seeing how desperate she looks to impress her father, I am sure she is bound to feel like she''s suffocating even more than the others. But it still doesn''t change my initial statement.


    She is a sheltered princess.


    Looking around myself, I tried to take in the general layout of the city.


    The walls of the city curved in a way that reminded me of the angles of a hexagon.


    Rising to nearly 40 metres in height, the walls looked quite formidable in their scale, and it created quite an imposing boundary that encircled the city like a perfectly fitted armour. The stones that constituted these walls were laid with such precision that it was surprising even for me who had seen modern architecture.


    There''s always something about ancient architecture that makes you question the modern one. Just one look at it and a decently educated person could understand that every aspect was calculated, not just for defence but for enduring stability.


    Turrets rose at regular intervals along the walls, with extremely consistent placement.


    Like the points of a crown, the turrets gave the walls an almost regal appearance, each one manned by the city''s border patrol.


    Observing them from a distance, I noticed the way they stood¡ªalert, disciplined, and unmoving. The archers were the ones who moved the most, arrows stretched constantly and arcanum blistering at the tip like an explosive, following someone random ¨C maybe someone they were suspicious of ¨C and then moving to someone else.


    A few of those patrol members wielded staffs, long and hewn from a dark wood that appeared invisible in the constant dark of Lawold. Others had swords strapped to their hips.


    A little mischievousness suddenly bubbled inside me.


    Arcanum flowed from my main mode, brightening up the arcane art embedded into my being as I flicked my wrist.


    A weak, completely non harmful blunt force of forcefield perambulated towards them and then dissipated a few inches away, swirling and dissipating like the morning mist.


    I felt their bodies tangibly bristle as they suddenly went into a hushed, systematic frenzy that lasted only a few moments before they composed themselves.


    Arrows were drawn, quivers were adjusted, spears were drawn, swords were unsheathed and arcanum started to turn into elements of nature around their staffs as they looked in every direction.


    Hiding behind a tall man, I walked side-by-side with him, atypically proud of myself.


    "You should be ashamed of yourself." Isolde chimed rudely, effortlessly keeping pace with me as the tall man took a turn and left me without a cover.


    And there goes the little fun I was having. And I am hailed as the ultimate mood killer.


    Not paying much heed to the pubescent calf''s words, I kept walking.


    There were signboards hanging with semi-rusty chains everywhere ¨C corners, intersections, conjoining roads and even shops ¨C which made it quite easy to navigate through and know where exactly I was.


    We were currently walking in the Southern Industrial Zone; South Sarton.


    Sarton was the name of the ''non-royal'' half of Lawold. All industries were present in Sarton.


    The "South Industrial Zone" or "SIZ" for short is primarily reserved for manual labour ¨C people being paid the lowest and undertaking the most physically taxing tasks ¨C and some industrial activities.


    After reaching the ''Intersection 11,'' I looked up at the board. It had a white background with blue coloured base for the white letters. An arrow pointed towards the left and said ''Iron Clad District.'' Another one motioned for a straight street towards ''Sarton Steelworks'' and the other one indicated that taking the first right exit led to ''Titan Foundry.''


    Since there were no better places on any signboard that were close by, I decided to take a quick tour of the outskirts of this ''IronClad District.''


    "I am not moving one step forward." Isolde suddenly stomped her feet. "This is unbecoming of me. Are you trying to make a mockery out of me?!" Her voice raised as I toned down the volume of her words. "I am the heir to the throne. And you are a pathe¡ª"


    Her face was flushed red while she talked.


    "Isolde." I spoke, my voice loud despite me whispering. She stopped talking, all of a sudden.


    "Have you ever been punched in the face for no reason?"


    Her words came to a sudden, surprised halt as I stared at her half-covered face over my shoulder. After a few seconds of stupefied silence, I started walking again. "I guessed so."


    The sound of her footsteps fell faint at first and then soon disappeared from the normal hearing range of an ''ordinary'' human. It''s not like I cared about what happens to her. The only reason I couldn''t bring myself to kill her was because of a ramification that will bite me in the future.


    While this was something Jayden himself said I could do and was in accordance with their ''laws,'' I am quite sure a bounty would still be placed on my head. Just because Jayden went along with the formality, doesn''t mean he would want a human to kill his off-spring. I am well aware of the tolerance levels of both¡ªOlvasens and Cromwells.


    I paused, the silence behind me signalling her distance. Only when her footsteps returned, soft but distinct within that familiar range, did I continue walking.


    A long rectangular board with an arrowhead that was dirtier than the gutter I had just passed had the words ''IronClad'' written on it; barely visible.


    And much to my surprise, the district was much smaller than I had thought. Built inside a square fencing, the ''houses'' were 3 storey buildings in 3 rows and 6 columns. The 3 rows ¨C or streets ¨C were Coal Street, Anvil Road and Forge Lane. Coal street was the one in the forefront with 6 buildings in rapid succession. The material used in building all of these was bright sandy in colour.


    Adjacent to Coal Street was Forge Lane which seemed dirtier than Coal Street and at the very back was Anvil Road which was the exit from this district. Clothes were hanging on small lines outside the narrow windows.


    I wonder how people dry their clothes here. I mean; there''s no sun. And the general temperature of this place was quite cold. Each house or building had a sequential numbering with a prefix "IC" like IC-101, IC-102 etcetera, etcetera.


    All of the houses in this region were small, tightly packed row buildings, each with a small front yard which had grass in light green and dark purple shade while some of them had a few flowers but they were very rare.


    I walked towards the Anvil Road and exited the place, and rejoined the main ''road'' which led to other places while walking on the mud-caked sidewalk. Thankfully I was wearing calf-length leather boots, so getting my clothes dirty or having the mud seep into my shoes was not of concern.


    I was about to take the entrance to ''Ashen Alley'' when a certain someone walked out. Michael''s hair was dishevelled and he was fastening the belt of his pants. His bright amber eyes flicked towards me and then creased, his lips moving up in a condescending grin.


    "''Sup."


    "Nothing." I closed my eyes and continued walking.


    Matching his pace with me, he stared at me. "Yo, Arth¡ªnevermind, listen here, you retard."


    "What?"


    "I''ve been thinking." He spoke, his voice sharp and sandpapery. Suddenly his arcanum fluctuated.


    "When was the first time we spoke?"


    I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.


    My head moved slowly towards him. His eyes were focused on me, his features hardened. My eyes caught a glimpse of a red mark along his jaw but they met his eyes once again. His pupil was super contracted and I could feel a very thin layer of arcanum right underneath his epidermis.


    "When we were 6?" I shrugged and continued walking.


    His feet came to a sudden halt.


    I didn''t look back. I had no need to do it. I could already tell his intent, or his state of mind.


    I looked over my shoulder. "Were you expecting me to not remember?"


    "I uhh¡ª" For the first time I saw him stammering, his forehead creased in a deep, contemplative frown.


    "Yeah, nevermind. Just wanted to ask." The active arcanum turned incorporeal and drifted off into the air, new, ambient motes of them taking its place and travelling inside him.


    It was an educated guess. Bringing heirs to Fjellborg before 6 was not recommended. Mostly because the average age of heirs awakening their arcane arts was around 6 years old. This data was calculated and derived from the main version of ''Syndicate Historia.''


    Taking into consideration the fact that our generation has been much more active and powerful than our predecessors at our age due to Eden''s Arcanum slowly slipping into the earth and filling it, I expected all of us to be awakened by the time we were 6. The youngest amongst us are Michael and myself. The rest are either 1 or 2 years older than us.


    Not so sure about Yuki. Her sister ¨C Yui Watanabe ¨C was 3 years older than me.


    "Where''s Astrid?" Michael suddenly asked, looking around.


    "Uh, I don''t know." I blurted out, arching my eyebrows up as I felt a little drowsy.


    There were a lot of things going on as of now. And my main objective of finding out what happened to my memories ¨C very specific ones ¨C is being progressively pushed back to the absolute limits. Less and less time is being dedicated towards it, which in itself doesn''t sound like that much of an alarming issue; but on a personal level, it is.


    "The fuc¡ª" Michael looked around with a dumbfounded look. He turned back and Isolde''s footfalls which had muted again fell into my range again. "I admit Isolde''s hot but why the fuck did you abandon the other one?"


    A scowl creeped up to my face and I kept silent for a while. Once I felt him getting angry, I spoke up. "She said she wanted to roam around, a little. Maybe some alone time."


    "Dude¡­" Michael sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose, "¡­you were supposed to go along- you know what? Since you won''t take the chance, I will."


    An uncomfortable feeling suddenly pushed bile to the back of my throat and my head jerked in his direction.


    His lips quirked up.


    Frowning, I looked away. "I know where she is so I have no need to personally accompany her."


    Michael looked up at the sky, closed his eyes and then turned towards the south-east. "Ahh-" He exasperated. "-it''s weird how bright her signature is. Did you not teach her to conceal her presence?"


    I shrugged. "It''s concealed. To the best of her abilities."


    "No fucking way¡­" He closed his eyes once again.


    The cat was already out of the bag. There was no use hiding it.


    "Oh damn, it really is suppressed¡­" His voice kept trailing off as he talked, "¡­I can see why you''ve been keeping white ratatouille around."


    "It has nothing to do with that."


    "Oh, so you just love her then?"


    "Do I?"


    Michael snorted, popping his knee by folding it upwards and coming to a quick stop before moving again. "I don''t know. You tell me." He craned his neck to the left. "Feels like you do. And not, at the same time. It''s weird."


    He raised his hand in a placating manner. "I am not into this love bullshit anyways. Nothing good ever comes out of it."


    He shrugged and let his hands dangle to the side. "Just fuck around and enjoy your life. Too short of a lifespan to fall in love and stay dedicated."


    His amber eyes shifted towards me. "Oh yeah, uncle must be thinking this new generation is so out of hand."


    I looked away, rolling my eyes. "Who am I to judge?"


    "So do ya love her orrrr¡ªyou marinating her?"


    The answer was clear.


    "Not sure."


    Very, very clear.


    "Just going with the flow."


    Amidst the obscurity of my memories and the haze surrounding my thoughts, only a handful of things were clear. And this was one of those things.


    "And that''s it."


    "Boring." He let out a loud huff, causing a few people to look in our directions.


    Their eyes travelled towards us ¨C our attire and then up at the projection of horns jutting out of our temples and heads. Every time someone would look at our horns, they''d either recoil away in terror, leave the pavement for us to walk with plenty of room or just totally look down and freeze in one place.


    Isolde''s footfalls came to a sudden, panicked halt and I felt her bristle, arcanum bursting out of her body.


    Michael shivered, and while they seemed to grasp it instantly, I caught on a moment later. Following Isolde and Michael''s gaze upward, I narrowed my eyes.


    The people around us, still frozen in their deep bows, had their eyes wide open, staring at the sky as if something had taken hold of them. Though their bodies remained bent, their focus never wavered from what loomed above.


    At first glance, the sky looked wrong, as if it had been dealt a violent blow. Cracks spread out from an invisible impact point, jagged lines splitting through the clouds like fractured glass. And then, a faint dome-shaped structure flickered in and out of existence.


