***
Hours before the final battle,
Albert,
The spell that allowed me to receive visual and acoustic feedback from a familiar wasn't anything special; those were known, and generally well-understood templates and/or sets of weaves a more skilled mage can choose to integrate into his spells of ritual variety.
Case in point, Lisch constantly used them.
It's another matter that I never quite had time or the opportunity to dabble in them properly. I could still cast them, and I happened to have learned a few, but I never had the chance to properly master their use.
Mainly, I ignored those templates because they imposed severe range limitations. Being able to talk with people in Sturmkamm was about the extent of it for the variations of the template I've been using.
Still, piloting the familiars with those templates in use was a novel experience. The control nodes were far less pronounced than in golems, because the familiars still kept most of their autonomy, so there were limits to what I could make the familiar do.
While I could give the familiar broad commands, I wasn't really 'in control' of its body, for the most part. In other words, I could command 'sit still', and the familiar will do so to the best of its abilities, or I can tell it 'lift your wing', and it will do so, as it would also understand a command such as 'fly there', as long as I outline it with intent rather than words. Issue is, the details, such as 'how far to lift a wing' and 'how fast to fly' are something for the sets of instructions in the familiar's core personality to interpret, the very same one that consists of instructions and intent of the mage.
With that in mind, the experience of being carried by Hexe from the council was interesting, as the only feedback I had was of sight and sound.
The provost of the Academy carried the familiar in silence. She reached the building, opened the door, and, after knocking her boots together to brush off most of the snow, stepped into the lobby of the guild hall.
The room Hexe ended up occupying was, unsurprisingly, located in the alchemical guild of the city. It was their main distillation laboratory, to be exact.
The alchemists of Sturmkamm weren't that well-off. They were not poor by any means, but the scale of their presence and wealth was negligible compared to the enchanters, mostly because not much was required of the alchemists in the city. For enchanters, setting up shop in the city was incredibly profitable; they had access to both raw magical ores and refined metal ingots for easy use, and they could create custom magical items relatively cheaply here. It also helped that Zaudern had quite a sum to help develop his family's business back when the city was still a town, which allowed him to fold all the competition into his own burgeoning empire.
Comparatively, it was true that some alchemical solutions were needed for magical metal refinery and some forging techniques, and the Valley Guard indeed had their orders for potions and such, but… it was a local production. Nothing to expand towards, a rather small market.
The guild, naturally, reflected that.
It had decent equipment, from measuring magical artifacts to special cauldrons and distillation mechanisms, but it was nothing compared to Hexe's own private study that she assembled by hand, where half of the equipment was custom-commissioned.
The guild building was made to be well-ventilated and set on the corner of the city, so that any possible incident would be as confined as possible, which, as I grew to learn in Dornpass Academy, wasn't a question of 'if' with the alchemists, but rather of 'when'.
Inside, that meant air vents going through the roof and outside equipped with shutters, a dome-like roof, and massive enough internal spaces to fit the defensive enchantments engraved into the ground for the alchemists to jump into when accidents occurred, as those enchantments would help repel any liquid and smoke.
Hexe gestured, and several almost mana-inert magical lanterns ignited across the walls.
I willed the familiar to gently jump off Hexe's hands and fly onto the table that still had remnants of what I assume was Hexe's uneaten lunch, landing on it and turning to the woman, who had been taking off her coat and outer layers of clothing.
"You have time, but you should head to Berg and discuss your strategy, get a feel for each other's capabilities, that may be crucial." Activating the spell on the familiar, I spoke through it, making Hexe blink in surprise, "Staying in this building out on the edge of the city isn't safe either, at least, not for long."
Which was the absolute truth. I was relatively sure I was keeping track of all possible approaches for Aura's army, that was just it. I could observe them from a distance with familiars, but approaching anywhere closer, or trying to sneak past Aura's mana sense, proved futile. If a demon or a few had moved ahead to try their hand at assassination, I still could miss them.
That said…
"Didn't you say it's unlikely for Aura to split up her forces in such a way?" Hexe asked, for some reason smiling, some tension seeping away from her shoulders. "Even for subterfuge?"
"It is what I believe," I admitted, "But no matter how minuscule a risk, it's not worth gambling your life. You lose nothing by staying cautious."
Hexe snorted in a strangely ladylike fashion before gliding to the table and sitting opposite the familiar that followed her with its gaze. The woman sighed, looking outright exhausted.
I wasn't surprised. The meeting lasted a while, and Hexe had a habit of dropping parts of her facade in private… but only part of it.
"I wasn't expecting you to… stay," Hexe admitted, her voice growing a bit quieter, more vulnerable, "I was sure you would have had more important matters now."
If I were there, I would've tilted my head to show my confusion, but with a familiar, it's difficult to give orders like this. The template isn't sensitive enough to the intent; the motion would come out jerky and far too strong, ruining the reason to do it.
"I do not." I stated the obvious instead, "But if you would like some privacy, I can move my attention elsewhere."
Ultimately, I didn't have much to do on my end. The position I've chosen to wait in was about as perfect as I could find, close enough to move into the city if something went wrong, or to intercept Aura if it went right, with a good enough view on both while decently masked from prying eyes.
Frankly, I didn't have anything better to do but keep my attention on what my familiars see. There are prayers, of course, but I saw no point.
I wasn't conflicted, I didn't need spiritual guidance, and begging the Lord for victory and good fortune in battle only matters if such begging can reassure you.
God, after all, isn't more or less inclined to intervene from prayers alone.
"No, it's not that," Hexe denied, before exhaling, and resting an elbow on the table to press her cheek against her palm as she gazed at the familiar, her expression quite complex, "I… excuse me, I am not talking sense, I suppose I am just… anxious," she admitted with clear difficulty.
I wasn't surprised; I knew that admitting to weakness is difficult.
"There are parts of the plan that naturally would leave me concerned were I in your place, too," I admitted freely, seeing no point in dancing around the subject, "A lot of it is staked on trying to predict the behavior of demons and on a few key figures… yourself included. Most of the judgement calls involved are mine," I paused, considering my words, "Hexe, is your anxiety related to my judgement in regards to this plan… or your own role?"
I saw it, of course I did, I am a demon after all. There is no way I couldn't have noticed Hexe recoil briefly, as if slapped, when I questioned if she doubted me. Even if she managed to suppress the reaction almost instantly, and it must have looked as if she only twitched slightly, I am a demon, a creature who can read humans' emotional response as easily as breathing; to me, what she experienced was obvious.
And yet, it took me far too long, over a second in fact, to think of apologizing. By the time I did, Hexe was already answering.
"I do not doubt you, Albert," she said, her voice clear, steady, even a bit angry. Shame that, she should be doubting me. "It's just…" The alchemist leaned back in her chair, sighing, and looked down on her own two hands, still clad in skin-tight gloves. "...you insisted so much that I could do this, that I could fight better than any of those veteran adventuring mages from the guild… but I've barely had any fighting experience outside of training, and especially with that new spell you taught me. Is it… is it really enough?"
