Sage of the Forlorn Path
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Across Eternity: Book 7 - Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2025-08-28 02:15:24 +0000 UTCTHIS STORY CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT AND ADULT THEMES AND SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE UNDER 18.
True Nature
Over the next few days, Noah and his group helped prepare the dwarves to go to war with the Profane. Noah assembled a lab like he had built in Welindar and busied himself with creating poisons that would work on the unholy spawn. Shannon joined him, happy to take on the role of his lab assistant once more. Sophia got involved as well, partially out of her love of alchemy and chemistry, and also because she couldn’t turn down a chance to work alongside Noah again. Cyrilo also joined in, adding her years of expertise.
While they worked on developing chemical agents, Seraph helped the dwarves improve their steel. Weapons imbued with elemental enchantments only properly worked when wielded by mages of that element, but that wasn’t to say they were useless in the hands of the magically challenged. Regardless of who wielded it, a holy sword would inflict greater harm to a Profane, leaving wounds that were both more severe and took longer to heal. The dwarves worshipped Terranora almost exclusively, but there were still a handful of paladins and Lumendori priests to assist him in enchanting arms and armor, imbuing them with holy energy.
At the same time, Valia, Alexis, Roc, and Foley were instructing soldiers on how to fight the Profane. The dwarves of Vandheim had centuries of experience in fighting beastmen, mages, and all manner of foes that happened to be bigger than them, but tussling with fiends and ghouls was a whole different level of difficulty. Much of the training involved telling the stories of their battles and providing details on the strengths and weaknesses of their foes. The destruction of Welindar and Colbrand were also hammered into the dwarves’ minds, so that they’d understand just how easily Duravound could fall.
When he wasn’t in the lab, Noah acted as a middleman for Elisandra, Tarnas, and Geord to facilitate their collaboration for their counterattack against the Profane. He’d bounce his consciousness back and forth between the three nations through his harkonen network, relaying the leaders’ messages to each other while offering his own wisdom. If anyone began arguing or wasting his time with useless back-and-forth banter, he’d shut it down. He refused to let the conversation be anything less than civil, informational, and useful to the war effort.
Finally, the day of the full moon arrived, and on that morning, Noah paid a visit to Elisandra. She was already waiting for him with one of the Nadoku and two soldiers.
“Is everything ready?” he asked.
“It is. Tonight, the Moon Tears will fall and the mirror will reach its zenith. Noah, meet Liasai, one of our most devoted Night Singers. I’ve charged her with carrying the orb to the Lunar Temple. As much as I wish I could do it myself, it’s simply not feasible at this time. You will be accompanied by Tonran and Xerod, two of my best warriors. We’ve done all we can to keep the Profane out of the Anorvan Forest, but I still would not dare send Liasai on such a crucial mission without protection.”
“Thank you. I greatly appreciate this,” Noah said to all four of them. Liasai and the two soldiers promptly took a knee.
“It is our greatest honor to serve you, Aegasviel. We will get you to the Lunar Temple no matter the cost!” Tonran exclaimed. Noah looked at Elisandra, who just smiled.
“Thank you. But keep in mind that you’re only carrying this orb, through which I project my consciousness. It’s simply a delivery mission.”
“Any assignment given to us by the king and queen of Sylphtoria is precious beyond all measure,” said Liasai.
“King? I thought we agreed I would just be the royal consort?” Noah asked Elisandra.
“And you think the people who bask in the light of your star would be satisfied with that?” she giggled.
“If that is your wish, then let it be so. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if the three of you could relax. Your dedication is noble, but without stoicism and temperance, it’s just zealotry. I have to return to Duravound to continue my work, but I’ll check back in at sunset. Please be at the Lunar Temple by then.”
“Yes, Lord Noah,” the three said in unison.
Noah released the spell and pulled his mind back into his body. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his room at the inn, and Cynatas was standing in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Just checking in. I find it fascinating how you’re able to reach out to other countries like that. By the way, do you know where Roc is?”
“I believe he said he was going to fly to one of the martial arts temples to deliver a message for the king about the Profane. He should be back by midday.”
“Good. Whenever I can’t find him, part of me worries that he’s done something to get himself in trouble again.”
“Well, he does have a bit of a knack for it. You really care about him, don’t you?”
“You say that like you’re surprised.”
“Not surprised, just curious. I can tell he thinks the world of you, but words of love spoken through prison bars can change when the bars are removed.”
“Have you so little faith in love?”
“No, just in people. I’m not saying I expect things between you to fail, but rather that I’m hope you succeed, despite what I’ve seen and experienced in my long life. Honestly, I don’t know Roc as well as the others, but I do know he has a decent amount of anger in him. A lot of it, he was simply born with, and he’s come to rely on it as a source of strength and purpose. Yet when I see him with you, that anger is gone, and that’s important. A true warrior is one who can embrace peace, not just in life, but in themselves.
The power one derives from anger is seductive in its ease and abundance, and there are moments when feelings like spite are useful in overcoming obstacles, but that same power can become a crutch that ultimately weakens us. Everyone, be they warrior or pacifist, needs to learn to reject the shortcut of anger, to be able to live without it, and call upon it only when it is necessary. Roc fights with fiery tenacity, but he needs to be able to live with the calm clarity of still waters, and that is something learned through love.”
Cynatas smiled and stared off into space. “You may not know him well, but he has a great deal of respect for you. He told me stories about his time in Colbrand, both the academy and the tournament. At first, he thought you were just a deceitful weasel and a scoundrel.”
“That sounds about right.”