    One second, it shimmered faintly, barely there, and in the next, it blinked out of view. The shift was jarring, like the dome was on the verge of collapsing or slipping from its reality. The following instant, the cracks hanging in the sky seemed to shift, moving from that distant place and transferring onto the dome itself. The dome began to break apart, pieces of it falling away.


    Blue light from the low-hanging moon reflected off the jagged fragments as they drifted downward, a stark contrast to the heavy, grey sky that stretched behind it.


    A hushed murmur escaped Michael''s lips.


    Something black in colour arched in mid-air and fought against the rising and falling dome akin to the chest of someone hyperventilating. The darkness that ensued in the wake of the black projectile covered everything, and despite the progressively increasing arcanum augmentation into my eyes, I was losing sight. I had to touch my eyes to make sure they were not closed. Michael''s arcanum was burning hot but even the signature lacked any shine. Just the hot, burning sensation of it materialising.


    In the distance I felt Astrid''s signature glow a little brighter- the only lone star still somewhat vibrant in the sea of ever-increasing darkness. My heart settled in the pits of my stomach as I fell to my knees. And so did everyone. A heavy veil of something that had far transcended the usual feel of arcanum I was used to weighed down on us.


    And then a moment later, my eyes were assaulted by light so bright that I had to press the base of my palm against my eyes for a good minute before daring to open them.


    When I did, I blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the disorientation and the rising urge to throw up. I turned my head sideways, taking in everything. A lot of people had lost consciousness. Michael was the first to come to his senses, however; he was still tapping his temples, as if trying to get something out of his ears. My attention was immediately drawn up to the sky- the place where so many cracks and a dome had appeared.


    The sky was still shattered, however; the dome''s rising and falling had been subdued. Whatever the black projectile, or person was, it had somehow mitigated it.


    The realisation dawned a bit too late.


    Due to the recent events, we totally forgot the merger is happening¡­ and from the looks of it, I do not think we have more than 2 days. And while the disparity of time between Earth and Eden is quite a lot, it has been merging for quite some time. It will not be the same as it was 200 years ago.


    "Fucking hell¡­" Michael exclaimed, his eyes glowing like molten gold, "¡­it felt like my heart was on fire."


    Looking back, I saw Isolde still in a daze, looking at the sky with her mouth agape.


    "I''ll go get Astrid." I spoke up as Michael frowned.


    He shook his head and then stood in front of me. "I''ll do it. You go take this airheaded bitch back."


    "Right¡­" I felt my eyes narrow.


    "Oh, for fuck''s sake, I am not that much of an asshole to do anything to her."


    The clamorous clanging of border patrol and police filled the air as they started to hastily exit a seven-story building in a swift manner, filling the streets with groups of 2. I took a step back and then looked at Michael. He cast a sidelong glance at me and then nodded.


    "The bridge. In 5 minutes."


    "This is the first and last time I want to hear an order from you." He growled grumpily.


    I nodded and he left, weaving amidst the increasing personnel of the border patrol.


    Isolde was still in her wide-eyed reverie. "Descended¡­he descended¡­" She muttered through dried, cracked lips.


    Maybe I should just leave her here.


    -----------

 62: A Poem?

    The heavy creak of the drawbridge echoed faintly across the castle grounds, a distant sound that shivered in the cool evening air.


    Arthur stood near the edge of the room; gaze fixed on the massive wooden structure from the giant window, as it slowly began to rise.


    The thick and worn chains clanked loudly with each turn of the winch, causing a constant metallic and rhythmic noise.


    With timbers as thick as a troll''s arm and giant iron screws, it was quite intriguing to watch ¨C for Arthur, at least.


    It rose steadily, the groan of wood against iron providing a subtle backdrop for the grim mood inside the giant, familiar room.


    As the bridge lifted higher, the last view of the river below began to disappear. The dark blue water ¨C from the moonlight ¨C flowed silently beneath and around the castle, its surface barely disturbed by the light fresh wind that blew through Lawold and the pungent one blowing over Sarton.


    The reflection of the moon ¨C faint and hanging low in the sky ¨C danced on the still surface for a brief moment before vanishing entirely as the drawbridge sealed shut, disconnecting the so-called ''actual'' Lawold from its poorer counterpart ¨C Sarton.


    Arthur''s eyes drifted up toward one of the castle''s stony spires.


    He took a step forward and the giant window was replaced by narrow slits in the stone. The sight of the outside world as all Arthur could make out was the flickering light of torches within the main throne room.


    Through the thick slit glass, he could feel the silhouettes of those inside moving like ghosts, dark figures cast against the stone walls in a hurried motion.


    With a sigh, he turned his attention away from the window and back to the crowd that filled the throne room.


    People of various positions were gathered tightly together, a sea of faces that seemed to blur into one another. There was a murmur of voices, low and uncertain, as they talked and chattered for what was to come¡ªor rather, had come already. Some of them were angry, some afraid, and some of extreme bewilderment and reverie. But one way or the other, the dread that filled everyone was equal.


    No one was exempted. Even Arthur and Michael ¨C who seemed to be the most composed ¨C couldn''t stop the slight shiver in their legs.


    Arthur felt himself being pulled forward by the press of bodies around him. Someone bumped into him, but he planted his feet in place. The man turned to look around and frowned. He was a middle-aged man who had two horns sprouting from the side of his head and short black locks that were cut in a pseudo-military style.


    His lips moved to say something but he scrunched his nose and then looked back, limping towards the place where he had intended to go from the start.


    ''It seems like the mock duel has caused many people to not think about getting in a physical altercation with us.'' Arthur mused, tilting his head sideways. His hands were inside his pockets and his arms retracted in a way that there was a bare minimum of skin-to-skin contact with people.


    He was wearing a grey undershirt and tight, black pants. The undershirt was fastened together with laces along his chest area. Brown hair fell like curtains on either side of his face, long and unkempt. His eyes were alert, constantly flicking from one person to another.


    Behind him Michael was standing with his back towards Arthur, his shoulders slouched.


    Unlike Arthur, he was having a hard time to hold his ground. The crowd was too large, too eager, and he was in a constant state of being pushed and jostled, his feet barely finding purchase on the slippery stones.


    "God, stand still, would you?" Astrid complained, squeezing herself against the wall behind the two of them. She was wearing a tight-fitting black suit ¨C much like Isolde''s training clothes ¨C that closed tightly around her chest and rear.


    "Fuck off somewhere else." Michael groaned, his brows furrowing.


    There was a constant push from the crowd, like the gentle waves of the sea. Astrid seemed a little uncomfortable and her breath was slightly elevated as her heart pounded in her chest. And despite the fact that she wasn''t being directly forced deeper into the throng, it still made her extremely dizzy. She could hear the faint rustle of fabric, the creak of leather, and the occasional indecipherable murmurs of conversation as people shifted nervously in place.


    "God it''s suffocating here." Astrid complained, once again.


    The transparent fumes from the cyan coloured flames alight on the wall torches made it even more hard to breathe, atop her ''medical condition'' ¨C as Arthur coined it.


    Arthur shifted uncomfortably, and suddenly a thick veil of pressure surrounded him, which made the entire crowd shift for a brief moment, away from him. Casting angry looks that screamed ''we''re going to skin this human alive'' they stared at him until suddenly the air around the throne that dominated the far centre of the room convulsed.


    It was empty one moment and before everyone had completely turned their heads towards it, a figure was already seated on it. And while he was barely visible through the sea of people, everyone could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on him.


    Aksel Olvasen was standing right beneath the flight of stairs that led to the throne, his beard shaggy and hair uncombed, likely due to him going straight to bed right after the afternoon events.


    "It''ll be over soon." Arthur replied to Astrid, his eyes narrowing on his father and then Jayden.


    People had moved away from where Arthur, Michael and Astrid were standing, forming a squirming semi-circle around them. The scene felt like people changing their path away from a maggot infested body. And while the reasons behind avoiding physical contact with the three varied from person to person, the general overlook was ¨C more or less ¨C the same.


    "My lord- this is a bad omen."


    The middle-aged man who had bumped into Arthur spoke as he wiped his short black locks ¡ª cut in a pseudo-military style ¡ª from between his horns. A triangular ornament hung from a rubber string that moved wildly before settling as he pushed through the crowd and got out, towards the forefront and stood a step behind Aksel. His eyes flicked towards Aksel, however the suffocating aura that surrounded Aksel made him not treat the man the same as he did his son, or even visibly express any disdain.


    Jayden''s brows suddenly arched and then frowned as he looked down at the old, sweaty man.


    "Defence Minister Varlek!" The guard standing beneath the flight of stairs with a giant mace to his side announced as the man named Varlek hastily bowed his head and then looked up.


    Jayden, in response, only narrowed his eyes and then his features evened out, as if just realising who the man in front of him was.


    "Honoured-" he paused, his words slipping and jumbling, much like the parchments that he was holding to his chest and were now falling one by one from his shaking arms, each one carrying a tread of his self-consciousness away. "-to be in your presence, lord of the night and master of the unde--"


    "Enough, Varlek. Speak plainly¡ªwhat news do you bring?" Jayden exclaimed with a grumble.


    "Ah, yes, my lord¡­" He looked around himself and the small, deep black eyes landed on a parchment that was present on the floor. Picking it up, the rest of hundred or so leaflets fell from his grasp.


    A few hushed laughers filled the space, but they returned to a lull as Jayden''s amber gaze swept across the room.


    Holding the single piece of paper in both hands, he extended it above his head. His cracked lips moved.


    "Gabriel descends, and the sky bends. Not from grace, but from weight¡ª"


    Valrek''s eyes turned grim¨Chowever, there was an eerie smile on his face. As if he was being liberated with every iteration of whatever ballad or poem he was presenting.


    "The weight of wings too vast to see, stretching from the west to the east, turning the heavens from dawn to dusk. No sound in his coming. No thunder or storm to herald his flight."


    His head started to sway sideways.


    "I see ''him'', but I do not wish to see. His face is not for our eyes, and yet, I know it sees me. Us. Feel the weight of that gaze, in your bones, in the marrow of fear."


    The entire room suddenly came to a lull. Jayden shifted in his seat. Only when the arcanum around him grew heavy did Varlek speak again. "The accounts and the proofs left behind by our ancestors¡­they match up!"


    Jayden cocked his head. "And what does an incompetent defence minister know about a field that belongs to Credents1 and Seers?" The man was suddenly taken aback. "No wonder I couldn''t recognise you. You are as incompetent as they come." He let out an aggressive breath, causing the curly white lock to frolic away from his eye.


    "And now you are here, wasting mine and everyone''s time by uttering the utmost garbage with no proof to back it up."


    Despite the reprimanding tone, Arthur couldn''t help but feel a little uneasy.


    ''It''s not like him'' He thought.


    "My lord¡­ I- I apologise for the lack of progress in my designated role- but please, I am not uttering garbage." The aged baritone turned sharp, as if he had felt offended not at being called useless but rather for his research. "I have closely followed every Credents'' work ¨C to date ¨C and have done my research on them. You can send this to verify with your own personal force."


    Jayden leaned forward. "And why would the monarchs themselves come down?"


    "Because that is their job¡­" Varlek said with an almost heavy tongue. "¡­they are mediators who neither live in the upper world nor in ours. Monarch Gabriel came down to save us. To warn us. He has finally returned after hundreds of thousands of years. To his rightful place!"