She looked up at me, her green eyes almost shining in the dim light of the room. She sounded vulnerable, weak, exposed. It took conscious effort to curb my enthusiasm to answer quickly, to make use of this weakness, and instead to think over what she was feeling and to structure my response and make it useful, rather than just 'pleasing' and 'helpful for getting into her good graces' as all of my social instincts demanded.
"That spell alone?" I questioned rhetorically, after a second, "No, but you, as a whole, won't lose, of this I am certain."
Hexe briefly looked annoyed before she gathered herself.
"I understand, and appreciate your faith," she said, and sounded relatively sincere, "But I would like to understand its source. Was it not you who said that a demon should always be faced with a full party of diverse specialists? And if it's just me and Berg, there is a chance we won't be fighting a single opponent! Against a creature who lived for over a century and dwarfs me with his mana and skill in combat magic… how do I win?"
I would have blinked to express my confusion if I could.
"I understand the concern about the difference in combat experience and skill in magic, and I will address this, but mana capacity? How is that relevant?" I questioned, feeling somewhat confused.
"Didn't… didn't you say demons judge each other's strength by how much mana they have?" Hexe asked, sounding unsure.
"Yes, as a rough estimate, because if you are a demon, it doesn't matter if you pursue what passes among my kind for warrior arts or specialize in more traditional magic; both studies still lead you to develop your mana capacity. The higher it is, the more effort and time you dedicate to your study, meaning, generally, the deadlier you are." Of course, a lot of it was conjecture on my part; I didn't truly live amongst demons, so I only relayed what made sense to me and what was logical and instinctively understood by myself. I was almost completely certain I was right, in any case, "But this is just that, an estimate. Hexe," I paused, considering how to phrase it, "Even if we are talking about modern human magic, about eighty percent of offensive combat spells I've seen are lethal, if they hit true. Human or demon body… makes no difference. The remaining twenty percent are usually lingering effects, area denial spells, or disabling spells," I paused, realizing I am rambling, "My point here is that it doesn't matter how powerful your mana is, if you are hit directly by an offensive spell, you will most often die. There are a few monstrous mages out there who can use their raw mana, much like warriors do, to deflect attacks or attack, and warriors themselves to an extent, but that's another matter." I paused, "Mana capacity does not decide battles, it is merely one of the characteristics of a mage, much like the stamina of a warrior. The spells you know, your combat awareness, your skill and precision at casting the spells you do know… are generally much more important than mere mana capacity." This was the complete truth as I saw it.
The reason why a mage like Serie or Frieren was terrifying had nothing to do with the amount of mana they had; their mana would only matter if you could turn a fight against them into a battle of endurance, and that… is simply impossible.
Of course, I've never met either of the elves, and sometimes pray that I never will, but I could imagine what a millennium of practice with combat magic would look like in terms of skill in weaving spells. It would mean that where I could cast a single offensive spell, they could cast three. Where I could raise one shield, they could weave three. It's not that their spells would be more powerful, though, I suspected, that would be the case too; it's just that even if the two of them were limited to my own arsenal of spells, they would still outperform and squash me.
It would never come down to a battle of attrition; I would simply be swept away like a stone by the landslide. At least, were I to fight alone.
The battle between mages is decided by precision and skill. Being able to cast the spell in half a second when your opponent takes three-quarters of a second with everything else being near equal, means you'll win in two or three exchanges at worst.
"You know, these analogies of yours aren't too reassuring," Hexe spoke up, sounding a touch amused, for some unfathomable reason, as she studied me with a faint glint in her eyes, "Stamina is pretty important for warriors, for men in general, one may say."
"Any analogy by definition would miss many nuances, pay attention to the core idea instead of focusing on the unimportant details," I disagreed, suppressing a flash of irritation at being called out on a mistake that wasn't one. "A mage with higher mana capacity can learn spells that will be more mana hungry, but… this would rarely matter. It's especially true for you."
Hexe slowly blinked before nodding, her face growing serious.
"The spell you taught me… it has the same upkeep no matter what substance I animate using it, I…" Hexe blinked, looking genuinely surprised for a moment, "I am the type of mage who will never lose the battle of endurance, am I not?" She sounded genuinely surprised, as if she'd only just discovered this, and then somewhat irritated.
I kept quiet for a moment, allowing her to process whatever revelation she was having.
"I explained to you why I wanted you to learn and practice with that spell before; it was the fact that it directly translates your expertise in alchemy to combat magic. Not fighting using combat magic, perhaps, but utilizing it, this saves you many years of practice with more conventional offensive and defensive spells by substituting them for your concoctions." I paused for a moment, "There is also the fact that I trained you, so I know you are better suited for a one-on-one fight than almost every other modern mage."
Hexe looked unsure what I meant here again.
This was… vexing to an extent. Was I this bad at conveying my intentions and reasoning? I've been explaining this in my lectures in combat classes… Ah, yes, she never attended those; our lessons were more private.
Thinking back, she never truly asked…
"I see." I voiced, mostly to myself, "I suppose you wouldn't know how most modern mages fight… tell me, Hexe, what do you think is the greatest weakness of a mage, and a priest for that matter, compared to hunters, warriors, and whatever other trained specialists?"
The woman frowned.
"Physical strength, I assume?" she tried, and wasn't wrong.
I nodded to that.
"Correct, in a way. It's not that a mage can't fight off a warrior in melee; this isn't even something worth mentioning, it's that a mage can't even run away… or dodge properly. The body lacks the strength for it." I could see the moment of realization appear in Hexe's eyes.
"Mobility…" she muttered.
"Yes," I confirmed, glad she was starting to understand, "It's an issue as old as human, or even elven magic for that matter. The lack of mobility kills mages. It's a clear weakness that can't be easily bypassed, as mobility spells are exceptionally rare or difficult to master, and as such, just never truly grew popular. Over time, this shaped a genuine paradigm that a mage is someone who shouldn't even attempt to dodge, and should instead invest in spells that would help him hold his ground better," I said, seeing Hexe taken aback even further, "The conventional way for mages to fight is to hide behind the backs of allies, either that, or to become skilled and powerful enough to layer shields upon shields, and utilize the lack of mobility to construct static, entrenched fortification around yourself."
"This… isn't how you taught in DAMN? Isn't how you taught me…" Hexe noted, her voice softening.
"Correct," I noted once more, "Because it's a suicidal foolishness to fight in such a way if you are alone. It works either for someone with a great party, each at least equal to you in skill, or for genuine monsters of magical skill and might, but for everyone else? It's a poor path to pursue." I paused for a moment, "There is also the factor that I myself am a demon. I am much faster and stronger than humans, and I can fly; I do not lack mobility. The way I fight is something that took shape around my hunt for monsters, a way to do it relatively safely, and to be able to protect myself as I fought alone." I continued after a brief pause, "However, even without my physical strength and speed, even without my flight spell, this is still a superior fighting style for mages to protect themselves when they are alone. True, such a mage would be weaker in a party of adventurers than someone traditionally trained, but unlike a more traditionally trained mage, someone I trained won't be instantly slaughtered by a monster who can survive their opening salvo." I explained to her, very briefly, the thing I've spent countless weeks agonizing over. I even asked Teuflisch for his opinion back then; the choice to train students to fight as I do was deliberate.
