Legend of the Arch Magus: Valor

by M Sisa

  Even from this place, he could feel the absurdly large amount of mana from the center of the lake. The amount of mana was so humungous that Lark was unable to estimate how many monsters were residing in the lake.

  Let’s just hope that the mana belongs to several monsters. Otherwise…

  Lark looked at the castle being built. It would not protect them if by any godforsaken chance that mana actually belonged to a single entity. Even Lark was not confident on winning against such a monster. Well, there was also the option of running away..

  Several days passed and they arrived at another city, a very small one that was around five times the size of Blackstone Town. This place looked mediocre compared to Lion City – one of the major cities of the Kingdom. Lark’s group stayed there for a night, restocked their rations, then resumed their journey to the Capital.

  The journey thus far had been uneventful – until they arrived at a village next to a small river.

  Lark actually had no intention of stopping by this place, but his curiosity was piqued when he saw the tower at the center of the village.

  “We’re staying here for the night,” said Lark. “Stop the carts.”

  The servants and the soldiers looked at him quizzically. There was still a couple of hours before dusk, after all. There was no need to camp in this village.

  Lark, followed by his men, entered the village. The residents curiously went out of their houses to peek at Lark’s group.

  “Welcome.” An old man holding a walking stick stepped forward. “What can I do for you, sirs?”

  Since Lark was going to meet His Majesty at the Capital, his clothes were more gaudy than usual. There was no way for the residents of this village to mistake him for something other than a noble.

  “A place to stay for the night.” Lark looked around. He saw several children flinch and scurry away upon making eye contact.

  “The best inn in the village, of course.” The old man nodded his head. “If you would let this old man lead you there.”

  With the old man taking the lead, they entered a rundown inn. There were cobwebs on the walls, the tables were filled with dust, and the owner sitting at the counter was passed out drunk.

  The old man scratched his cheeks in embarrassment. He faked a cough then shook the shoulder of the drunkard. When the man showed no signs of waking up, the old man started slapping his face.

  “Oww!” The owner groaned, “What the hell’s your problem, old man?!”

  “Stupid son!” The old man clicked his tongue. “We finally have customers, idiot!”

  That statement broke the drunkard from stupor. He immediately stood up straight, coughed twice, and said, “Ah, dear customers! Welcome! Ninety coppers a night per person. If with dinner, it’ll be a silver and twenty coppers each!”

  A total rip off. Lark and everyone else knew this.

  Seeing their expressions, the drunkard played his trump card. “We’re the only inn in this village, honorable sirs.”

  “Young Master,” said one of the guards. “We still have a few hours before dusk. If we speed up a little, maybe we can reach the plains next to the hills. Camping there is a lot better than staying in this place.”

  The others agreed with this. They were infuriated that the villagers were outright scamming them.

  On the contrary, Lark remained calm. He did not come here for the inn or the village anyway. He came here for that: the thing standing at the center of this village.

  “We’re staying here for the night.” Lark placed several silver coins on the countertop. “Prepare the dinner. Immediately.”

  The owner of the inn gulped after seeing the silver coins. He immediately scooped it up, as though afraid the noble would take it back. “Of course! Right away!” His breath still reeked of alcohol.

  After dinner, Lark donned his cloak and stealthily moved out of the inn. It was late in the evening and everything was pitch black in this village, unlike in Blackstone Town where kalrane stones illuminated the night. All of the villagers here were already inside their houses.

  Lark walked towards the center of the village, towards the towering structure he saw from the outside.

  As I thought.

  The towering structure made entirely of stone had numerous symbols engraved on its body. It reminded Lark of the healing pillars he created in the Arena.

  Lark tried touching it, but a force blocked his fingers. A barrier was protecting this tower.

  Who made this tower? Why was this inside the village? There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask.

  And though answering one of his questions, a ball of lightning formed on top of the tower, before shooting towards the direction of the forest. Lark heard a faint yelp afterwards.

  Lark amplified his body with mana and ran towards the direction of the sound. He skidded to a halt and stared at a scorched corpse.

  It was a familiar monster. Despite its scorched body, Lark was sure of it.

  “A goblin.”

  Lark heard rustling sounds, and soon, three goblins came out. They shrieked upon seeing their dead comrade. Their eyes murderously glared at Lark.

  Lark was about to pull out his short sword when three streaks of light flew by and struck the goblins. It all happened in an instant. Three scorched bodies fell down limp and lifeless on the ground.

  Lark looked at the dead bodies, then at the tower at the center of the village.

  This was an incredibly advanced form of defensive magic. Something Lark was unable to create in Blackstone Town due to the lack of materials.

  When the morning came, Lark asked the inn owner about the tower at the center of the village.

  “The Wizzert Tower!” The drunkard was really proud. “That tower protects us from the monsters of the forest, you see. It could kill even a dire wolf in a single hit.”

  Austen, George, and Anandra silently listened to the conversation. They did not expect the tower at the center of the village to hold such power.

