After hearing the director's words, a shiver ran through the assembly. The faces of the mages turned pale, the magnitude of the revelation hitting them full force. The director, sensing the rising tension, continued in a grave and assured voice:
"The main reason the gods have no depiction of their appearance is due to their authority, which does not allow anyone to look at them directly for fear of going mad."
He paused, letting the heavy silence soak in his words before continuing. "If one looks directly at a divine being, they instantly acquire knowledge. And the more powerful you are, the more overwhelming and numerous this knowledge becomes."
The mages exchanged worried glances as Theodore's piercing screams echoed in the background, heightening their anxiety.
"If my assumption is correct, no, it's a certainty." declared the director with cold conviction. "This means that for the first time in the history of our kingdom, we have a clear image of a god."
The director's words resonated like a thunderclap. The mages, already shaken by recent events, seemed on the verge of collapsing under the weight of this revelation. Their pale faces and wide eyes testified to their terror.
The amount of shock they had endured in two days surpassed anything they had experienced in their entire lives.
The heavy silence in the room was broken by a trembling whisper: "Luckily, we couldn't see it."
Elara, still in shock, nodded at these words. As she was about to ask a question, she noticed that the screams coming from the celestial mirror had ceased. Everyone turned to see Theodore, slumped on the ground, supported by his trembling hands, trying to catch his breath.
The academy mages finally saw Donovan, his face smeared with blood. They also noticed the bloodstains and debris on the ground, evidence that Donovan had hit his head to calm his thoughts.
Hurried footsteps were heard, followed by shouts: "Master Theodore ? Master Donovan, what is happening ?"
"Do not enter! We are fine, go back, hold the door." ordered Theodore upon hearing Roland's voice. He understood that their screams had drawn attention. Although he was touched by their courage and concern, he knew they would become a burden in this frightening place.
Roland, reluctantly, obeyed. "If you need anything, call us." he said, his voice betraying palpable anxiety.
Theodore nodded, even though he knew Roland could not see him. "Thank you, Roland. Make sure no one else enters."
Feeling the presence of the knights moving away, Theodore and Donovan sat on the ground, taking care not to look at the painting at the back of the room.
The director, using the celestial mirror, asked Theodore: "What have you understood, Master Theodore ?"
Theodore's response quickly reached everyone's ears. "The person depicted in the painting is called the Dark Slayer. The information was confusing; 'he' is also called the Blasphemer, but I do not know the reason."
Hearing these words, Donovan, knowing he was speaking to the director, added what he had understood. "According to the information I received, 'he' came from a continent called Celestial Dust, but the most important information I perceived is..."
Seeing his companion fall silent with a distorted expression, Theodore understood that the information was random and fragmented. While Theodore had received irrelevant information, Donovan seemed to have discovered something significant.
The director and the mages listened intently, waiting for Donovan's words with great attention.
" 'He' was a god." Donovan's voice was heard, making Theodore's heart race and confirming the director's assumption.
Even though the mages had heard this hypothesis from the director's mouth, Donovan's confirmation struck them like a thunderclap. With pounding hearts and short breaths, they took a deep breath, trying to digest this revelation.
Donovan continued: "The reason 'he' was called the Blasphemer was because 'he' had disrespected someone at that time."
"In doing so, 'he' was condemned by the same person to be nailed to a cross, upside down, and to have his face eaten by crows for hundreds of years. All 'his' skin was peeled by this person, then used to paint a picture."
Taking a deep breath, he added :"'This painting in the chamber was created by that powerful being."
A leaden silence fell on the ruin's room and the academy's as the horror of the revelation spread among the mages.
The director, pale as death, suddenly had a revelation. "Wait a minute ! If this painting is authentic, why would it be here ? We are talking about the remains of a true god !"
This thought struck Theodore and all the mages in the room with the force of a divine revelation. Only one possible conclusion formed in their terrified minds: "The person who was in this ruin is the one responsible for the death of that god."
Terror filled their hearts, a visceral fear that chilled their blood. The director stood up abruptly, urgency and determination in his voice: "Listen to my orders ! Starting tomorrow, all high mages will explore the Endless Forest. Everyone without exception! Delegate the tower's affairs to your trusted confidants !"