    Jayden smiled at the man. Pressing the side rests, he stood up and slowly, casually walked down. Once he was face to face with the old man, he looked down and smiled once again.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Arthur frowned, all of a sudden.


    "Put Minister Varlek here in confinement. He leaves for Thal''kresh tomorrow." He uttered without breaking eye contact.


    The smile on Varlek''s face all but vanished.


    "M-My Lord¡­?" All he could manage was a stutter as one of the burly looking guards suddenly pulled him back, locking his arm with Valrek''s. However, his eyes stayed fixed on Jayden, as if he had been betrayed.


    "What you utter is blasphemy, Minister Valrek." Jayden raised his nose and looked down at him with contempt. "The monarchs do not exist. Not anymore. It would be better if you get that notion out of your head." His boot clacked against the throne as he sat down. "Or not, given how it might be your sole companion until your execution."


    "Blasphemy?" His voice raised and arcanum built up like wildfire underneath his skin, making it glow. Thick, slushy vines started to sprout from his body and crimson streaked through his eyes. "I will¡ªgurgh¡­"


    A white mane fluttered and then the minister was out cold on the floor, blood flowing from the corner of his lips. His 4 horns were visible menacingly, a contrast to his warm, ever present smile on his face.


    "The King ordered something. Guards?" Veiled underneath Nacht''s smile was a killing intent so potent that even Astrid who was much distance away couldn''t stop her body from convulsing.


    The clamouring of guard''s armour made everyone shuffle as they moved from Jayden''s side and between the crowd. Making a circle around the incapacitated minister, they picked him up and took him away.


    A veil of silence descended for a while before people started to silently chatter again, talking about the dark blur and the cracked sky.


    Nacht nodded towards his father before moving out of the way, standing right beside Lucian. Arthur''s eyes narrowed down on the two brothers.


    It was, albeit a small detail but Arthur found it a little odd how Nacht would always stand a little behind Lucian, never completely in front of him. It could''ve had no deeper meaning and just a string of coincidences, but seeing how meticulous and organised the Cromwells were, he couldn''t just get it out of his head.


    His grey eyes travelled the pathway which was cleared out for the guards carrying the unconscious minister.


    "I will be back." Arthur spoke suddenly, causing both Astrid and Michael to jerk their heads towards him.


    "You what?" Astrid exclaimed.


    "I will be back, shortly. I need you to stay here and tell me what happened." He retorted, sparing a quick glance back. "Word-by-word briefing."


    "Art¡ªI, ughh- fine."


    Her hand was outstretched as she saw Arthur disappear amidst the crowd, narrowly dodging people.


    "You know." Michael suddenly started speaking, donning the usual rough baritone. "I have been thinking." His bright golden eyes were sharp as he stared at each individual demon with an utmost defiant and predatory gaze, while standing in front of Astrid. "Why?"


    Astrid cocked her head, her nose scrunching. "What do you mean by ''why''? What is the implication?"


    Looking over his shoulder, he looked at her from the corner of his gleaming eye. "If you can''t tell then it''s not my place to say anything." Michael shrugged but kept eye contact. "But you are where you don''t want to be."


    "And where would that be?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.


    "A ring of fire." Michael raised his brows theatrically. "Inside a circus that is." Instead of a condescending smile, his expressions mellowed out. "And you are not the ringmaster, that is for sure."


    Astrid huffed out. "I didn''t expect you to stoop so low."


    Michael''s eyes widened in an explicable way. He could not understand what made her say this all of a sudden.


    "I know your families do not like each other, but to fill garbage in my head against Arthur of all people in this world," she looked up with a look of disgust, "you are way worse than I had thought."


    "What the actual fuck¨Cwha?"


    Astrid started to awkwardly move away. The crowd was stifling, and barely anyone was giving her space to move. Still, somehow managing to break through the crowd, she started to walk away.


    "Oye, you fuckin'' rat!" Michael reached out for her arm and pulled her around, making her face himself. "What the fuck was that about huh?"


    Astrid''s eyes sharpened and she jerked her hand back, slipping out of Michael''s soft grasp. Gently rubbing her wrist, she turned around. "Do not approach me again."


    "Oh yeah? Fuck off then." Michael exclaimed with a scrunched nose as he turned in the opposite direction. "My bad for saving your dumb ass."


    "Pot calling the kettle black." Astrid cried out from the other side of the long hallway as the door to the throne room closed.


    "I will fuck you up, you damned little shit!"


    "In your dreams!"


    As the two continued to walk in opposite directions, the string of argument devolved into nothing more than a mumbo jumbo of vulgar curses.


    On the other side of the castle, Arthur suddenly shifted and hid behind a buttress as the taller guard who was carrying Varlek suddenly looked back.


    "What is it?"


    "I swear I felt someone behind me."


    The shorter one smacked his head. "Have those filthy humans'' pheromones turned you into a wujin as well??"


    "Ow- oh, fear Hades, my friend. I would rather die than have a human''s influence on me." The taller one who had Valrek on his shoulders spoke. "I have no idea why the Lord would even allow them to live, let alone invite them to Nostravlun."


    "I know right? It sounds ridiculous!" He paused but then shook his head. "But hey, who are we to question? He is the wisest ruler in Helheim, only next to Lord Brimstone. I am sure there would be something that we can''t comprehend behind his actions."


    "Right. But I hope he kills them once he gets what he wants."


    "Haha, right! I would love to see the look on their faces when they die." He suddenly smacked his lips. "And you know we can have you-know-what with you-know-who as well before they are killed, ehehehehe!"


    Arthur cringed. Never knew I''d be witnessing a novelic interaction between two low-level henchmen in real life. What has my life become?!


    After a quick laugh the two started walking again.


    The number of guards who took Valrek away is much lower. Where are the others?


    He looked around, but found nothing. Closing his eyes, he sent a few pulses of electromagnetic waves in a controlled motion in every direction which rippled like water. He made sure that it didn''t travel too far to avoid detection by people who were at a much higher phase than he was.


    My father will automatically know that I have activated a technique¡­well, it doesn''t matter as of now.


    Arcane Arts resonate with each other. Whether it''s because of their clashing or harmonious properties or if it''s because someone who is included in a Blood Contract uses it. There are exceptions, however; if a person is much more proficient in a spell, they can bypass the ''resonance.''


    Since the arcane art that operates on the concept of ''electromagnetism'' only had 3 users in the world, it was practically impossible for Arthur to be in the same castle¡ªno matter how big¡ªand avoid resonance with Aksel. However; it hardly mattered since he could just make an excuse that he was being vigilant.


    A detailed perspective of the world flooded Arthur''s mind like a blueprint and he immediately opened his eyes.


    They are expecting someone to follow Valrek. One above me, two behind me and one travelling side by side with the envoy in the ''rooms'' to my left. Have they not spotted me? Or are they just going along?


    On the way to the prison cells, to the left, there were a series of doors which gave the illusion that there were almost unlimited amounts of rooms. However, after using his reconnaissance spell, Arthur could see that there were no walls between all of these ''rooms.''


    It was one giant passageway with the small indented glasses at top making it impossible to look in but easy to look from the other side.


    Must be to actively track prisoners so they don''t run amok inside castle premises. Hmm¡­


    Arthur fell in deep thought as he first let the duo disappear into the encroaching dark.


    I can act oblivious or I can turn around and leave. However, leaving right now would make Jayden think I had an ulterior motive¡­well, hiding behind a wall and talking to myself isn''t exactly ''not suspicious.'' Hmm, well, here goes nothing.


    Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Arthur kept tailing them.


    After around 3 minutes of walking, the doors on the left finished, the presence of someone walking right above vanished as well. Arthur''s brows scrunched and a moment later, he felt his primary node settle into stillness.


    He didn''t exactly panic but the situation felt very odd to him. Some kind of artefact? It''s blocking the flow of arcanum from the primary node to the secondary ones¡­hmm, interesting.


    Arthur kept a reasonable distance. And then even increased it. The reason behind it was quite obvious. Humans were physically inferior to demons. Despite being washed in arcanum for more than a decade, Arthur in his non-arcanum form was much weaker than demons in the same ship.


    Factoring in how Arthur''s main strength was the efficiency with which he used his arcanum reserves, it was quite dangerous for him to get too close now that his access to his innate techniques was weakened¡ªto a significant degree.


    Following them closely, Arthur slipped into the dimly lit corridor, the heavy scent of damp stone and rusted iron filling his nostrils. The faint flicker of cyan torchlight bounced erratically off the uneven walls.


    His steps were careful, deliberate¡ªbarely a whisper against the cold floor, though the pounding of his heart felt dangerously high in his ears. Not out of fear but adrenaline. There was always something about him that made him excited in such situations.


    The air in the prison chambers was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies and something far worse. Suddenly the voice of the guards he was following started to echo from right behind him.


    I was just following them!


    Not dwelling much on it, his eyes darted around. He was searching for a quick cover when his gaze caught on a barrel tucked into the corner, half-hidden in shadow.


    That would do¡­


    Arthur crouched low, easing the wooden lid aside and slipping inside. The wood creaked softly beneath his weight. He drew his knees to his chest and settled inside it.


    Through the narrow slits between the wooden planks, Arthur could just make out the faint glow of a different coloured torchlight nearing, casting an amber hue along the corridor.


    The clink of armour grew louder¡ªin a steady rhythm, like the ticking of a clock counting down. He pressed his back harder against the damp wood, willing himself smaller, quieter, almost disappearing into the darkness.


    "You fool, we are back where we started again!"


    "Hades have mercy, have I really been affected by those filthy monkeys'' presence?"


    "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Turn the switch off."


    "Ah¨Cyes, right¨C wait a second." The guards that were in front of Arthur moved and pressed against a brick. Arcanum swirled and Arthur felt a wave of dread wash over him.


    Never knew that feeling arcanum as someone who can''t use it is frightening¡­no wonder no one approached me in school.


    As Arthur was thinking, suddenly a sound came¡ª*thump*¡ªheavy, unmistakable.


    Sound of someone landing hard on the ground. Someone had fallen.


    In the distance, the scrape of a door slammed shut, and the taller guard barked orders, unbothered by the slight breaking sound that ensued after the thump. The thump wasn''t followed by a scream or a groan¡ªjust that single, sickening thump¡ªand the silence that followed seemed even worse.


    And then they were shifting. Footsteps. Louder now. Torchlight growing brighter, casting a glow against the barrel''s surface. He could hear the shift of armour, the shuffle of boots¡ªtoo close, much too close.


    A shadow passed over the crack in the barrel, darkening the narrow slit through which he was looking. The guard stopped. Right next to the barrel.


    Arthur''s muscles coiled¡ªunaugmented by arcanum¡ªready to spring.


    There was a queasy feeling in his gut. The usual comforting cold he''d feel from arcanum was nowhere to be felt. It made him uncomfortable. Unsure. Uncertain. Apprehensive.


    And apprehension irritated him.


    Sweat prickled the back of his neck as the guard''s boots scuffed the stone floor, just inches away.


    It was not like he was afraid of the guards. Or the punishments that awaited after being caught, no. He couldn''t care less. However, the prospect of trying so hard for nothing caused anxiety in him. He wanted to leave with at least a little bit of vital information.


    His hand twitched, and he felt the cool wood under his fingertips, but his grip tightened¡ªnot out of strength, but something else entirely. Paresthesia.


