"Tell us about the incident, Captain. Leave no details behind," Tirlis commanded, fixing his gaze on Captain Gremal, the man who had been holding the mayor when he went kamikaze. The mayor wasn't the only one—every intermediate realm practitioner they captured had exploded after him. Gremal had lost more than half of his soldiers in those blasts, and the survivors were injured to varying degrees, depending on their proximity to the suicide bombers.
"It was a trap," the captain said.
"..and we fell right into it."
He had his fists clenched. He wanted to find Kolfel and tear him to pieces, but that wish had already been granted—under Tirlis's watch, no less. As Tirlis pondered how to capture another of those people, he wanted to know their secret, Hidragges spoke up. "Elaborate."
The captain recounted his encounter with the people in the tunnel, describing how the situation spiraled into chaos with the explosions. He concluded with the mayor's last words: "It's watching you."
Tirlis snapped out of his thoughts at those words and asked, "Are you sure he said that?"
"Yes, Sir Tirlis. Those were his exact words before he exploded," the captain confirmed, he remembered them word by word, like they were etched into his soul. The explosion that almost took his hand made sure he remembers them as well.
"Hmmm. You should get that hand checked. Dismissed," Tirlis ordered. Gremal nodded and left, leaving behind a room full of curious expressions.
All eyes were now on Tirlis, wondering what those words meant. Not letting them suspend too much in suspense, he waved his hand, and a projection appeared, displaying his experiment on Kolfel, how he cut him opened, and drained his blood to when he opened his eyes and not let out a single painful grunt.
Everyone watched it intently, they knew Tirlis had taken Kolfel, so they weren't entirely surprised, but the scene before them made some scrunch their eyebrows in disgust. Though they were repulsed by his methods. Tirlis remained unfazed, not caring about them. Soon, a voice was amplified through the projection: "It's watching you." What followed was an explosion clearly intended to kill or harm everyone nearby.
As the hologram vanished, it left behind a room of confused faces, with more questions than answers. "Who was watching him?" They saw Tirlis checking for any magic or scroll used for surveillance, but found nothing, not a single trace of such magic.
Arjen voiced his questions: "A spy?"
Nenath nodded and added, "A dedicated one, or…"
She trailed off, but everyone could pick what she implied. However, Tirlis shook his head and said, "A puppet of such complexity is impossible, especially a dispossible one. The soul implosion of a mortal cannot affect even another mortal."
He then showed them a report, a projection appeared before everyone, and said, "There was something strange about his blood." As they studied the report, their confusion deepened. Many wondered if they had received the correct document.
"It is the right report. Something absorbed all the vitality from his body and stored it in his blood."
He took out a vial which had was shining a golden. He then presented another report, which was even more baffling than the first.
"This was after the explosion. The vitality is missing."
He wasn't done, as he showed them the benefit of the golden liquid in the vial. It made many's eyes squint. Such a thing was impossible.
Silence filled the room as everyone read through the reports. Arjen was the first to finish and mumbled, "The Dominion was hiding something like this."
Although his voice was faint, everyone could hear it. A thought formed in their minds: what if they could weaponize an advanced realm artist or a master realm artist and harness the golden vial? This possibility made their expressions grow severe. But Tirlis shook his head and said, "I don't think the Dominion knows about this. I suggest sending a master realm artist to investigate the tunnel. A relic might have caused it, or perhaps something strange has started to appear like the seers said."
"How so?" someone asked.
"First, everyone here knows why no one knows we are here, and that no empire or kingdom could create such a thing without our knowledge."
"Second, before Iron'Heits, no such incident occurred. This leaves only the Frostbornes and the reason we're here."
This made everyone furrow their brows, but they waited for him to continue. After seeing everyone's attention on him, he continued.
"The Frostbornes are in the dark as well. Their house leader is leading the front in the Mirage Wastes, with most of their forces engaged there. That leaves only Kendrick. But too many people died in the tunnel, and that doesn't fit Kendrick's methods."
The room fell silent. Some agreed with Tirlis, while others still believed it might be the Dominion's or Kendrick's doing.
"All I can conclude is that something happened in that tunnel. This strangeness might be the clue we need. We don't have much time; it could happen again at any moment."
Arjen nodded, noticing that others seemed to support Tirlis's assessment as well. While many points didn't fit neatly into the puzzle and much of what Tirlis said was speculative, they couldn't afford to take any risks.
Arjen didn't hesitate and snapped his fingers. Immediately, someone appeared, wearing a silver mask with a single black diagonal line across it. His black armor covered his entire body, and a robe fluttered around him as if caught in an unseen breeze. The moment he appeared, he bowed, one knee to the ground.
Arjen told him what needed to be done. The masked figure placed a hand over his chest in acknowledgment, then vanished. No one commented on the strangeness of his appearance; they were more curious about what results he would bring. A desire appeared in many's mind, wanting to acquire the golden vial.
Their meeting continued for a while before concluding. Everyone left except for Tirlis, who remained seated, lost in thought. Many gave him a look, wandering what was going through his mind, but no one knew.
...
Erik was in a world of his own, absorbed in reviewing one document after another as he busied himself with management tasks. Valcroy, meanwhile, had returned to the Crucible of Endurance, training to his heart's content.
He was slowly getting lost in the pleasure of training, thanks to a revitalizing energy that appeared whenever he reached his limit and could go no further. This energy rejuvenated him, cleared his fatigue, refilling both his physical and mental reserves, allowing him to keep on going.