The mages were stunned by this hasty decision. Alistair, his voice trembling with hesitation, dared to speak: "Director, I don't think it's wise to rush like this. If this being was truly a god, how is it that the apprentices are still alive and sane after seeing it ?"
Hearing this, the director felt his tumultuous heart calm slightly. He coughed to regain composure and admitted: "You are right. It doesn't seem logical. So, the most likely conclusion is that there is a relationship between this entity and this character."
Listening to this reflection, the other mages began to calm down, though still shaken. They let the director's suggestion infuse into their minds, finding it the most plausible.
The director coughed once more, his face serious. "Alright, forget my previous order. Focus on retrieving the orb. We absolutely must not let this matter leak out."
The mages nodded, still in shock, digesting the astounding revelations while refocusing on the upcoming mission. They then saw Theodore helping Donovan out of the room. Donovan seemed nauseous, his face marked by pain.
Theodore, concerned, asked: "Are more insights still infiltrating your mind ?"
Donovan shook his head, but his expression remained strained. In a weak voice, he murmured, "I... I feel something rising." Then, unable to hold back, he vomited. What came out of his mouth was not just bile, but a thick, sinister black substance.
Theodore recoiled, horrified, as Donovan nearly collapsed, exhausted. The mages around the mirror, witnessing this scene, felt a new wave of chills engulf them.
As Theodore approached to examine the black substance more closely, it seemed to react as if detecting imminent danger. Quickly, it concealed itself among the gravel on the ground, blending into the darkness like a fleeting shadow.
Stunned by this reaction, Theodore wasted no time reflecting. He placed his hands on the ground, murmured a few barely audible words, and instinctively channeled his energy.
After that, rose thorns infiltrated, winding with sinister grace among the gravel of the corridor, extending to the door of the ruin. They coiled and slipped with an almost supernatural fluidity, leaving a trail of silent, imperceptible movement.
Suddenly, Theodore felt a subtle disturbance, like a distant vibration in the air. Frowning, he murmured a curse under his breath: "Aside from the death of a few insignificant insects, there's nothing. This damned worm has completely vanished !"
As he berated himself for his inefficiency, Theodore heard the director's voice resonate in his head: "Get Donovan out of the ruin and ask Knight Roland to watch over him. I've already sent a few lower-level mages to take care of him. Additionally, tell Donovan to pay attention to the guards around him. I fear this little worm is a parasite that failed to attach to his body because of the academy's artifact."
Hearing these words, Theodore was shocked but complied without further questions. The mages around the table nodded, indicating that they too had considered the same conclusion.
As silence settled, Alistair turned slightly to see Elara with a small excited smile. Curious, he said, diverting all the mages' attention to her: "Master Elara, I see you are quite excited by the events unfolding."
Under everyone's gaze, Elara felt embarrassed but nodded: "Yes, although I was very scared at first, as a pure seeker of knowledge, I find it very exciting to know of such an ancient existence. Just thinking about all the knowledge it holds already makes me salivate."
"Moreover, I who thought I knew almost everything about this world, discover that there is a continent I've never heard of and beings I couldn't even imagine."
"And the questions in my head keep arising: what did the blasphemer do to deserve such torture ? Who is the being responsible for his death ? What is this character's relationship with all this ? Additionally, I've just discovered that the gods had differences in power among themselves !"
Seeing her enthusiasm, everyone remained speechless, but they couldn't deny that they too were very eager to know the answers to these questions.
***
*One hour earlier.*
In a cabin nestled in the heart of the forest, the first light of dawn delicately infiltrated through the foliage, gently caressing the wooden walls. The scene was a poem in itself, where each ray of light danced with the shadows of the trees, creating a silent symphony of nature awakening.
Xiao Yao, lying on his bed in a position reminiscent of pharaohs sleeping for eternity, suddenly opened his eyes.
"The same vision, hmm... it seems my subconscious wants to tell me something." Xiao Yao chuckled at this thought, seemingly undisturbed by the disappearance of some of his memories.
