Chapter 42 Spoiler: Read "What?!" A young boy shouted as he looked around, he recognized his current location as his childhood home. There were two reasons for his shock. One, he distinctly remembered being 24 years old just a few moments prior. Two, his childhood home had been burned down. It wouldn't be difficult to understand why he was shocked when faced with those reasons. "Are you scared, Kyle?" An older boy shoved him playfully. "What?" The young boy, known as Kyle, responded. He quickly pinched himself, but it didn't seem to be a dream. "Ay, you deaf too?" The older boy laughed. "Brother?" Kyle furrowed his brows. "And you've got memory loss on top of that. Good luck finding a wife." His brother shook his head, showing pity, before sitting at the dinner table. "Wait, you're dea..." "Ma! Where's the food?" His brother interrupted him. A middle aged woman entered the dining and began putting dishware on the table. "You have to wait for your father. Also, stop talking like that, you remind me of those kids in the slums. If your Father catches you hanging out in the slums he's going to be very upset." The woman lightly scolded the older son who pouted in response. Kyle's family could be categorized as middle class, his Father was a man who was an ex-mercenary who created ties to merchants through his jobs. After he retired he used those contacts to establish a small merchant caravan in the North. The nearly year round cold weather made buisness difficult to be established, but profitable if they could be maintained. There was very little competition in the north, so if someone could gain footing they could easily earn large amounts of money. "Ah, Something smells good." A large man came into the dining room and took his seat at the head of the table. "Just in time." The woman smiled, she then brought out various foods, but the main dish was hidden under a platter. The appetizers were eaten by everyone except Kyle, who still seemed to be dazed. He felt something was wrong, a few days ago he was in a group called the Emissaries of Death, he was an important figure. Mostly dealing with recruitment, so why was he in his childhood home? He couldn't help but wonder if it was all a dream? "Kyle, you've barely touched your food. Are you feeling sick?" His Mother asked with a concerned look. "No...It's just...I had this dream that all of you di-" "I know what it is! The boy wants meat, why don't you serve up the main dish now?" His Father interrupted, clearly he was projecting his own needs onto Kyle. As a Mercenary he was used to a high protein diet, but his wife began to bother him about eating healthy. So dinner would always start with Vegetables first, much to his dismay. "Fine." Kyle's mother opened the platter. Steam rose and a hunger inducing smell filled the room. "Finally!" Kyle's brother visibly drooled at the sight. "Eat up." Kyle's mother showed a satisfied look. Everyone looked famished...Everyone except for Kyle. He nearly jumped out of his chair in fear. "Wh-What the fuck!" He cursed as he began shaking. His family looked at him with confused expressions. "Kyle?" His brother called his name. "Get the fuck away from me!" He stood up and backed away. The source of his fear lied directly on the platter. The main dish was a human head, but what made it even scarier was the fact that it was his head. It looked exactly like his twenty-year-old self. "Not feeling well, Kyle?" His brother asked mockingly. "What the fuck is this!" Kyle cursed. "More for us!" His Father shrugged and stabbed his fork into the human head, tearing off a piece of the cheek. His brother and mother began doing the same, they ripped the head apart in front of him. "Stop!" He cried out. His family grew increasingly gluttonous and began using their hands to tear at the face, portions of the skull even became visible. They loudly smacked their lips as they savored every single bite. "Stop it!" He shouted again, but they paid no head. "STOP IT YOU MONSTERS!!!" He yelled with all his might. His family paused with pieces of his flesh in hand and looked at him if he were mad. The skull missing chunks of flesh moved slightly. The eyelids blinked as it turned toward him. "But Kyle..." An eerie and high pitched voice, one that caused goosebumps just by hearing it, echoed throughout the room. "...Aren't you the real monster?" The Skull asked. "...What?" Kyle asked dumbfoundedly. His mother picked up a silver plate and lifted it up, and through it, Kyle saw his reflection. His childish face looked strange, he never remembered looking like the reflection he saw. His skin almost seemed...Elastic. "You're the monster here, Kyle." As soon the Skull finished speaking, Kyle's face began to melt like wax. "Ah!" He tried to press his face back in desperation, but he couldn't stop his flesh from sinking. "Aaaaaaaaaaagh!" Kyle screamed in terror as he watched his skin drip off like burning rubber. As his eyelids fell over his eyes everything faded to black. ....................... "Aaaaaaaaaagh!" Kyle woke up screaming. He was covered in sweat with an expression of pure dread. He quickly realized he was tied to a chair, and the recent events began to pour back into his head. He breathed heavily as he tried to calm himself. He was in a dark shed, the cold wind from outside seemed to leak in from somewhere cooling his sweat soaked body. He began to think back to the moment it went wrong, and that moment was exactly three weeks ago when a— Bang! Out of nowhere, A silhouette rushed out the shadows and kicked him in the chest. His body and the chair fell over, causing him to face the ceiling. "Ugh..." He groaned. "You're up!" The cheerful voice of a little girl resounded in his ears. That's right, three weeks ago a little girl entered one the Northern towns asking about the Emissaries Of Death. Of course, The Emissaries had eyes and ears in the North, they were on the constant look out for the Paladins from the Temple of the Gods or a Mercenary Subjugation. They overlooked the little girl at first, but it didn't take more than a few days for her to disrupt their operations. The Emissaries Of Death was a "religious" group that started small. It soon grew in number, and when the Red Moon and Golden Aurora appeared, they grew in strength. The North was a harsh place during winter, it wasn't strange to hear about an old person freezing to death in their sleep. It was a place ripe with death, the Emissaries conducted rituals that allowed them to utilize the force of death. Their numbers totaled close to 10,000 members, with 3,000 to 4,000 active members. Active in the sense that they helped recruit, kidnap, and attack whoever they deemed important. The appeal of joining came from the fear of death, if you showed people you had influence over it, they'd come running and that's what happened in the North. "Did you enjoy your dream?" The girl asked. She wore a black colored, fur lined cloak, black pants, and black boots. As she had the hood down, her pale blue braid swung as she moved her head. Strangely enough, the roots of her hair were black. The only one that fit that description was- "Harper," Kyle said with clenched teeth. Harper's name was quickly discovered by a Mercenary insider in the capital. To make things worse, she was on the top 100 list and was said to be related to the number one mercenary. Luckily, he didn't appear to be with her or else they might've had to flee. Unluckily, Harper was elusive and dangerous. She picked the Emissaries off one at a time. Kyle was obviously captured by her, this was his third day of being tortured by her. For the past three days, he had been forced to live in vivid nightmares. The pain and fear were far too real to be an illusion, they were mildly tame in the beginning, but as time went on they seemed to get stronger. Kyle tried to use his willpower to defend himself from illusions, but with the latest one, it was clear he was slowly failing. Harper raised her foot a kicked Kyle's face. His lip was split open by her fierce kick, allowing blood to drip onto his chin. "I'll have to send you back again unless you tell me what I want to hear." Harper shook her head. "Wait, wait, wait, wait...I think I know." Kyle grew frightened, sometimes they found people who were captured by Harper alive, but at that time they were twitchy messes. Each survivor was fearful and twitchy, they couldn't even communicate properly, and they never