by Michael Sisa
“Your Majesty,” said Lark. “Your safety will be our top priority. If the demon breaks out of the phylactery, just as we planned, we’ll immediately flee in the direction of the Dwarven Kingdom.”
The King nodded. He also agreed with this plan, since they’ll be luring the demon away from the direction of the Kingdom of Lukas.
Lark breathed in deeply and said in a firm voice, “Let’s start.”
He took out the high-grade mana stone and forced the mana stored inside to break out. Large amounts of mana started oozing out of the stone. Lark forced it to move into the phylactery, activating the magic formation engraved inside it.
Like a glutton, the phylactery sucked in all the mana oozing out of the high-grade mana stone. Slowly, the runes carved inside it activated. As though it had a life of its own, it tasted the drops of blood inside it and started yearning for more. King Alvis felt an indescribable force pulling him toward the mithril jar. For a moment, he was afraid that the phylactery would suck him inside.
“It’s uncomfortable, but please endure, Your Majesty,” said Lark as he continued guiding the mana inside the phylactery. “What the phylactery is yearning for isn’t your blood, but the fragment flowing through it.”
True enough, King Alvis felt something separate from his body, before going inside the phylactery. It was a peculiar sensation, as though a piece of himself had been torn away and eaten by the mithril jar.
After confirming that the fragment was finally inside the phylactery, Lark immediately started gathering the mana required to activate the Pinnacle Grade Spell—Heaven’s Dominion. By this time, the high-grade mana stone had already been wrung dry. It was now the turn of the flower to supply the amount of mana needed for the ritual.
The ground rumbled as the twenty-meter large magic formation was activated. The runes came to life, starting from the inner layer of the magic formation, spreading toward the outside. At the same time, the grinded pieces of the flower started sucking in ambient mana. The amount being gathered was so colossal that even the non-magicians could see the torrent of mana. This process went on for several minutes, until the mana in their immediate surroundings had been sucked dry.
Finally, they’d gathered enough mana for the Pinnacle Grade Spell.
Lark wordlessly activated the spell—Heaven’s Dominion.
A barrier made from the strongest defensive spell started enclosing the phylactery. It wrapped around it several times, forming a translucent shield resembling glass.
The ground stopped rumbling.
Now that the fragment was inside the phylactery, with a Pinnacle Grade Spell protecting it, all that was left was severing the link.
“I’ll sever the link now, Your Majesty,” said Lark, his face a bit anxious compared to before.
In his current state, even he would find it hard to win against a High Demon, moreover if it was on the level of a Demon Lord. He knew that there was a high chance that he’d die here, the moment he tried severing the link. Well, he could probably make it out alive if he ran away by himself. But that was the last resort he decided he’d make.
Seeing the conflicted expression of Lark, who remained stoic even after being mocked and threatened by Nickolai, the king knew that the most dangerous part of the ritual had come. He nervously swallowed the lump in his throat.
King Alvis closed his eyes. “Do it.”
Now that the fragment had been separated from His Majesty’s body, severing the link was a trivial thing. Cutting it using mana should do the trick.
Lark manipulated his mana and started separating the small, inconspicuous thread linking the fragment and the King.
And cut it.
The moment the link was severed, an eerie screeching sound echoed from the phylactery. It was so incessantly loud that Lark and King Alvis reflexively covered their ears.
After the screeching sound died, loud thud sounds reverberated in the meadow. It was the same sound as a battering ram hitting a portcullis, only ten times louder.
With bated breath, everyone stared at the phylactery. The sound was coming from that small silver-black jar. With each thud sound, the jar shook, almost toppling over from impact. Whatever was currently contained inside the mithril jar was struggling to get out.
“W-What’s that?” One of the soldiers watching the ritual cried out.
Black wisp seeped out of the phylactery and flew up into the sky, forming a massive ball of black smoke the size of two carriages combined. At the center of the black smoke, a golden, slit-like eye looked at the humans on the meadow below.