“But your strength and wisdom earned his admiration. He also said, that according to your subordinate Shannon, you’ve been recognized by the spirits? Any beastman would gladly follow someone so esteemed. He is your friend, through and through.”
“But what you two have is certainly more than just friendship. I can tell how much he cares about you. I’m curious; how did the two of you meet?”
“The same way you and I met: you both caused trouble, which made me curious. After Roc shouted that the Profane were coming and getting the city all riled up, I had to speak to him. When I went to his cell, I found someone in this city worth talking to: a beastman warrior of the Ashok Mountains, trying to save dwarves, of all people, and fighting harder with one arm than most warriors with two. He was driven and focused, but lacked the stone-headedness of dwarves. He saw my elvish side and didn’t recoil from it, instead calling me a flower that had been forced to bloom in darkness with the mushrooms.
Lupin was a good man, undoubtedly, but he was simply the prince of another nation, chained to me in an arranged marriage. He was a man stuck on the ground, sealed within castle walls and royal constraints, something which I was certainly sympathetic to, but already had more than enough of in my own life. Marrying him would get me out of here, but I would not be truly free. That is what Roc symbolizes to me: freedom. He’s free from the earth, free from fear, free from the restraint of his injury, free from any nation. I want to live that free life with him, and when old age should take him, he will go with my love and gratitude for all the years of happiness he’ll have given me.”
Noah chuckled. “My future wife told me something similar. Queen Elisandra of Sylphtoria is pregnant with my child and wants us to get married when this mess is over. Though my soul is eternal, my body is still human, but she’s made peace with that, and is ready to cherish what little time we’ll have.”
“You and the queen of the elves? Well, well, you really are interesting. So, what does that make Valia Zodiac? Your concubine?”
“Don’t let her catch you saying that.” The two of them shared a chuckle. “I suppose we won’t know the final details until we find her brother. Until then, we’re all just taking it one day at a time.”
Noah then went on with his usual work, helping the dwarves prepare for war. However, he always minded the time, relying heavily on his internal clock as anticipation ate away at him. How long had it been since he felt this kind of excitement? Finally, evening came, and after a quick dinner, he retired to his room, instructing everyone not to disturb him until he gave the word. He assumed a meditative position on the floor with a harkonen orb in his lap and his mirror at his side, and stretched his consciousness over the horizon. When he opened his eyes, he was standing at the base of the Lunar Temple with the three elves, who all bowed as he appeared.
“Lord Noah, we have brought you to the Lunar Temple as you instructed!” Xerod announced.
“Thank you, well done, and with perfect timing, too. I’d like the two of you to wait down here. Liasai, shall we?”
“Of course, sire.”
The sun had set and the moon was starting to rise, dyed a vibrant yellow like a drop of honey. Liasai carried the orb up to the steps and to the top of the pyramid, exactly as it was the last time Noah visited. He had only been here for one night, but Noah had some excellent memories of this place. Since they weren’t here to contact the spirits, Liasai did not perform any of the ritual steps, such as using the cleansing pool or ringing the ceremonial bowl.
“So, this is where you ahem blessed the queen with an heir?” Liasai asked while blushing.
“I thoroughly blessed her.”
“And I suppose there’s no chance I could….”
“Ignoring the fact that I am in a purely ethereal state, you’d have to ask Elisandra for permission, but don’t expect her to say yes. Now, please set the orb down right here and remove the greenery covering the mirror.”
Liasai followed his instructions and exposed the mirror, as beautiful and pristine as the first time Noah saw it. Even when covered with vines and moss, it remained immaculate, as if it had already been polished. Both Noah and Liasai sat down beside the mirror, her on the other side, and the two waited. As the moon shed its yellow hue and hung like a luminous pearl, the flowers growing around the surrounding pillars began to open. From their blue petals, silvery nectar dripped like tears, befitting their name perfectly. The nectar flowed through channels in the floor and into the mirror. As the moon’s light shone upon it, it began to glow. Even while just an apparition, Noah could feel the mana in the air swirling like powerful vortex, far superior to the mirror he crafted.
Everything was ready, so Noah took a deep breath and leaned over, looking at his reflection. He could see the rune and magic circle in his eyes, and though it was clearer than before, it remained unreadable. However, Noah had been expecting this. Since he was only there in ethereal form, it made sense he wouldn’t be able to clearly see it. That was why he had his mirror with him in Duravound. He had been practicing for this, and with no small amount of effort, he gently brought some of his consciousness back to his real body, essentially splitting his mind in two. It was exceptionally difficult and inflicted a vast amount of mental strain, but while one eye saw the Lunar Temple, his other eye saw his room in Vandheim.
He only had control of one arm in this state, but he activated his invisibility magic and then picked up the mirror and stared into it, seeing his reflection through both the original and his replica. The two reflections overlapped in his mind’s eye, two different views of the rune, neither able to show him the true image, but when joined, the picture was crystal clear. There it was, the central rune of his magic.
At that moment, it was like a bullet had just pierced his forehead and drilled straight through his brain, with the image of the rune spreading through his mind like wildfire. Noah unintentionally gagged in pain and fell on his back, feeling like his mind was being ripped apart. He could not tell where he was, whether he was in his real body or at the Lunar Temple. No matter what thought he conjured, the symbol obscured it like a giant stamp, blocking everything out. He didn’t understand what this intensity was and why he was experiencing it. It was just a rune, the foundation of his magic, something every spell user had, but they didn’t suffer like this, so why was his so unique?
