The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 389

Chapter 389

Chapter 387: Long-Worn Shackles

ARTHUR LEYWIN

The violet markings of Realmheart burned hot against my skin as I focused on the godrune. Now that I could once again see and sense mana, I felt connected to the physical space around me in a way I hadn’t since waking in the Relictombs.

The smell of sweat and ozone, the sight of mana particles rolling and tumbling out of Mica’s core, the sound of Bairon’s heavy breathing, and even the weight of my own body pushing down on the ground beneath me all wove into one intertwined tapestry of sensation.

I focused on the mana along Mica’s arms as it rushed into the huge hammer she swung with both hands. The hammer thickened and hardened, swelling to become even more unnaturally large. The sound of thunder crashed and rolled through the cavern, and the hammer shattered, exploding into a million knife-like shards.

Mica rolled under a lightning spear as the stone shards all shivered to a stop in midair, turned, and hurtled back at her target. Crackling static shivered through the air, and the stones became magnetized, snapping to each other and veering off course. The few that managed to reach Bairon burst against his mana barrier.

Next to me, behind a layer of transparent ice that protected us from any stray spells, Varay shifted. Her eyes were half-closed as she focused more on sensing the two sparring Lances’ cores and the strength of their mana manipulation than the physical aspects of their fight. “Their cores both feel strong. Nearly replenished.”

I bit my tongue. It is true that they’ve nearly returned to their full strength, but...

‘Their full strength barely dented a toddler asura,’ Regis cut in, looking up from where he lay in the corner, uninterested in the sparring.

The air in the room grew heavy as the gravity swelled. Going stiff, Bairon strained against the massive weight of his own body, which threatened to pull him to the ground. Sand was swirling up all around him and hardening into boulders that immediately flew in his direction.

Another thunderclap shook the training cave, lightning-attribute mana shivering and sparking in my Realheart-enhanced vision.

The stones quivered but didn’t break, their forms momentarily seeming somehow indefinite, and then they hit him. Instead of solid rock meant to crush and bludgeon, the stones exploded across Bairon like mud—or maybe quicksand—caking him from head to toe. Mica’s core again thrummed with the release of mana, and the sand became stone, hardening around his body.

Bairon’s eyes dilated, and the hair on his head stood on end.

A cloak of lightning coiled around him, and the crack of thunder shivered through the stone, causing it to burst apart before it could fully harden.

Lightning spread out like a web across the floor around his feet, creating many individual bolts that snapped up from the ground to destroy the pieces of stone that Mica tried to control, including the hammer forming again in her hand.

The currents of electricity—visible as streams of bright yellow mana—raced up Mica’s arm, causing her fist to spasm and tighten around the hammer. Her eye went wide as her muscles were swiftly paralyzed by the overload of electrical energy. But even when she suddenly reversed gravity and sent Bairon plummeting up toward the ceiling, it wasn’t enough to break his spell.

With Thunderclap Impulse active, Bairon was able to react with near-instant precision. He spun in the air, stabilized himself so that he was hovering upside down, and activated the lightning web burning across the floor.

Each individual tendril of electrical energy formed a small bolt and struck out in a seemingly random direction, ricocheting off the walls and ceiling to create a chaotic maelstrom of lightning bolts filling the cave.

The mana felt so close, like I could almost touch it. The muscle memory was still there, and it twitched as I watched the fight, like a one-armed soldier trying to lift his missing arm to ward off a blow.

With a sigh, I glanced at Varay’s conjured arm of ice. A thin but constant stream of deviant ice-attribute mana was trickling from her core into the arm, holding its form. If she could use mana to duplicate the effect of having a physical arm, was there a way that I, too, could replicate what I’d lost?

A haze of fine sand had risen to fill the cave, absorbing the electricity and nullifying Bairon’s spell. A new hammer was growing in Mica’s second hand, this one formed of dull iron. The lightning mana paralyzing her muscles was drawn out of her and into the metallic hammer. Bairon’s hair fell flat, signaling the end of the Thunderclap Impulse spell, just as Mica hurled the lightning-infused chunk of iron at Bairon. At the same time, gravity flipped again, and this time he was slammed backward into the closest wall.

I focused on how the atmospheric aether reacted—or didn’t react—to the mana. It seemed to ignore the mana completely, while at the same time always fitting into the space not occupied by mana. It was neither avoiding nor shaping the mana, not really. It was more accurate to think of the two forces as shaping each other, like a mountain stream following its banks after having formed the banks through erosion.

However, like the water and cup metaphor, this idea failed to properly explain the relationship between the two forces.

Pinned against the wall, Bairon couldn’t react in time to avoid Mica’s electrified metal hammer. It crashed into him, and he was lost in a cloud of dust and debris.

The visible mana particles faded away as my concentration on Realmheart gave out.

“Bairon?” Varay said, stepping out from behind the protective layer of transparent ice.

A dry cough came from the dust, then Bairon’s silhouette appeared, hunched slightly. He straightened and cracked his neck as he strode back out into the open. Behind him, the dust faded, revealing a hole in the cavern wall several feet deep. “Well fought, Lance Mica. I’m feeling nearly recovered. You seem to be as well.”

Mica flexed the arm that still held her oversized hammer. “Mica does feel much better, yes.”

The Lances had been strained to the point of backlash during their fight with Taci, with wounds that would leave a mark for the rest of their lives. Although the scabs around Mica’s eye had already fallen away to reveal shining scars beneath, the eye itself would never heal.

Varay’s arm of magical ice and the onyx stone resting heavily in Mica’s eye socket would stay with them as stark reminders of their near-deaths, but for me, they were something else entirely.