“Kid,” Nickolai gnashed his teeth. “Did the ritual fail?”
The three colossal spears of lightning pointed their tips at the black smoke at the sky. Nickolai was ready to fire his spell at the demon at any time.
A kilometer away from this place, Lark felt the undulating mana from Elias ‘Farsight’. It seemed that the best archer of the Kingdom had gathered vast amounts of mana into his arrow, ready to strike down the demon.
“No,” said Lark. He looked at the phylactery. The mithril jar showed no signs of breaking as of this moment. “As long as the medium is intact, that demon will still be bound by Heaven’s Dominion.”
Nickolai didn’t seem to be convinced of Lark’s answer. His lightning spears aimed at the black smoke crackled dangerously.
“If the demon’s still bound by the spell, then... what the hell is that?”
The golden eye inside the black smoke continued observing the humans below. Even Lark found it peculiar. He could not understand the actions taken by the demon just now. It seemed that instead of using the fragment to open a portal to this location, the demon opted to just observe the humans using vision magic. It no longer tried breaking the mithril jar the moment it saw the humans.
After heavy silence, an eerie voice spoke. It was as though five men were speaking the same words, at the same time. The voice resounded in the meadow.
“I see. You are the descendant of that human,” said the black smoke. The golden eye was looking straight at King Alvis. “Interesting. Truly interesting.”
The golden eye quickly scanned the surroundings. The army below, the mountain range to the east, the colossal lightning spears and magic arrows aimed at it, and finally, at the mithril jar sitting on the ground.
The golden eye clad in black smoke slowly hovered down. Lark signaled the royal court magicians not to fire their spells at it. Right now, Heaven’s Dominion was still enclosing the phylactery. The demon would be unable to do anything to them as long as that spell was still active.
The moment the golden eye was directly above King Alvis, it said, “Tristan… You really resemble that snotty brat. Now… this brings back fond memories. How pleasant.”
The eyes of King Alvis slowly grew wide. He hadn’t expected such words to come out of the demon’s mouth.
King Tristan Lukas I was the founding king of this nation. According to the history passed down the royal family, he was the king who made a pact with the demon called Agares.
“A-Are you the demon called Agares?” said King Alvis.
The black smoke closed its eye for a moment. “Agares. Indeed, Tristan used to call me by that name.” Although the demon’s voice sounded eerie, it seemed that right now, it was laughing, as though the mention of its name brought pleasant memories.
“That cheeky brat’s descendant managed to sever the curse in the end, huh? I’m glad.” The demon chuckled.
Slowly, the black smoke started dissipating.
“I would have loved to stay some more and listen to stories, descendant of Tristan. But the miasma shrouding this fragment will damage the medium, should I linger in this plane any longer. Listen, Barkuvara is going to wake up soon. Strengthen your forces. Seek the protection of the dragons. The moment he wakes up, my tribe will no longer be able to prevent the demon race from slaughtering the humans. Everything… is only a matter of time. Descendant of Tristan, use everything you have to ensure your survival.�
��
And the smoke and the golden eye disappeared completely.
Silence fell.
Everyone was too stunned about what had just transpired to utter a single word. They’d expected to fight a life-or-death battle, but the demon they feared ended up giving them a warning about an impending doom instead.
Lark grabbed the phylactery on the ground. It was still in fairly good condition. For some reason, the demon called Agares made sure not to damage the mithril jar. Even the mana maintaining the Pinnacle Grade Magic was left untouched. Truly, that demon was a peculiar one.
For some reason, it felt as though Agares deliberately suppressed the fragment to avoid damaging the phylactery. Lark smiled wryly at this thought.
They’d been worried for nothing, after all.
“Barkuvara,” mumbled King Alvis. He’d heard that name several times before.
The Blue Moonlight Troupe frequently performed plays reenacting the battle between the avatar of the Sun God and the Demon Lord Barkuvara.