The sensations rushing through him began to change, no longer feeling like pain, but something else. He felt like his mana was a massive network of gears and cogs, discombobulated and out of order, but now they were all snapping into place and finally working together as they were meant to. What he experienced as pain was the sensation of his magical system being remade from the ground up, as if his body was undergoing a hundred growth spurts at once. His magic altered the perceptions of others, but could not properly work until he correctly perceived it himself.
The rune was one he had never seen before, never heard its name, but he understood its meaning with perfect clarity. He opened his eyes back at the Lunar Temple, staring at the sky overhead, and whispered the name, only to hear it spoken by Liasai.
“False.”
He sat up and looked at her, finding her shaking with her eyes rolled back into her head.
“False,” she said again. She raised her arm, trembling beyond her control, and pointed at him. “False! False!” she exclaimed. Something was wrong with her. Noah looked at the mirror and realized they were surrounded by spirits, swirling and churning. Just from the way they moved, he knew they were extremely agitated, and Noah realized that they were possessing Liasai to voice their rage. “False! False! False!” They weren’t just naming the rune; they were accusing him. Like him, they were only now discovering the true nature of his magic, and they did not like it.
“False,” Noah muttered.
It made perfect sense, as he now truly understood his magic and himself. For thousands of years, he had lived one disguise after another, manipulating everyone around him for the sake of survival, prosperity, and entertainment. He had lied to his family, friends, lovers, and the public and continued to lie to them in his world. The worst details of his past he kept hidden, such his relationship with Duska and Bella, his deception at Duravound, and countless other lies and half-truths he had used since his arrival. They were just steps in an endlessly repeating pattern stretching across the multiverse. That facet of his existence was so ingrained into him, that upon reaching this world, it became a magic power he could wield. With his left eye, he could conceal the truth, and with his right eye, he could project lies. His guises and illusory weapons were the result of his magic piggybacking on his curse and being imprinted with his memories and experiences.
“False! False!” Liasai continued to moan while pointing the finger of condemnation.
Noah could only partially guess why the spirits found this magic so repugnant, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he had his answer. He got to his feet and stepped over to Liasai, resting his phantasmal hand on her head. He sent a pulse of mana into her mind, born from the new level of power he had achieved, and she was wrenched free from the spirits’ control. She fell back, gasping for air.
“What just happened?”
“Do you remember anything?” he asked.
“I remember seeing you suddenly shout and collapse, and then… this.”
“The spirits knocked you out. They appeared and told me about my magic, and I guess they decided to remove you from the conversation. It’s the rune of….” Noah trailed off, realizing he was about to lie again to conceal his magic with a lesser title. It was his first instinct, and if the spirits of nature were any indication, the true nature of his magic would not be well-received by others. Regardless, he wanted to be honest and bear whatever consequences he suffered for it. “You can tell Elisandra it’s the Rune of False. My magic has the power to deceive my enemies with illusions and phantasms. Come on, we should go back down.”
Liasai carried the orb down the temple steps with Noah walking alongside her. His astral form felt much more vivid than it did before. He could properly feel the hardness of the steps, the kiss of the wind, and the smell of the forest. He was still immaterial, but it almost felt as if he were walking with his real body. They reached the bottom of the steps, where Xerod and Tonran were waiting.
“My Lord, happened up there?” Xerod asked. “We thought we heard someone shouting, but it was muffled. There was so much energy in the air, it was like trying to hear through a wall of wind.”
“Everything is fine, but Liasai had a ‘spiritual awakening,’ as you might say and just needs some sleep. The three of you should make camp and return to Sylphtoria tomorrow. Thank you for all your help.”
Noah then returned to his true body and opened his eyes, finding himself not on the floor of his room, but on the bed, surrounded by his concerned friends.
“Noah, are you all right?” Valia asked, placing her hand on his cheek as though checking for a fever. “We suddenly heard you shout, and when we came in, you wouldn’t wake up.”
“I’m fine. I figured it out.” He got out of bed and walked past everyone to the nearby desk, where he had set up his stationary. Everyone watched him as he started scribbling runes, acting like they weren’t there.
“My Lord, what happened?”
“I figured out my rune. Relax, I’m fine. I just have a bunch of stuff in my head that I need to write down. You can all go, I’m completely all right. Just leave me to sort this stuff out.”
They slowly shuffled out, one by one, leaving behind just Valia and Shannon sitting on the bed, waiting and watching him work. After several minutes of rapid scratching on parchment, he finally stopped and sighed. Valia got up an approached.
“So… what? What happened? What’s your rune?”
“False. Thousands of years of lying to conceal my identity and blend in has given me the Rune of False. I conceal what is and project what isn’t.” He showed her the parchment, where he had written four spell formulas. “These two spells here are the first I unlocked: invisibility and cloning. My phantom weapons, my old faces, my soundproofing ability, and my spell mimicry all originate from these two spells.”
“And what about the other two?”
Noah smiled. “They are what my spells have evolved into; the fully realized version of my magic. I can either use them at the original level as I have until now, or I can cast them as they are truly meant to be. So, would the two of you like to help me with a little experimentation?”
.
.
.
The next night, after Noah and everyone else had fallen asleep, a stranger entered the city through a ventilation shaft. He kept to the shadows, avoiding the still-crowded streets. Since the Duravound dwarves lived underground and experienced little sunlight, their concept of day and knight were different from those outside the city. This dwarf, garbed in black, navigated the city with honed stealth. He arrived at the Platinum Inn and secured himself in an empty house nearby where he could work undiscovered. Now alone, he pressed his hands together as if in prayer. Several dark shapes rose from his back and separated from him, becoming a group of fellow Profane dwarves, all identically garbed.
“Do it,” he said to one of them.