It emphasized independence.
"You always made me focus on dodging," Hexe noted, "Mobility in general, I suppose. Shields I can erect on the fly, being able to sprint and run, and dodge when possible…" she mused, probably connecting it all.
"It's also the reason why I have invested so much of my time into trying to reverse-engineer my flight spell. Once it's recorded and reproducible through human magic…" I trailed off, "Everything will change." And I did mean everything.
An accessible, easy-to-learn mobility spell of such power, a spell that lets a mage not only move in three dimensions, but also do this faster than some warriors can run, will flip magical combat on its head. I know this because I can see how mages fight now, and I've seen how they fought in the show; those were incomparable things, fundamentally different approaches to one's role in combat and utility.
Of course, it was hard to judge such things precisely. I highly doubted that the animations or drawings were to scale all the time and accurately conveyed nuances, but I could still see the general trend.
It will take a generation, maybe two, but once flight is introduced, the types of combat spells that are popular will also shift. And, inevitably, this will make demons adapt their magic in response.
After all, a demon judges how effective its magic is by how well it helps kill humans.
"This is why only you and Zaudern can possibly face a major demon - a demon over a century of age, like this. You, because you've been trained for this even if you never knew it, and him… because he would never fight using conventional magic anyway, and instead has his golems. Any other mage currently in the region will die in moments trying to fight a sufficiently strong demon alone." Not because of a lack of skil in magicl, but because, without a vanguard, a demon will literally tear them apart with their bare hands. After all, on average, a demon's magic by itself is already, at the very least, as strong as all spells of a well-trained human mage, but that demon also has physical superiority comparable to that of a warrior; the result is… expected.
Hexe, nevertheless, shivered.
"I suppose… I suppose there truly isn't anyone else who can… who can do this better than I," she said quietly to herself.
I thought about telling her that she could leave, run if she wished to, only to realize a moment later how insulting that would be. I thought about lying, telling her that everything would be alright, but this wasn't something I could say with any degree of certainty. The risk to her life was very real.
"It's difficult for me to try to reassure you, Hexe." Instead, I elected honesty, seeing the woman glance at my familiar in surprise, "Ultimately, I am a monster incapable of empathizing with a human heart. I can intellectually see you are distressed, that you are hurt, but I can't feel this with you, nor can I imagine words that will help me calm your heart without lies."
Hexe laughed softly at this.
"How many times have I told you that not all lies are so terrible? Some are the bare minimum, especially if speaking to a lady…" There was just a hint of usual teasing in her otherwise tired tone.
Yet, even I recognize that she wasn't doing as well as she usually did at the game of words.
"...what I am trying to say," I insisted, making the bird step across the table until it was close, "...is that I am terrible at this. I can't tell you 'just do this or that, and you will feel better' - because I never encountered what you are feeling now. I know fear, but once I make a decision, there is no anxiety, only the logical weight of whatever concerns I had weighed before deciding. If there is a threat I am still afraid, but fear itself is easy to overcome, it's all that comes with it that cripples a man. So I don't know how to ease this. That said," I paused, considering my words, "Hexe, I truly believe that you are a terrifying mage to face in battle. If I didn't know you, and merely stumbled across you with the need to kill you, say… three decades ago, there is a very real chance I would have died." I took explicit care to have the bird look into her eyes, "At that time, I would have been roughly at the level of the demons you are expected to face… stronger, realistically speaking."
The alchemist chuckled slowly.
"Well…" She sounded a bit awkward, "You are right, you aren't very good at this." That I wasn't. "But… I still appreciate the attempt… greatly. The fact that you care enough to try." The woman looked down at me, something gentle appearing in her expression, "I've… overheard some of your conversations with Zaudern. For an unfeeling creature incapable of loyalty and empathy, you sure did attempt to persuade him to leave a great many times."
"You've experienced the world as I do, through my own perception, multiple times," I reminded her simply, because it was something she forced me to do for her, "You know full well what passes for loyalty and affection in my heart."
To that, Hexe's smile only widened.
"That's just it, don't you see? The part that I like the most. The will in you to be gentle and kind, that overpowers even your merciless, monstrous heart." And it was those eyes that kept staring at me, "Albert, if I survive… I want to ask something of you. Can you… Promise me that?"
I was taken briefly aback.
"I… I suppose?" I was genuinely thrown for a loop as I tried to understand how her logic arrived at this conclusion: "As long as the request is sensible and within my power." Frankly, however, a request of this sort is something I would've fulfilled regardless of making a promise to do so.
For some reason, that took more tension out of Hexe's shoulders and made her smile a much more relaxed, confident one.
"I will keep you to your word!~" She suddenly stood up, "Okay, now I certainly do feel reassured and motivated plenty! I will finish a few last-minute recipes and then head back," she offered, smiling more confidently.
"I will keep watch outside," I proposed, "Try to be quick." Saying that, I commanded the familiar to fly through one of the open vents above.
At this point, I had long since given up trying to understand every nuance of what a person I spoke with meant, unless I thought it was important. People were complicated, and I could only ever really make sense of human behaviors I engaged with in my previous life… and even that was steadily becoming a little more difficult.
***
Now,
Albert,
Before ever constructing the plan for the fight, I operated on two assumptions. One: Aura has more mana than I do. Two: her spell works on monsters.
The second assumption was made after rewatching the messenger bird's memories a couple of times, and seeing how the monsters that Neugieri's group faced fought. That, and my own understanding of the subject, told me that a spell such as Aura's shouldn't have much trouble affecting different species, much like my Resonant Soul had none.
The first assumption, on the other hand, was an estimate, based on what I knew from the story, rather than my own knowledge. Aura is a demon whose spell depended heavily on the amount of mana she had; it would be foolish to assume that she didn't spend every single day doing exercises to increase it. I, however, didn't have such an incentive, and from what I understood, we shouldn't be too far apart in age.
In other words, even though I never had the opportunity to sense her mana, I was convinced that she had more.
Normally, not much of a problem against any other opponent. At the very least, I didn't believe our respective differences in raw power would have been substantial enough to influence the outcome of a fight.
Aura the Guillotine, however, was the opponent who could only be challenged with any degree of safety when your mana is higher. If Aura's obedience spell activates successfully on you, it's an instant loss scenario.
I've been thinking about this ever since I realized who the Sturmkamm is facing, but even accounting for my outsider information, there weren't many ways to fight Aura.
I remembered that Frieren had a spell that dispelled Aura's control over the dead bodies. Was it the spell that merely destroyed the necromantic templates Aura sustained on her dead? An actual counter-spell Frieren developed for Aura's own demonic magic, specifically? Some abomination from a mythical era that 'erased spells because it simply did'?
In truth, I didn't know, but I also knew that such a spell wasn't known to me, nor to anyone else in the Valley. Nor have I ever even seen a spell with such a description being mentioned anywhere, in any of the texts I've seen and studied. Dispelling magic existed; its application was wide, but I've yet to find one that reached all the way to the soul, rather than worked with enchantments.