EPILOGUE
Contrary to everyone’s expectations, the ritual at Fork Meadow ended with no casualties. Furthermore, the demon left without even destroying the mithril jar and the Pinnacle Grade Spell. None of them could contain their joy, since they’d just survived what was supposed to be a life-or-death situation.
It felt as though the Goddess of Luck smiled upon them.
That very same night, instead of going to the nearest city, King Alvis decided to hold a feast on Fork Meadow. A large bonfire was lit at the camp and food was unsparingly handed out to the soldiers and mercenaries. It was a sumptuous feast composed mainly of grilled meat, bread, wheat soup, and mead.
Lark wondered where the supplies team got hold of the alcohol, when it was strictly forbidden on a military expedition like this. Well, there was no use in pondering over useless things.
“Anandra, you’re not going to eat?” said Lark.
Anandra was leaning on their carriage, his sword dangling on his waist. “I’m still on guard duty, My Lord. I will have my fill later once everyo—”
Lark tossed a bottle of mead to him and Anandra caught it nimbly. “Stop being stubborn. Although our group is currently camped at the periphery of this army, there’s a very slim chance someone would suddenly attack us with all of these soldiers around. You’re not some old man. Join us.”
Austen and George snickered, their mouths still filled with grilled meat. The two always called Anandra ‘old man’ behind his back. And during the days when the brothers were more audacious, they would sometimes openly call him ‘gramps.’
Anandra heeded Lark’s request. He sat down next to the brothers and cast an icy gaze at the two for a moment. Austen froze, while George choked on the food in his mouth.
It was subtle, but Lark was sure that Anandra smirked after seeing George gasp for air.
“You’re picking on kids now?” chuckled Lark. He moved his cup right in front of Anandra and said, “Let’s drink.” Anandra hesitated for a moment before opening the bottle of alcohol. He filled Lark’s cup half full. Anandra’s expression as he stared at the bottle in his hand was a dead giveaway. He was definitely wondering if they were even allowed to drink this thing. “Even the top brass are drinking.” Lark gulped down his cup in one go. “And we won’t get drunk on mead anyway.”
Anandra was surprised that Lark was lenient on this. He also grabbed a cup and silently started drinking. Around them, the sound of soldiers laughing reverberated.
Lark looked at Chryselle, who until now, was looking silently at the direction of the bonfire. The meat in her hand was almost untouched.
“You look gloomy,” Lark said to her. “Is something the matter?”
Chryselle looked at him and sighed. “Master Lark… what do you think of the demon’s words? The things it said before it vanished.”
“That His Majesty is the spitting image of King Tristan?” joshed Lark.
“Not that!” said Chryselle.
Lark chuckled.
“What I’m talking about is Bar—”
“—Barkuvara,” said Lark. “It’s surprising. It seems you’re familiar with the name.”
“Everyone who studied in the Magic Academy is familiar with him,” she said. “That’s the same Demon Lord who destroyed the Magic Empire over a millennium ago.”
Lark understood where she was coming from, and what she was worried about. Although the soldiers were currently in a festive mood after this morning, the royal court magicians looked uneasy. Their worries were probably the same as Chryselle’s.
“The demon said it himself, that Barkuvara is still asleep as of this moment,” she said. “After hearing that, everything finally made sense. Why after destroying the Magic Empire, the demons suddenly went into hiding and didn’t come out even after a millennium had passed.” Chryselle looked down and tightened her grip on the grilled meat in her hand. “If that demon suddenly wakes up…”
Lark remembered the words uttered by Agares before he disappeared.
The moment he wakes up, my tribe will no longer be able to prevent the demon race from slaughtering the humans. Everything… is only a matter of time.
Lark also had several questions after hearing those words. He had several conjectures, especially after seeing the magic used by Agares during their short encounter, but he knew it’d be impossible to come up with any conclusion with the little amount of information they currently had.