The ghoul in question pulled back his hood, revealing his gray skin and stark red eye, while the other was covered with an eyepatch. He removed the patch, revealing his eye to be unnaturally large, with the lids enclosing it looking like fanged jaws. His eye then quivered and pushed itself out of his socket, attached to the body of a large black worm. It slithered down onto the ground and set off, with the dwarf controlling its movements and seeing everything he saw. Not only could he determine shapes and colors with sharp contrast; he could also see life signs and mana signatures, like heat on an infrared camera.
He directed the worm to the inn while avoiding the detection of anyone passing by, and it slipped into the building unnoticed through a crack in the exterior. The worm continued on through the walls, hidden from view by a thin layer of paint and plaster as it traveled ever higher. Its ascension led it to a rat’s nest, forcing the mother to defend her young. She could sense the wicked power in the worm and was rightfully afraid, but had to stand firm. She hissed and moved from side to side, trying to make herself appear bigger as she gathered the courage to attack.
The worm stared at the rat as it brought up the end of its tail, from which a hollow stinger extended. It stabbed the rat like a scorpion, injecting its venom. The rat collapsed, spasming as its body melted from the inside out. What was flesh, bones, and muscle became an organic puddle, and the worm used its stinger to suck up the remains for digestion. After doing the same to the younglings, it continued. It reached the corridor on the top floor, with the ghoul in control scanning for Noah’s mana signature. It spotted him through the wall and approached the door, but paused.
He could see that the door had been boobytrapped with a magic circle applied on the back that would activate if the doorknob was turned. Though the worm couldn’t turn the knob itself, the ghoul was still given pause by this defensive measure. Still, it continued on, having the worm slither through the door. The worm flattened its body to pass through the narrow opening, but once it was on the other side, it once more paused. The floor of Noah’s room was rigged with more magical traps, scattered like pitfalls.
The ghoul led his familiar through the magical minefield and into Noah’s bedroom, where he was sound asleep between Valia and Shannon. However, the bed itself was in the center of a magical barrier, and if the worm crossed the border, it would be electrocuted. The worm slithered up the wall, leaving a faint slime trail but creating no noise. It circled another trap and reached the ceiling. There was enough give in the magic barrier for the worm to get by and hang over the bed. It lowered its tail, carefully lining up its stringer to drop poison onto Noah’s lips. A single green tear fell from its stinger, but before it could reach Noah, it was disintegrated by a holy spell with a flash and a crackle.
Awoken by the alarm, Valia’s eyes bolted open, and even in the darkness, she saw the worm attached to the ceiling. She launched herself up, nearly cracking the bedframe with her dismount, and grabbed the worm’s tail. “Got you.”
Noah reacted just a moment slower and moved on instinct, grabbing Shannon and rolling with her off the bed, as though trying to avoid yet another burst of late-night gunfire that ruined numerous mattresses in past lifetimes. “What’s going on?” he asked as he tried to shake his brain free from the last confines of sleep’s embrace. Meanwhile, Shannon was even more bewildered, acting like a cat that had been splashed with water.
“Someone is trying to kill you,” said Valia, holding the writhing worm. She was about to smack it against the wall to kill it, but Noah stopped her. “Wait!” He took a moment to rub the grogginess from his eyes and stared at the worm. “It’s being controlled. I can see the magical leash, just like between Galvin and Ziradith. It’s going—” He pointed at the nearby wall. “—that way, between forty and fifty meters away.”
“I’ll go on ahead. You catch up.” There was no time to get dressed, so Valia simply threw on Noah’s coat and then jumped out the window. “Zodiac: Avagath!” she cast as she fell. She landed in the street with elven grace and sprinted in the direction Noah gave, soon sensing the presence of the Profane. “Assassins! Eight of them!” she shouted back to Noah.
“We’re routed!” the one-eyed dwarf exclaimed.
“Plan B!” the leader ordered, causing the other ghouls to scatter out of the building, barely a second before Valia kicked open the door and rushed in. She chased after the slowest ghoul, the one who had dispatched the worm, but was surprised by his speed. With rapid acceleration and quick turning, each assassin was moving through Duravound in a zigzag pattern. Valia activated her speed enhancement and caught up to her prey, delivering a perfect slice to the back of the neck.
The Profane dwarf’s head was sent flying, but from the stump of his neck, several centipedes lunged out towards Valia with venomous pincers made of segments of his spinal column. She sliced them to pieces as they were in the air, only to be followed by more chitinous vermin. Worms made of intestines, beetles wrapped in carapaces of dwarven bone, and flying pests with wings made of thin muscle tissue were fleeing the body like rats escaping a sinking shit. The shape beneath the ghoul’s black robes was deflating as his body lost more and more of its mass.
Many of these creatures were going after Valia like the centipedes, but most were trying to escape. She couldn’t let the assassins get away, but nor could she allow this pestilence to spread and find victims to sink their fangs and stingers into. For all she knew, they could carry diseases and toxins that would contaminate the ground or water. She sliced up the leaping familiars and then went to work crushing the others before they could get away.
She then paused to look up as an enchanted arrow flew over her head, passing by numerous buildings before striking another assassin and ripping him to shreds. It was launched by Alexis, standing on the roof of the Platinum Inn. She was still in her nightgown, but this wasn’t the first time she’d had to strike foes down in such a state. Sophia was with her, casting a blessing to augment her eyesight. She loaded another arrow and spotted the next assassin. Her magic eye laid out his path before he could make it, and she released the arrow with pinpoint aim. Whether it was luck or instinct, the assassin turned at the last moment, causing the arrow to strike his shoulder and rob him of his arm. A debilitating wound, but for the Profane, it was far from fatal, and it only galvanized him to move faster.