    His foot had fallen asleep.


    You have got to be bloody kidding me¡­my first time had to be right now?!


    The guard leaned closer. The smell of sweat, old leather, and something metallic filled the air as Arthur caught the faintest rattle of keys hanging from the guard''s belt.


    His hand balled into a fist. He was ready to unleash everything the moment the guard removed the lid.


    The guard shifted again, as if considering¡ªsensing something was out of place. Time stretched impossibly thin, the silence between the clinks of his armour stretching into a suffocating void.


    "Oye, stop wasting time. We need to be back in the throne room as quickly as possible."


    "Uhh, oh yeah! The king is alone!"


    "Don''t forget to recalibrate the cube."


    "Yeah, yeah, got it."


    The guard turned, his footsteps retreating with quick strides. The tension in Arthur''s body released like a coiled spring, but he didn''t dare move, not yet.


    Curses! This cramp had to ruin my plans¡­


    The sound of walls grating and shifting filled the air and when the last of the torchlight faded and the sounds of the guards'' footsteps were distant once more, he exhaled, the breath shuddering from his lungs.


    Once the paresthesia was healed, he quickly sprang out of the barrel and moved towards where he had heard the thump.


    As he reached the cell, his eyes widened.


    With his feet crossed, Valrek was sitting atop a cryptic circle made out of blood. His blood. His fingers were still bleeding.


    The irregular smeared blotches of blood turned corporeal, as if brimming with life and started to move suddenly. The dried blotch turned wetter and wetter until it was flowing towards the jail cell''s foot.


    Arthur took an instinctive step back.


    The man breathed in a shaky sigh before looking up.


    "I have been waiting for you." The look on his face and the colour of his eyes was totally different for a passing moment as he said. "Would you like to hear a poem?"

 63: A Poem

    A queasy feeling settled deep in Arthur''s gut.


    Varlek was there, feet crossed in an unnatural, almost twisted manner, sitting atop a cryptic, symbolic circle drawn in blood. His blood. His fingers were still dripping, staining the floor in sluggish drops that echoed¡­plopped into the shallow muddle of dirt and blood.


    Arthur looked back, his arcanum beyond the precipice of his control.


    The irregular smeared blotches of crimson beneath Varlek were moving, as though they were alive.


    Arthur''s eyes narrowed as the dried blood took on a glistening sheen, wet and fresh, flowing unnaturally toward the base of the jail cell''s door. Like a cobra slowly slithering towards its prey.


    A shiver crawled up his spine, and instinctively, he took a step back.


    Varlek inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling like a trapped animal in a circus. Then his head lifted, eyes wide and glassy, unfocused and far away.


    "I have been waiting for you." The look on his face and the colour of his eyes was totally different for a passing moment as he said.


    "Would you like to hear a poem?" he rasped, his voice a trembling mockery of innocence. At the same moment the natural colour of his eyes returned.


    Without waiting for a reply, Varlek stood, limbs moving as if he was being pulled by invisible strings. His hands, still dripping with blood, swayed in slow arcs. Despite being alive and breathing, he felt like a lifeless corpse.


    Varlek twirled once, his bloodstained feet sliding along the floor. His voice turned mellow and then trembled.


    "One hand lifted to greet the storm..."


    His arms extended skyward, fingers twitching as if calling down some unseen lightning. His hands dropped, one grazing the floor, the other clawing the air, as he whispered:


    "The other, stained¡ªboth cold and warm..."


    Arthur''s jaw clenched. Unease prickled his skin. Varlek took another step, his foot gliding through the spreading pool of blood.


    "Two worlds will tremble, side by side..."


    Eden and Earth¡­? What is he rambling about? The words struck a discordant note in Arthur''s mind. His eyes moved towards the cell door, the need to escape warring with the morbid fascination and something much more¡­almighty, that rooted him to the spot.


    Varlek''s whole body shook, quaking violently, hands clutching at the air as if he held two planets in his grasp, twisting them together. Then, suddenly, his head snapped to Arthur, eyes bulging.


    "When the boy becomes the night''s bride."


    Varlek''s smile stretched too wide¡­ too wrong.


    He swayed again, fingers weaving through the air, tracing invisible threads.


    "Hair of light, oh such a cursed grace¡­"


    He whispered reverently, as though speaking of something sacred and¡­ terrible, at the same time. His hands moved to his chest, cradling something¡­ inexplicable¡ªsomething precious, something painful. Like a child. A baby.


    He closed his eyes briefly, then drove his palms outward violently.


    "Turn the one last kiss into death''s embrace."


    His body jerked backward as if struck, collapsing to the floor with a heavy thud. He laid there for a bit, still and twitching, fingers curling into the dried, muddied blood as though he was testing himself for control. His arm trembled, pushing against the ground, but it faltered halfway, sending him back down.


    After a few stuttering breaths, he tried again, legs dragging beneath him in a struggle to find balance, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. It was as if a marionette''s strings had gotten tangled.


    Arthur''s unease was clawing at him, and the urge to rip his tongue out and break his limbs grew stronger with every passing moment¡­ but he stayed still. Silent.


    What is this feeling¡­ Am I¡­? No¡­


    "The blade that heals, the blade that breaks..."


    Varlek mimicked the act of thrusting a sword into his chest, his eyes rolling back as though reliving the moment of piercing pain. He staggered, stumbling toward Arthur, clutching his side.


    "Will tear apart the heart it takes."


    He doubled over, cradling an invisible wound, his voice no more than a breathless whisper.


    His feet faltered, dragging now as he neared the bars of the cell. His fingers, stained with blood, wrapped around the iron.


    "When shattered crowns lay in the dust and ash and gravel and cinder..."


    He cried, tears¡ªthick and warm¡ªrolling down his eyes. He beat his own chest, repeatedly, until the beautiful fabric gave way and the laces holding his shirt gave way, revealing dark purplish marks all over his body.


    His voice cracked, hands rising to his head as though balancing a crown only he could feel¡ªlike mocking a fallen king. He let it slip off his brow, his blood-slick hands streaking the air as he mimed its collapse.


    "He shall rise, the nameless sign."


    His face twisted into a grin, lips curled in glee as he straightened, back arching unnaturally. Varlek''s gaze locked onto Arthur''s, eyes wide with manic intensity.


    "Pierced by hands that once were dear..."


    He whispered, swaying in a slow, hypnotic circle, his head shaking violently as if battling unseen demons. His hand raised again, moving toward his own chest, mimicking a slow, agonising betrayal.


    "Yet his voice will echo, ever near."


    He cackled suddenly. His laugh was sharp, jagged¡ªbreaking the silence like a crack of thunder. Arthur could feel the air shift and the queasy feeling only intensified.


    It was further magnified as he started to feel a pair of hollow eyes on himself. What¡­? What the hell is happening? It''s not Jayden¡­not anyone I know of¡­


    Taking his attention, Varlek clubbed violently on the jail bars.


    "Laugh now, BOY! WHILE THE GODS STILL JEST¡­!"


    Varlek stumbled forward, cackling, his fingers reaching out as though grasping for Arthur. The mockery in his tone twisted each word, his body moving in erratic, unpredictable steps.


    "For soon the world will know no rest."


    "What do you¡­even mean?" Arthur was losing composure.


    Varlek whirled around, arms spread wide as though embracing an inevitable end, before stopping dead still. Varlek''s eyes darkened, his voice turning into a soft, chilling whisper.


    "And when the thunder fades to gloom..."


    He gestured toward the barred window, his hand shaking slightly, as if calling a storm outside. The blood pooled at his feet shimmered under the faint light.


    "Only silence waits¡­within his tomb."


    "You''ve lost your mind." Arthur eased out his expressions and regained his composure, not letting Varlek see his stupefied expressions.


    With that, he collapsed to the floor like a piece of crumpled paper. His eyes stayed fixed on Arthur, wide and unblinking.


    Arthur looked around and bent down. Slipping his arm through the gaps of the cell, he reached out for Varlek and pulled his unconscious body. As he rummaged through his pockets, he took out a small medallion.


    It was an arrow shaped medallion, however, the neck of the arrow was bent back, facing the one who had shot it. He frowned at the design but slipped it inside his pocket nonetheless.


    I think I might have a vague idea of it¡­but why does he have it?


    It also happened to not seem like a minister related object so he thought it was fine to take it. He placed his finger beneath Valrek''s nose. No breath. No movement. The air was still.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "Dead." Arthur concluded, his voice flat, unshaken. He rummaged a bit more and then stood up, taking one final glance at the limp form on the ground. There was nothing left to linger for. The madman had finished his show.


    What a waste of time. I wasn''t even able to learn about the monarchs.


    With a bit of disappointment, Arthur turned to leave. His foot hovered just above the floor when something caught his wrist.


    A cold, clammy grip.


    Arthur looked down. Varlek''s hand clutched his arm, the pale fingers blood-streaked and trembling. Valrek was twitching. His head jerked, turning sharply toward Arthur. Bloodshot eyes, wide open and wild, stared at him, bulging out of their sockets.


    And then, a screech came¡ªraw and jagged like that of a tearing metal.


    "ADAAAAAAAAAM!!"


    Varlek''s grip tightened, bones creaking beneath the strain. His mouth hung open, quivering, as if ready to spew more words¡ªwords too broken for sound. His body convulsed, jerking violently against the floor.


    Arthur frowned and jerked his hand away.


    The force caused Valrek to hit the bars hard, causing a deep wound on his forehead. However, no blood leaked from it and he simply fell like a toy who had just exhausted all of its battery power.


    "Ughh¡ª" He groaned, the first set of words coming out of his mouth that didn''t feel like a reverie or someone talking through a fever dream.


    Looking back, Arthur took a few quick steps and ran back. While he did, he pushed the brick that he had felt when the guards were here to lock Valrek. The brick caved in and the pulsation of something alive between the small crevices of the structure¡ªakin to that of something alive¡ªceased immediately.


    The cube¡­ There are too many things I am intrigued about¡­


    He wanted to stay and somehow test the whole mechanism that stripped him of his sense of direction, however; time and nature of circumstances were against him.


    Next time then. I need to get out of here first.


    Winding up the stairs, Arthur traced his steps back up. As soon as he exited the "premises"¡ªas Arthur started to call it¡ªhe could feel the arcanum slip back into his primary node, like water entering a broken hull.


    His senses flared and he felt that the unfamiliar sensation of multiple vigilant and predatory eyes were absent this time. It was quite obvious by now that the passageway to the right was only used when a high-profile prisoner was being transferred to the cells beneath the castle grounds.


    After reaching the intersection point which diverged towards the residence chambers and the other to more official places¡ªlike the main throne room and like¡ªArthur moved towards the private chambers with a hastened pace.


    The surroundings turned into a colourful blur and before he knew it, he was already climbing the flight of stairs up that led to the living chambers.


    There has to be a connection!


    (*****)


    Astrid was done. Done with the emotional chaos, done with the uncertainty, done with feeling like her body was betraying her. And most of all, done with the way her thoughts kept circling back to Arthur, like moths drawn to a flickering flame. The realisation that he knew about her condition, about this monthly ordeal, had stripped away any pretence of normalcy or privacy¡ªleaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.