slept. Kyle now had firsthand experience of what happened to them, so he wanted to get away as soon as possible. "There is a boy, he can't be much older than you...I think the High Priest picked him up somewhere. They say he has a high affinity with death magic and necromancy. I've never seen him before..." Kyle spat out all he knew. "I already heard that before." Harper frowned as she reached toward his head. "Wait! Gods damn it! Just wait!" Kyle began pouring with sweat, he felt like the next time she put him in a nightmare it would be far worse than before. Harper stopped her hand right in front of his face and looked at him with expectation. "His name! They say his name is Mortem. There's a rumor...I think they're prepping him to step into the realm of death." Kyle nervously stuttered out the information. Harper retracted her hand and stood up, she then picked up the chair and sat Kyle upright. "Hmm..." Harper clutched her chin as she contemplated, it could be considered an adorable action if the person doing it wasn't a nightmare inducing girl who showed no sense of sympathy. "What should I do now?" Harper asked rhetorically. Usually, Ira would tell her what to do next. Keep interrogating people or head further North? "What?" Kyle asked. "I wasn't talking to you," Harper said. The room was filled with an awkward silence that continued for a few minutes. "Ah!" Harper hit her palm with her fist with a look of realization. "I'll ask the Will." She said to herself. She smiled triumphantly showing a clear sense of pride for some reason. "So...Are you going to let me go?" Kyle asked hesitantly. "Huh?" Harper looked at him as if she forgot he was in the room. "Why should I?" Harper giggled. "I...I'm innocent... I just wanted protection and they offered it please..." Kyle forced a smile that could induce pity. He had a youthful face that helped add to his case. "Innocent? But you killed your family and took over your dad's business. didn't you?" Harper asked innocently. "How?!" Kyle's eyes bulged in shock. It was true, as Kyle had gotten older he had traveled around and wasted his father's money, indulging in carnal vices. Feeling disappointed in his son, his father cut him off from the money and told him he left his older brother in charge of his business. In a drunken rage, Kyle set fire to his childhood home, killing everyone inside. When he sobered up he was riddled with guilt, but he still proceeded to forge his father's will. From then on he had managed the business. Then the Emissaries Of Death approached him with an offer, they would lower his competition and protect his caravans in exchange for funding. He accepted seeing that he would end up on the losing end if he declined. "It's not like that...I was...I swear I..." Kyle tried to explain, but he couldn't even find a good excuse. Harper just giggled at him and snapped her fingers. His surrounding shifted instantly, three bodies with burnt flesh surrounded him. Kyle could just barely recognize the features that were clearly the ones his family had. "No! No! No!" Kyle screamed as tears and snot decorated his face. "See ya later." Harper waved as she disappeared. "Nooooooo!" Kyle wailed as the burnt bodies moved closer to him. His breathing was heavy as his heart raced, he could even smell the stench of burnt flesh. It was nothing like an illusion at all. He continued to scream, but no one would hear him, he was in his own version of Hell. ............................. Three weeks ago. A little girl, dressed in a fur-lined black cloak, sat on the shoulder of a translucent blue phantom. The girl was obviously Harper, and the reason she sat on the shoulders of the phantom was the snow that piled up waist high. Harper had arrived in the North after a week. To get further she would have to pay a lump sum. Since the Northen towns were on the windward side of a mountain there was a nearly year round snowfall, a chance at respite came every summer. Unfortunately for Harper, it was the beginning of winter. The cold didn't really bother her, but the snow did. Some areas had snow which piled up higher than Harper, thus she was forced to conjure a phantom. "Faster." She punched the Phantom on its head. Although it couldn't feel pain, it understood her orders and began to move faster. A few hours later they landed outside of a small town. Stepping onto a cleared road, Harper recalled her phantom and took her hood off. When she sought out Samantha for this job, she was provided with several helpful tips to use when interacting with others. Specifically the Northerners, they would be suspicious of new travelers and reluctant to talk about cult activity. Harper pulled out a small notepad from the large pouch on her waist. She read the first piece of advice aloud. "I need to be friendly." Harper nodded her head with assurance. Harper walked toward the town gate and gazed at the words above it which read: Sun's Rest. It appears who ever founded the town had a sense of humor. Grey clouds permeated the area all year, the sun appeared to rest elsewhere. It was hard to understand why people lived here, the land was cheap, but the climate was harsh. There were opportunities to make money, such as harvesting a rare fruit called the Ice Berry, which only grew in cold climates. It was considered a delicacy in every place but the North. Harper walked up to the Guard in front of the gate and showed her Mercenary card. "You can enter. Try not to cause any trouble, we have enough as is." The Guard showed suspicion at Harper's sudden appearance but had no authority to stop or question her. "Um, Where is the Mayor?" Harper asked. "Why?" The Guard stubbornly replied. He didn't know if Harper was one of the cultists or not, so he wouldn't give out information so easily. "He sent the job request," Harper explained, not picking up on the Guard's rudeness. "Oh...In that case, head to the center of town. The Mayor's Estate is there." The Guard felt a little awkward when he realized he was wrong. "Ok." Harper nodded her head and began strolling into town. ........................ "Mayor Gillian, I think you should reconsider. More than a quarter of the people in this town are already members. It's only a matter of time before we get to the rest." A man wearing a black cloak, which covered half his face, spoke solemnly. He currently stood in the Mayor's office. It was decorated with the bare necessities showing the Mayor wasn't a man who lived lavishly. "You're insane to think I would ever promote you bunch of cultists in my town." The man referred to as Mayor Gillian responded angrily. "They'll come eventually. You can't even protect the trading caravans that they rely on to live. When they realize that they will have no choice but to join." The hooded man sneered. "You! You've been attacking those caravans. You're nothing but bandits hiding behind a false religion." The Mayor grew red faced as veins bulged from his neck. "That's where you're wrong, Mayor. Death is a very real thing and if you don't rethink our offer you'll find out just how real it is firsthand." The hooded man threatened before he turned to leave. He opened the door to the office and was met by a little girl standing at the entrance of it. Her pale blue hair and eyes caused him to be startled. What was even stranger was the three black dots on her forehead. "It's not polite to ease drop kid." The hooded man reprimanded her. Harper looked at the man and stuck her tongue out, "Stupid." "Brat." The hooded man clicked his tongue as he left. As Harper entered the office she saw a bearded old man with a look of frustration on his face. "Kid, you shouldn't be here." Mayor Gillian said as he attempted to wave her away. "I'm here for the job!" Harper retrieved her Mercenary Union card and placed it on the Mayor's desk. Mayor Gillian was surprised to see a girl no more than ten years of age was a B+ rated Mercenary. "Ah...In that case, please take a seat." As expected it was weird to show professional treatment to a kid. Harper didn't seem to mind and sat in a chair in front of the Mayor's desk. Her feet couldn't even touch the floor, but she still seemed oblivious to the image she portrayed. "Uh...Right...I'm sure you've heard the details about it, so I'll get right to it. They call themselves the Emissaries of Death and they been harassing the people here. They attack the Caravans of those who don't join them, but that's only here. I've