Alexis clicked her tongue in annoyance, and again as he ducked out of her line of sight. As he moved, he pulled glass bottles out of his robe with his remaining arm and smashed them against surrounding buildings. The bottles shattered against wood and stone, spraying their liquid payload. The fluid ignited upon contact with the air, and soon, a trail of flames was winding its way through the city. Most of Duravound was constructed using bricks and concrete, but there were still plenty of flammable materials that could ignite and cause panic. Soon, the public was racing to put out the flames or escape their wrath, causing pandemonium in the streets.
The one-armed assassin, having used up all of his incendiaries and emerging from the smoke, was pulverized by a divebomb by Roc. His eyes were like that of an eagle, helping him track the assassin through the smokescreen and close in on him. However, his eyes were also watering, as said smoke was also filling up the upper portions of the cavern, and making flying difficult. He took to the air once more, trying to stay as low to the buildings as he could while he searched for the next assassin. More flames were appearing throughout Duravound in this coordinated attack. However, Roc couldn’t help but wonder if the Profane were doing this to inflict collateral damage or if they were simply creating a distraction.
In the distance, he spotted a flash of light, courtesy of Seraph, chasing down another arsonist. When he heard Valia’s voice announce their presence, his combat instincts pulled him out of bed and sent him running with barely an idea of where he was going, even forgetting his hammer. However, the building screams and ruckus helped get him up to speed, and he knew there was a foe to be chasing. The cloaked dwarves caught his eye, and the way they moved with supernatural strength and agility through the crowds painted them as Profane. The problem was that he couldn’t blast them without hitting bystanders.
He focused on one of them, using his golden aura to boost his own speed and catch up with the assassin. Turning around as he ran, the Profane dwarf aimed his hands at Seraph, revealing two launchers on his arms, loaded with heavy iron balls. They glowed with a dark aura, courtesy of a layer of Profane blood, and were shot at Seraph with deadly speed. He dodged the spheres and they zoomed past him, but moments later, he realized that was a mistake.
The spheres shot into a crowd of dwarves, critically wounding two with barely any change in direction before crashing into a brick wall. However, instead of coming to a rest, they bounced out of their craters with unhindered speed. They kept flying, hitting people and buildings, and ricocheting after every impact, no matter the medium. Whether it was wood, stone, dirt, or flesh, they seemed to lose no kinetic energy, dislodging themselves and continuing their path of destruction. With the death and damage they were inflicting, Seraph was forced to abandon his pursuit of the assassin and go after the spheres.
Even with holy power boosting his speed, he wasn’t fast enough to catch up with them in a linear chase, but his reflexes could follow their path, and there was so much for them to crash into that they weren’t covering any significant distances. However, every time he thought he was close, they’d strike something and change direction, leaving him in the dust. His only chance was to catch them when they were shooting towards him, but it was hard to resist the instinct to get out of the way, and the first time he moved to intercept, his missed his chance to grab it and it smashed into his ribs, crushing two into powder and sending him spinning.
Despite the pain, he didn’t have the luxury of giving up. He healed the wound and continued the chase. Moving as fast as his body would allow, he chased one sphere as it struck the side of a building, and when it bounced back towards him, he finally caught it. If not for his golden aura and strengthened body, every bone in his hand would have been broken, though that wasn’t to say it wasn’t exceptionally painful. Even after being caught, it refused to slow down, nearly wrenching itself from his grip with the desperation of an animal seeking freedom. It didn’t stop until Seraph charged it with holy energy, burning off the layer of Profane blood and breaking the spell.
Seraph took only a moment to catch his breath, then went after the second sphere, following the sound of incessant impacts and finding it bouncing between two buildings. He snatched it out of the air, once again nearly breaking his hand in the process. After purifying it, stepped out into the street. Not far off, he saw the assassin, just standing in the middle of the road, staring at him. Before Seraph could react, the assassin aimed his hands in opposite directions, with the launchers on his arms bearing fresh ordinance.
“No! Don’t!” Seraph shouted before the spheres were launched, resuming the chaos while the assassin turned around and resumed fleeing.
Clearly, this Profane wasn’t using them as a distraction to escape. His goal was to cause havoc, meaning that just stopping the spheres would be a waste of time. He had to kill the caster to end the bloodshed. He once more chased after the assassin, while in his hand, he gripped the first sphere he caught and charged it with as much holy power it could contain. The power would quickly dissipate, but he just needed it to remain in the iron for a few moments.
He followed the assassin, trying to get as close as he could while waiting for his moment. Finally, the assassin leaped into the air, giving Seraph the opportunity he needed. He pulled back his arm, readied his stance, and hurled the sphere as hard and fast as he could, returning it to its owner. The sphere struck the ghoul in midair, imparting its kinetic and holy energy, and causing the Profane to explode into a cloud of ash and viscera.
Seraph paused and looked around, seeing a line of black energy shooting into the air from a distance. The Profane laser carved a path across the cavern ceiling, sending boulders raining down onto the city. The sound of a child’s scream drew Seraph’s attention, spotting a young dwarf girl crying for her parents, with a boulder about to crush her. Seraph threw himself forward with all of his strength, but he wasn’t fast enough to save the child.
“Wind Deceleration!”
Before the child could be claimed by cruel fate, the boulder was stopped, along with every other falling rock. Each hung suspended in a net of glowing air. Seraph grabbed the girl and got her to safety, then looked around, spotting Cynatas perched atop a cathedral with her arms outstretched and a white aura enveloping her. To stop all of this falling rock with nothing but the power of wind was inconceivable. Seraph was suddenly reminded of Tarnas when he arrived to save Colband.