    Arthur, meanwhile, was a walking contradiction. One minute he was distant and preoccupied, lost in his own thoughts, the next he was hovering around her with an awkward, almost hesitant concern that only amplified her discomfort.


    She understood, of course. The weight of many things rested on his shoulders ¨C the deal with Aksel, the fight, the looming threat of the merger and his own body that had broken down to quite an alarming degree after Slipstream¡ªwhich the fight with Isolde only worsened... but understanding didn''t make her own turmoil any easier to bear.


    She pressed her hands against her abdomen, the insistent cramping making her let out a groan. A wave of nausea rose in her throat, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "Ugh," she groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "I could kill for a cup of chamomile tea right now, UGH!." A beat of silence, then a dark whisper, "Or maybe just kill. Period."


    Desperate for a distraction, she turned her gaze towards the window, where the blue moon hung like a luminous pearl in the velvet sky. As she stared at it for minutes, she realised the hue turns grey after a while. "Ah, looks just like his."


    As if realising it, she hid her face in her palms. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!" she cried out to herself, frustration mixing with a strange ache in her chest. "Damn you and these periods!"


    The empty cup beside her suddenly twisted and then broke into a million different pieces. She shook her head. "Can''t even control my arcanum these days¡­it keeps slipping out." She clutched her head between her hands. "Much like a lot of things, Ha.Ha. I am so funny!"


    A soft click broke the silence, and the door creaked open. She lifted her head, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach.


    Of course it was him.


    He stood silhouetted in the doorway, the dim light from the hallway outlining his frame. He looked... as always. As what? she thought, a surge of frustration warring with a queasy bitterness in her chest. Cold? Distant? Untouchable? Disturbingly handsome...? She banished the thought with a sigh.


    "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice sharper than intended. The cramps were intensifying, each wave of pain leaving her feeling weaker and more irritable.


    Arthur glanced at her, his expression unreadable in the dim light, then back out the window. His gaze settled on the moon.


    "Can''t I just check on you?" he asked, his voice quiet.


    "You could," she retorted, "if that were something you actually did." She hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face in the worn fabric of the pillow. "Usually, you only show up when you need something."


    "That''s not¡ª"


    "Don''t bother," she interrupted, her voice muffled by the pillow. "And please, don''t call me your servant. Not tonight."


    He fell silent, the air between them thick with unspoken emotions. She appreciated his sensitivity, his ability to sense her shifting moods and back off when necessary. He could be infuriatingly oblivious at times, but he never intentionally made her feel small or insignificant. Which was more than she could say for some...


    "Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.


    "No."


    He hesitated. "Do you... need something? Anything?"


    "No. Just... go away, Arthur."


    He sat down and shifted on the couch. There was a strange, almost scared look in his eyes, but Astrid was unable to make it out and gave up soon. She was too cranky for this.


    He seemed to be wrestling with something, his usual composure faltering. Something far more out of control. He was tapping his feet past, biting the corner of his lip as he brainstored.


    Stop biting your lip damn it!


    Suddenly, Arthur bent down and started rummaging under the bed.


    A groan escaped Astrid''s lips as another wave of pain washed over her. She curled into a foetal position, her body a tight knot of misery and pain. She could seal the pain away with her arcanum, but the cold sweat beading on her forehead told her that her body needed to run its course.


    Besides, she couldn''t bring herself to erase the pain completely, as if it were nothing, as if she were nothing.


    "Astrid?" Arthur''s voice was muffled, distant. He was practically hanging upside down, his long limbs tangled amongst the clutter beneath the bed.


    "What?" she mumbled, her voice barely audible.


    "Are you alright?"


    "Do I look alright?" she retorted, her voice thick with sarcasm.


    "You seem to be in pain," he said, his voice laced with concern.


    "No, really? I hadn''t noticed," she muttered.


    "You can seal the pain, can''t you?"


    "Yes, but I don''t want to," she snapped, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "It''ll just cause problems later." She didn''t add that she also didn''t want to erase the pain completely, as if it were nothing, as if she were nothing. "Just leave it, okay?"


    "Why are you being so difficult?" he asked, curiously.


    "Why are you being so... you?" she shot back, her voice cracking with the force of her own outburst. She rarely raised her voice at him, not just because she felt shy around him, but because... well, she wasn''t supposed to. She was his servant, after all. Technically, he shouldn''t even be pretending to care.


    Silence descended upon the room.


    "Finally..."


    She felt the bed dip behind her as Arthur let out a sigh of satisfaction. Her irritation flared again. He hadn''t even acknowledged her outburst, her pain. He was too focused on whatever he was searching for under her bed.


    Arthur was holding a dust-covered book and a medallion. He settled down beside her, his arm brushing against her back. A jolt of electricity shot through her, and he pulled away quickly, as if burned by her touch.


    Astrid''s anger evaporated, replaced by a confusing flutter in her chest.


    "What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The warmth where his arm had touched her lingered, spreading through her like a wildfire.


    "Nothing," he mumbled, too focused. Too unfocused.


    "Nothing? Then why are you here? You could have stayed on the couch," she said, her voice barely audible.


    "Yeah, but it is warm near you."


    "Wha¡ª"


    "I mean, you have been practically dozing off here since forever so I am sure it''s quite warm by now." He pretentiously entered into her blanket, maintaining a respectable distance from her as well.


    A part of her wanted to turn towards him but his recent attitude, especially after the whole Wujin attack had assured her that he wanted one thing from her. And that subservience held her back.


    "I know you''re just using me," she blurted out, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Keeping me around because I''m convenient. A portable first aid kit."


    "Untrue." he spoke without turning.


    "Don''t lie to me, Arthur," she interrupted, her voice trembling. "What if I wasn''t useful anymore? What if I couldn''t heal you?"


    "That doesn''t matter," he said, his voice low and intense as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You''re not just... a healer to me. You''re..." He struggled to find the right words. "You''re important."


    Her breath hitched. Was he... was he saying what she thought he was saying?


    "But what if..." she began, then stopped, unable to voice the fear that gnawed at her.


    "There are no ''what ifs''," he said firmly, his gaze holding hers. "I wouldn''t have left you, regardless. I never knew you had healing properties when I saved you." He looked away and as if reassuring himself, whispered to himself. "Yes. I didn''t."


    A wave of warmth washed over her, melting away the last vestiges of her anger and doubt.


    "Arthur, I¡ª"


    "Can you just... trust me?" He asked, looking in her eyes.


    She hesitated, then nodded slowly.


    "Aaaand can you help me with this?" He suddenly held out the tome and medallion.


    She looked at him with wide eyes. "Unfuckingbelieveable."


    "Ok, no, so hear me out, Astr¨C"


    "H?ll k?ften, dra ?t helvete och l?mna mig ifred."


    "Your Norwegian ancestors will be turning in their graves¡­"


    "Fuck them." She draped the blanket over herself and then turned back,


    "Astaghfirullah." Arthur touched his ears.


    Rolling the blanket and pulling it from the corners, she rolled and hid herself inside it.


    "Is turning into a human blanket shrimp your way of rebelling?"


    "Uansett."


    Gripping the bridge of his nose, Arthur turned his attention back to the tome. The inner side of the book had a small indention into it. It was shaped in a way that it didn''t seem like any object, however; when Arthur looked at the medallion, he could make sense of it now.


    The arrow shaped medallion''s head was turned back. Which is why the shape of the book felt so strange. He looked over his shoulder in Astrid''s direction.


    Her arcanum was erratic, and unstable, leaking in and out of control. The presence of arcanum leaking was something Arthur wasn''t very fond of.


    "Astrid you are leakin¡ªyour arcanum is leaking. Put a hold on it." He spoke, looking back towards the tome.


    "Urmmm¡ª" Astrid moaned as she yawned like a cat.


    Suddenly, the arcanum from Astrid''s node seeped into the medallion and it latched itself on the tome. Like a magnet to a fridge. She turned around and looked at Arthur with dreamy, half closed eyes.


    "I can''t help it, ok?"


    Despite the weird pull at his consciousness, Arthur couldn''t help but compliment¡ªmentally¡ªat how long Astrid''s lashes had become. The beauty fell into a backdrop as the tug on his consciousness grew stronger. He tried to fight it, but before he knew it, he found himself suspended in a dark void.


    "What¡­?"

 Chapter 64 - Interlude - Proxy

    "Eat my ass! Picturesque beauty they said!" The modestly heighted man cursed under his breath as he looked outside the window that was under the assault of the constant pitter patter of the rain. "Damn these Olvasens¡­and this weather."


    The current head of the Andersens¡ªBlake Andersen¡ªwas caught in quite a pandemonium. The effaced, putrefying head with foetid remains all inside the metallic box created such a stench that it would''ve made any person hurl their guts out.


    However, it was neither the stench, nor the fact that the head of someone who had served Blake for years¡ªreligiously, almost¡ªwas right in front of him, that rendered him in such a flummoxed state of mind, no. It was much easier. Less complicated. The source of his "anxiety" was the letter attached to the box.


    ¨q©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨r


    We shall have a meeting on


    15th of December, 2023.


    ¨t©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨s


    It was a short and concise letter. Blake''s phone rested right beside the letter, screen alit. It said;


    ¨q©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨r


    Since a fortnight has passed


    following the unexplained


    evanishment of both the Lord


    and the Heir to House Olvasen,


    it is hereby decreed that the


    next male of the line shall be


    installed as proxy patriarch.


    He shall assume this role with


    full authority, upholding the


    duties and responsibilities of


    the Olvasen legacy until such


    time as the demise of the former


    Lord and Heir has been ascertained


    beyond all doubt.


    ~Albert ¨t(*¡ã¨Œ¡ã*)¨s


    ¨t©¤©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¥©¤¨s


    Blake shook his head and frowned, looking at the last part. "What are you? Some teenager?!" He scoffed to himself before sipping in the ''coffee'' that was suspiciously white. Almost as if it was milk with a single grain of coffee still floating on the surface, along the edge of the cream.


    "He''s just a normal boy with no powers. Why am I so¡­rattled?" There was a tremble in his arcanum¡­no, rather, it was localised. He couldn''t make sense of it, but he had been feeling it ever since Albert informed of Eric''s arrival.


    Thunder rumbled and rain poured down with a tired sigh as it continued the monotonous routine of this part of the world.


    The door creaked and a man clad in a red cloak walked in. His dark eyes were unfocused underneath the few strands of hair that had escaped his gelled slick back hair. "My lord."


    Blake turned and looked at him. "Oh, Connor." He was looking at the leader of Andersen''s red cloaks with a rather distasteful expression before speaking again. "What is it?"


    The Seven Syndicates have gathered Arcanum users, and in some very rare cases, smaller arcanum families¡ªwhich were able to produce an arcanum user once every few years or a decade¡ªover the past hundreds of thousands of years. These people were used for personal power or breeding.


    Everyone had their own ways to do it. For the Andersens, their attack force was categorised using ''cloaks.'' Red, Black and White Cloaks. Of course, as one would guess, the difference relied solely on the "amount" of arcanum a cloak holder held, with White Cloaks being powerful enough to contest and in some cases even beat¡ªkill¡ªmatured heirs.


    Since this was something that had happened in the past. While not exactly "cloaks," every syndicate has some sort of an order that they command¡ªexcept the Olvasens¡ªusing them for different purposes. Although it was not that the Olvasens did NOT have any private force, it was just that they refused to give their order an official name, waiving it off as something extremely extravagant.