heard a rumor that further North they partake in far more malicious activities. Once they have a significant portion of my town converted, they'll convince important figures to turn a blind eye. From then on they would..." Mayor Gillian trailed off as he watched Harper start eating a cookie. "Sowwy." She said with her mouthful, "You can finish speaking." She continued. The Mayor cleared his throat and continued"Ehrmm...From then on they would kidnap, kill, and extort whoever they needed to. I don't know their purpose, but they've only been getting stronger." "I see." Harper showed a profound look of reflection, but truthfully she was pretending to be brooding like Avery. "Even now they harass us. That man you just saw was with them." Mayor Gillian showed approval at Harper's seriousness, not knowing it was an act. "Just now?!" Harper stood up abruptly. "Y-Yeah." Mayor Gillian responded. Harper pulled a notepad out of her waist pouch and began speaking as if she was reading a script, "Do I have the author...authority to capture and/or kill those in...involved with the cult?" She finished reading and smiled proudly even though she had difficulty pronouncing some of the words. Samantha told her to ask that question when she dealt with the Mayor. "I...There are some people who only join because they are forced to. I don't want you to hurt those people. For those deeply involved with the cult you may do as you see fit as long as there is sufficient evidence." Mayor Gillian said solemnly. He couldn't help but feel like a General sending his soldiers to kill. That subconscious feeling was eradicated when he realized his "soldier" was a 9 or 10-year-old girl. "Ok!" Harper cheered, she then grabbed her Mercenary Card from the desk and began to rush out the room. "Wait! Where are you going?" Mayor Gillian asked. "I'm gonna get the man who was just here," Harper said impatiently. "I'll tell my guards to keep a look out if things need to be cleaned up." Mayor Gillian shook his head. He wanted to warn Harper of the dangers, but if she was more than qualified for the job. If she was one of his own kids he wouldn't dare to let her go. Thinking of the life she may have had that forced her to work as a Mercenary, he showed a look of pity. Harper rushed out of the room without noticing the empathetic look on Mayor Gillian's face. Harper's senses weren't as great as Ira's but she could still pick up on the scent the hooded man left. ........... Harper followed the scent through twisting pathways, back alleys, and abandoned walkways. Eventually, she ended up in the slums. "A lot of bad things happen in places like these," Harper said to herself as she watched people walk back and forth with tattered winter clothes. The slums were always a hotspot for criminal activity and it was far easier to recruit someone in the slums. People who lived in poverty would definitely follow the Cultists if they were promised food and safety. A second look at the denizens of slums and one could tell they didn't lack food. They all seemed to have a healthy weight, which made one suspect where they received food from. Harper's pale blue hair and eyes drew the attention of some of the passer-bys, instantly eliminating any attempts at subterfuge. Luckily, Harper wasn't trying to be stealthy. A few people whispered to each other and then ran off. Most Guards were familiar with what that behavior meant, usually, the first people to run off were look-outs. But how would Harper know? She followed the scent and it led her to a bar. A skull was sloppily carved above the entrance of the bar. Harper wasted no time and entered. As she opened the door a loud creaking caused the bar patrons to all turn their heads in sync. Pale blue hair and eyes, with three black dots in the middle of her forehead. Dressed in a fur-lined black cloak with black boots to match. Those who looked at her couldn't help but think she was an odd little girl. Harper ignored the gazes as she walked up to the bar and climbed onto a stool, "Juice." she said as she placed 5 Gre on the counter. Low chuckles filled the bar, and even the bartender showed an amused expression as he took the Gre. He then grabbed a bottle and poured juice into a glass before sliding it down the counter. Harper caught the glass and chugged all the juice down. "Aaaah!" She exhaled and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Everyone chuckled at the little girl, except one person. The hooded man who threatened Mayor Gillian. From underneath his hood, he narrowed his eyes. There was no way he wouldn't recognize Harper. He sat in a dark corner sending a scrupulous gaze toward Harper. Suddenly, a man in a tattered jacket slipped through the shadows from a back entrance and whispered to the hooded man. "I see." His eyes flashed with a violent light as he continued looking at Harper. "Hey, brat!" He called out. Harper spun around on the barstool and looked directly at the hooded man, "What?" "What are you doing here?" The hooded man asked. A few people smiled in expectation of a childish answer. Harper opened her waist pouch and pulled out a notepad before reading it aloud, "I'm looking for the Emissaries Of Death." Harper nodded proudly before placing the notepad back into her waist pouch. The atmosphere instantly grew strange. Those who were smiling and laughing before all wiped the smiles from their face. "For what purpose?" The hooded man asked. "To capture or kill them," Harper said with a tone indicating it was the obvious response. In a different situation, perhaps those in the bar would be laughing, but they all showed grim expressions instead. "Well, you don't have to look any further, Mercenary." The hooded man emphasized that Harper was a mercenary before he stood up. Harper finally noticed that everyone in the bar was wearing black, even the bartender. It looked as if they had plans to attend a funeral. One by one they all began to stand up. Even the bartender was reaching for a crossbow he kept under the counter. "To think you were dumb enough to try and handle us alone?"Someone jeered. "Alone?" Harper furrowed her brows showing her confusion, "I'm not alone though." Harper said as she clapped her hands. A translucent blue blob appeared on the ground. Before anyone could speak words of mockery, it instantly grew bigger. By the end of its growth spurt, it was a 7-foot tall blue phantom with six arms, each holding a weapon. Two kukris, A halberd, a greatsword, and a great axe. Intimidated? Most of the occupants in the bar were just tough looking, other than street fights and hunting there was no formal training to speak of. So the answer was yes. Was it surprising for someone to be intimidated by a 7-foot tall phantom with six arms? Harper reached under her cloak and retrieved a steel baton. A blue chain soundlessly appeared on the end of the baton and at the chain was a blue hook-like dagger. Harper looked around at everyone before asking with a noticeable eagerness, "Capture or kill?" The bartender carefully raised the crossbow and prepared to take aim. Whoosh! Harper spun around, swinging the chain around his neck. She then pulled him forward. "Huk!" The Bartender's head slammed onto the counter from the force Harper exerted. She then continued wrapping the chain around her arm before pulling again. Veins appeared on the bartender's neck and head as his eyes bulged. He tried to use the counter as leverage and push himself back up, but Harper didn't budge. Those who were more prone to fear felt just that. As they watched Harper choke the bartender with a calm face, they couldn't help but feel fear towards her. "Let him go!" "You fucking brat!" A few people cursed at her, but the 7-foot tall phantom prevented them from rushing out. "Ek...Ek..." The bartender made a few more noises before his body went limp. Harper loosened the chain and pulled it back towards her as his body fell. Thump! She looked at the person closest to her and spoke, "Capture or kill?" A thin man who looked like he would do very poorly in battle was the unfortunate one to be called on. "I-I-I..." The man stuttered. Harper swung her conjured chain around his neck and pulled before anyone could react. The hook-like dagger ripped open his throat. Blood gushed out like a fountain as he fell to the ground weakly. The hooded man knew that if they continued to wait for Harper would attack them one at a time seizing the advantage, "Don't just stand there. If any of you kill her you'll get a recommendation to receive the High Priest's blessing." The hooded man took off his black cloak. Jewelry made from human bones decorated his body, but the most off putting feature were the warped faces that protruded from his abdomen. "There is no need to be afraid of death." The man said with a crazed look in his eyes. Those who were fanatics rushed out immediately, while those who were concerned with benefits came next. Either way, 20-30 odd people filled the bar and were coming to attack Harper. At that moment Harper did not stay still either. She swung the chain and killed a three more people in less than a few seconds. The nearest person had arrived and swung two small hatchets toward Harper, while someone else prepared to thrust a dagger toward her. Click. Harper twisted the baton causing it to extend into a staff and twirled it, blocking the incoming attacks. Meanwhile, Harper's Phantom had already rushed out to engage the majority of the group. The formerly hooded man who had faces protruding from his body didn't move at all. He whispered under his breath with his eyes closed. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and waved his hand. Several of the faces on his abdomen opened up and expelled a white fog. Harper who was busy fighting instantly recognized it as the ever-present fog that was a key feature of Purgatory. The white fog seemed to move with intelligence and went into the bodies of those killed by Harper. The formerly motionless and warm corpses all spasmed wildly. Those who were formerly dead all stood up slowly. Harper spun her staff and bashed the hatchet wielding cultist in the head, causing a dent to appear in his skull. Without missing a step, she twirled the staff and thrust it into the pit of the dagger wielding cultist's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He fell to his knees and didn't have time to react as Harper jabbed the staff into his windpipe. The man fell onto his back and clutched his throat. He moved like a dying fish as he desperately tried to breathe, with another swing of her staff, Harper ended his suffering. She ran forward and used the staff to vault forward, sending a kick into someone's chest and sending them tumbling back. Harper landed on her feet and rotated the staff. She then noticed the recently dead were quickly coming back to life. They moved stiffly over to the man who had faces protruding from his body. Harper's Phantom was unbothered as it cleaved and decapitated eight different people. Those attacking the Phantom retreated to the side of the man who could control the dead. The corpse of the bartender attempted to get past Harper, but she swept the staff low and knocked onto the ground before raising her foot and stomping its head in. The man with faces protruding from his body looked at Harper with scrutiny. For some reason, she gave off a feeling reminiscent of an undead. In his current state, he could feel the force of death and purgatory emanating from her. "We need to capture her!" The man said with an admiring glint in his eyes. He tore off one of the finger bones and held it in his hand. It moved like clay as it formed itself into a small bird. Amazingly, the bird made out of bone flapped its wings and flew out of a nearby window. Harper paid it no mind and tightly held her staff. Her phantom slowly moved towards her. As they resumed their stalemate. "Will you come with me quietly, little girl?" The man tauntingly said as he pulled off a few more pieces of his skeletal jewelry. The undead he raised came closer to him, he raised his hand up and began to stab pieces of jewelry into their bodies. "Shut up," Harper responded. Harper didn't attack because her Phantom had sustained some injuries and she was still outnumbered. She could attempt to cast an illusion, but she had a feeling it wouldn't work on the man with faces on his body or the undead. Then there was the fact that there were still a lot of people alive; She would have to expend energy she couldn't afford to lose in order to use illusions on them. The man finished planting the bone jewelry on the undead and sent them toward the front. Their skin began to bubble into a foul smelling black liquid and drip to the ground as their skeletal structures increased in size. Parts of the skeleton began to fuse together unnaturally, causing the undead-turned-skeletons to look far more threatening. "So, I'll ask you this time. Capture or kill?" The man sneered. ..... *A/N: This should've been released yesterday, but I lost 2k words and had to write them over again. I purposely put the cliff, since I want to make Harper's mini arc have at least a 2nd or 3rd part. Chapter 44 or 45 will be where her arc is continued since I want to move the main plot along.
Chapter 43 Spoiler: Read More If one were to travel beyond the Northern Mountains they would land in the Tel'vian Empire. A militaristic and authoritarian nation that demanded cooperation. An impartial council would elect a High Chancellor when the previous one either stepped down or died. In turn, the High Chancellor would select members of the council if they decided to do the same, in addition, they would also select a Vice Chancellor. Of course, there were certain laws, rules, and regulatory systems in place to prevent corruption. Not to say it didn’t exist, but those found guilty suffered very much. From the humiliation that came with being exposed and banned from the political system to being put to death, the severity of the corruption determined the judgment. Not even the High Chancellor was exempt from such a process. A committee that could not be corrupted oversaw all investigation, the same committee was kept in check by the council and the High Chancellor. It was a complicated system in theory, but it kept the Tel'vian Empire whole. The citizens rarely complained seeing as even those ruling weren’t exempt from punishment. Not only that, but the entire political system had nothing to do with nobility. If a farmer managed to pass the strict requirements even they could become a member of the council. If they were especially talented they could become a Vice Chancellor or even the High Chancellor. The Punishment Committee was mostly made up of orphans and common people. They would be indoctrinated with nationalistic and stoic beliefs, thus giving them the reputation of being incorruptible. How do you bribe a person who sees very little value in the monetary gain? How do you threaten someone who is willing to die for their country? How do you persuade someone to follow your orders when they will only listen to one of their own? The Punishment Committee was revered by the populace who were also deeply patriotic. Thus the Empire functioned very well in terms of politics. So no one was surprised when the Empire’s blacksmiths, craftsmen, alchemists, and mages all heeded the call to assist with a large project. No one on the outside knew what the project actually was. While no one working on it dared to speak of it lest the Punishment Committee abducts them in the middle of the night. It should be noted that there were very little incidents where spies from different Kingdoms managed to gain something fruitful. The Punishment Committee had eyes and ears everywhere, it could be said that they had perfected counter-espionage. Thus, no one was aware of the Mana Cannon. A destructive weapon capable of long range attacks, it could be wielded with a small team of mages, a team that didn’t need any particular talent. The Tel'vian Empire rarely unveiled their projects, so to the other countries, it appeared as if their projects ended in failure and as result were swept under the rug. If anyone heard that the Mana Cannon existed, they’d surely feel slightly threatened, but not as much as the latest project which would cause more than a stir. Inside of an incomprehensibly large warehouse. People moved back and forth with energy, each one holding a look of awe whenever they gazed upon the latest creation. “Make way, here comes High Chancellor Victor Orlov.” A man in a military uniform yelled as an escort of armed guards followed behind. In the middle of the armed guards stood one man, Victor Orlov. He had a large curly mustache, short blonde hair, and a pale skin tone. Orlov's family roots were connected to the Old Kingdom, but more importantly, each generation of his family has