The other four Lances together hadn’t been able to defeat Taci. Aya had sacrificed her life just to slow him down. And Taci was only a boy by asuran standards. How could I expect them to stand against the likes of Aldir or Kordri, much less Kezess and Agrona?

The truth was that we were preparing for a war against deities, but we’d already lost a war against men, and our most powerful mages not only hadn’t grown in strength, but couldn’t.

‘There is still Fate,’ Regis reminded me. ‘Maybe they wouldn’t have to fight if we went back to the Relictombs.’

Or, by the time we came back, there might not be a world left to save, I thought, feeling a dark melancholy creeping to overtake my mood.

Instead, I turned back to the Lances and forced a smile onto my face. “So Bairon, how did Mica manage to win with only one eye?”

A scowl flashed across Bairon’s face, but it quickly transformed into a wry grin as he took in my expression. “Well, you know how grumpy she gets when you don’t let her win.”

Mica stamped her foot and crossed her arms, making her look more childlike than ever. “You let me win, did you? Maybe if you were more versatile, Bai, you wouldn’t have ended up buried ten feet into the wall.”

I chuckled and felt the sourness leaving me. Even one side of Varay’s lips quirked up in something that almost looked like a smile.

“I’m curious, though, what were you doing with the lightning tendrils while you were under the effects of Thunderclap Impulse?” I asked. “I couldn’t keep up with the micro-movements while your reactions were so fast.”

Bairon’s head turned to the side slightly as he regarded me in surprise. “You noticed? But how? I...” He cut himself off with a disbelieving laugh. “Nevermind, nothing you do surprises me anymore. As for your question, I can extend my senses out through the lightning-attribute mana when casting Thunderclap Impulse.”

“So you’ve even improved on my spell. Impressive.”

Mica snorted. “If you’re going to be a one-trick pony, it better be a good trick.”

“Perhaps your head has grown too big for your small body,” Bairon said, flexing his hands and making electricity jump between his fingers. “I think a rematch is necessary.”

“Actually,” Varay cut in, raising her brows at me, “I was hoping Arthur might agree to a bout with me. It’s been a very long time since we sparred. I know I speak for all three of us when I say that we’d like to get a closer look at your capabilities.”

I thought about this, then shook my head. Although I knew I needed to help the Lances grow stronger—somehow—I didn’t think that sparring was the way. “Actually, I was just about to excuse myself. I’ve been waiting on Gideon for something, and I’d like to check on his progress.”

“Understood,” she replied. “I suppose I should check in with Lords Earthborn and Silvershale on the defensive alterations they are making to the city.” I could sense the mostly-concealed hesitation in Varay’s voice. When I gave her a wry smile, she sighed. “Their bickering is tiresome.”

Chuckling, I said, “Well, good luck with that.” I gave the three Lances a small wave in farewell, then started down the long tunnel back to Vildorial, where I circumnavigated the city to arrive at the Earthborn Institute. Regis padded along silently behind me.

The gate into the school was guarded, but the dwarves there only watched warily as we passed by. The school’s carved-stone halls hummed with the constant rumble of machinery, folding in any noise Gideon’s lab may have made, and eventually, I had to ask for directions from a passing faculty member in order to track him down.

This led me deep into the bowels of the school where the hallways were plain and unadorned, looking more like a prison than an educational institution. Heavy stone doors lined both sides of the hall at regular intervals on my right, while those on the left were much more spread out. I found what I was looking for halfway down the hall .

The door was propped partially open, a fact that probably had something to do with the dry heat and burning stench that was wafting out into the hall, Gideon’s harsh voice coming along with it.

“Bah. Let’s start from the beginning. Emily, have you been writing all this down?”

“Writing what down, Professor? We haven’t covered anything new in hours,” she said, her tone teasingly insubordinate.

“Don’t call me that, girl, and just...write down everything I say.”

“Yes sir,” she answered, the rolling of her eyes practically audible from the hallway.

I slipped through the door and leaned against the frame, but didn’t announce my presence. Regis poked his head in beside me. ‘It smells like burnt ass in here.’

Gideon and Emily were standing next to a metal table draped with a ragged, scorched leather cover. Several lighting artifacts hung over the table, casting bright light down on several artifacts that had been carefully laid out atop it.

“We know—”

“Think,” Emily interrupted. _{freewebnσvel.cøm}

“—that the obsidian staff is the primary device used in what we have been told is the ‘bestowal ceremony,’ a ritual using these artifacts to grant Alacryan mages ‘runes’—”

“Spellforms,” Emily said.

“—but simply channeling mana into the staff does not cause an immediate reaction.”

Resting lengthwise across the table was an obsidian staff, just like the one I’d seen used in Maerin Town during their bestowment ceremony. The gem at its head glittered green, yellow, red, and blue. Not visible to the naked eye, but clear as day to me, was the concentration of aetheric particles contained within the crystal.

Curious, I activated Realmheart.

Warmth flooded through my back, along my arms, and under my eyes as the godrune lit up. The world around me shifted as the mana became visible. Earth mana clung to the stone walls, floor, and ceiling. Eddies of wind-attribute mana were tossed around on the subtle currents that moved away from where fire mana blazed in a couple of low-burning forges built into one wall.

Emily tensed, and I could see the goosebumps forming on her arms from across the room. Slowly, she turned toward the door. “Arthur, what...?”

Gideon turned a second later. He stared at me, his head cocked slightly to one side. “You going to a party, kid?”

I smirked at the joke, but my focus was on the staff: densely packed mana particles gave it its glow, and even without being activated, it seemed to be drawing more mana toward itself in a slow trickle.