Meaning Aura's spell couldn't be dispelled by any mage present.
I also suspected that one of the spells amongst the Goddess Magic could work, and despite my distaste for those constructs, I wouldn't be foolish enough to ignore the utility… if there was any in this instance. The issue is that a Goddess Magic is still fundamentally magic, not genuine miracles, and most of those 'holy' spells relied on brute force to overcome curses and other esoteric effects, wrestling with the mana of a monster. And no priest present in the region had the skill or the mana to contend against a Greater Demon, even a relatively young one, I could tell that much at a glance.
And that concluded the potential ways to break the hold of Aura's spells that I could imagine. I remembered that the spell could supposedly be broken temporarily by someone with sufficient willpower, but… what even is sufficient willpower? How can one quantify such a thing?
My willpower may be sufficient; it may not be. In any case, this wasn't something I had any right to rely on.
The combination of all those factors meant that if I were to show my face in front of Aura, and she were to instantly use her spell, I would lose.
But… would she do such a thing? Without knowing my mana levels for certain? Would she be willing to bet her life on a coin flip? Of course not, she is a puppeteer who stays on the backline by nature, she's spent her centuries designing, tweaking, and modifying her spell to fit her perfectly, and the end result is magic tailored to subjugate and prey on the weak, a creature such as her could only be a coward.
Aura wasn't willing to bet without assurance, even against Frieren, centuries from now, when she was convinced that the elf was that much weaker. Instead, she did her best to exhaust the elf's already 'lacking' mana, weaken her even beyond the threshold where her spell was already guaranteed to work, as far as she was concerned, and only then struck.
This is the Aura I relied on. The only Aura I could beat.
There were other factors for me to consider and make use of.
I could never gauge Aura's mana; I simply didn't have the opportunity to approach her closely enough. Similarly, she couldn't have possibly gauged mine. Readings from others' memories and constructs is simply no good. Those sensations of mana levels are subjective, after all; every mage can only compare someone else's mana to their own, and roughly at that. Even if she questioned Neugieri and Standhaft, all she would know is that I am 'strong', and 'somewhere around as strong as her'. I, on my end, also couldn't glean how much mana Aura truly had from Zis' memory. Zis merely knew it was 'around as much as me when I didn't hold back', but making an accurate judgment was pretty much impossible, even for me, who had access to her memory. It was like standing in the valley, looking up at two mountains the peaks of which you can't see and guessing which one was higher.
Still, we must be close enough.
The difference here was that, unlike Aura, who was clueless, I knew of her. I knew her spell, I even possessed insights into her character in a way I couldn't have naturally, and she… she only knew what Hanseln, Neugieri, and maybe Standhaft knew - and this was worse than knowing nothing.
At least, if I played this right.
And so, when the battle in the city started in earnest, I stood up on the mountain slope from a small cove I had made for myself.
A spell was woven in an instant, and I flew.
A mountain was in front of me, and a normal flight wouldn't have been sufficient to take me over the peak, mostly because the powerful winds could make flight dangerous, given how fragile flight magic is, but…
"Zis, awaken," I called gently, coaxing the djinn with my mana, and feeling the playful creature stir in the ring.
It couldn't breathe, it had no body, all I saw was its mana, and yet, by how it fluttered, I knew this was how it yawned, before focusing its attentions on the threads of mana I conjured in a shape.
"Whiiiiiiiii~!" A playful whistle, not actual voice or syllables, just the wind itself, and suddenly, my robes stopped flapping in the wind, and the air currents ceased striking against me; instead, I felt as if an invisible hand had been lifting me and hurrying me along.
Sturmkamm Peak, a mountain unconquered by any man, elf, or dwarf… was easy to fly over, and I beheld the city beneath, and unfolded my mana senses properly.
I felt it all. The city, the fights… and Aura. I accelerated rapidly, concealing my mana as much as I could, passing over the inner city, then outer city, until I floated exactly where I meant to. Directly above my target.
I cut my spell and released the mana threads, which served as a gesture for Zis to cut its magic too.
And so, I fell.
There were only three beneath me. Two demons and Neugieri. None of them concealed their mana. All three noticed me, though, I suspected, it was due to Aura, who might have alerted the other two.
I suspected her to have a relatively well attuned mana sense. She had to for her spell to be used safely. Naturally, she could sense me when I was using magic, if I could sense her.
"Thunder, tree, five to eight," I muttered, recalling the lines from a grimoire that I hadn't properly cracked open in over forty years, even as sparks of purple lightning ignited between my palms, as I kept falling. Naturally, due to the wind, I couldn't even hear myself. "Converge and root, link, set…" I paused, "Twist."
Chanting wasn't uncommon for rituals, where remembering what templates to layer in what sequence and how they even looked was oftentimes difficult. This was a crutch, however, for those who didn't use a particular spell often enough. A memory exercise, keying specific words in your memory to a template, either with sheer memorization, or, like me, with minor self-hypnosis magic. All to be able to cast an incredibly complex, multi-layered spell from the first attempt without memorizing all of it by heart.
I was not casting a ritual, of course, but the same was true for magic that was tracing its origins to the mythical era.
Like the one I was about to unleash.
The charge around me wasn't merely gathering between my palms; as I fell, arcs of what looked like electricity started to spark some distance away from me, and as I kept falling, those static lightning bolts were dragged after me. More and more lightning gathered until I must have looked like a meteor surrounded by purple plasma, falling towards the ground.
I felt it, the instant when the demon by Aura's side prepared to unleash the spell… it was just like Zis remembered. It truly did take him less than a second to release.
I cared little.
"Judradjim." The lightning was unleashed in a fraction of a second, and the attacks must have collided.
I cared little, as I once again engaged flight magic, instantly breaking my fall, and flying back and aside, doing an arc just before I hit the ground, and planting my boots into the soil, sliding across it and the snow.
Even after I landed, the unnatural purple lightning kept raining on where Aura, Neugieri, and the Demon General stood.
After a moment, it was done, but a cloud of dust had been stirred up.
Aura's choice of ground was… obvious, in hindsight.
The Sturmkamm Valley was a broad, uneven bowl; it sank toward the middle while the mountains along its rim climbed into high ground of their own. The shape of it pulled at something from my old life… the Alps, perhaps, or somewhere near them, though the memory came up vague by now, and nothing I could recall from Earth and ever visited had ever been near this size.
The city sat near the mouth of the valley, by one of the passes, raised a little above the lower reaches, and Aura had simply gone further along that same side and settled atop a rise. The city itself was off to my right. Over a kilometer away, maybe two. From that distance, the fighting outside its walls reached me as little more than the odd flicker of light that I caught in my peripheral, a mage or a priest loosing a spell, too far for any of the sound to follow.
Reassuring, I had wanted this much empty ground between myself and the city; it kept friendly fire from being too much of a concern.
I summoned my staff into my hand. Now that I wasn't masquerading as a human, it wasn't needed, and yet, I grew used to casting human magic using it as a foci; I was better with the staff than I had been without.