held a significant political position since the Tel'vian Empire’s creation. Everyone in the warehouse saluted as High Chancellor Orlov passed them. A man who supervised the project as the chief engineer approached the High Chancellor and gave a salute, “High Chancellor.” “There’s no need for that.” The High Chancellor shook his head as he placed an arm on the Chief Engineer’s shoulder, “Now, tell me is it ready to be operated?” The Engineer showed admiration and nervousness but managed to respond properly, “Yes, Sir. In another hour or so it will be ready for its first flight.” High Chancellor Orlov looked at the 800 foot long, ovular shaped heap of metal that stretched from one end of the warehouse to the other. It was an invention called the “Airship” when the concept was first introduced all the ministers on the council were skeptical, even High Chancellor Orlov was apart of that crowd. Artor Tate, an eccentric alchemist and also the one who suggested it, happened to be the one who completed the “Mana Cannon” shortly after the Black Pillar incident. So of course the Empire provided him with the necessary funding and materials. The project’s development was arduous and almost was scrapped several times. When Artor reached a significant milestone he asked the Empire to send out a call for assistance, thus speeding the project up. High Chancellor Orlov sighed in amazement, “Where’s Artor? I need to inform him that the flight date has been moved closer.” “He went back to his personal lab, Sir...May I inquire as to why we’re moving it's testing run to a closer date, Sir?” The Chief engineer asked nervously. High Chancellor Orlov smiled as he leaned in, “I suppose it won’t be a secret much longer. Every ruling power will gather in a month in a half, and when that time comes we’ll make sure no one underestimates us.” The Chief Engineer grew speechless, all the ruling powers gathering in one place was a huge event. High Chancellor Orlov laughed at his expression and turned to leave, “Make sure that message gets passed to Artor, would you?” He waved at everyone in the warehouse on his way out. “Yes, Sir.” The Chief Engineer saluted. He was still stunned by the news, too many strange things had been happening recently. Ever since the Red Moon and Golden Aurora appeared, people had quickly become stronger, even Artor Tate was no exception. He used to seem like an old man on the edge of his life, but recently he’d gained a new vitality and hundreds of ideas. The Chief Engineer had even heard rumor of Artor wanting to develop a weapon to end all weapons, though it was never confirmed. The Chief Engineer sighed as he went back to work with the thought of the world changing too quickly still lingering on his mind. ….. Meanwhile, inside the Valkyrie’s Hall atop a mountain range. The Valkyries were gathered in a discussion. “That boy never ceases to amaze me.” Lauren Thynne spoke as she looked at the ritual written on the paper, she sent a glance at Avery, who sat near the end of the table, before reading the ritual again. “Mother, who will receive it?” A Valkyrie asked. A few Valkyries showed interested expressions but didn’t have any expectations of gaining for themselves or their daughters. “Avery will, of course.” Casey said with assurance, “Especially after what we’ve found out.” she added on. The other Valkyries showed grim expressions in response to her words. Lauren had long since been informed by Ira that the Golden Aurora was a signal of the barrier that restricted the various forces was removed. She felt a significant difference in the quality of her magic and bloodline after the event passed. It was then they realized that every generation of Valkyries after the 2nd generation had very little change when compared to Lauren and her daughters. It became apparent that the delayed awakening was worse than previously thought. It didn’t just signify the Valkyries taking longer to awaken, it signified the loss of growth potential. No one wanted to say it, but it was more than clear that the recent generations had very little chance of reaching the peak of their power or ascending to the Divine plane. If there was still a chance in the first place. “Usually, I would suggest a fight for it, but Avery’s husband gave it to her. That being the case, she should decide what to do with it.” Judith spoke up. Lauren nodded in agreement, causing everyone to look toward Avery. “I’ll use it.” She said, originally she was going to give it to Aldis. After finding out that her overall potential would be locked with no natural way to increase it, she obviously couldn't continue to hold such thoughts. “Then it’s settled. It should be no problem to carry out this ritual as soon as possible, right?” Lauren asked though it was clear no answer other than “yes” would be accepted. Lauren had a high evaluation, which increased over the past few weeks. When Avery first arrived, she refused to hand over the saber Ira gifted to her. Each time a new Valkyrie arrived, they would usually take part in a ceremony where they abandoned the weapons they used before their bloodline awakened. It was nothing more sentimental than anything, but it was still necessary, since Judith, who was responsible for arming the Valkyries would forge new ones for them. In the end, Avery compromised by giving up her original saber. Then, after finding out Ira’s abilities to summon the Red Moon, Avery was questioned about it by other Valkyries. To the surprise of the Valkyries, she refused to give any specific information. Lauren wasn’t upset but rather impressed with her unwillingness to yield. “Yes, Grandmother,” Avery replied as she brushed her dark purple hair behind her ear. After addressing a few more issues, such as the ruling powers gathering together. Lauren dismissed the Valkyries with the exception of, Casey and Avery. Lauren led them to a corridor which was blocked by a silver barrier. They easily walked through it and emerged on the other side. Behind the silver barrier were various hallways which led to the living quarters of the Valkyries. Continuing past them, they ended up deeper and deeper within the area. Eventually, they came upon a set of stairs and began to descend. In a few minutes, they arrived at the Valkyrie storage vault. In addition of weapons and treasures, they also stored organic materials from past hunts, even going a few of Kara Thynne’s past “conquests” ended up in the vault. Dozens of chests with small metal labels lined the walls along with shelves filled with small knives and daggers and tables holding armor pieces. Lauren seemed to know where she was going and walked toward a worn chest in the far corner. It was the same chest that the Valkyries brought to Ira during the engagement dinner. The remains within it helped him create Harper’s bloodline, needless to say, they were powerful. She ran her hand across the chest while showing a rare expression of nostalgia, “My mother left more than a few things behind before she left in search of her last battle. Of those inheritances, there should be something especially suitable for you.” She then opened the chest and reached in. The inside of the chest appeared to be filled with darkness, but that was due to the fact that it was a spatial storage chest. After a few moments, Lauren pulled out a metal box and closed the chest, before walking over to a stone table with Casey and Avery behind her. “Mother, is that what I think?” Casey asked with a surprised expression. “Yes…” Lauren showed a satisfied smile as she opened the metal box, “It’s the heart of a Phoenix.” A wave of heat filled the room and a wild energy attempted to burst out from the orange-red heart. Lauren began to use her magic to restrain it. There were only a few beings that could rival Dragons in terms of control over fire, the Phoenix was one such being. It was a rare creature whose name encompassed every aspect of rebirth. While it was physically weak is was incredibly proficient with magic. Just injuring one could be considered an achievement, and many people would be willing to pay a huge sum to obtain one of its feathers for their magical energy alone. Before the barrier was removed it would be impossible to find one, but now it wouldn’t be surprising if one were to emerge on some corner of the continent. Lauren continued channeling magic to restrain the Phoenix while she handed the paper detailing the ritual to Casey, “Avery, the