The Wielder of Death Magic

In there, an army of five-thousand strong marched. Trucks and military vehicles led at a slower pace; shining white and golden armor stood on at the front. Arms crossed and focus on the target. A rather tedious obstacle for an invasion.

‘Didn’t account for the terrain. These men are from my estate. Damn this girl,’ he side-glanced to silvery flowing hair, ‘-she failed in her schemes and somewhat managed to have the King accept her ideas. Our forces are tired, using my personal army for such a worthless endeavor, what a joke. A hero mustn’t go around flaunting his strength. Makes me look like Old man Cray, what will the princess think... I wish I could give her a word of gratitude.’

“Kion,” said the silver-haired lass, “-don’t lose focus, we’ve entered that man’s dominion.”

“And?” he briskly waved her worries, “-I will not falter in the task assigned,” smugly glaring at her seat, “-unlike some people I know.”

“Aww,” a mocking pout jabbed his nerves, “-is the hero feeling a little angry?” said she in baby-talk.

“Whatever,” he crossed his arms, “-I don’t much care for the childish taunts. Tell me, Lady Eira, what scheme have thee concocted today?”

.....

“A very simple one really,” she stared the coming meadow lined in dense forest, “-I didn’t expect my defeat to happened so easily. Therefore, I had our mages ready portals for immediate teleportation. Of course, since our version of the spell is a knock-off, we needed a whole lot more mana. Tis where a little bird whispered about the cult of Vane. Their practice of worship is a heaven of lust, anger, and clueless obedience. My prior steward, Undre, was quite the clever individual. He figured the plot and was killed in some dark alley. I had him switch place with an illusion-arts mage. After said incident, the hero’s team offered to join my conquest. Tis was quite easy to sneak a few people inside the town – the Guild Master and Steward especially. Key jobs occupied by us. I had ’em invite adventurers from Hidros, weak ones, hostages to be precise. Baron Igna’s a graduate from the Academy, a few friends gave the ideal situation. Once all was readied and settled, we only had to step back and watch. Let the town grown and spread our virus.”

“Impressive,” said he in a frown, “-such level of scheming and thee still lost, how did that happen?”

“Luck I suppose, or perhaps, a greater foe. Regardless, we have the town held hostage. Some of our strongest men are already present, any spark of rebellion must have been extinguished.”

“What if that man shows up to defend?”

“He won’t,” her beautiful lips contoured into a vile smirk, “-our guild master was generous to offer quests to the ‘hostages’. I’ve cursed the abandoned fortress and sent out fighters. One’s walking into a trap, whilst the other has brought forth the necessary items from another village. Their ultimate downfall was the supposed help by the academy.”

“I appreciate the monologue.”

“The hero isn’t one for underhanded games,” she retorted, “-no matter, I doubt a muscle-brained otherworlder will ever understand the importance of a good plan.”

“Please,” he chuckled, “-what a waste of a pretty face. I’d have never guessed a princess to be so shrewd and merciless.”

“Pretty face you say,” she winked, “-roses have thorns,” they approached a slight clearing, “-there’s the route over Calpter’s High.”

“It’s a shame we can’t have direct communication with the others. Five thousand men are overkill for such a feeble town.”

The dirt streets and stone-brick walls splattered across with the organs of the deceased. Glenda grew in the literal sense of the title, ‘-ghost town.’ Souls of the fallen devoured by demons, Gophy and Intherna stood with a stained attire and blemished expression. Onlookers of the guild watched through the cracked walls; mutilated bodies dyed the walkways red, though now it marred into the more obscure dark. They were saved to what extent, was the massacre necessary, the ways they died, the screams, the plea for mercy, defiance of he who had lost his wife crumbled before his sight. They deserved every single bit of the punishment... still, why did the mind cry out, ‘-this is brutal.’

Droplets of crimson escaped down the forehead and round Gophy’s face, a gentle motion stained it further, “-Intherna,” she exhaled, “-they’re weak...”

“I know,” yawned she sat with elbows to her cross-legs, “-too weak. Whatever happened to this being the Empire’s forces. Going by the numbers, I’ve killed around five hundred, well, half of it is ash.”

“Same here,” returned Gophy, “-how are Miira and Lilith doing?” Then and there, a massive tree sprung from town-square, shadows loomed, the foliage sprawled to cover the whole area. Countless bodies suspended by their feet hung listlessly, some alive, some dead. Their lifeforce swallowed into a single flower amid the carnage, a blossoming pink-petal floret.

The passing atmosphere felt colder, heavy steps landed atop the wooden porch of the guild building, “-Lady Gophy and Lady Intherna,” a picture-perfect description of power dazzled the leering eyes, “-so many lay dead in thy wake...”

“éclair,” said Intherna impatiently, “-how goes the fight with Miira and Lilith?”

“The latter speaks for itself,” he referenced to the enormous tree, “-lady Lilith used her World-Tree spell.”

“Ancient demonic arts,” refuted Gophy, “-she used it here... is she crazy, do the word hold back not mean anything?”

“She said tis the weakest spell she can conjure,” returned the butler.

“A piece of work,” added Intherna, “-what about Miira, did she fight?”

“No,” he replied casually. Behind him knelt the frightened. Lady Haru’s ears and tails spiked in fear, a similar reaction spread amongst the Ardanians, “-Lady Miira decided to spar with Draconis. The boy wanted to fight... well, he did fight,” the eyes narrowed, the index nervously scratched his cheeks, “-and sort of destroyed a building in the process.” No other words be said, a portal summoned, the remainder were evacuated to Ota.

‘Such a lovely flower,’ knelt over the bud, ‘-grow and mature into the fruit of life.’ Two thousand men were slain effortlessly, the events of said day would forever be etched in history.