    Which was kind of against their very nature of displaying power, wealth and authority.


    The unfocused look on Connor''s face dissipated for a moment before returning back instantly. "The proxy lord to Olvasens is here. Your presence is demanded at the earliest."


    Taking another sip of the overly sweet liquid, Blake huffed and rushed past Connor. As he walked a few steps away, he stopped and looked back. "Do you remember now? After seeing the boy''s face?"


    His pupils dilated. "No, my lord¡­no." His words drawled, like under some kind of anaesthesia.


    "Alright. Stay out of our sights for the most part." Blake said and Connor nodded. "We need to understand how they did what they did to you."


    "Yes."


    Turning on his heel, Blake bit the corner of his lip and started to walk away. The tapestry of a man coiled in multi-coloured energy and the world swirling into a vortex amidst twisted dimensions lined the entirety of the roof of the uppermost floor in Fjellborg. Blake casted a look at the giant eye of the man, welding a sword and beheading someone¡ªsomething¡ªand sighed.


    Blake came to a stop, his steps barely a breath on the ground. He tilted his head to the right, glaring at the window to his left as the lightning blinded him for a few fleeting seconds. A sneer twisted his mouth. "What a fuckin'' piss-stained excuse for a day to deal with this goddamn "political" shitshow." His voice dripped with disgust at the prospect of him leaving his work and coming to meet someone without an arcane art.


    Turning sharply to his left, he barked, "You ready, Kwame?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The dark skinned man only shook his head in reply and shrugged his shoulders. Pointing towards the door handle, Kwame tilted his neck. "You do the honours."


    "Fuck you."


    "As you wish." Kwame suppressed a scoff and pulled the door open. He bowed ever so slightly in a condescending way. "After you." The door¡ªglass or crystal framed in intricate silver vines¡ªgave way as Kwame pulled it open.


    The air was thick with Arcanum, dense enough to almost veil the potent signatures of those gathered within the chamber beyond. Or rather, it was the blistering Arcanum of those assembled, tangled together so tightly it was near impossible to distinguish one presence from the next.


    Hiroshi Watanabe looked at the two entering from the corner of his eye as he was taking support against the wall next to the window, a cigar pressed so lightly between his teeth that it made it look like it would fall at any moment. The smoke of the cigar curled and drifted upwards, before dissipating.


    He was standing in front of Rafael Miranda who was also holding a cigarette between his lips. His cheeks puckered in and the cigarette''s tip became alit as he inhaled the smoke and then let it out with a quick breath,


    "You''re late." Hiroshi looked distasteful as he talked.


    Blake''s nose crinkled. "I have matters to attend to. Not just idle gossip."


    Rafael''s tanned skin seemed to glow for a moment as he looked between Kwame and Blake. "Where is Lawrence?" He asked, ignoring the growing scuffle between Hiroshi and Blake. "He has maintained a suspicious distance from the matters of the Syndicates over the past month; ever since the Olvasens and Michael have disappeared." He took in another heavy inhale of the smoke, studying Kwame''s mechanically neutral face. "It is concerning, my friend."


    "You know him, Raf." Kwame replied with a rather informal tone. "He won''t be roped into customs established for the rest of us."


    "I understand." Rafael replied, giving his curly blonde hair a twirl. "However, it is increasingly suspicious and unsafe. It can result in unwanted skirmishes."


    "Unsafe?"


    "The announcement of arcanum and Adam''s battle armour were sourced from a billionaire¡ªCEO of Ashford Inc.¡ª in America. Ever since then, he has been attending these meetings less and less. Even after the disappearance of his own son." Rafael continued. "I am aware this is not a good moment to voice this out, however; the matter can''t be waived off and delayed. Not anymore."


    "I am aware of the young''un behind the leakage of intel on Arcanum." Kwame responded. "I am in a unique relationship with him and I, myself, am very curious about what you''ve just said." He paused and pondered over his next set of words, carefully. "However, there is no viable proof or solid grounds to base this assumption of yours."


    "It is an educated guess." Rafael turned around, taking support over a cane crafted from polished ebony. A simple silver band encircled the top, engraved with a latin motto. The ferrule, the metal tip that met the marble beneath, was also silver. "There''s a difference."


    Kwame stared at him for a moment before cracking a slight, genuine smile. "Apologies?"


    Rafael, in turn, only sighed exasperatingly. "Forgiven." Clutching the bridge of his nose, he looked back at Hiroshi. "Told you I am not good at this. Not with him."


    The short man only grumbled incoherently in reply and turned back towards the window, leaning against the wall beside it and continued indulging in his cigar.


    "What was that about, huh?" Blake came closer to Kwame.


    "Communicating like a civil human." He replied with an air of nonchalance.


    The air was as tense as it could be when the doors flew open. Appearing from the other side was a boy who looked to be in his earlier twenties¡ªeven younger, if not for the huge dark circles around his eyes.


    The atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife. How much had he heard? Since when was he standing there? It wasn''t nervousness that they felt, but rather irritation. Not all of them felt the same, of course.


    The soft light overhead gleamed off his blond hair, and the slight, barely perceptible layer of arcanum right over his skin tossed the back of his coat wildly. His green eyes were blazing with internal light. His eyes surveyed the whole place before landing on his feet. "Greetings, patriarchs."


    He spoke and rummaged through his pockets. Taking a cigarette out of his pocket, he pressed it between his lips and lit it up. The sound of lighter clicking on and off and the dull sizzle of the cigarette paper burning filled the air. "Apologies for my late arrival and¡­" he looked around, taking in the not-so amused look on everyone''s faces, "...ruly appearance. I have been through a lot for the past few days."


    A self indulgent snicker escaped his lips. "Feeling very upside down." His tired, half-opened green eyes landed on Blake. Despite it being his first time seeing the patriarchs, on an instinctual level, Eric could tell who Blake was, given that his arcanum was what made it difficult for him to breathe.


    Pressing his lips together, Eric wiped the grin off his face. Looking up at Rafael, he motioned with the hand that held the cigarette. "May I?''"


    The crease on Rafael''s forehead evened out. "Of course."


    Rafael and Hiroshi were the first to move, followed by Kwame. Leaving the two head chairs empty, the three of them seated comfortably, at safe distances away from each other. Eric watched them with a stern look, but he couldn''t stop the quaking in his legs and his heart from beating like a gorilla against his chest.


    His skin had roughened up from the constant goosebumps ever since he had arrived at Fjellborg, and his legs had become numb. He was, afterall, just average¡ªprobably below average since he couldn''t even awaken an elemental affinity¡ªwhen compared to others in the same boots as him. The Patriarchs were a faraway shot, even most of those lower in age than him were much stronger. It was this exact disparity in strength which made the other patriarchs a bit uncomfortable¡ªor rather, displeased¡ªwith his presence inside a chamber not even the heirs were allowed in.


    The hair on the back of Eric''s neck rose and he took a step to the side, just in time as Albert materialised out of thin air and landed in the place where Eric was standing a moment ago. "Oh? Hoho, pardon my manners." He gave Eric a deep bow and then straightened his back.


    "Uh hi, dracula man." Eric awkwardly greeted, throwing the cigarette down on the floor before crushing it with the hell of his boot.


    "Kuku, interesting choice of words." He extended his hand and motioned towards the chair at arm''s length, right at the second head chair.


    "It seems you have met the quirky Albert already." Rafael spoke with a practised smile.


    "I have." Eric admitted with a half-hearted reply as he pulled the chair and was about to sit down.


    Albert''s hand wrapped around Eric''s waist and held him standing. Eric frowned and looked at Albert, looking in his slit amethyst eyes. However, his attention soon shifted to the seat that was placed in the far corner of the room.


    "Seriously?" Blake was the one who spoke. "Have we fallen so low? So low we have to let someone who can''t even detect the basic and blatant activation of an arcane art into our ranks?"


    Eric frowned but kept his words tightly clasped between his clenched teeth. He knew that speaking pretentiously could result in ramifications he was unable to confront.


    "And what does your lordship suggest, might I ask?" Albert asked, the smile never leaving his lips.


    "What should''ve been done instead of all this proxy bullshit." He cocked his head to the side. "The Olvasens are done for anyways. The Syndicates are based on those who can carry the arcane arts of our father Adam." His tone turned sharp and arcanum bristled in all directions, like claws of an eagle narrowing down on its prey.


    The goblet on the table suddenly quivered and shattered before tiny shrapnels flew like mini bullets towards Blake.


    Arms still crossed, he stood seated as the shrapnels vanished and were then nowhere to be seen. Despite being completely and utterly unharmed, there was a look of astonishment on his face that mirrored a stupefied child in a circus.


    "I do not wish a show of power, Mr Andersen." Eric took a seat and looked up. "I am sure you don''t either. It is highly¡­uncivil." His eyes turned towards Kwame and the corners crinkled.


    He fumed but Rafael suddenly tapped his cane on the ground. "Words are not to be thrown around so casually." He spoke with a voice full of dignity. "We hold a very prestigious position amidst all humanity. Let''s not act like beasts."


    "Hmm." Hiroshi quietly hummed, arms crossed as he stared at Eric.


    Everyone suddenly came to a quick agreement and the hostility vanished in the air.


    Eric settled back into his seat as he crossed his fingers. "Let''s be over with it."


    *****************


    "There, done." Eric breathed out a sigh as he fastened the bandage off the bleeding stub of an injury. "God I hope Arthur acts as his aloof self and doesn''t notice you." He spoke with a shiver as his hand ruffled the white pelt.


    "Dinner''s ready, Eric." Lila, Eric''s girlfriend, called out and peaked her head from the door. "Stop talking about little brother again and come out. Dinner will get cold quickly." She reprimanded as Eric kissed the white pelt before standing up.


    "Yes, yes." He grabbed Lila suddenly by the waist and pulled her back. "I was craving some fish after dinner as well." He breathed into her ear.


    Smirking to herself, she bit her lip. "We''ll see about that."


    Breaking free of his grip, she happily jumped away. Eric shook his head and smiled to himself, the gloom and melancholy from a few days ago totally unpresent. As he was about to go, he looked outside the window. "Oh Goddess." He prayed under his breath. "Was it really wise to let her go out like that?"

 Chapter 65 - The Beginning of The End

    Peering over the edge of the cliff I was standing on, a knot formed in my stomach. The forest stretched endlessly below, an impenetrable mass of trees that seemed to spill out into the horizon.


    The canopy was thick, hiding whatever laid beneath. Large birds and other winged creatures soared overhead, dipping down to snatch their prey before disappearing back into the trees.


    But what unnerved me more than the predators in the sky were the distant roars that rumbled through the air. I could only guess at the size of the monsters that made them, their cries strong enough to shake the very trees that stood in their path.


    "These uncharted lands are without question a sight of great beauty," A delicate sound announced as she walked up to my level and then stopped, eyes focused on the forest ahead.


    "And dangerous." I replied, but I could see myself saying it out loud.


    How was it possible? I felt like a spirit watching my own body move and talk.


    "Peril looms over beauty, my dearest." The woman who looked no older than 25 spoke up, the silver braid resting loosely on her shoulder. "One of the very few things I have come to agree upon with you." The silver lining of her lips curved like a crescent as the skin around her perfect blue eyes crinkled. "I will wait in the tent. Don''t be out for too long."