Collum and Mallory were occupied with their own responsibilities. Collum was overseeing the army and preparing defenses, according to the report Erik had given him. Upon learning about the various contraptions that the Alliance had prepared for the siege, he realized the need to further solidify their defenses.
Mallory, on the other hand, was busy tallying the resources confiscated from the nobles. The noble with the dimensional ring, planted by Kendrick as a failsafe, was also by her side. And one had to admit—he delivered.
Apart from some defensive treasures and talismans that the nobles had kept to themselves for their own protection, everything had been taken by Erik. As Mallory counted the spoils, a smile crept across her face. With these resources, they could survive for half a year, including everyone in Iron'Heits.
However, that smile quickly faded when she remembered the bloodshed it took to get these resources. But she didn't blame Erik; it wasn't his fault. The people had been desperate and were taken advantage of. It was just that he should've handled them with a different approach.
"Those damn nobles," she thought bitterly. They were already dead and would surely suffer in the afterlife.
After finishing the paperwork, Erik returned to training. He joined Valcroy in the Crucible of Endurance, sensing that his body muscles still had room for improvement.
The moment he entered, he saw Valcroy standing in a horse stance on the scorching sand, holding weights in both hands. Valcroy had added extra difficulty by placing a cup on each knee, balancing them carefully to prevent the liquid from spilling. He was sweating profusely, his body pushed to its limits.
Erik watched him for a moment before starting his own training. He walked to the other side of the chamber and changed the setting of the chamber, plunging half of the area into an ice-cold environment. The cold seeped into one's body, threatening to freeze them from the inside out.
He then adjusted the setting once more, causing the floor to vibrate as the tiles shifted. A steel pillar, just wide enough to place one foot on, emerged from the ground, rising higher and higher until it reached a dizzying height. Erik stood atop the pillar, preparing for his training.
Balancing on one foot, Erik circulated mana through his body. As it seeped into his muscles, it tempered them, increasing their strength and endurance. The mana infusion enhanced his muscle fibers, making them more resilient.
After tempering his muscles for a while, Erik turned his attention to mana control. He focused on drawing a mana map, using his bloodstream as key points. He successfully divided the mana into nine strands, unequal proportion, his control over them was still not good enough.
He started from the blood vessels leading to and from the heart (the superior and inferior vena cava, pulmonary arteries, pulmonary veins, and aorta). But at the first juncture, where he needed to split the streams further, he failed. It was more difficult than he thought it would be, but he had a feeling that mastering this technique would bring his mana control to Valcroy's level—though Valcroy was unaware that he had become Erik's benchmark.
Valcroy had been standing in the horse stance for over an hour when he finally collapsed, the liquid in the cups evaporating the moment it touched the scorching sand. His body had turned red from the heat, and he quickly stood up and left the sand.
"That was not nice," he muttered as he entered the cold section. He hadn't known he could manipulate the settings in the Crucible. Collum had just thrown him in without the instruction manual.
The revitalizing energy he had been waiting for arrived, soothing his body and mind. Energized, Valcroy replicated the cold-world settings in another section of the Crucible and continued his training, thoroughly enjoying his journey to greater strength.
"I should give this energy some name." He said to himself.
---
Rumble* Rumble*
Crackle*
Pitter* Patter*
The heavens remained shrouded in an unyielding gloom, their darkened expanse untouched by the light of day. The sky thundered, striking a chord in the heart of the lone figure. Rain cascaded with unrelenting fury, as though intent on washing the earth of its ghastly burden. The turbulent torrent sought to obliterate the remnants of death that marred the ground, striving to conceal the harrowing visage of mankind's inhumanity. (A/N: I attempted to mimic Mary Shelley's style—let me know if you like it.)
As the elements created an ominous symphony, and the blood of thousands pooled in one place...
Tap* Tap*
Splash*
Footsteps, barely audible over the thunder and rain, echoed as a figure dressed in black appeared near the forest where the massacre of Iron'Heits had taken place. The corpses were still fresh, a testament to the horror and cruelty that had unfolded there.
The figure, clad in black armor that reflected the lightning in its metal plates, walked into the tunnel, scanning his surroundings as if searching for something. He hadn't gone far before encountering his first obstacle: a boulder that had caused many to wallow in despair and die.
The figure stood there for a moment, releasing a pulse of mana from his body that penetrated the boulder, wandering beyond it.
His vision showed him corpses littering the ground, and the collapsed tunnel. He continued to search, looking for the relic that had caused all this destruction. His vision reached the end of the tunnel, along the way, all he saw were corpses. He saw the ruins of the villa when his vision left the tunnel.
But before he could investigate further, a voice echoed in his mind, "You shouldn't peek into someone's house."
Suddenly, pain exploded throughout his body, and he was sent flying. He tumbled across the ground, turning several corpses into a mist before finally coming to a stop.
He struggled to his feet, stumbling slightly. His foot was completely broken, and a deep wound had opened across his body. Unbeknownst to him, something far worse had targeted him, using the blood mist as cover to infiltrate his body.
The figure didn't stay in the tunnel any longer; he knew who had attacked him, Kendrick Frostborne. The atmosphere once again returned to its previous gloom, as the forces of nature tried their best to prevent an unnatural being from entering this world. But they failed when that being received the blood of a master realm martial artist.
The blood pool started bubbling. Something was coming.