All those who were about to be crushed by falling stones scrambled out of the way, and Cynatas slowly lowered them to the ground. She then pressed her palms together and formed a orb of air between them, holding it above her head. “Final Breath,” she cast, crushing the orb like she was popping a balloon.
A torrent of wind erupted from the burst orb, washing over the city like a tsunami. All of the flames devouring the city, rather than being engorged by the rush of the air, were instead smothered. Every fire in Duravound, be it a burning building or a lit candle, was extinguished, with the air purged of all smoke, once again leaving Seraph in awe. He was supposed to be Light’s Emissary, the ultimate anti-Profane warrior, but he just wasted so much time getting roped up in some demented assassin’s game of catch. He should have been strong enough to eliminate this entire threat on his own, but once again, he realized his understanding of his power was holding him back.
He was shaken from those thoughts by another flash of the black laser, this time aiming for Cynatas. She deflected with a shield of wind and tried to escape, but the caster wouldn’t let her go, and tried to shoot her out of the air. Seeing her fleeing from danger, fury gripped Seraph, and his holy aura became a fiery maelstrom. He took off after the source of the laser, moving faster than ever in his life. He soon came upon the assassin, pointing at Cynatas with the black beam shooting from his finger. He closed in with his fist pulled back, while at the same time, Roc dropped out of the air in a divebomb, swinging his leg towards the assassin.
The Profane dwarf realized the situation too late, as both warriors were closing in on him faster than he could react. He was caught in a pincer formation, crushed between Seraph’s holy punch and Roc’s divebomb kick like a hammer and anvil. His body was eviscerated on impact without resistance, and the two attacks collided and repelled each other, forcing Roc and Seraph apart. The they stood separated, glaring at each other and gasping for air.
Roc felt it when his attack collided with Seraph’s; the rage mixed into the holy energy. There was only one reason why he would get so angry at someone attacking Cynatas, for it was the same rage Roc felt. It sickened him, that Seraph, of all people, would be looking at Cynatas the way Roc did. Where did he get the audacity to be protective of her? By what right did he have to feel what Roc felt? But that was not all that upset him.
When their attacks collided, the difference in strength was clear. Seraph was far stronger. When it came down to hand-to-hand techniques, Roc, as a beastman, was superior to a paladin, but just like at the academy, Roc was realizing he could not compete against the magical might of Light’s Emissary. The last time they fought, Roc crushed Seraph with ease and told him that when they clashed next, it would be after Seraph regained his powers and Roc became stronger with one arm than with two. Seraph had fulfilled his end, but once again, Roc was trailing behind.
Caught between his jealous fear that Seraph would go after Cynatas, and his envy of the power that he lacked, Roc could say nothing. No curse or warning would ring true when the difference in strength was clear. All he could do was glare. Having caught his breath, Roc turned around and flapped his wings, taking flight without a word and leaving Seraph.
While all this was going on, Noah walked the city streets, searching for the assassins. He was alone, having sent Shannon to find Valia and assist her, as well as deliver her clothes. Everyone was doing their part to help eliminate this threat. Even Daniel, Cyrilo, and Foley, slow to react, were now trying to help. However, instead of heading towards the heart of the noise and chaos, Noah’s goal was the quietest district around, seeking a place where he could be totally alone, despite knowing that he wasn’t. Finally, near the prison district, he came to a stop.
“You can come out now.” He turned around as the leader of the assassins stepped out of the darkness, garbed head to toe in black and armed with two daggers. He almost reminded Noah of the Harajin, but much shorter. “Looking for me?”
“My superiors have deemed you worthy of execution. You are an obstacle that must be removed.”
“Your plan was clever. If you couldn’t kill me in my sleep, you’d back off and incite death and destruction in the city. My friends and I would be forced to get involved, leaving us scattered and separating me from them. That said, I’m sure you must realize you have no chance of winning.”
“I like my odds. We know all about you from your fights. As Lord Tysinger said, you have nothing but parlor tricks. Your magic can trick and disorient, but it can’t cause harm. Behind your deceptions, you’re nothing more than a man with a sword, and that sword won’t do much for you against me.”
“Deceptions? How very apt. By all means, take your best shot. If anything, I should thank you for this.”
“Why is that?”
Noah closed his eyes. “You’re exactly what I want: an enemy I can test my new magic against. I was experimenting earlier with my companions, but I can only be gentle with them. I need a proper field test, with a test subject I can use and abuse.”
He opened his eyes once more, now with the Rune of False clearly visible on his irises, having been invisible until now. From a distance, the two small symbols should have been impossible to discern, even for a Profane, but the moment the assassin looked into Noah’s eyes, he staggered, feeling like he had been slapped. The rune flashed in front of his mind’s eye, obscuring his vision and filling his thoughts, but only for a brief moment. The image faded and the assassin shook his head to dispel the strange feeling.
“It’s over,” said Noah.
“What?”
“The moment you looked into my eyes, you lost.”
The assassin growled. “We’ll see!”
He then disappeared, sinking into the ground as if he had been standing on a frozen lake the ice broke beneath his feet. A moment later, he re-emerged, rising out of Noah’s shadow and attacking from behind with one of his daggers. The blade pierced his chest, but to the assassin, it felt like had cut nothing but air. He tried again, but it was the same feeling, with Noah showing no reaction whatsoever. He finally turned around with a smirk and punched the assassin, knocking him back.
“What is this? What’s going on?” the assassin asked.
