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The Exalted Mage - Chapter 5: Greystone Town
🕑 Added 2025-12-28 01:25:08 +0000 UTCVeronica didn’t waste a second. She bolted into the woods, weaving between the trees. Behind her, the camp erupted into chaos.
“She’s running!” one of the mercenaries shouted.
“Get her!” Jorren bellowed, clutching his mangled arm.
Veronica didn’t look back. She continued to run, already aware of the general direction of Greystone after traveling with the mercenaries for half a day.
Mana continued to stream into her as she ran. The ambient energy was faint, but she pulled in as much as she could. The rate was slower now that she was caught in an intense sprint, but she had no other choice. If only she had more time, she could attune herself properly to her disciplines and at least advance back to a Tier-2 or Tier-3 mage. For now, she had to make do with attune-less magic.
Minutes passed, and the sound of galloping horses echoed behind her, accompanied by the anger-filled shouts of the mercenaries. The torches they carried flickered through the leaves and trees.
Veronica skidded to a stop, twisting to face the approaching group. She had used a third of the mana she gathered overcapping her limit, to break the steel cuffs. Now, she would use the remaining two-thirds. Her hands slammed against the ground as she channeled the mana she had gathered.
From the Path of Ruin, she unleashed a low Tier-2 spell: Fissure.
A thin, sharp crack shot forward from below her palms, splitting the earth in a jagged line that quickly expanded. It danced forth like lightning, traveling over a hundred meters, starting small, but growing in ferocity as it traveled deeper into the forest.
Earth moved, plants fell, and trees shifted over ever so slightly. To the outside world, it appeared as if Mother Nature had intervened, all to save one girl.
The ground beneath the mercenaries buckled and fractured, creating shallow gaps several inches deep. The spell wasn’t powerful; it wasn’t enough to trap them. But it was enough to misplace the gallops of their horses.
“W-what the—?!” Jorren screamed, clutching his arm as he fell off his horse.
Panicked neighs and shouts echoed back to Veronica through the forest as several mounts stumbled, toppling their riders.
[Mana: 189/200 MU]
She turned and resumed her running.
Horses were a mercenaries’ lifeline. Their best form of travel, along with a source to hold their food, weapons, and other items of importance. They’d be dumb to continue chasing her instead of tending to their horses.
Hours passed as the night fully set in, the forest stretching endlessly before her. The sounds of pursuit had long since faded, replaced by the rhythmic chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. Veronica’s pace slowed as fatigue set in, her body screaming for rest. But she couldn’t stop. Not yet.
The night wore on as she ran; every half hour, with any vestiges of mana she procured in the meantime, she reinvigorated herself with a Tier-1 Path of Blooming spell: Energize.
It was a spell that rejuvenated her muscles and dampened fatigue, granting a small boost of energy. But it wasn’t all-powerful. The more she used it, the larger the crash she’d experience later.
Luckily, with her increased mana regeneration from her mana rings, she could keep the spell up constantly through the night.
By the time the first rays of dawn broke through the trees, Veronica’s body was on the verge of collapse. Her legs were tired and her feet felt sore. Her clothes were also slightly torn and caked with dirt. But she had made it. The forest thinned ahead, giving way to rolling hills and, in the distance, the faint outline of a town.
Greystone.
Veronica slowed to a walk, her body trembling with exhaustion. She leaned against a tree, taking a moment to catch her breath and assess her situation. She was in no condition to fight, and her mana reserves were nearly depleted. But she had made it this far. Rest was close, but not quite within her grasp just yet.
Once she came closer to the town gate, she noticed something odd. There were no guards. No officials checking for the entrance.
That was… weird. Right?
Although she spent most of her time in Annesheim, the wealthy capital city, surrounded by nobles—she had visited poorer towns before during her expeditions. Even a remote place like this had to have guards. Was she mistaken?
[Veronica. It appears there is a commotion happening inside of this town.]
“Commotion?” she asked.
[A battle seems to be taking place.]
Veronica stepped through the open archway. The distant shouting sharpened as she advanced—people running, guards barking orders, the clatter of metal. A woman sprinted past holding a crying toddler. A pair of teenagers dashed by with baskets of goods they’d dropped and abandoned. Down the main street, a squad of guards rushed in formation toward the commotion. That explained the empty gate.
She followed the sound.
Up ahead, several soldiers were already engaged with a pack of goblins—eight in total, snarling and swiping with crude blades. The guards formed a semicircle, shields up, spears striking in practiced rhythm. It wasn’t a fair fight; within seconds, the goblins were cut down.
But Veronica’s brow furrowed.
Eight goblins alone wouldn’t be foolish enough to raid a town. Monsters weren’t geniuses—but they weren’t suicidal.
[I am detecting the sounds of a large monster approaching.]
Veronica squinted.
As the goblins were vanquished, the sound of loud stomps came from the forest. There—at the treeline, a large green monster carrying a large wooden club stepped into view.
“An ogre?” she murmured.
Before she could process further, a commanding shout came from behind her. “Everyone! Step away!”
Veronica turned, seeing a man in armor run past her.