Around me, there was only wind and snow. It came down off the heights in a steady rush, pulling at my robes and dragging away the last of the dust my spell had stirred up, the burnt smell of it, the smell of ozone, still hanging in the air.
"Well now." A burst of mana, barely shaped into a spell, and the dust is swept aside, revealing the duo of unharmed demons and their hostage, an even circle of molten ground all around them. "This is unexpected. Neugieri, he is…?"
The mental mage whom Aura addressed stared at me in horror and disbelief, which switched to revulsion and back. She looked pale, sick, and horrified beyond belief. This wasn't surprising, as she saw me with my horns.
As expected, she immediately understood what that meant. As expected, she despaired.
I didn't spare her a glance.
"No… no-no-no, how COULD YOU! ALBER-!" She took a step forward, before suddenly stopping speaking, doubling over and falling on her knees, a thick metal collar burning bright with purple symbols I couldn't recognize around her neck.
"Really? This much was enough to interfere with Auserlese?" The pink-haired demon sounded as if she was in disbelief and somehow offended, her eyes actually focused on a human, before she sighed, tiredly. "I see, so the key must be despair, then?" she wondered, before shooting her glance towards me, "I suppose it's only natural for her to lose hope. If you are Albert the Hermit… then no one in this Valley should have had any to begin with."
She then glanced at me and smiled. It was a well-constructed, confident, cocky smirk, even if it looked a bit absent.
"This is incredibly awkward, don't you agree? I've come here to prove my worth to His Majesty and take the head of an elf, and instead find a demon who managed to infiltrate that deeply... This is all sorts of annoying, for both of us, I imagine," she explained.
I merely lifted an eyebrow, though, allowing my face to have a neutral, carefully chosen expression.
"I wasn't aware a hunt of the elves was still ongoing." Mentally, however, I noted that Aura's appearance here was my fault, and my fault alone, after all.
"The orders weren't technically ever canceled. It's just that there aren't exactly known spots where they live and can be targeted anymore," Aura said, shrugging, "That said, before we continue exchanging pleasantries, there is an explanation you owe me. About this, for instance." She gestured towards the molten ground around her and her lapdog, "As well as about the mana you dare conceal even as you attacked me." And here, she allowed the easygoing expression to drop from her face.
This was it. Victory is mine.
"You noticed? Impressive, you are quite sensitive," I congratulated, giving her an earnest, kind smile, and releasing most of my mana. "I believed I got rid of any fluctuations by this point. For you to notice them… you must be proud," I said, making myself sound sincere.
The odd expression on Aura's face as she took me in was what I expected.
"You… have quite the nerve," she said, her smile turning wide. After all, she should be able to feel fluctuations in my mana even now.
I am demonstrating that I am almost as strong as her, while still showing that I hold something back. Am I holding back enough for her spell to rebound? Am I somehow bluffing?
She can't know, as she doesn't even know how much I know about her and her magic. But she does know that I am stepping all over a typical taboo for our kind.
This must introduce more confusion, more doubt.
Make it less likely for her to try her spell, yet.
"I am quite nettled," I say, dropping my smile, the friendly expression, anything at all, letting my expression and tone go completely dead in an instant, "After all, you came into my territory, managed to alert every human in the region, and completely wasted all of my efforts. I am afraid I am quite committed to killing the three of you now. This is the only way for me to salvage any of this." I lied, allowing my mana to boil slightly.
"Seriously?" Aura questioned, raising an eyebrow, as she gestured around, "I don't really understand what you were planning to do here, but… can you even imagine yourself winning against both Schrägstrich and me?" she asked, sounding annoyed, "You are clearly powerful so I would rather avoid a fight, and ever since your initial attack failed, and since we are talking, you clearly don't mind coming to some sort of agreement, do you not?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a towering demon covered in slightly shifting hands, who stepped forth.
"Lady Aura, I beg your pardon, but I believe I know what is going on here," Schrägstrich said. It was impossible to see where his eyes were looking; the fingers of the palms cupping his face concealed his eyes, but I was certain his attention was on me, "Albert… I've heard this name before, and now I think I remember."
The demon tilted his head.
"About a century ago, not far from the city of Waal, which isn't too far from the region, a friend of mine had encountered the most despicable foe," the demon explained softly, his voice pleasant and feminine despite his grotesque but recognizably muscular shape.
Outwardly, I did not react immediately; inwardly, I started to re-evaluate what could be known to him.
"A demon, yet one who fought with human magic, attacked without being provoked… all because his curse allowed that demon to steal the magic of others. Albert, named Accursed by Helldunkel," Schrägstrich finished, a sword ignited in one of the two hands it had not peeled to its body, as it pointed it towards me. "You are that Albert, are you not?"
This was the last thing I could've possibly expected: a demon I miraculously managed to win a pyrrhic victory against had passed the information on, and it made its way… precisely to my enemy today.
What an infuriating coincidence.
The Lord works in mysterious ways.
"A century ago?" Aura questioned, her eyes focused on me, "Back when you served Asveld then?"
The Demon General, one of those demonkind called 'warriors,' chuckled. He was clearly that rather than a mage. For a moment, I glimpsed the ruby-red, delicate lips of his beneath one of the more wrinkly palms.
"Indeed, my lady, from the time before I decided to stake my loyalty to you." The demon lowered its sword. "I understand it, you, Albert, have created a magical Academy to harvest the spells of humans endlessly, did you not? What do they call it… a farm? You are merely upset that we destroyed what you assumed to be the perfect grounds for developing your magic. And now, you want our spells to compensate, you don't in truth care about victory, you just wish to harvest our spells and escape, do you not?" the demon accused, pride in its voice, it clearly was happy with its conclusions.
I made use of it in an instant, 'accidentally' allowing a frown to mar my face.
"Troublesome. I made sure not to leave any survivors since that friend of yours, and yet, somehow, this information spread." I briefly, just for a moment, conjured a blade of shadows at the tip of my fingers, barely forming the spell, outlining it for long enough to show it off.
"I see, so you were the one who tracked him down and killed him, after all," Schrägstrich said slowly. I, again, didn't show my surprise, but… that demon died? "I will kill you in revenge, of course. Helldunkel would have done the same for me."
"Bold of you to speak through that leash on your soul," I said simply, tilting my head to the side, "Don't you think a dog shouldn't bark without the master's approval?"
Neither Aura, nor Schrägstrich, nor paralyzed Neugieri reacted to the insult, which was expected, as demons were good at lies and deceit, and Neugieri likely could only breathe with all the restricting orders Aura must have layered on her.
"This one isn't someone with whom agreement can be reached," Aura finally said, stepping back, "His bloodlust has never lessened since we first exchanged words. Schrägstrich…"
The swordsman demon exploded into motion, rushing towards me, winding back his strike…
I merely looked him in the eyes.
One instant, and he is almost on top of me, his sword prepared to lower and cut me in two. In the next instant, he is throwing himself to the left with flight magic. An instant after that, the world directly in front of me is flames.
A smile I never noticed briefly cracked my lips.
"Good instincts," I praised, making sure to make my mana sway, as a mage would, when a spell is cast. I even directed a sufficient amount of energy into my staff, that I held with the same hand on which Carbuncle's ring rested, to conceal his building up mana, that, and my own mana reserves… concealed his existence sufficiently, "Yet..."