“Like I said, you lost the moment you looked into my eyes.”
Noah approached the assassin, not even bothering to draw his sword. The assassin jumped back and disappeared into another shadow, vanishing out of thin air. Blades began flying at Noah from different angles, each one passing through him without inflicting any damage. The assassin appeared able to move between shadows, almost like teleportation, and here in Duravound, there was plenty of darkness for him to travel through. However, it didn’t matter, since his blades couldn’t harm Noah.
Suddenly, he tried to appear behind Noah once more, emerging from his shadow. He held a dagger in one hand, while his other hand was empty, but wrapped in an unholy aura. He lunged with his glowing hand, but Noah grabbed his wrist and kneed him in the stomach. The assassin endured the blow and lashed out with his dagger, once again failing to slash through Noah. However, while the blade passed through him, Noah’s grip on his wrist vanished and the assassin was able to jump back.
“Starting to figure it out?” Noah asked. “Like you said, deceptions. I have the power of illusions. Until now, I could create a copy of myself that would look, sound, and even smell exactly like my real body, but couldn’t interact with the physical world. I could also conceal my presence, hiding my image, voice, and scent, while remaining vulnerable to attack. This is the next level of my concealment magic: False Self. Now I have become the illusion. When you attack, you strike nothing but a phantasm, mere smoke and mirrors, but when I attack, it is painfully real.”
“That’s impossible! Such a power cannot exist!”
“Well, you helped. When you looked in my eyes, your perception of me was altered against your will, and perception is where the power of illusions lies. Just as light behaves differently depending on whether or not it is observed, I can bend the laws of physics thanks to how you perceive me. To put it simply, you are incapable of killing me.”
“We’ll see! You aren’t the only one who can ignore attacks!”
The assassin then began to dissolve, turning into a black cloud. Shadow jumping, the black hand, and now a mist form. Noah wasn’t sure how one Profane could have so many different abilities with such diverse natures, but it didn’t matter. The cloud swirled around Noah, with the assassin’s mocking laughter echoing.
“Go on, inhale in the fumes! Even if my blade can’t reach you, you still need to breathe to live!” The cloud was unquestionably toxic, and Noah drew his sword and swung it out of curiosity. As expected, there was some reaction as the black mist particles were burned by his holy blade, but he could slash a thousand times and still not inflict enough damage to actually wound the assassin. “Swing your blade as much as you want! You cannot cut the wind!”
“Well, well, well, it appears you have me over a barrel. But if you’ve learned anything from me, it’s that appearances can be deceiving.” Noah raised his hand. “I always thought that announcing one’s spells and attacks was rather silly, but I have to be honest, it brings me a special form of satisfaction to say this: False World.”
He snapped his fingers, and in that moment, the cloud of mist was dispersed by a fiery explosion. The assassin didn’t understand what was happening, overwhelmed by pain that defied all description. Searing flames, burning him down to the bone, boiling his blood and melting his eyes, while a thunderous crack ruptured his eardrums like they were soap bubbles; he felt it all in a single moment that refused to end. Even in his mist form, when he should have been immune to all damage, he experienced the agony as if he was flesh and blood, yet he would not die, even as he felt his organs turn to charred leather.
His spell was broken and he took his original form, being thrown back and rolling through piles of ash and dust. As he hit the ground, three black masses separated from his and turned into fellow assassins. They pushed themselves up with limbs that they thought had been destroyed and looked at each other, despite being sure they had lost their eyes, and realized they were alive and unharmed. The pain they had initially experienced soon faded, though they were left struggling to breathe
“So that’s how it works,” said Noah. “You somehow merge with your allies, allowing you to use all their powers. However, since they were fused with you, your allies also fell victim to my magic. An interesting technique, but that’s all it is. It won’t save you.”
The city of Duravound was gone, the entire mountain having seemingly vanished, replaced with a vast field of destruction. The burning rubble of a pulverized city stretched for miles in all directions, and the sky itself seemed to burn. Noah still stood before them, and behind him, a mushroom cloud towered.
“What is this? What’s going on?” the assassin leader coughed, feeling the scalding hot air burning his lungs.
“This is a memory from the first time I experienced an atomic blast. I didn’t die immediately. I hung on for maybe ten or twenty seconds after the explosion, suffering some of the worst pain that the body had possibly experience. Welcome to the False World. Before, I could only create illusory animals, weapons, and machines, but now I can paint over the world with an illusion to deceive your eyes, nose, and ears. And, since you looked into my eyes, the spell is far more potent, and you can experience the same agony I did.”
One of the assassins got to his feet with his hands wrapped in a dark aura. “If it’s just an illusion, that means you can’t really hurt us! No matter what pain you trick us into feeling, we can keep going!”
“Yes, by all means, keep flailing away at me with your knives, because that worked out so well before.”
“But we didn’t attack with just knives,” the leader muttered, then turning to his comrade. “He intentionally intercepted when I used your magic. I bet he’s vulnerable to techniques like yours.” He got to his feet and readied his daggers. “We’ll provide an opening. Don’t waste it.”
With all of his willpower, he charged forward, ignoring the flesh-melting heat around him. At the same time, the mist assassin returned to his vaporous form and the shadow assassin delved into the darkness. The leader lunged at Noah, swinging his knives wildly, but failing to leave a single wound. Noah raised his sword and swung at the assassin, who let himself be cut. However, the moment Noah’s blade touched his foe, the shadow assassin appeared behind him for a stab to the heart. Since Noah’s magic stopped working the moment he inflicted an attack of his own, the only way to wound him with a normal dagger was to attack at that very same moment.