    "Yeah." I¡ªthe man, replied. It was a fairly tall man with dirty blonde hair spilling in rough, curly locks on his face and reached well below his nape. One of his hands was tucked inside his pocket and the other one dangled loosely by his side, sheathed in what looked like a black, nylon glove.


    Suddenly he looked over his shoulder, towards me. Inside me. Somewhere behind me, and miles away. The storm that brewed in those pale grey eyes saw through the seemingly frail boundaries of space and time which inadvertently connected back to me.


    "What a gaunt and feeble boy." He commented and looked ahead. Overhead, the congregation of clouds thickened and the air in my lungs turned heavy, atmosphere going damp. He looked back at me and raised a brow.


    "Are you talking to me?" I asked the man.


    A man who looked eerily similar to¡­myself? Or Aksel? I couldn''t put my finger on it.


    A look of pity appeared on his face. The kind of pity you would show to someone who is very unfortunate. Or has lost everything. "Tell me, spectre, are there others who linger here, unseen, besides us?"


    I felt my lips flutter. "I¡ª"


    This sort of hesitation was rare inside me. I looked around, the rolling hills, the scores of trees underneath the edge of the cliff and the faint reflection of blue in the faraway distance of the sea. "Where am I?"


    The man looked ahead, and the scenery shifted. Tall, chunky trees surrounded us and a few streaks of muted sunlight filtered through. I looked around, subtle, instinctual panic taking root inside me. Arcanum moved around to coat my body, but deep down I knew it¡ªthere was no use.


    "The uncharted realms, or so it would seem." He replied, his voice gravely against the soft murmurs of the forest. "They named it Earth¡ªa peculiar turn of phrase, don''t you think? Earth surrounds us, lies beneath our very feet, yet does that warrant naming the whole of the land thus? Surely you see the oddity in it?"


    "Names do not have much significance." I replied, voicing out my thoughts as I touched one of the trees. It was cold to the touch, and it was pulsing beneath the hard bark. Rich in arcanum¡ªextremely¡ªI noticed.


    "Enlighten me."


    "Names are just arbitrary labels we assign to things for identification. The true nature or essence of anything doesn''t change based on what it''s called." I argued, feeling my node brim and fill with the ambient arcanum that was filled inside the tree like an over-inflated balloon.


    "While names may seem arbitrary, they hold significance in how we categorise and relate to the world. Names are essential because they link actions to individuals. Without them, achievements lose context and meaning, leaving deeds unrecognised."


    I took a moment to process what he had said and then replied: "Fool''s dream."


    "Hmm?" He hummed quizzically, in a way that was much like me¡ªagain.


    "Names may be used to link deeds, but their importance is fleeting. Over time, stories change, and deeds are distorted by rumours and the passage of history. After a hundred years, the truth behind the name becomes unrecognisable. So, placing value on names is futile¡ªwhatever they represent will eventually vanish or be warped beyond recognition."


    The man shifted and faced me. Thick blonde beard and long moustache made his face even manlier than it already felt from the build of his body. "If deeds fade with time and names lose their meaning, then how do we even recognize the fading or distortion in the first place? If everything eventually vanishes or becomes unreliable, then even the concept of ''vanishing'' itself becomes uncertain."


    I stayed silent for a while. If that is it, then we are just talking in circles.


    "Tell me your name, boy." The man spoke as his gloved hand reached for the hilt of his sword.


    "Arthur¡­Olvasen." I replied, feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand. Every fibre of my being was begging me to get on my knees and ask for forgiveness. My knees felt weak, even though there was no sense of danger from the man.


    "Hmm. Arthur¡ª" He spoke my name, repeatedly. His tongue rolled around his mouth, as if he was savouring it. "¡ªa sweet name, indeed." His pale grey eyes turned moist for a fleeting second as he looked at me. "I had a brother named Arthur."


    "My condolences."


    "How would you know he''s not around anymore."


    "Past tense."


    "I do not grasp the words you say, boy¡ªArthur." He scoffed and removed his hand from the hilt of his sword.


    "Right¡­" I let my words drawl, "...of course you won''t understand what Norwegian grammar is."


    "You say some strange words, boy." He looked up at the¡­clear blue sky?


    Once again, I stumbled a little, and looked around. The heat was prickling hot around me. I faltered. My steps felt heavy, unsteady, as though the very ground beneath me pushed back against my movements.


    Around me, the heat pressed down, prickling against my skin. The sun blazed so fiercely in the sky that it felt as though the moisture in my eyes had been stolen away.


    Miles upon miles of sand stretched into infinity, a golden wasteland shimmering with waves of heat. The wind was even fiercer¡ªincreasing the heat, so dry it felt as though it could strip my skin.


    I looked at the bearded man who solemnly looked at the vast expanse. This man''s powers¡­he was too strong. I felt like if I moved even a hair, I would be killed. This kind of overwhelming strength¡­even Aksel and Jayden can''t compare.


    He got on one knee and scooped up a handful of sand which slowly started to slip through his fingertips. "This part¡­this world is a marvel¡ªso beautiful, yet achingly lonesome. A world frozen in the jar of time. Preserved in its desolation. Like Eden, before it was touched by man as it once laid in a cradle of unbroken silence."


    My ears perked at the familiar name. However, I didn''t move. Just simply kept my eyes on the man. His beard felt even more golden now that the sun was shining so bright. His eyes were even paler than me, so much that I couldn''t tell if he was blind or not.


    "This¡­" he whispered, his voice softer now, almost mournful. "This is where it all begins and ends. Where the infinite echoes back, and the silence speaks louder than the noise ever could."


    The scenery changed and we were back into the forest. He ran a hand along the weathered bark of a nearby tree. His gaze wandered, not to the tree or the land, but to something unseen, as though he spoke more to the infinite than to the one listening.


    "Do you know, boy?"


    "Sorry?"


    "How did we¡ªseemingly inferior species, of all other creatures¡ªendured everything that those cursed fuckers have thrown on this world? What thread binds us so tightly to life that we bend death itself, while others fade with the turning of the seasons?" He looked into my eyes and suddenly the congregation of grey clouds returned. "Over the centuries?"


    Cursed fuckers? Who is he referring to?


    I stood at the edge of the cliff, the salt-laden wind whipping against my face. Below, the sea raged with a primal ferocity. Waves swelled and crashed against jagged rocks, spray rising like a foamy mist. The water stretched endlessly, a dark, churning expanse that pulled at the horizon.


    "Why are we¡ªas species¡ªstill alive after all the extinctions that have plagued this world since time immemorial?"


    A gust of wind swept through the clearing, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and distant rain. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the chill bite into his skin.


    "It is not strength," he said finally, his voice steadier now. "A Wujin has its giant snout and fangs; the gravehawk, its claws. Nor is it swiftness or cunning alone, for these belong to beasts as well. No, it is something far greater. We''ve lived through wipes of the worlds because we adapt."


    "Worlds? Wipes?"


    "You ask the wrong questions, boy." He interrupted me.


    Suddenly the smell of daffodils filled the air. I turned around and an endless stream of flowers came into sight. The sheer intensity of it¡ªthe vivid colours, the layered fragrances¡ªhit me all at once, a sensory assault that made my thoughts falter.


    "Where the world changes, we change with it. Where the seas rise, we build atop them. Where the earth hardens, we learn to till its stone. This is our gift and our burden. We do not yield; we become."


    I nodded my head, hesitatingly. "Nice pep talk." I uttered, my lips oddly sticky as I ran my tongue on it. "But¡ªI am not here to talk about philosophy about human survival."


    "Technically you are not even here." The man replied and looked at me. Multi-coloured lightning and a plethora of galaxies seemed to drift into his pale grey eyes. "Technically speaking, even I am physically un-present here."


    "What?" I felt my brows pinch.


    [Arthur!]


    "You are talking to a fragment of a memory. A residual¡ªof my arcanum. Carrying my essence." He finished and suddenly the scenery shifted. This time I was inside the house¡ªthe Olvasen''s family house in Bergen.


    "Nice place." He looked around the room reserved for Luna.


    "It''s a dog''s room." I replied, looking at his features closely. "Hey, so what do you mean by fragment of a memory?"


    The man turned around at me, the small ornament attached to the hilt of his sword jingling. "Dog? What is that?"


    "An¡­animal?" Suddenly things started to make sense. Of course he doesn''t know about dogs. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Who are you?" I asked and at the same time we were suddenly inside a hospital.


    I saw myself, small and meek. I was¡­crying?


    Why¡­? I don''t remember this.


    A blurry haze covered everyone''s faces, a grey mist that obscured everything like smoke trapped in a glass.


    "Fragmented. Or perhaps veiled." The man''s voice was calm yet carried an undercurrent of thunder. He reached out, brushing the mist that clung to a passing nurse''s face, the haze rippling like liquid caught between solid and air. "Such mastery over the arcane art¡­ utterly flawless."


    His storm-grey eyes shifted toward me, and in that moment, it felt as though lightning wrapped around my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs.


    "Time is of essence."


    [Arthur!]


    I felt my knees touch the soft ground beneath as I was now crouching in front of a small hut in the middle of a forest with trees so densely clamped that it made me feel minutely claustrophobic as they choked out the sky.


    "I need answers." I growled, feeling the crackling energy of lightning surge around me, arcing in violent sparks.


    The man flicked his fingers and in that very instant, the multi-coloured lightning immediately got snuffed out, like a candle in a thunderstorm. He turned around, looking over his shoulder. "It seems like you do not understand where you stand. Boy."


    His joints cracked as he looked back at me and emphasised on the boy part. A pair of irises¡ªone in each eye¡ªappeared and all 4 of them focused on me. "There is a lot you need to learn and improve on." He cocked his head to the side. "Although, you are not ready."


    "Ready for what?"


    "What I failed at." He answered, his voice like the dull edge of a blade. "And what you will succeed at."


    "You do not know me."


    "Yes." The world around me started to crack, cobwebbing like the thousand splintered aspects of my mind, trying to piece together his words and the events into something that provided the minutest bit of coherence. "But I can feel you."


    "You are not making sense."


    [Arthur! Please¡­]


    My arcanum suddenly spiked as I looked around. The entire world was burning, people crying¡ªdying moans, everywhere. Structures¡ªcolossal and minute¡ªcrumbled to the ground as I stood in the middle of it.


    "Arthur." The man called out, the condescension nothing but an echo of the past. "Your world is next." His eyes glowed menacingly. "You have a lot to learn." His words grew grim as lightning arced throughout the sky. "As you stand right now, you are nothing more than a hatchling wishing to be squashed."


    Through the distant crack in the sky, a single clawed arm managed to creep through, the size so colossal that it seemed to cover an entire world just at the tip of its fingers. The glow from the hand seared into my eyes and I felt my arcanum bubbling like hot lava, ready to combust out of the volcano.


    "Your attempts will all end in vain." The words echoed and thick streams of blood started to flow from my ears. Falling to my knees, I clutched my ears, somehow trying to muffle out the sound, but all I was met with was disappointment.


    "Give it up. You will never, EVER succeed against me."


    A bubble of arcanum, so potent that it caved the entire world inwards, spiraled around the bearded man as he laughed. "Is that so, Almighty?" His words were full of scorn.