I wave with my other hand, but this is a distraction. Mana strings, tiny, almost invisible, and completely unnoticeable next to my staff, briefly flashed next to the ring atop my finger in a different pattern, wordlessly giving my djinn a command.
This time, it was a shield of liquid, viscous flame that caught a mana-sword that terribly reminded me of an unstable lightsaber, making the blade first get stuck in the slime-like fire, and then burn up in it.
The moment his attack was neutralized, the wall of flame exploded towards Schrägstrich like a shaped charge, yet the swordsman was good. He swung a blade conjured in a blink with the other hand, while pouring mana into it and destabilizing it, producing the same devastating shockwave he did against Standhaft… and likely the same one with which he defended from the lightning.
I, however, didn't stand idle, and instead once again called out to Carbuncle, and a genuine spear of blue and purple flames, solid in their consistency, shot out and towards Aura with a boom of displaced air.
Neugieri took a step in front of her, and a modified Goldene Grenze - more commonly known as Saphir Grenze since Lisch convinced me to give a name to the modification - rose between Neugieri and me, jamming the attack between the first and second layer of the spell, before causing it to fly to the side and detonate.
Schrägstrich tried to use my 'distraction' to attack me from behind, but a pair of Kraftstoß spheres hit him in the stomach… It's too bad I could feel him doing something with that spell of his to shield himself in the last second.
And then, it was me who had to dodge, throwing myself left at inhuman speed, as the ground where I just stood… was cut, vertically, in half, and the stone exploded from the impact, throwing me aside, as I slid across snow and stone.
Absurd.
This trick, which I just used, would have killed Berg. It was a perfectly prepared ambush, a believable opening, and a spell readied in advance, deployed in the demon's blind zone… yet, he reacted in the split second to the counterattack and defended… unleashing his own counterattack when I briefly let my own guard down.
This Schrägstrich… was incredibly good. Were I to face him without my djinns, I would probably lose.
I felt it then, in that brief moment of a pause, as everyone took in each other's capabilities. Excitement. I was excited. My body didn't shake from anxiety, I didn't feel giddy, it was a different sort of excitement than the one I felt as a human and sometimes indulged in during the night with Resonant Soul, this was, this was…
This felt right.
"Aura," I addressed the demon, the moment I finally stopped sliding, as I stood up to my full height, dusting off my cloak, and striking my staff against the stone, "If you want to win this… You should probably bring over your army of puppets. This one," I glanced back at Schrägstrich, who'd been thrown back a few dozen meters, and currently seems to be inspecting its many hands and fingers, "Won't win this for you."
This was, of course, a bluff. Demons had hierarchy, and as such, they had traits and behaviors they expected from those who stood higher up. Their hierarchy was based on strength; hence, as long as you present yourself as someone higher up in the hierarchy, you present yourself as someone stronger.
And I could tell this was working. If Helldunkel truly did tell this Schrägstrich about me in some way, he should have mentioned that I lied, and lied, and lied against him… and yet, demons were so gullible that as long as you know how to push and where to apply leverage, they will fall for it.
Because to them, a demon lecturing them and posturing was only natural if he was as strong as I am.
"You are a Greater Demon after all, if you can use someone's fire magic to this degree. This isn't too inferior to Asveld's own fire magic, is it? In fact, didn't she die fighting in the outer reaches of Northern Plateau after you left, Schrägstrich?" Aura asked, her voice cold, lacking any casualness from before.
"That is what I've heard," Schrägstrich said, ten of his arms unfolding from his body, one on the hip, one from the chest, three from the back, one from his other arm, two from the neck, and the rest I couldn't see through his clothing, "This fire magic… it feels a little different, but it can be explained by a lesser mage operating it."
I… had no idea who they were referring to, or what they were talking about, and I didn't have enough information just yet to use this.
Yet I could see what they were both starting to assume.
"It's one of the best spells I've acquired," I offered to the Demon General, "Unlike that garbage shadow magic, this one is actually worth using," I said, smiling at him pleasantly.
Aura was the true target. Killing her is my win condition. Unfortunately, between a demon as physically strong and fast as a top-notch warrior and Neugieri with her shields, were I to focus on that, I would die from a blade. Other than that, until Aura used her Auserlese, she was a non-factor, even if she knew any combat spells; I doubted they were anything I wouldn't feel coming and adapt.
Neugieri could never match me blow for blow; at best, she may be able to catch me in an illusion of hers if our eyes met. Other than that, she was only decent with her fireballs and the shield. This was more than enough for her to be able to shield Aura and, perhaps, take shots of opportunity towards me, but there was that. She was an additional body between Aura and me, a body Aura was convinced I would shoot through if I could, and that conviction was essential for me to win.
The true threat is Schrägstrich. Faster than me, stronger than me, with a convenient, fast-to-cast, powerful, and devastating spell that gave him range and penetrating power, he was a legitimate threat. The moment he dies, Aura is mine. In the previous exchange, I held Zis's power close; she was on standby to erect any last-moment defences, and with how quick and powerful Schrägstrich was, I still needed that safety net.
If he gets one good strike on me, it would limit me until the end of the fight, and the loss of blood will have to be compensated by regeneration, which is a mana hog, and may cause Aura to become brave enough to cast her Auserlese. Besides, using both Zis and Carbuncle would look like I am going all out and wasting a lot of mana, which may also cause Aura to cast her spell, which will also be my loss.
Meaning, I had to defeat Schrägstrich using only Carbuncle, and without ordering him to do anything too flashy.
…all of that was analyzed, understood, accepted, and implemented with barely any conscious thought, on a level of rash associations and instinct.
"I wonder if yours would be worth using?" I struck my staff against the ground, and made the earth crack and explode, the fissure shooting towards the sword demon like an arrow, and various boulders and stones rising between him and me.
The demon exploded into motion, ten arms moving in directions and angles I was struggling to comprehend. I realized it then, this demon wasn't constrained by elbow joints, and the length of his limbs was almost impossible to predict until they were truly in motion.
I had trouble seeing how many strikes there were, perhaps twenty, maybe forty, but the demon turned the boulders that obstructed his way into diced stone.
Only to barely fly to the side, as a lance of flames greeted him on his way. Ten arms spread all around him, all simultaneously converged on the spear, each holding a sword of pure energy, even as the demon threw itself upwards.
Thunderous explosion of purple and blue flames, and a demon leaving the blast area almost unharmed.
It was as I thought, he was incredibly skilled in using those energy-slashes of his to divert the energy of the attacks from the others.
I've felt Neugieri's firebolt, shot at me from behind, and simply flew up, evading it, and forcing Schrägstrich to follow.
"You are fast on your two feet," I threw at him, as I gestured with my mana, and tendrils of flames shot from me towards the demon, "But do you think you can fly faster than me?" I questioned, flying up, and feeling him follow.
In response, I had to project a pair of Saphir Grenze to stop the slashes of mana for long enough to dodge right, then dodge left, before I had to break my flight south of my original direction, again, shooting a wave of flame towards Schrägstrich and forcing him away.