table.” Knowing that the Phoenix was attempting to reincarnate, Casey wasted no time in getting ready as she went to grab a dagger from a nearby shelf. Avery removed her clothes before laying on the marble table that was becoming increasingly hot. She showed no sign of discomfort as her bare skin was met with heat. Casey stood over Avery and looked at Lauren who nodded in return. She took one last look at the symbols written on the paper and began to carve them into the center of Avery’s chest. Avery didn’t even flinch as the dagger tore through her skin. The room kept increasing in temperature as the heart grew slightly larger. No one showed nervousness as they continued with the process. “It’s done,” Casey said as she stepped back. A crude circle made from weird shapes and symbols sat in the middle of Avery’s chest. Lauren lifted the Phoenix heart and placed it within the circle. Strangely enough, the heart, that began to emit flames, didn’t burn Avery at all. Not even a few seconds passed by before the Phoenix heart began to sink into Avery’s chest cavity. It was a peculiar sight, it seemed to pass through her flesh without leaving any marks. Avery felt a warmth that immediately transitioned into an uncomfortable heat until it finally became an unbearable burning sensation that caused her to writhe in pain. She clutched her chest as she grit her teeth. Casey moved forward to use healing magic but was stopped by Lauren. “You don’t know how it will affect the process. Just watch for now.” Lauren said calmly. The worst possible outcome would be Avery being reduced to ash. If that were to happen, it would be impossible to heal her. While clenching her teeth, Avery clutched her chest, taking heavy and labored breaths, but otherwise enduring the pain. She turned to her side and coughed up blood which was caused steam to rise as it hit the ground. Her blood boiled as her skin tone took on a reddish hue causing an immense pain. After what felt like an hour or so, her skin withered and dried out, giving her a very a corpse-like appearance. If not for the sound of her breathing and occasional movement, one would think she had died. The temperature in the room began cooling down and her pain subsided. After a few more moments, Avery stabilized her breathing and began to stand. A cracking sound emerged from the brittle skin covering her. As pieces of dead skin fell to the floor like a dry husk, a layer of smooth, blemishless, skin became visible. Her veins appeared to carry molten lava as they temporarily became observable, throbbing in a way that mirrored a heart beating. A pair of wings slowly became visible as they emerged on Avery’s back. Orange veins far more vibrant than the ones on her skin were spread across her wings like vines. It was clear that Avery had become far more attractive, just looking at her face could cause to feel an immense feeling of fascination. Her features reached what could only be described as perfect proportions. The strange symbols that were previously carved into her flesh had long since disappeared. Lauren continued to observe with interest, while Casey stood to the side, having long since prepared Avery’s clothes. “Amazing,” Lauren said, as she and Casey both nodded their heads. They weren’t commenting on her looks but rather the magic that could be felt by standing near her. Avery retracted her wings and received the clothes from her mother. Her veins had returned to normal, as both her hearts had calmed down and begun to beat in synchronicity. After dressing herself she looked toward her Mother and Grandmother, who showed visible anticipation. “You're mana?” Casey inquired. “It’s increased…” Avery closed her eyes momentarily opening them again, “And it feels...purer than before.” Lauren looked at the paper which detailed the ritual, only to see the words fading. She showed no surprise since Avery had long since informed her of what would happen after she was told by Ira. With a small burst of mana, she turned the paper into dust. “In any event, we’ll have to see just how much the heart affects you,” Lauren said with satisfaction.
Chapter 44 Spoiler: Read More If someone were to imagine nothing, would it be an endless expanse of black or white? The answer is no. If one were presented with nothing they shouldn’t be able to recognize it or even be able to perceive it for that matter. So is "Nothing" more than a practical concept, that cannot exist in reality? If "Nothing" is the absence of any palpable thing, why can it be described as such? When faced with those thoughts, there were only two truths to be concluded. First, "Nothing" exists. Second, "Nothing" doesn’t exist. Those were the paradoxical truths that couldn’t be ignored. If the true concept of "Nothing" were to be introduced, reality itself would break due to its influence. If the true concept of "Nothing" were to be manipulated to a certain degree, reality could be warped causing a variety of effects. At the very least gravity and matter could be altered; At the most extreme, time would be altered. One such place that was familiar with such effect was called the Black Forest, within its radius everything became petrified. When such a place appeared, many people attempted to explore it, and none of them were ever found or heard from, making it further evident that the Black Pillar’s effects were dangerous to the whole of mankind. Another strange phenomenon was the appearance of the Void. Why was it black in appearance? If it were truly the Void there should be no color, right? Well, there is no color and there is no absence of color in the Void. Unless one stepped out of the confines of existence, it could only be perceived as black. If one were to peer at True Nothingness, they would find themselves dead. The physical effects of witnessing such a thing would destroy the mind of any being. Beyond the physical effects, one would find their entire existence erased. Those were the ramifications of interacting with an active paradox. ……… Ira looked at Carter and Rhys before standing up. Silence pervaded the vault room as they watched him grip his sword. Carter tensed up, while Rhys looked confused. The feeling Ira gave off from before had changed drastically, even Carter could feel it by now. There was an instability that seemed to lightly touch everything within a certain radius of him. Ira drew his sword a quarter of an inch out of the scabbard. Then, he clenched his fist. Whoosh! A three-foot long scar appeared a few feet in front of him, and yet his body didn’t show any signs indicating that he swung his sword. He adjusted his grip and several more slashes appeared. Carter and Rhys were speechless, well, Rhys couldn’t speak anyway. There were stories of those who obtained the pinnacle of weapon techniques could attack in a similar way. Did that mean Ira had just obtained the highest form of swordsmanship? No. What Ira was doing could only be considered cheating. There were those who trained for decades to truly understand the art of swordsmanship, to become one with their sword and other such profundities. Ira could use the Void’s influence to transfer the energy used in a sword strike without actually using the sword. He could attack anywhere within a six-foot radius, but it wasn’t invincible. Anyone with fast enough reflexes could definitely block his strikes. They were even audible, thereby lessening the overall potential. They even consumed three times as much power as a regular strike, but that was probably due to his experience using his new power. Ira narrowed his eyes as if he were thinking about something. There were several other abilities he wanted to try, but he thought he might’ve ended up destroying things inside of the Vault. After a few wide-eyed blinks, Carter began speaking, “You weren’t always this skilled in using the sword, you just...How did you reach that level?” Ira shook his head, “I didn’t.” He said with a shrug as he began looking around the vault room. “You attacked without attacking. Doesn’t that mean your swordsmanship has been perfected?” Carter continued to ask, following behind Ira as he walked over to piles of weapons and armor. “Listen…” Ira paused as he began waving his left hand over the weapons and armor. While storing them away he continued, “...I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. I can’t explain what it is, but it’s not whatever you’re describing.” Ira continued