    Before I could even begin to process what was happening, the world around me started to tear itself apart. The air around me flickered, as if the very fabric of reality was coming undone.


    The ground beneath my feet trembled, like it was trying to throw me off. Cracks spread in the earth, but it wasn''t just the land that was breaking¡ªeverything was. The sky twisted and bled colours that didn''t belong, swirling in a chaotic mess.


    The noise¡ªit was deafening. Not the crash of buildings falling, not the screams of people, but something deeper, a noise that came from inside everything. The world was ripping at the seams, and I could feel it in my bones. I could feel it in the air, in the ground, in the very space I was standing in.


    [ARTHUR¡­! Please¡­please come back to me.]


    And then, everything stopped. Or maybe, I just stopped. Time seemed to stretch out, hanging in the air like smoke.


    The arm made from the purest form of arcanum that had protruded out of the sky disintegrated, and so did the man. As he laid on the crimson drenched grass, his four irises flicked towards me. "End the technique. Free yourself."


    What is he saying?


    A crack ran along his face and then he broke¡ªshattered like a mug thrown from a skyscraper, breaking down to a million different pieces. The shards flew towards me and entered my chest.


    Suddenly, I felt blood drip from my chest, warm against the cold wind that whipped across the cliff''s edge. My fingers trembled as they brushed the hilt of the knife buried deep where the shards had once rooted themselves¡ªwhere I had once been whole. A searing pain radiated from the wound, but it wasn''t the blade that hurt.


    It was her. And the pain that ensued wasn''t even mine.


    The woman was standing behind me, white hair clinging to her tear-streaked face, her hand still outstretched as if she could take it all back. As if the knife hadn''t already done what we both knew had to be done.


    Her lips quivered, forming words she couldn''t say. But her eyes¡ªthey said enough.


    The scenery had shifted and now I was standing atop the same cliff as before, looking over the vast ocean that seemed to stretch towards the end of the world and a shimmer of fog covered the horizon, forming a bubbly cone that rose to the skies. A single, hawklike creature circled the cone, cawing loudly.


    "Art¡ªArthur, please¡­Wake up, I don''t want to leave you here¡­"


    My legs wavered, but I didn''t fall into the rolling tides beneath. I couldn''t. Not yet. Not until I faced her one last time.


    Her voice broke the silence, soft, trembling, yet cutting deeper than the blade. "I''m sorry¡­ I had to." Her breath hitched. "You''re an incurable cyst that has grown too far... for this world and to that one¡­" Her voice cracked, and I could almost hear the pieces of her heart shattering with each word.


    My lips moved of their own accord, and something deeper¡ªsomething I, he had buried beneath pride and despair¡ªspoke instead.


    "I love you."


    They weren''t meant to comfort. They weren''t even meant for her forgiveness. They were a confession. An acceptance.


    They were just¡­truth. The one truth ''I'' had left amidst the colossal mountain of sins and lies ''I'' had committed.


    Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the world stood still. Not even the hawk''s cries reached us now. It was just her and ''me'', standing on the precipice of something neither of us could control.


    A tear slipped down her cheek. She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "Why now?"


    I¡ªhe managed a weak smile. "Because it''s all I have left."


    As my knees gave way, and ''I'' sank toward the earth, I¡ªhe realized¡­it was enough.


    (***)


    Minji always knew what it was like to fight for what little she had. She had grown up an orphan, raised in a cramped alley near Seoul''s bustling markets. Her earliest memories were of the faint smell of flour, sizzling oil, and the sound of her grandfather''s gruff voice calling out to passing pedestrians, trying to sell his pajeons.


    Life had always been simple yet harsh¡ªalways scraping by, always finding ways to get by in the cramped street markets. She never had the luxury of feeling safe, or even sure of where her next meal would come from.


    But there was comfort in routine. Each morning, Minji helped her grandfather prepare the pajeons, mixing the batter, filling it with kimchi and vegetables, and cooking it on the griddle. She had learned from him, taking pride in their food¡ªsimple, hearty, and warm.


    Her grandfather was all she had left, the only family she had known for as long as she could remember. They had a rhythm. She worked, he talked to the customers, and together they made ends meet.


    She had seen many faces come and go from their stall, some friendly, some cold, but there was one day that had been different.


    It was during one of the colder days that he appeared. He had white hair, strikingly pale, like fresh snow under the midday sun. His eyes were golden¡ªan unnatural, mesmerising gold that made her stomach turn.


    She thought she had seen him before, but his presence felt like it belonged to another world entirely, out of place in this crowded market.


    There was something about him that unsettled her, a strange aura that surrounded him. His name, she later learned from a passing conversation, was Michael. A name that seemed to have no weight in her world, as if it belonged to a different place, a different time.


    And then there was something strange. The two people who had been with him¡ªboth were equally strange. The woman, Astrid, with her long silver hair, and the man beside her, Arthur, whose features were sharp, angular, like a sculpture crafted from stone.


    They didn''t belong in the streets of Seoul. They were so out of place, like something foreign. Minji had never seen anyone like them before. They all looked as if they''d just stepped out of a Wattpad fanfiction.


    The encounter was brief. They ate their pajeons, exchanged a few polite words, and then disappeared as soon as they had come. If she had even a little bit of doubt in herself, she''d have thought she was schizophrenic. But she knew she was not. But the thought of a guy travelling away in lightning was too much to make sense of.


    But even more than that, it was Michael who had left Minji with a strange feeling in her chest. Something about Michael''s eyes, the way his gaze seemed to see through her, and the odd feeling that clung to the air after he was gone, made her feel like something important had passed her by.


    But there was no time for those thoughts. Minutes later, everything had changed.


    The sirens started first, faintly, and then grew louder. News broadcasts on the streets were filled with frantic updates. People were in a panic. The government issued evacuation orders, but the reason was vague¡ªjust rumours about strange occurrences in the sky, magical creatures sighting etcetera.


    The chatter didn''t make sense. There had been stories, rumours, even legends, of magical creatures, but they were supposed to be merely fables.


    At first, Minji had thought it was just another false alarm¡ªan overblown fear. But the atmosphere in the streets became heavy. People rushed to pack what they could, dragging their children along as they hastily prepared to leave.


    Her grandfather had been agitated, his wrinkled hands shaking as he packed away their stall, grumbling about how this was just like last time¡ªanother evacuation, another situation that would blow over.


    But it didn''t blow over.


    The evacuation turned out to be a forced relocation. It wasn''t a choice anymore; it was mandatory. Military personnel set up barricades, guiding people into designated shelter camps just outside the city, away from the so-called Shimmer.


    It was a strange phenomenon¡ªsomething they couldn''t explain but only knew as the shimmering barrier that had appeared over the main city of Seoul. For a month, it had stood there, untouched, ominous, as if waiting for something. Even the platoons that were inside the shimmer had no contact with the outside world.


    Minji had joined the crowds of people. Why were they all being forced into shelters? What was happening outside the city? There were rumours¡ªso many rumours. The shimmer was expanding. It wasn''t a natural occurrence.


    It was as though something was forcing its way into their world. Strange creatures were mentioned again, but she couldn''t make sense of it all. She couldn''t make sense of Michael, either.


    A month passed. The Shimmer grew. It was no longer a mysterious, far-off phenomenon. Now, it was a looming danger. Every day, more people were evacuated to the shelters, to these camps that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The army had taken control of the situation, and even the air felt different.


    It was charged, buzzing with an energy Minji couldn''t describe.


    And then, one day, on December 15, the Shimmer finally broke.


    One moment, everything was calm, and the next, there was a sharp, crackling sound, like the air molecules had split open. Minji''s breath caught in her throat as the ground shook beneath her feet.


    She stumbled forward, grabbing onto the railing of the shelter for balance. The sky fractured above her¡ªcracks that spread across the skies like lightning, but deeper, darker, and filled with an inorganic light.


    People screamed, running in every direction, but no one knew what was happening. The earth trembled beneath them, and the sky¡­ the sky felt like it was falling apart.


    Minji clutched her head, feeling dizzy. The world around her was wrong. The pull of the atmosphere felt like gravity was ripping everything at the seams.


    It was then that the pain hit.


    A sharp, searing pain shot through her heart and then into her body, as though every cell was being crushed. She gasped, clutching her chest, her knees buckling. Her vision blurred, her ears ringing as the world spun.


    She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She could feel it¡ªsomething inside her, something foreign, crawling beneath her skin like an insect.


    Minji gasped, her mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of what was happening.


    Unbeknownst to her, the Arcanum that was slowly trickling from Eden was now pouring into earth like water breaking from a broken dam.


    The arcanum was flowing towards everyone''s premature primary nodes. If a node has been developed through the usage in bloodline, one could accept it and awaken. Which was the case for the Seven Syndicates.


    However, for the normal people, the percentage of people who did not have a pre-mature primary node was¡­infinitesimally small.


    The energy coursing through her was more than she could handle, more than she ever thought possible.


    Around her, people screamed, clutching at their bodies, collapsing to the ground as the weight of the new gravity and their own heart ready to combust crushed them.


    Minji''s knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her vision clouding with black.


    A man to her right splattered into a blob of flesh and blood and mangled bones as the increased gravity started to crush buildings, cars and humans alike. A woman behind her exploded from her chest, leaving nothing but a giant gaping hole in her chest, big enough to hide a child inside it.


    Minji retched as another man fell right in front of her and was ironed down, his body flattening out like a thin piece of paper.


    "M-Mi" Her grandfather''s voice was an ocean of endless pain as his old bones began to crack as well. A bright orange light started to glow from underneath his wrinkled skin.


    She looked back, but no words came out. Her own pain was too large to reach out and offer any kind of solace to him.


    The man cried out, wailing, the influx of arcanum and the body''s rejection broiling his blood. Smoke rose from his ears, and nose and mouth as flames started to bite away at his insides.


    "No¡­please¡­someone¡­" She cried out, but nothing happened. No one came to help.


    No one.


    Who could''ve? A huge contingent of people were already on the ground from the increased gravity, the ones who could resist it were also on the ground, like Minji, trying to refuse the rejection of arcanum in their bodies.


    Her breathing shallowed and the world started to stain white. Her heart expanded so much that she just laid on the ground, looking up at the sky as her chest swelled. The same light as her grandfather illuminated her entire body, and the sensation of being burned alive sliced through her body.


    However, she just closed her eyes and whimpered.


    The end was getting near.


    She opened her eyes once last time, looking at the sky. Even the sun felt different to her. It wasn''t the same circular sun anymore; but rather it seemed like the intersection point of two circles.


    And then, the area around her exploded forming an average sedan-sized crater beneath her. And inside the crater, she hovered above it, her body suddenly feeling light despite the sudden increase in the ''g'' force.


    And then another explosion in the near distance. And another.


    A chain reaction of explosions continued and the people who were the cause of them started to feel light and were able to get back on their feet. Minji did the same, and albeit the sensation of someone hitting her with a hammer on head persisted, it was better than her heart being ripped apart.


    The people there started to look for their family members¡ªthe ones who were still in one piece, ignorant of the changes in their bodies.


    The first phase of the merger was here. A part of Eden and a part of Earth.


    Despite being on a smaller scale¡ªcomparatively¡ªthe advent of the merger was just on the horizon.