“You! Get away from the battle zone!” he shouted, gaze directed at her. He was a large, bulky man in full plate metal armor. He looked to be in his fifties, gray streaks running through his dark hair, sharp-cut features set with a hardened scowl.
“Captain Luthen…!” a nearby guard shouted.
The other soldiers, still finishing off the final goblins, flinched at the sight of their captain barreling toward the much larger foe.
“Finish those pests!” Luthen ordered. “Form a perimeter! Push it away from the town—shields up, don’t get hit!”
The soldiers obeyed instantly, their movements disciplined despite the chaos. Half broke off to surround the ogre from the sides, jabbing with spears to draw its attention away from civilians. The rest dragged injured townsfolk to safety.
Luthen reached the ogre first, his sword slicing into its arm with a clean, practiced swing.
The ogre roared in fury, swinging its massive club with enough force to shake the ground. Luthen deflected the blow but was sent skidding back in his armored boots.
“Hold formation!” Luthen shouted, forcing stability back into his stance. “Find an opening!”
The ogre roared and swung again, much faster than before.
Luthen raised his blade just in time. The impact rattled through his arms, pain flaring up his shoulders as he was driven backward several steps.
“Damn thing’s stronger than expected—!”
He ducked as the club carved through the air above him and smashed into a wagon near the edge of the square. Wood detonated outward in a shower of splinters. The wagon collapsed, its contents spilling across the street.
A scream followed.
Luthen’s eyes snapped toward the sound.
A child stumbled out from behind the wreckage—small, frozen in place, staring up at the towering monster with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
“GET BACK!” Luthen shouted.
The ogre’s head turned slowly. Its beady eyes locked onto the child.
It took a step.
Luthen lunged to intercept—but the ogre was faster.
The club swung low and wide, catching him across the side. The blow hurled him off his feet and sent him skidding across the dirt. His armor rang as he rolled to a stop, breath torn from his lungs.
He tried to rise.
His limbs didn’t respond.
The ogre loomed, sizing Luthen up. It decided he wasn’t even a threat. It shifted its weight, angling toward the child instead.
“Hey! Get away from there!”
A woman’s voice shouted from behind. Luthen’s head whipped around.
The woman he had just yelled at to leave the area was still standing there. Luthen was about to yell at her to get away again, but then he noticed it.
Her arm was raised, palm flat, fingers stretched taut.
A stance—a spellcasting stance.
Luthen’s eyes widened. “You—”
He knew that posture. Every soldier trained to recognize it. Only mages used a stance that clean.
“Break formation!” Luthen shouted immediately. “All units, clear the front! Move, MOVE!”
His soldiers all jolted with uncertainty—but they obeyed. Their spears retracted, and they fell back, widening the circle. The child that had been frozen in fear, scrambled to their feet and ran.
The ogre turned toward the girl that just shouted. It roared as it spotted the human there, standing still with her arm raised. Her pose was almost like a taunt. The ogre raised its club and took a single step to charge at her.
But a single step was all it could take.
“The backlash from this is going to feel so bad…” she muttered.
Luthen turned just in time to see her unleash a spell.
Veronica didn’t disappoint.
Mana surged toward her, drawn from the air and from the dregs of her own depleted core. Two white wings appeared on her hand. A translucent spell circle burst into existence in front of her palm—thin, faint, flickering with weakness, but still geometrically perfect. Runic glyphs spiraled along its rim, struggling to hold shape.
She normally didn’t need spell circles for this.
But right now, she needed every scrap of control she could muster. Both mana rings within her rotated quickly, generating more and more mana. She could feel the strain in her core.
The ogre’s foot slammed down. Veronica spun her rings to the maximum limit and fired her spell.
A fireball the size of her head erupted from her palm, launching forward with a roar. The spell circle shattered like glass behind it. The projectile slammed into the ogre’s chest and detonated. Unlike the spell against the Fellabear, this one came with much more explosive power.
An explosion ripped through the morning’s sunrise, echoing through the town. A shockwave blasted outward, sending dirt and stone spraying in a wide cone behind the creature. The earth tore open, leaving a small crater where the ogre had stood. Smoke billowed in violent plumes; the scent of scorched flesh and burning wood filled the street.
For a moment, nothing could be seen through the billowing dust.
Then the silhouette reappeared.
The ogre stood. Its chest was a blackened ruin, ribs half-exposed and melted together. Charred skin sloughed off in melted strips, heat-warped and sizzling. The creature staggered, swaying like a felled tree on its final tilt.
Luthen stared, speechless.
With a final groan, the ogre toppled backward, shaking the ground as its massive corpse crashed onto the earth, completely dead before it hit the dirt.
The street fell silent except for the settling dust… and the soft, exhausted exhale of the girl who had just annihilated it.
Veronica fell to her knees, breathing heavily.
Luthen, captain of the armed soldiers came over to her. He didn’t say a word. She looked up at him.
“Hey… is that child… alright?” She asked with a wry smile.
He looked her over for a moment before speaking. “The kid’s fine. Probably scared, but they're safe.”
“That’s good…” she drawled. “Hey—mind… taking me somewhere I can sleep?” Slowly, her body failed her, and she fell onto the ground, unconscious, completely exhausted.