He slowly rose from his bed, his movements imbued with a calculated grace, then descended the steps. It was around four in the morning, and the old man who shared the cabin was still sleeping peacefully. Xiao Yao paid him no mind and headed for the amenities.
After spending a quarter of an hour attending to his needs in the tranquility of the cabin, Xiao Yao slowly rose from his seat, aware of each movement as if dancing an ancient dance. He carefully chose a piece of bread he had found in a corner of the kitchen, savoring each bite with undisguised satisfaction. Then, with a loud burp, he expressed his disdain for the norms of etiquette.
He turned his head slightly to the right, staring at the canvas mounted on a wooden frame. A slight smile formed on his face as he settled comfortably before it.
"Since I can't understand their language, let's use this." Xiao Yao chuckled, taking the brush in his hands.
*45 minutes later.*
The old man slowly opened his tired eyes and gazed at the ceiling of the room with an emotional look. There, painted with striking delicacy, a beautiful and graceful woman held a small flower gently in her hand. Her face radiated a sweet smile that seemed to soothe the old man's soul. Behind her, a landscape of mountains majestically framed her calm and serene presence.
As the old man lay there, lost in his contemplation, the sudden sound of knocking at the door pulled him from his reverie. Frowning before relaxing, he sighed and got up.
Upon opening the door, he found the enigmatic young man who had brazenly entered his home the day before. This young man, whose air of nobility was hard to conceal and whose robe was of divine splendor, smiled at him with quiet confidence. He made a courteous gesture clearly indicating, "after you, dear sir." towards the staircase.
As they descended the steps, unlike yesterday, Xiao Yao showed no impatience. He remained behind the old man, observing with serenity his slow and measured movements.
After reaching the last step, the old man noticed the breadcrumbs scattered on the table. His mouth tightened at the sight, and he wondered if he was truly in his own home or if this mysterious young man was the real owner of the cabin. While he was lost in these doubts, he felt a light tap on his shoulder.
Turning around, he saw Xiao Yao gently pointing to one side of the room. Following the direction indicated, the old man with hollow eyes stood frozen in amazement. The canvas, which was supposed to be blank, was now filled with a breathtaking landscape.
Before his eyes stretched a scene of majestic mountains, whose snow-capped peaks seemed to touch the heavens. In the midst of this natural splendor stood a large bird, a meter tall, with feathers that were a kaleidoscope of five vibrant colors. Its feathers, like shards of jade and coral, sparkled under a mystical light, each movement creating a hypnotic dance of shimmering hues.
The tail feathers spread like a fan, each bearing intricate patterns reminiscent of ancient paintings from lost dynasties. Its beak, golden like pure gold, was finely chiseled, and its eyes, deep black, seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. The plumage of its wings, red as the petals of the rarest lotus, displayed iridescent reflections, evoking tales and legends of ancient times.
The bird's legs, elegant and powerful, rested with innate grace on an obsidian rock, adding a touch of imperial grandeur to the scene. The creature itself seemed to be the embodiment of the quintessence of heaven and earth, a symbol of beauty and mystery transcending the mortal world.
As he was still in his stupor, Xiao Yao came before him and made a gesture that clearly meant : "Have you ever seen this ?"
Seeing the young man's gestures, the old man, though understanding his intentions, couldn't react. It wasn't his fault. He had the impression that at any moment, this majestic bird might fly out of the painting, so real did it seem.
Seeing that the old man was ignoring him, Xiao Yao didn't take offense. In the past, his paintings had always garnered admiration, even from kings and immortal emperors. Of course, for those works, Xiao Yao infused them with his spirituality, unlike this one. But for a mortal, it was the pinnacle of perfection.
As Xiao Yao was about to tap the old man's shoulder to pull him out of his reverie, he sensed something.
"Oh? Sooner than I thought. It seems this era truly harbors many curious souls. Good." thought Xiao Yao, his humor tinged with intrigue.
Ignoring the old man, he opened the door of the house and observed the dawn with a slightly disdainful smile.
"Run, little bee, and lead me to the hive." he said softly, his eyes gleaming with a mysterious light.