taking things, books on alchemy and history, tubes filled with bright colored liquids, old ceremonial swords, and a crate full of bombs. He was only satisfied after a quarter of the items in the Vault had been taken. Rhys, not being able to talk, wasn’t keen on watching Ira take everything, so she began to move too. She grabbed a new Rapier, some dark green leather armor, and a few other small items. She didn’t have the luxury Ira had, so she could only carry the items by hand. Carter was going to continuing pestering Ira with questions, but he realized the Vault’s inventory was slowly disappearing. “Ira, could you uh…” He awkwardly chuckled as he watched Ira continue to grab things, “Could you leave some for a few other people?” Obviously, he was referring to his Guild, he couldn’t come back empty handed after such an ordeal. Ira’s hand hovered over a wand made of bone as Carter finished speaking. “Sure thing.” He snatched up the wand and then gave a friendly smile toward Carter. In truth, Ira would end up giving up most of the Vault treasures to people he knew, since he didn’t require money and most armors were rendered useless due to the way he fought. Carter looked relieved and went to grab a few things for himself, ignoring his injuries. Ira could hear footsteps from coming from outside the Vault, by the sound of it, there were a lot of people. After a few moments, Carter’s guild mates were the first to rush in, they ran straight over to him, while the Kingdom’s Soldiers escorted the Expedition Guide in. Before they could ask any questions, the guide shouted, “An Index!” he ran over to six large cube shaped crystals with ecstatic eyes. “Six...Six of them.” The Guide was so distracted he forgot to ask about the body outside of the Vault. “What, are those special of something?” Ira asked. Previously, he had only grabbed one because it looked important. “Important? It’s priceless. Every status card relies on information obtained from these…” The Expedition Guide looked as if he was going to drool. Ira began to recall that the Guide stated expressly not to take any artifacts, but since there was no proof he wasn’t rushing to tell them anything. “Ah, I seem to have gotten ahead of myself…Who was the man outside who met with such a gruesome end.” The Guide looked at Ira. Ira’s skin was covered in dried blood and his clothes were torn, but there were no visible injuries. “King Dietrich,” Ira replied with disinterest. The Guide began mumbling about how he never heard of such a person, but Ira had already tuned him out. All of a sudden, someone from Lance’s party came rushing in, clearly out of breath. Ira immediately recognized her as Sarah. “Ira...It’s...Gerald...and...Zella...They’ve…” Sarah took huge breaths in between each word. While they were still mourning the loss of their friends, she had overheard someone saying Ira went into the palace. Without warning, she took off running towards it, just because she had a feeling Ira could do something about. “Just take me to them.” Ira shrugged, he thought they probably were heavily injured. Getting Charles to make a few more prosthetic limbs wouldn’t be a hassle and in the worse case, he could ask the Valkyries to heal any crippling injury. The Expedition Guide noticed her entrance and began to speak to the soldiers about blocking the Vault off, there was way too much stuff to lose if people came flooding in. Exiting out of the Vault room, Ira looked up, the giant hole in the ceiling was the fastest way up. He extended his hand out to Sarah, who looked confused, but ended up grabbing his hand anyway. Whoosh! He jumped into the air with the help of his gravity alteration, and each time his momentum slowed, he would use the walls to jump again. While Ira was unbothered by the travel, Sarah didn’t stop screaming. ……. A few seconds later, Ira and Sarah flew into the air and landed in the throne room, just on the edge of the huge hole in the floor. Wasting no time, Ira sniffed the air, catching the scent of Lance and the others, and then threw Sarah over his shoulder. “Wait! Ira they’re–” She couldn’t even finish speaking as Ira jumped forward. With each step, he cleared twenty feet. He easily passed by the awestruck Mercenaries attempting to enter the palace. Within a few moments, Ira had arrived. Low sobs filled the entire area as many Mercenaries hugged the bodies of either their Comrades, friends, or lovers. Ira walked over to see two bodies covered in worn clothes, the two particular didn’t really stand out, but they smelled familiar to Ira. “Ira…” Lance called out with a lethargic voice, accompanied with his bloodshot eyes. Ira didn’t respond, he just put Sarah down and walked over to the two bodies. He could already guess what happened, but there was a need to confirm it. “Ira…” Lance called out again as he forced himself to stand up. Valerie looked over at him but didn’t speak. While Sarah began to tear up. By now, Ira had already arrived at the bodies, he crouched down with a blank expression and pulled the clothes away. Sarah silently cried, while Lance and Valerie turned away. Gerald, Ira could see it was definitely Gerald, even with a portion of his skull missing. Without saying anything else he removed the second cloth to see Zella. A huge cauterized hole was present in the middle of her chest. Ira looked at them wordlessly, with an expression that showed no trace of sadness. How did he feel? The concept of grief appeared to be lost on him. Maybe if he was there to witness them die he would feel different, the feeling of inability was something he hated. When he saw Avery get caught up in the explosion at the Eastern Fortress, he felt unable to protect her, something that still bothered him. But Avery was Avery, that being the case, he didn’t know how to feel about Gerald and Zella. Truthfully, he couldn’t know how to feel, it was a strange thing. He only wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak, because lacked the ability to mask his emotions. So he could only continue coming across as blunt. Still, he considered them friends, so the least he could do was try something. “Haaah.” Ira sighed as he waved his left hand, making two glass orbs appear within his palms. He placed on directly in the hole that was present in the middle of Zella’s chest. He then looked at Gerald and took off his armor, waving his hand and causing a dagger he just grabbed from the vault to appear. “Hey! What are you doing?!” Lance shouted. Ira sent a glance over to him before plunging the dagger into Gerald’s chest. With his strength, he easily cut through bone and made a hole. “Stop that!” Lance screamed, Valerie showed an uncomfortable expression, while Sarah watched with hope present in her eyes. She wanted to tell Lance to stop, but she also felt Ira was being too strange. Ira seemed to be deaf as he continued his work, it would take far too long to explain how he was attempting to recreate the knowledge of a King that was skilled in soul manipulation; Knowledge he absorbed by eating the Soul Core of a one thousand-year-old King. By the time he finished explaining what a “Soul Core” was it would be too late. He placed a glass orb in Gerald's chest and then stored the dagger away. Then, Ira placed his hands over the orbs that were inserted into Gerald and Zella’s chests. Slowly the orbs began to fill with a black inky liquid. The three were stunned as they watched the strange process take place, and were speechless when a faint black mist began pouring out of Gerald’s head and Zella’s chest. Gerald’s head slowly was reconstructed, but the hair and eyebrows present on that side of his head were gone, and the skin tone was paler than the rest of his face. Everyone remained silent as they watched, even a few of the onlookers took notice. After a few minutes, the black mist faded away and the two still bodies began to move. “You! Ira! Y-You!” Lance stumbled over himself as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The bodies climbed up from their spots on the ground and stood straight up. Their faces remained expressionless as they didn’t even look at their “friends” who were busy crying. “I guess it was too much to ask.” Ira clicked his tongue and waved his left hand over Gerald and Zella, causing them to disappear from sight. “Ira! Why! What the fuck did you just do!” Lance lashed out and rushed up to Ira. For a brief moment he felt the guilt and sadness become