  “Wizzert Tower,” repeated Lark. He did not expect a tower which resembled those used in the Magic Empire to be in a small village like this one.

  “It’s been five years, huh?” The inn owner reminisced, “Five years ago, the Wizzert City expanded its domain. It offered protection to the villages and towns near its perimeter in exchange of taxes. Although we’re required to give a large portion of our hunt and harvest to the City, it’s nothing compared to the safety offered to us by the Tower.”

  The inn owner added a useless story, “I used to be a guard in this village, you see. But after the Tower was built here, monsters no longer were a threat. That’s why I used what little money I have left to establish this inn.”

  You’re going to have to close the inn soon, at this rate. Lark controlled the urge to tell him this outright.

  Demanding an exorbitant amount for a night was bad business sense on his part. Other visitors would definitely rather camp outside than pay such ridiculous amount. Lark and his group were an exemption, since Lark wanted to look at the tower up close.

  While the inn owner was busy telling his life’s story, Lark looked at the map of the Kingdom in his hand. They were supposed to pass through the City of Norfolk on their way to the Capital instead of Wizzert City, but after hearing of the origin of this tower, Lark decided to take the latter route. It would take them an additional half a day by taking this detour, but Lark wanted to see this so-called City of Magic no matter what.

  In a way, paying this exorbitant amount for the inn was worth the while. Lark had come to learn a few things about the tower at the center of this village. One thing was for sure – whoever created it was no simple magician.

  Lark decided to pass by the City of Magicians.

  ***

  At the same time, Mikael attentively watched over Lark and his group from a distance. He camped outside, away from the range of the tower.

  “Another one?” he sighed. From the shrubberies, a goblin leapt towards him, shrieking, its hands h
olding a wooden club.

  Mikael sidestepped and swiftly cut the head of the goblin. Its shrieking sound died in an instant.

  The retired knight swung his sword in the air, removing the blood clinging to it, before sheathing it back into the scabbard. Around him, several dead bodies of goblins were scattered on the ground.

  “I guess I have to sleep on the trees again, huh?”

  It was the best place to monitor Lark’s group and at the same time, it conferred a certain degree of protection from the monsters on the ground.

  If only the forests of the Kingdom were as peaceful as the Endless Forest, he would not be struggling this much.

  Mikael climbed the highest tree nearby and sat on a thick branch. He grabbed a meat jerky from his bag and opened his water flask. After eating his ration, he amplified his eyes with mana.

  Lark and his men were currently outside the inn, preparing for their departure for the next city.

  While monitoring the candidate, Mikael froze.

  Did he…

  It was for a short moment, but it felt like Mikael and the throne candidate locked eyes with each other.

  Mikael shook his head.

  Impossible.

  He was currently far away enough that it would be impossible to detect his presence.

  After that brief eye contact, the candidate continued with his conversation with his men like usual. It seemed that it was a mere coincidence, after all.

  “They’re moving out, huh?”

  After seeing Lark and his men boarding the carriages, Mikael jumped down the tree and untethered his horse.

  Chapter Seven

  [Wizzert City]

  Chryselle, her red hair covered by her cloak, sighed as she stared at the monument at the Central Plaza. A stone tablet left behind by the magicians who established Wizzert City – the stone tablet containing the puzzle left unsolved for centuries.

  Her father, grandfather, and the previous house heads of the Malvar Family – none of them were able to decipher this puzzle. None were able to figure out the meaning behind the symbols of the incomplete magic formation.

  She read words written at the bottom of the stone tablet.

  The true flow of mana will be revealed to the one who uncovers this truth.

  A simple yet mysterious line.

  According to the scholars who analyzed these texts, the creator of the tablet was pertaining to the origin of all spells. The magic formation without flaws. The most fundamental hexagram formation.

  According to theories, the magic formations used in this age was crude, with several flaws yet to be revealed by magicians. They said that if people were able to solve this puzzle, it would lead to a new age of magic. An age where people would be able to cast spells with the least amount of mana possible. An age where common people would be able to cast even the most complex of spells.

  “So, this is where you are.”

  Chryselle did not need to turn around to know the owner of the voice.

  “Staring at the puzzle again, huh?”

  The voice was warm, as though it wanted nothing but the best for this young woman.

  “Brother, I’m leaving for the Capital soon.” Chryselle’s crimson eyes shook for a moment. “I want to see it before I leave. For one last time.”

  Chryselle, despite her young age, was among the Elders of Wizzert City – the City of Magic. Several days ago, she received a letter from His Majesty: an invitation for the sixty-fifth birthday of King Alvis.

  Her brother, the current Master of the City, ruffled Chryselle’s hair. “Look at this kid! Didn’t I tell you that there’s no need for you to go? You can just ignore that old man! It’s not as if the Royal Family can touch us, right?”

  Chryselle did not like this arrogance. “Brother, there will be repercussions if you ignore the summons of the Crown.”

  His brother, who was also wearing a hood to cover his face, chuckled, “Repercussions? Like what?”

