Chapter 279 – The Other Side

Chapter 279 – The Other Side

It took two more days for our first independent agreement with the Atuvians to become finalized, put into writing, and signed by both parties. Before leaving, I personally accompanied them through the city, stopping at the newest landmark, right beside the front gates of my city. It was almost as tall as the walls, a black obelisk with names etched onto it, glittering in gold.

"Who are these people?" Alvor asked, looking at the hundred or so names etched onto its surface.

"The Honored Dead." I answered calmly, gazing at it. "Soldiers who fell in battle and gave their lives to protect Avalon. People who achieved something great before their death. Anybody who honored my land with a deed worthy of remembrance. We mostly burn our dead, and those who did something worthy, their names will be forever remembered."

"I see." He nodded, ruminating on my words and paying respect to the obelisk. It was a small gesture but one that showed he was a man who would make an excellent diplomat. No wonder he was sent on this mission to find help for the two guilds. "It... looks fresh."

"It is. We just repelled an invasion force of Ishillia, took down one of their airships, and killed their mage for invading our territory." I told him blandly but proudly, making sure he understood the implications behind my words. "These are the names of heroes who gave their lives for our victory."

Looking at him, I saw the surprise and shock in his eyes. Ishillian warships were famous for their power and unstoppable force. The Scorc Kingdom's feat of bringing one down was already news that spread like wildfire when it happened, even if they still fell to Ishillia... Hearing me speak about so nonchalantly and seeing the city intact was even more shocking. Then he realized there were way too few names on the obelisk... Of course, I noticed everything mirrored on his face, but I wasn't going to explain it further. Why should I? It is a misunderstanding I am glad to play along with. Let him bring back news that Avalon has the power to not only bring down Ishillian ships, kill their mages, and withstand their attacks but do so without suffering a black eye in return.

...

....

......

"Finally!" Merlin moaned in relief, realizing he was dreaming of a space most familiar to his mind. "Took you long enough to let me back in!"

"I was working." his old self responded, appearing from behind the thousands of bookshelves rounding Merlin. He was, as always, calm, collected, and neutral, carrying a dozen heavy tomes in his hands.

"We found–"

"I know. I was working on that the moment I saw it through your eyes. Come." He walked past him, leading Merlin to a prepared table. "Remember when I told you about the artifact of Wyland?"

"I do." Merlin nodded, walking by his side. I already figured you had it, or I had it, somehow. This is a bit confusing."

"The book is not physical; it never was; it just appears touchable. It is of pure energy, created from something that is not of this world. In turn, it can be absorbed, and I did just that."

"I guess, into your soul?"

"Yes." The Emperor of Magic nodded. "Previously, it was the prized artifact of the Vasa bloodline, but as it turns out, it can be retrieved from the body. Fishing it out of a soul... is more tricky."

"Ishillia had two all along..." Merlin whispered, furrowing his brows, realizing that it was no wonder the empire had stood for two thousand years.

"It was never a known fact, not even within the Emperors and Empresses. But that is not important. What is important is that the book's knowledge and power will come to you as you discover more about magic. Its knowledge will flow through you as it needs to... and if you are trained enough to handle it."

"Why tell me this now?"

"Because you found something I had never seen, and it bears the hand of Wyland, the God of Magic!" He answered, and there was an unmistakable child-like curiosity in his voice. "It excited the book... The reaction was intense. I have been ruminating over it since then."

"Did you find out something?" Merlin asked, looking at the books and their titles while his older self put them on the table. They were clearly magical tomes detailing ancient spells and history as he struggled to read the writings and symbols. They were barely similar to their current language; most of it was as if he looked at an alien tongue, even if he could recognize some letters to be old variants of modern letters.

"No, I did not."

"..." Merlin had to take a deep breath, feeling that his old self was... annoying. Somebody he couldn't imagine that it was him, even if in the past. He was... eccentric, to say the least. Which, in Merlin's own mind, he was not. No wonder the Emperor never got a significant other, heh.

"I hear your thoughts, you know."

"I know." Merlin responded at once, and he could swear he saw his old version hide a smile. "I will learn to block you out, you peeping Tom. Eventually."

"Bloodmagic..."

"Yes. And I worry that your Sovereign is already dabbling in it, too. Watch it, Merlin... I can't and won't stop you if you pursue it, but I am here to warn you! It doesn't take long to start walking down a path that leads to ruin."