"I don't need to fly faster than you," the demon said easily, never ceasing to swing his swords, as I never ceased ordering Carbuncle to conjure flaming attacks and sending them towards him, "All my eyes see, my swords can cut."
I, on my end, kept dodging the sword slashes, raising shields here and there to deflect or slow down his attacks, or defend from Neugieri, who was shooting at me from the ground with impunity.
I already realized this, of course. This demon's sword slashes were, fundamentally, the same type of spell as Zoltraak. Piercing, lightning-fast spells.
I had no doubt they were likely worse compared to the masterpiece conjured by the Sage of Destruction, and yet, I still had no shield capable of withstanding the continuous assault of those spells… and that alone meant I had to fly and dodge, rather than just fly away.
Besides, trying to make him work to get into point-blank distance was a ruse from the very start. Both Zis and Carbuncle have much greater control of their power up close, within two meters of me, he may die instantly.
But he must have suspected something like this, as he was in no hurry to shorten the distance.
It was the first time in a while that I was fighting someone cautious, skilled, and capable of thinking during the battle.
I felt alive.
"Let's see if your swords can cut my flame," I said, conjuring a dozen ice needles, each the size of a donkey, without a word or a gesture, and sending them at Aura.
By how Neugieri's mana flashed, I could tell she managed to defend.
That still bought me enough breathing room.
The strings of mana around the ring of Carbuncle twisted and turned into a knot, and, above my left palm, a ball of bright crimson fire, red as blood, ignited and started to slowly twist within itself.
Instantly, Schrägstrich's mana exploded, as he swung his blade at me.
I ordered Carbuncle to release the flames.
Our attacks didn't collide, nor did they cancel each other out; such interactions were, in all honesty, rare. Instead, our spells merely passed through each other.
Wind exploded in front of me, smelling like meadows and summer, and it felt like something invisible crashed against the crescent blade of light, sending it to the side, and into the sky.
The same couldn't be said about the crimson flame, which Schrägstrich wasn't able to easily stop, so he dove down… the flames followed.
I was about to cut the demon's escape short when…
"Caw!" I blink, dumbfoundedly, when a flock of birds I dismissed earlier suddenly is mere meters away, and seems determined to ram me at their top speed.
I pointed my palm towards them.
"Donnerschlag." A sound of thunder, and all the incoming ravens suddenly faltered, some falling, others, perhaps, snapping out of whatever delusion Neugieri conjured on them.
Yet, this distraction was enough.
I felt it then. A sizable reservoir of mana is approaching. Something powerful.
Schrägstrich, however, seemed to finally be able to conjure a wave of mana wide enough from his blade to force the crimson flame to detonate against, and was shortening the distance.
Instead of trying to face him in the air, I allow my body to drop down.
Whatever this was that was approaching was likely Aura's contingency of some sort. I expected something like this, seeing that she didn't pull any of the soldiers from the city.
And yet, it still meant that I had little time. If I don't kill Schrägstrich now, I am less likely to kill him later. On the ground, I have less space to dodge, but I have earth, and plenty of spells to work it. Burning my own mana wasn't a good idea, but I had little choice.
"It's pointless to run!" Aura shouts, "Don't you see this whole fight serves no one?"
This was likely her trying to stall for time, and, in the same manner, a genuine attempt to force me back to negotiations.
Annoying.
I struck the ground, forcefully shoving my hand into stone, and releasing a spell into the ground like a bullet.
Twenty spikes of compressed earth shot towards Schrägstrich, who followed me, over a hundred exploded from the ground, pointing upwards, like teeth of some monster, bared towards a foe.
Schrägstrich flew into the mouth of the beast without hesitation, twenty hands in constant motion, never in the way of each other. Inhuman skill, impossible, peerless coordination, and yet…
"Die," I said, through a grin, a flame coalescing around my fist like a flower, a fist that was pointed upwards, towards the descending demon.
Schrägstrich didn't react in time. Couldn't.
Carbuncle wasn't terrifying because the djinn could control flame. There are spells, at least four different variations, that allow the caster to control flames in their vicinity. The same was true for any other 'element'. Being able to make a river part, ice to appear at will, flame to follow your command, earth to rise as you wish… all of those are the ideas humans have had since they first became humans.
Such spells were also created in countless variations.
Generally, they weren't that powerful. A generalized spell that allowed one to 'control earth' would never be as mana-efficient, fast, and strong as a dedicated spell to create an earthen spike shot towards your enemy. Not to say that those spells weren't used; they had their niche, but in combat, they were a relatively rare choice for a reason.
Carbuncle magic wasn't a spell that allowed it to control flames. His magic and instinctive understanding of fire, the same fire that it perceived as its own body, allowed it to shape fire.
His flames could be liquid, could be solid, could be gas, could be plasma, they could be cold and hot, they could part from wind or be heavy and durable enough to withstand strikes…
In other words, Carbuncle, with its limited mind, on instincts and predisposition alone… could force such flames into existence that could never appear in the natural world.
And so, the flaming flower that exploded turned into shrapnel of paper-thin 'plates' of solid, aquamarine colour, that shredded his arms and body.
Because Schrägstrich did not expect flames like this, which cut, instead of burning. And because a mage is usually limited by how fast he can weave a new spell after the previous one… this one was created mere moments after the earth spikes.
I saw him, the many-armed demon, with many of its limbs cut off, with his flight spell momentarily dispelling, as he started to fall with no control, just twenty or so meters above me.
He was mine.
And then, instead of using the opportunity, I had to command Carbuncle to erect a wall of flames and raise four erdshields.
"RRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrragh!" A roar was what I've heard after the wave of flames that covered my position dropped… and so did my mood.
Standing above a very smug-looking Aura was a dragon.
It wasn't a core-bearing monster. Some dragons were, some dragons weren't, this one wasn't a 'monster' in the definition I was used to; rather, this was a beast.
I've encountered dragons before; most of the time, I avoided them. A flying tank with innate resistance to magic isn't a fun creature to fight unless you have no other choice, and so far, each of my encounters with one wasn't life or death.
Yet, this beast in front of me dwarfed them all, both in the mana I sensed from it and in its size and admittedly imposing looks.
The main reason for that was that it stood about as tall as a six-story building.
In the dark, the first thing I could make out was that it was black all over, and that it shone. Not the dull shine of wet scales, but the hard, glassy shine of obsidian, or, at least, I thought it was, this stone was the first association to fire in my mind.
The fires still burning across the battlefield caught on it, and the surface threw the light back in sharp little points of orange that sat on it and slid around as it breathed.
The scales of the beast weren't smooth, though. Where another dragon would have clearly defined scales, this one looked like it dipped into molten obsidian and allowed it to crystallize all over its body, and then spent years breaking, snapping, and otherwise damaging it.
Its whole body was covered in jagged spikes and broken edges of that same black glass, every plate ending in a point or a chipped ridge, no two the same size, packed so close together that the whole creature looked like it had been built out of blades.