  He wrapped his arm around Chryselle’s shoulder. “Listen, my cute little sister. We have more than enough power to annihilate all the Royal Knights of the Capital. Those so-called Royal Court Magicians? They’re nothing but sprouts, students originating from this land. They can’t touch us.”

  It was true. Chryselle knew this more than anyone.

  “That’s why my genius little sister does not really need to answer the summons if she doesn’t want to.”

  Chryselle held back a scowl after hearing the word ‘genius.’

  To her, just the title alone felt disgusting. After all, it was a title granted to her by the Elders after her discovery of the towers. The towers capable of using mana from the surroundings and convert it into offensive magic.

  Contrary to what people knew, Chryselle was not the one who invented those things. She was simply lucky enough to find an ancient blueprint from a lost era.

  She was not a genius. For her, she was nothing but a liar, a fraud.

  “I will come to the Capital,” she said resolutely. “It’s not like you, the Master of the City, can go, right?”

  Her brother smiled wryly. There was no way for him to leave for the Capital and answer the summons of the Crown right now. That was why Chryselle was insistent of going in his stead.

  He sighed. “Fine. Take several guards and servants with you. I’m pretty sure that old coot will again try to persuade you. He’s pretty damn insistent on having the towers installed around the Capital. Be sure to reject him, understood?”

  His brother was probably the only person in this Kingdom who would dare call the King an old coot. Attaining the position of Master made him this arrogant.

  “Of course,” she said. “His Majesty wishes to use the towers to defend against the Empire. We can’t do that. Magic is not a tool for slaughter and war.”

  The Master of Wizzert City simply smiled at that naïve statement. Somehow, Chryselle was his source of sanity in this godforsaken world. His piece of tranquility in this politically-driven world.

  “That’s right,” he grinned. “Magic is not a tool for war.”

  ***

  Lark looked at the direction of the forest for a moment. He only noticed it now, but someone had been tailing their group from a safe distance.

  Who was he? Why was he following their group?

  It seemed that even Anandra failed to notice him, as he just silently stood there like a guard.

  The guy following us… he’s skilled.

  It would take a considerable amount of skill to tail their group from afar. Lark motioned for Anandra to come closer. He whispered, “Someone’s following us. Be on your guard.”

  The man with golden hair flinched. His eyes quickly swiveled left and right as he tried to find the person following them.

  “He’s currently watching us from the forest, probably on top of the trees.” Lark opened the door to the carriage and began to step inside. “We’ll pass through a plain before reaching Wizzert City. It’ll be easy to see him by then.”

  Anandra nodded his head. That guy would have no choice but to reveal himself in such an open field.

  “I understand. Once I see him—”

  “—Do nothing,” said Lark.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said do nothing,” said Lark. “For now.”

  Lark had an odd feeling about this guy following them from afar. Was he an assassin? That did not seem to be the case, although the chance of it being true was not nil.

  For now, he chose to trust his instinct: to wait things out and see.

  Lark entered the first carriage. “What are you two doing? Get. On. The. Carriage.”

  Each emphasized word made Austen and George flinch and jump. The two of them were currently holding a piece of parchment each. On the ground next to them was a half-completed drawing of a magic formation. It resembled the doodles of kids playing on a sandy beach.

  After Anandra, Austen and George entered the Carriage, their group started to move west, towards the direction of
Wizzert City.

  “How’s it?” Lark looked at the brothers holding the parchments. “Have you gotten the hang of drawing the magic formations?”

  The brothers looked at each other. They sheepishly smiled.

  “A little bit?” said Austen. Drawing the most basic magic formation was actually harder than they thought.

  Several days ago, Lark handed each of them a copy of the most basic magic formation. It was neatly drawn on a white parchment, and he tasked the two to remember each symbol written inside the magic circle. Every time they made camp, the brothers would draw on the ground and attempt to imitate the basic magic formation taught to them by Lark.

  It would have been an easy feat, but there was an ironclad rule which made everything several times harder than it should be: they should never lift off the drawing stick from the ground until they finished drawing the entire thing.

  According to Lark, this was a principle they had to adhere to no matter what, since on actual practice, the flow of mana should not be interrupted when casting magic formations. Otherwise, mana would dissipate and even the most basic spells would break.

  “This is just the start. What you’re being taught right now is simply the basics.” Lark looked out of the window. He could no longer see the village. “The basis of all spells, of all magic. The most basic magic formation.”

  The magic formation Lark handed to the brothers was the magic formation perfected by the mages of the Magic Empire, the most basic magic formation without a single flaw. Although it was more complex than its predecessor, once mastered, it would pave the path towards all the other elements.

  “We’ll only proceed with voice incantations once the two of you have mastered drawing that thing. Hopefully, within three years, the two of you will be capable of using chantless magic.”

  “Chantless magic,” mumbled George. He looked at Lark with a complicated expression. Although he was no magician, he has heard a few times before about how hard it was for a magician to perform spells without a chant. This noble, however, who was probably almost the same age as him, was capable of performing such feat easily.