Merlin didn't answer, although he felt insulted by his words. Still, he already knew his old self was cautioning him about the use of monster blood and magical tattoos, but... He didn't see it as evil as he did.

"What I am saying," The ancient Emperor shrugged, turning their conversation back to its origin, "Is that the formation you encountered was a reaction to something that crossed into the Pass. Something that should have not been able to pass through. Something that was detected too late and caused the mountains to go into an emergency activation. Like how our bodies react to an illness, causing us to have a fever. What you saw and found was how it was adapting and incorporating what it encountered, so it can resist it effectively next time."

"That... does not sound good." He grunted, and his old self agreed, nodding his head.

"No. It does not."

...

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......

Far away, on the other side of the mountain range that was raised by the Six Gods, within one of the many dense forests, the kind that seemed to consume every trace of light and sound, something stirred. The towering trees, dozens of meters thick, with twisted branches, reached skyward, trying to overshadow the others, vying for sunlight. Under them, shrouded in dark green and blackened leaves, creatures foraged and skittered around, trying to become the hunter and not the hunted. The canopy was so thick that only occasional streams of filtered sunlight managed to penetrate, casting an eerie, blotchy glow over the moss-covered ground and on the vines that slithered around tree trunks like living serpents, pulling fallen creatures and their bones down into the earth.

Through the permanent twilight, a shockwave ran through, rustling the massive trees and scaring the creatures living amongst them. It was the distant thunder of an active volcano—sounding like a caged beast slamming against its pen, wanting to be freed. Around the towering volcano itself, surrounded by the forest and built upon its rocky, charred slopes, was a man-made fortress—no, an entire city.

Massive stone walls rose from the base of the volcano, following its steep ascent in layered tiers, separating different rings of a metropolis that, in the end, led to a formidable castle towering at its apex. The castle walls were made of dark obsidian and veined with glowing lines of magical runes. They thrummed with energy in synch with the rumbles coming from the volcano. Gargantuan statues of unknown creatures and monsters—half-beast and half-man—stood guard along the walls, their eyes filled with human-sized CC, filled to the brim with energy.

Inside the city, narrow streets twisted and turned, leading to dim alleys and decorated courtyards. Every building was as if carved from black stone, sprouting dark iron gates, thick metal fences, and complex, coiling designs carved into the walls themselves.

Another rumble.

As it happened, originating from inside the volcano, the magic formations around the city, within its walls, and the eyes of the monster statues lit up at once. A spell formed at the top of the volcano, pushing down the lava, dominating nature's wrath, robbing it from exploding and destroying the city. As if angered by its continuous obstruction, something stirred deep within the heart of it.

Beneath the bubbling magma, there was a flicker, a brief moment when two inhuman eyes opened, glowing with primordial anger. Whatever it was, it looked through the magma, penetrating layers of magic formations, casting its gaze upon the sky, so far away from it.. yet so close.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the eyes closed, and the magma resumed its restless churning. But the presence remained—trying to burst forth once again, only to be stopped by the same magic.

"Master." A voice spoke somewhere within the castle at the top, built along the rim of the volcano itself, acting as the crown atop a severed neck. When the voice left its owner's throat, it traveled through a thick stone door, flowing into a pitch-black room.

"If it is about the report of our losses through the winter, don't bother." A deeper, archaic tone replied, not by speaking, but via booming within the mind of the owner of the first voice. "We already overexcited the beast within to heat up our abodes and get us through the winter. Now, I will need months to make it settle down."

"It is about the scout we sent forth. We finally analyzed the last thought it sent back. It only lasted a few minutes on the other side... but it confirmed the seers' divination."

"..." The silence was long, longer than the voice's owner was used to, but when his Master spoke again, his thoughts were calm and purposeful. "We will wait. Blood is our domain, and our essence will find its way back to us. We waited for long enough already; a bit more won't alter our course."

"The elders–"

"Stay put!" the ancient consciousness ordered, causing a splitting headache for his disciple. "Anyone risking our return will be fed to the fire. Am I clear?"

"Yes... Master."

"Then leave."

The disciple had no thought of arguing or going against his Master's wishes. Cupping his hands and stepping back, he left the dark corridor leading to the hidden chambers, welcoming the sunlight as he stepped out into the open. Letting his nervous breath go, he ran his fingers through his crimson-colored hair, looking up to the blue sky with green eyes, imagining what it would feel like to return to a world that his ancestors once called their home. Somewhere where monsters could not reach them anymore.