lifted away, but then Ira tampered with them, brought them back, and then took them away again. In his moment of anger, Lance went to swing at Ira. Seeing his intentions, Ira’s hand shot out and caught his throat, without so much as a moment of delay he lifted him into the air, “You really shouldn’t do something like that next time, I could’ve accidentally killed you, you know.” Ira said with a chuckle. “Why...did...you...do...that..?” Lance squeezed out. “Ira,” Sarah said as she approached him nervously. She knew he could easily kill all of them if he wanted to do so, and from what she saw he appeared to be helping them. “Lance was just confused...We are all confused...Could you explain what happened?” She asked as she attempted to diffuse the situation. Of course, those within listening distance saw the strange ritual Ira performed and wanted the same to happen for the people they cared about. Ira dropped Lance onto the ground and then turned to Sarah, “What do you want me to explain?” “For starters…” Lance chimed in as he rubbed his neck, “Are they dead or alive?” “Dead,” Ira answered casually. “T-Then what did you just do?” Valerie asked. “Without getting into specifics, I fixed their bodies. But they’re as good as wooden dummies at the moment.” Ira explained. “So...There’s hope in bringing them back?” Sarah asked. Ira began thinking in response. Since the Will of Purgatory had control over Purgatory itself was it possible for her to see all the memories of those who died? If so, she would immediately see Ira in Gerald and Zella’s memory and keep hold of their souls. So he could possibly bring them back, but there would be significant damage to their souls. That’s assuming they ended up in Purgatory. If every death was guaranteed to end up in Purgatory, the Will wouldn’t exactly need a bunch of souls. “Yeah. It might take a while though.” Ira said with a nod, he figured since they didn’t die peacefully there was a high chance they were there. “Thank you.” Sarah collapsed to her knees and began crying, “Thank you so much.” Valerie wasn’t any better as her expression crumbled and she began sobbing as well. A few tears gathered in Lance’s eyes as he began speaking, “I’m sorry, Ira...I’m sorry.” he said. His forehead was still bruised from when he banged his head on the ground after being overcome with guilt, it had truly been an emotional day for him. If someone else was in Ira’s place, they may feel awkward or even join the others as they cried. But Ira had one question on his mind, “Is Avery done training yet?” ..... *A/N: There are some things I want elaborate on just in case anyone was confused. The Void is the plane of nothing. "Nothing" can alter the properties of anything it interacts with, including reality. Ira can now manipulate "Nothing" to a certain degree as seen with him using his sword. I wanted to explain as him converting potential energy into kinetic energy, but I'm not too well-versed in Physics. I want to avoid writing everything with an "it works because that's what it does" explanation. I would like to attempt putting a reasonable explanation behind some of the things in the novel, hence the intro of this chapter.
Glossary (Not a Chapter) Spoiler: Read More Planet: Milneria Races: Humans Dwarves Elves Dark Elves Diavol- Pointed ears, Pale skin, Small horns in the center of their head. 2nd race with highest population numbers. Beast People- Canine or Feline variations, physical traits that slightly resemble an animal (before the Red Moon and Golden Aurora) Higher Races: Valkyries- High combat affinity, easily distinguishable by their wings which they can summon on command. Ancient Dragons: While most Dragons possess intelligence, only Ancient Dragons can take on a humanoid appearance. The common traits while in a humanoid form are, Reptilian pupils, bright hair, and small jewel-like scales around their eyes. Naiads- Species with high affinity to water, best defined by their dark blue hair and eyes. Lares- Turquoise colored eyes along with a third crystal eye in the center of their heads. Able to use a variety of psychic powers. Sidera- Black hair and black eyes, white pupils along with white dots, representative of the constellation they can embody, speckled within the irises. Able to manipulate plasma and gain power from their particular constellation. Divine Races: Avarus Lupum(Extinct)- Able to switch between Wolf and Human forms. Highly proficient in spatial manipulation and a frightening adaptability. Origin Forces: Infinite Amounts of energy that all forms of life are affected by. One example being Mana, which runs through every life form on Milneria. Countries: The Grenitian Kingdom: home of the Grenitians or Grens for short. Mostly identifiable by their wheat colored skin tones, brown hair with varying shades from dirty blonde to some shades of red. Located in the Mid-Western region of the continent. The Tel’vane Empire: Identifiable by their pale skin tones, tall stature and blonde hair with some variations. The Tel’vane empire has the most cooperative and patriotic citizens in comparison to the other countries. The Empire’s territory Located in the North East region of the continent. The Parvian Houses: Identifiable by their dark skin tones ranging from copper to bronze colored skin tones and most often curly black hair. The Parvian houses are located in the desert regions to the east. The Great Forest: While not exactly a country, the Elves have made their home deep within it. The Forest has been defined as impossible to conquer by the Grenitians, but they continue to use it for resources or to hunt monsters. Dark Elf Empire: In contrast to the Elves, the Dark Elves live in underground cities. Their Empire is composed of other species such as Beast people, Lycanthropes, and Vampires, to name a few. Dwarven Clans: The Dwarven Clans lived in a city carved into a mountain. They are rarely seen and don’t often allow outsiders to visit. Though they have trade agreements with some of the other countries. The Lands Of The Higher Races: The continents of the Higher races are thought to be behind the storm wall, but there is no current way to reach them. Skill Levels: Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Advanced, Expert, Master, Absolute, ( There is a possible level higher than absolute) Ability Levels: Lesser, Minor, Greater, Enhanced, Abnormal, Inhuman, Supernatural, Monstrous, Divine Mana Capacity Levels: Low(With enough training able to use one minor spell a day) Medium (Able use 4-5 spells, per hour) High (Able to use 15-20 spells per hour) Very High (Able to use 25-40 spells per hour) Passive Abilities: Genetic Mutation- Able to copy the traits of another living organism. Self Adaptation- Able to instantly adapt to the environment along with being able to manage body functions at will. Enhancement- Abilities are enhanced under certain factors. Example being the Lunar Force which allows for many races to enhance their magical and physical abilities. (Able to double the power affected by the Enhancement for a limited duration) Empowerment- Similar to Enhancement but the user is able to draw more power from the source of their empowerment. (If a mage was able to empower themselves using the Force of Mana, they would have an infinite mana capacity for a limited duration.) Active Abilities: Manipulation- Able to skillfully manipulate certain forces, powers, elements, or natural phenomenon. Alteration- Able to alter certain forces, powers, elements, or natural phenomenon. Unlike Manipulation abilities, the user can only use the abilities on themselves or those they come into physical contact with. Also, alteration only allows for a very limited scope of control. Embodiment- Temporarily enter a state of higher existence by embodying a force, plane, or element. Very limited duration, with a chance for the user to die if their body is unable to withstand the process. ......... *A/N: There may not be a chapter for the next week or so because I'm revising a lot of the earlier chapters. Though it isn't necessary to re-read the revised chapters, even though they are way better than the originals in my opinion. I'm also considering a full move to RoyalRoadL for the sake of convenience. Moving the revised chapters, which are on RoyalRoad to Wordpress and Novel updates is a bit time-consuming. For now, I'll continue to post on all websites. Here's the RoyalRoad link, The Void Wolf