Even if they moped all day and feared for the impending doom of the human race, nothing would change. Lark decided to at least enjoy the festivities tonight and drink to his heart’s content.
“Even if the demons suddenly come out of their hiding and started attacking the humans, we won’t be annihilated without a fight,” said Lark.
Chryselle looked up and stared at him. There was indescribable strength seeping through those blue eyes. Once again, she questioned if the person in front of her was really someone who’d just come of age.
“And even if Barkuvara wakes up today, it’s not like he’ll be able to incite the demons to attack human nations the next day. Just like us humans, demons have an established hierarchy. Just think of it like the nobility. I’m pretty sure someone else is ruling over the demon race right now, with Barkuvara absent for over a millennium. Agares is probably part of that ruling class, since they’re able to stop the demons from slaughtering the humans. The demon said it himself, right?”
Lark plopped himself on the grass and looked at the clear sky. “And besides, humans aren’t weak. The human race survived the Cataclysm and the Descent. It’s the same even at today. They’ll always find ways to survive, no matter what.”
Chryselle also looked up. For some reason, the sky looked beautiful tonight. She smiled. “You’re right.”
While the two were enjoying the view of the night sky, a familiar voice said, “Here you are.”
Lark looked at the source and saw Farsight walking toward his direction. The man’s skin was as white as before. His black eyes were even darker than the night itself.
“His Majesty’s calling for you,” said Farsight. “Come with me.”
For a moment, Farsight looked at the direction of Anandra, then at the brothers devouring the food, before finally resting on the red-haired woman.
Lark stood up and dusted his clothes. For a royal court magician to personally come and get him, the matter must be of great importance.
“What is it about?” said Lark.
“You’ll know when we get there,” Farsight gave an apathetic reply.
After telling his disciples that he’d be right back after meeting His Majesty, Lark followed Farsight all the way to the largest tent at the center of the camp. The guards standing outside saluted upon seeing the royal court magician and Lark.
“His Majesty is waiting for you, please come inside,” said one of the guards.
Farsight swept away the tent’s flap and entered, along with Lark.
King Alvis, Lady Ropia
nna, Nickolai, General Carlos, and several high-ranking officers in the military were already inside. They stood around a round wooden table. At the center of the table was the phylactery. Even now, it was lightly glowing. A crystal-like substance was still enclosing it.
“It’s an honor to be in the presence of Your Majesty.” Lark bowed the moment he entered the tent.
“As I said before, there’s no need for formalities, especially when we’re not inside the throne room,” said King Alvis.
The king never looked as healthy as he was tonight. The numerous small black patches on his skin had vanished entirely. After the curse was severed, Lady Ropianna’s healing spells had worked wonders on the king. It looked as though the king had become younger by five years.
King Alvis directed his gaze at the direction of the tent’s entrance. Outside, the ebullient voices and laughter of the soldiers resounded.
“It’ll be a shame if you aren’t able to enjoy the feast because of this old man here.” King Alvis smiled gently. “So I’ll make this quick. We plan on giving you an appropriate reward for this feat the moment we went back to the capital. Please use this time to think of what you want. As long as it is within my abilities, and as long as it is something that will not harm the Kingdom, I promise to grant your desires.”
Lark already had several things in mind. If they included the Endless Forest, his territory in the east was probably even larger than the entire Kingdom itself. He had an incredibly vast territory—but he lacked people. He lacked manpower.
“I’m forever grateful. I’ll think about it carefully, Your Majesty.” Lark bowed his head.
“The kid keeps getting accomplishments one after another.” Nickolai smirked. “It’s not even a half a year since the war with the Empire had ended. It’s like he has the devil’s luck or something.”
King Alvis ignored Nickolai’s derisive statement. He laughed heartily. “Isn’t that right? With all these achievements… at this rate, you’ll end up becoming the heir to the throne a few years from now!”