Before the ghoul’s blade could reach Noah, the landscape them around them shifted. Instead of the site of a nuclear blast, Noah and the assassins were surrounded by the night sky, with stars in all directions. The very ground itself had vanished, and the assassin felt his stomach lurch. It was as if gravity itself had been negated, with his inner ear canals sending mixed signals to his brain, leaving him unable to tell up from down. In that instant of confusion, Noah turned around, his blade already soaked in the blood of the leader, and he bifurcated the assassin.
His mist foe encircled him like before, trying to poison him with toxic fumes. The scenery shifted once more, with the vacuum of space replaced with a windswept field being ravaged by a massive tornado. There was no actual air blowing, but the assassin still felt himself being blasted by the titanic winds, and his formation came undone as if he was tripping on his own feet. He reformed his body on instinct, feeling like he’d be scattered to the point he could never return to physical form. The moment he was solid, Noah’s sword separated his head from his neck.
All that was left was the black-handed assassin, falling towards him directly above. The dark aura he exuded allowed him to kill whoever he touched in a matter of moments, and if his fallen leader was correct, Noah’s magic let him phase through solid objects and people, but not spells. However, his hands passed right Noah just like the blades, and he landed on the ground, bewildered, only to feel Noah rest his sword on his shoulder. The real Noah was standing behind him, and the one he attacked was just another illusion.
“Go ahead and kill me. I won’t talk.”
“I don’t need you to. I already know plenty, and the things I don’t know, I doubt you’re aware of. Believe it or not, you’re actually more useful to me dead than alive.”
He wrenched his sword, ending the assassin’s life and sending his head rolling. Noah dispelled the illusion, once more surrounding himself with the city of Duravound. That was an excellent field test, and there was surely more to experiment with. His new techniques were a game-changer, albeit with a mana cost to match. Though using False Self made him immune to physical damage, every time his body turned ethereal and something passed through him, it used up a great deal of energy, as to be expected when cheating death. That said, the assassin leader was remarkably intuitive. He figured out Noah’s weaknesses almost immediately. Regular weapons couldn’t hurt him unless it was the moment he attacked someone else, and he was still vulnerable to spells.
Noah looted the assassins’ corpses of anything of value, then collected one of their heads and made his way to the royal palace. By now, the other assassins had been dealt with, and his friends were surely there to get the king up to speed on what happened. The fact that they went after him instead of the king was interesting. Not only did they register Noah as a more important target, but it also meant that they didn’t want Duravound to fall apart due to a power vacuum. He could only assume it was because of their plans regarding Zyrga.
He arrived at the palace, and as expected, his friends were there, speaking with the king. There were also various government and military officials present, with the king attempting to restore order to the chaos. Everyone seemed relieved to see Noah, and Shannon rushed over to hug him.
“My Lord,” she sighed happily, then stepping back when she realized he was carrying a severed head.
“I take it that the last invader has been slain?” Geord asked.
“Correct. It seems their main goal was to eliminate me, and failing that, they tried to sow discord and havoc in Duravound. It’s the classic Profane playbook.”
“If you were the intended target, then all the lives we just lost were because of you,” General Aldhim growled.
“Is that really the angle you’re going to come at this from? Here I am, holding the head of one of the actual offenders, but you still want someone to be mad at, so you’re choosing me. Find a better use for your anger, one that isn’t so childish.”
“You son of a—”
“He’s right,” said Geord, raising his hand and silencing the general. “Indignation and self-righteousness are useless to us. We must focus on helping the wounded and repairing the damage. The Profane have already declared war on us, and they’re going to win if we waste our time and energy blaming each other for what they do.”
“While I offer my condolences for the lives lost and the damage your city has suffered, there is a silver lining to this attack. It allowed me to capture and interrogate my assailants. Thanks to a dose of truth serum, I learned some interesting secrets from this guy here. For one thing, Prince Lupin is still alive.”
Seraph’s jaw hung slack and he staggered forward, with everyone around him likewise shocked. “Is it true? He’s alive?” he gasped.
“He is, and I know precisely where he’s being held. He’s in northern Vandheim, in a Profane mansion. If we can rescue him and get him back to Colbrand, he can assume the throne, freeing Tarnas to take to the front lines. We’ll have two Light’s Emissaries on the battlefield instead of just one.” The irony was not lost on Noah that he was lying about using truth serum, but, like he told his assassins, they were exactly what he wanted. Now he could start divulging the intel he’d received from Bella.
“We will muster our forces to help you liberate the prince at once,” said Geord.
“That won’t be necessary. My friends and I will do it alone.”
“Noah, are you sure about this? Just the nine of us?” Valia asked.
“Ten,” said Roc. “I think I know the mansion you’re describing. It is regarded as a cursed place by those of us who dwell in the Ashok Mountains. If you’re planning on reducing it to rubble, then I’m coming along.”
“Make it eleven,” Cynatas then added. “Tonight, I have fulfilled my vow and helped protect this city from attackers. I can now set out on my own path, and the first thing I’m going to do is help you save Lupin.” Roc should have been happy by the news that she was coming along, but instead, he seemed deflated.
“With my new magic and the strength of our formation, we can handle a whole castle of Profane. You, me, and Shannon struck a blow against them when we took down Carthace, and since then, they have been relentless in coming after us. I say it’s our turn once more to take the fight to them.”
Valia smiled. “You’re right. The people most qualified to save the prince are already gathered in this room. Besides, if someone as cautious as you is feeling so assured, then I’d say our chances are excellent.”
“Lupin, we’re coming,” Seraph said softly.
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