‘My turn to act,’ a man carrying a child hovered towards the invading army. ‘-My element’s rested and accustomed to the first level of Nevermore. Whoever sprung that tree better not have destroyed the town.’

“Pops... are we there yet, I’m feeling tired, can I sleep?”

“Vanesa,” they approached, “-the fight ahead will be tough. I sense the presence of gods.”

“Why worry,” she yawned once again, “-I’m here pops, gods or whatever can’t defeat me.”

“If you say so,” a flap landed them under a lonesome tree.

‘They look imposing from up close,’ scanning the combatants, ‘-the moment I get overwhelmed it’s over. The forest’s good cover.’

“Sire,” called one of the scouts, “-we have a strange figure blocking the road.”

He turned toward Eira, “-Is that him?”

“In the flesh,” said she dropping out the truck, “-meet my cousin,” few meters apart, “-Igna Haggard.”

“The Baron,” he glared and followed, a bubbling blue and white aura clawed from his back, “-looks weak from here.”

Out the mild cover of a stray tree, “-Good afternoon Eira,” he waved amicably, “-you look well since last time’s fight.”

“Dear cousin,” she snarled, “-have you come to face an army of this size alone?”

“Perhaps,” he shrugged. Vanesa snuck her head over his shoulder.

“Pops, is that her?” her eyes barely opened, “-the princess?”

“Correct,” he patted her head, “-what of the army, are they weak?”

“Y-yeah,” she fell asleep, “-n-no p-problem,” yet another yawn.

“Excuse me,” interjected the hero, “-my name’s Kion Hurworth, the one who single-handedly defeated the Blood-King’s army. The situation should be clear, we’ve already claimed Glenda.”

“Honestly Cousin,” giggled Eira, “-will fighting here even bring us entertainment?” grimoires levitated, each gesture of the fingers and arms affected their movement, *snap,* the book opened, “-what about the people, the friends of the academy?”

“My, my,” he smirked, “-someone’s gotten a little cocky,” he closed the distance, “-Librarian of Nexsolium, I’m sorry to say,” the eyes bleached into the crystal-like white shimmer, “-such puny incomplete information shan’t rival my knowledge.” *Eyes of Truth: Revelation.*

“Altering the pupils isn’t going to do much,” she laughed.

“Are you sure?” the crystal hue vanished, *Box of Alche,” the throats choked, a tremendous pressure buckled the vehicles, *-knowledge known to only the watcher, I, master and inheritor of Origin, beckon thee; Mantia, Library of the all-knowing,* he drew a simple horizontal line, *Spatial-Arts: Dimension Split* threads of reality tore before their stead, a vortex engulfed the surrounding light and image to only hurl it back out. A tinge of white circled a radius of five kilometers. Clouds were replaced by pages, vibrant colors blanched, time and their existence felt wrong. *Realm Expansion: Mantia.”

“What have you done?” fired Eira. Kion’s demeanor remained unbothered.

“I’ve summoned part of Mantia.”

“...” her eyes widened; the fist clenched.

“What’s the matter with you?” elbowed Kion, “-tis only a barrier, is it not?”

Her knees buckled, she fell on all fours, “-no wonder thou art an imbecile,” she grudgingly turned to Igna’s stoic expression, “-the Library of Mantia is a realm of myth even in the godly realm. The Library of Nexsolium is incomplete, my mentor, Qhildir, is said to have once stumble onto a dimension where all is known, the ultimate state of awakening. Tis what gave inspiration for the construction of Nexsolium...”

“Correct,” he blinked into their personal space and patted her shoulders, “-what Qhildir saw was a reflection, Mantia is the manifestation of it who holds reality, Origin’s knowledge. I don’t remember if I said it before, I inherited what most would kill to attain. The pinnacle of understanding,” a single glance decayed the grimoires, her pages and books were rendered useless.

“Don’t be so patronizing,” she snarled to knock off his arm, ‘-where did he?’

“Mantia is my domain, my realm, I control everything,” the voice resounded, “-what will it be, Librarian, does thee wish to fight?” the figure vanished.

“Shut it,” she gritted, “-summoning one’s own realm has a fundamental flaw; mana usage and concentration. Stray even and the realm may kill the summoner,” she giggled, “-what about Glenda, the adventuring friends. The people thee vowed to protect, we came as a decoy, two-thousand of our best men have already captured the town. They’ll start killing soon, what say you, Baron Igna, Mantia won’t be much help.” She spoke the truth, under normal circumstances, the plan would have worked.

A jolt of lightning shook the goddesses, ‘-the signal,’ thought Miira with hands-on her nape. “-Come on Lilith, we ought to get going.”

“Yes, let’s,” the flower snapped, shadows gave way to sunlight, her spell served its purpose.

“You’re coming with us, hero’s companion.”

Outside the guild, the same sensation went about their bodies, “-We ought to bring that pest too,” said Gophy.

“Should be for the best,” nodded Intherna.

*Tsk, tsk, tsk,* “-poor little Eira and her vague schemes. Didn’t I say this before,” he reappeared on the path, “-no matter the scheme, if one can adapt, tis all for naught.” Both hands circled, countless symbols wrote in reddened ink, *Spatial-Arts: Rift.*

Suffocation, blurred vision, ‘-such an overwhelming aura,’ she coughed, ‘-gates?’ lightning struck, straight-faced silhouettes strolled onto the battlefield. Inesa, Ulia, and Alta flung onto the dirt, Kion’s expression broke for the first time, Inesa’s battered face and broken limbs fired deep, their pain resounded a burst of energy, “-BARON!”