Even from this far, I had no doubt that touching it would cut. At the thinnest edges, the firelight didn't sit on the surface; it sank a little way into the glass and glowed a dull red inside it, the way a thin sliver of obsidian does when you hold it up to a flame. Which I, to my chagrin, knew from my limited alchemical experience.
The dragon wasn't lit from within. That was only the battlefield's fire, shining through its edges, and making it, and the cracks within its 'scales', look almost as if it was light from inside out.
There were also its limbs.
Four legs, like on a classical western dragon, as it was understood on Earth, each with three imposing claws, made of bone for a change.
This detail was mostly lost on me because its wings were enormous. The span of them alone was wider than anything else on the field, and unlike a lot of the dragons I remembered from drawings and my own encounters, the wings on this one actually looked like they could lift it. The joints were thick and heavily muscled, the bone behind the membrane solid enough that I believed it could haul all that weight of stone and glass off the ground. The membranes were the same black, stretched tight, closer to sheets of dark glass than to skin, and the firelight ran along them in faint lines and bled red through their edges, the same as the rest of it.
Its head was the ugliest part of it. The jaw was huge and blocky, plated over in the same armor, and it looked built for crushing things rather than biting them. Above it sat two eyes, small, beady, and red, almost comically small for a skull that size, and they were pointed straight down at the battlefield. The mouth was still open from the roar, and I could see two rows of teeth, one set behind the other, the same jagged black as the rest of it. The tongue was long, lined down both sides with backward-facing barbs, like the inside of a goose's beak. Further back, deep in the throat, there was a dim orange glow, and a thin trail of steam still rising, left over from the fire it had just breathed.
All in all, this was, without a doubt, the edgiest dragon I've ever had the displeasure of seeing.
Which was to be expected…
"Obsidian dragon, those beasts native to the Southern Lands, vicious and powerful even by the standards of dragons," I commented, stepping up and onto the still-cracking hot orange stone, and meeting Aura's eyes, "They were believed to be extinct. How did you even find an obsidian dragon?"
I was, for the most part, buying time. Unfortunately, Zis was young. I started her combat training some time ago, but she still had trouble understanding some commands, and so, right now, for instance, I've wordlessly cast on her my Greater Resonant Soul so she could understand what I wished from her.
About five seconds it would take the creature to live through my memory, and this was the time I was buying.
"His Majesty's confidant actually pointed me towards it," Aura said, her pose and very being radiating something smug, as she tapped the leg of the beast next to her with a finger, "He said it would guarantee my survival in my hunt." Aura chuckled, "I think I understand now, you truly are the sort of heretic who even someone like him would want gone, hmm?"
Immediately, any semblance of ardor died in me an ugly death.
Schlacht. Schlacht was involved in this after all.
I think I fucking hate clairvoyants.
Yet, even for a moment, there was no hesitation, nor despair, even if this dragon was given to Aura to guarantee her victory… I would have to win nonetheless.
I could feel it then, a pulse of Zis's mana, and a gentle squeeze of the wind.
"It is unfortunate," I said, tilting my head to the side, "That now you will have to find out why even Schlacht the Omniscient wouldn't be willing to face me."
As always, I weaved a shape from the strings of my mana, like painting a small drawing, the one Zis would recognize.
She did, and I matched the explosion of my mana to conceal hers, as the wind started to pick up and grow.
The dragon growled, but I slammed my staff into the ground, and the solid stone under its paws turned to sand, before, after a command to Carbuncle, waves of viscous pink flame rolled over its legs. Aura grabbed Neugieri and flew back, as expected, but that didn't matter, as the flame started to 'cool' and solidify into red-ish, durable, yet still flickering solid substance, that still looked like flame.
The dragon roared, and I saw it then, its 'scales' exploding like shrapnel and shooting towards me, only to collide with an energy barrier I hastily erected. It flapped its wings trying to fly up… yet, there was not much air for it to lift.
Slowly, the air started to whistle and circle it, and I flew back.
A wing is a simple thing when you get down to it. It works by shoving against the air, and the air shoves back, and that is the whole of flight for a creature with no magic to lift it. So Zis didn't bother fighting the dragon's strength. She took the air out from under it instead. The currents around the beast went thin and slack and began to move with its wings rather than against them, and for all the power packed into those joints, there was suddenly nothing there to push on. It beat its wings once, hard, and stayed exactly where it was, legs still sunk in the cooled flame.
Then the wind began to turn.
It started as a slow, wide circle of snow drifting around the dragon, lazy enough that I could have walked its rim. Zis drew it in. The circle tightened and picked up speed, the loose snow in it stopped drifting and started to fly, and the turn became a spin, and the spin found a throat. A low note came up out of the valley floor, low enough that I felt it in my chest and the soles of my boots before I properly heard it.
The column climbed, rising off the ground and widening as it went, and the note rose with it until it was a roar, and then past a roar into something I have no clean word for.
A tornado was taking shape.
On Earth, people reached for freight trains and jet engines to describe these things. Seeing it with my own two eyes, they weren't wrong, but they were being generous.
This was a single unbroken roar that came from every direction at once, loud enough that it pressed the air flat against my ears and turned the whole rest of the battlefield silent inside it. Other sounds came through it, sharp ones, cracks, and deep hollow booms each time the thing tore another mouthful out of the slope.
For the first few seconds, it was pale, almost beautiful, a tower of spinning white where the snow caught what little light there was.
That didn't last.
The base of it bit down into the ground and started to eat, and the snow was nothing next to what came up after, dirt and broken rock and whole slabs of the molten stone, along with the dragon's own shed scales, black glass flung up and spun through everything else. The white turned grey, and the grey turned black, a dense, churning black, lit from inside by the orange of caught embers and the dull glint of all that turning glass. The snow kept falling into it and made no difference at all.
By then, it was wider at the base than it stood tall, and it had stopped looking like a funnel; it was a wall of black, turning, and it climbed up past the shoulder of the mountain and into the dark above the peak, where I lost the top of it entirely. A dragon the height of a six-story building stood somewhere inside that, and against the size of the thing, it might as well have been a sparrow.
I felt the pull of it where I stood. It came across the open ground in one long steady drag, hard enough that I had to set my weight back against the staff and let what strength I have hold the line, and I am neither human nor light. Anything that left the ground inside that reach wouldn't be coming back down on its own terms. A man would have been lifted off his feet and carried in without a sound to mark it, and anything fool enough to fly alongside it would simply be eaten and chewed out.
The dragon worked this out too late to matter. I caught it in pieces through the wall, a dark mass heaving against the flame at its legs, wings dragging at air that had been taken out from under them, the whole beast wrenching and twisting to tear itself free. The flame held. It had set into the slope like a root, still flickering red where it gripped, and for all its size, the dragon could neither break it nor lift against the wind.
Then, I gave Carbuncle the command.
And the solidified stone-like fire in which the dragon was stuck turned into the flame proper, and the vortex of wind ignited into the vortex of fire with an even odder roar, turning night into day.
Separated from Aura and Neugieri, I turned towards the wounded sword-wielding demon, who paused his approach to look at what my djinn had created.
Standing on the slope, both of us simply looked.
It was beautiful.