Alaric Arthedain was a sixty-year-old elf with very little affinity for Magic. Which was quite an odd phenomenon amongst elves, since their high affinity for Mana and Magic made them popular among other races in Ostaria.
He was quite blessed with a big Mana Reserve, which was more than enough to cast several overlapping Master-class spells. But that was the problem, he couldn't bring any spell he tried into fruition.
It was either the spell becomes a mishap or nothing happens at all.
It was a big set back, especially since he was the heir to his father's Lordship at the time. Ostaria was also at war with a few realms here and there.
It was after a few years that he got the initiative to divert his overflowing mana into his physical stats. His strength, speed, agility and sensory abilities. This made him such a heavy hitter that he was later called the 'False Berserker'.
At the moment, as he struggled to pull his broad sword away from the Black Meelo's grip, he couldn't help but question his strength. The creature before him was no taller than 3 feet and was entirely made of blob. So how was it possible that it rivalled him in strength?
Alaric's body buzzed as the Black Meelo's black spirally eyes spun even faster.
Achlys could already sense what was going to happen. She also knew it'd be futile to try and stop it. There was no time to interfere at all.
In light of this, she clasped her hands and recited a simple chant.
At the same moment, an ocular blast of volatile energies beamed out of the Meelo's eyes, striking Alaric point blank.
Following a resounding boom, Alaric was blasted away into the distance, souring across the air like a ballistic missile. He looked no less than a speck of dust from everyone's perspective.
And just when they thought that was it, multiple explosions ensued around him, birthing a bright red shower of light on the forest.
"Father..." Hazel whispered shakily with weak limbs.
A subconscious Alaric plummeted from the smoke-filled and cloudy sky, his body shimmering a dull red glow as multiple runes flickered around his body at intervals.
Achlys had coated everyone in armour made of runes, that could tank quite a lot of damage. The armour wouldn't break until the last rune had been erased by an attack.
But she had sensed that the runic armour around Alaric was too weak to tank the Black Meelo's blast. Hence, she usurped the runes from a few elves that she knew could handle themselves, and encapsulated Alaric with it.
If it wasn't for that, the old elf might have died from the volatile beam... Maybe.
Alaric's eyes fluttered open as he fell rapidly, the wind violently slapping against his body.
'Thank you, Achlys,' he appreciated inwardly with a straight face, before turning to face the approaching forest.
Achlys clicked her teeth with arched brows and turned towards the Black Meelo, who was just standing there like a lifeless creature.
Chanting another spell she had mastered from her grimoire, she raised both hands and slowly brought them together. Mana sparked within the enclosing space and spurred into a small dome.
Simultaneously, a magical dome was constructed around the Black Meelo.
"It's more powerful than we thought. We've left it to evolve for too long," Achlys announced curtly. She narrowed her eyes, trying to peer into the Black Meelo's essence, but all she saw was a chasm of darkness. She hadn't even spent a second peering when it repulsed her back to reality.
She staggered back with a throbbing head. Hazel and another elf quickly stood behind her, placing a hand on her back.
Achlys exhaled heavily, "It's even worse than I thought... We have to contact the Sentries before it's too late."
"The Sentries?" an elf asked rhetorically. "But we've had no problem dealing with Black Meelos for years now. They might pose a little trouble, but not something beyond our capabilities."
Achlys could almost laugh at the elf's incognizance. She took two steps forward and turned to face everyone, raising her arms to the side, "That thing behind us is unlike anything we've ever encountered. It isn't like the other Black Meelos that are mere mutants. This one is an avatar!"
Aziel shuddered as she asked, "An avatar of what?"
With her arms still outstretched, Achlys turned towards the entrapped Meelo, and she whispered, "Chaos."
At the call of the word, a maniacal chuckle escaped the Black Meelo's mouth. Then it said, "What profound senses you have, black-haired witch."
The elves were stunned. No Meelo was capable of speech.
James on the other hand, couldn't be more surprised. The Black Meelo was an abnormality in the first place, and had one shot Alaric to God knows where. Hearing it speak paled in comparison to those feats.
"What are you?" Achlys asked, her arms still raised.
The Meelo hummed and the dome around it shattered to pixels of mana, that soon faded with the wind. Right before their very eyes, the Black Meelo dissolved into a heap of fudge and goo.
Then, almost immediately, the goo rose to a decent height of six feet, whilst assuming the shape of a man. But it had no facial features or genitals. It was like a pitch black mannequin that exuded an inundating foul abysmal aura.
The aura was so toxic that the dome around the elves began to crack and corrode gradually.
Watching the dome dissipate into flakes of Mana, the being of darkness raised his right hand and said with no mouth, "Having existed for eons now, I've been given many names, by worshipers and foes. But there is one I was called before getting sealed..." he paused for a second there, slightly turning his head upwards. Then he hummed once more and dropped his head, "Ah, yes. Ulak. Call me--"