Following Uztia's detailed report, the leaders of the various clans could hardly contain their fury upon learning of Lancelot's blatant disrespect towards a deity. To say they were merely angry would be a gross understatement; a more fitting description would be sheer loathing.
Altra, the esteemed leader of the Thesus clan and embodiment of the Goddess of Health, was seated to my left. She stood at an average height, her skin flawless white and without blemishes or imperfections. Her long, straight black hair cascaded gracefully down to the base of her spine, while her sapphire-colored eyes sparkled with a harsh glint. A delicate scattering of freckles adorned her face, adding a touch of charm to her otherwise striking appearance.
On my right sat Michael, the God of War and the esteemed leader of the Strive Clan. Michael was unique among the gods, having engaged with Lancelot on multiple summons to bestow upon him formidable power.
His physique was nothing short of ideal, devoid of any excess fat or blemishes. Cascading down his back were long, curly locks of fiery red hair, and his eyes shone with a golden hue, resembling a cross. Michael exuded a sense of calm and composure, yet when roused, he revealed the fierce nature that earned him the title of God of War. At that moment, he remained seated, attentively listening to the discussions around him.
To the left of Altra sat Estra Hestia, the esteemed leader of the Hestia Clan and the Goddess of Protection.
Estra was an enchanting figure, a slender yet curvaceous woman with rich, dark skin that radiated beauty. Her light brown hair cascaded gracefully past her shoulders, framing her face and accentuating her pointed ears that peeked through her locks. The moment one gazed upon her, her striking violet eyes and full, red lips effortlessly captivated attention. Draped in a pristine white dress that beautifully contrasted with her dark complexion, she exuded an air of elegance. Completing her look, she wore white heels and sat poised, her left leg elegantly crossed over her right.
At that moment, she was engaged in a heated debate with Vulcan, the final member of the room.
Vulcan is driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, willing to traverse any boundary in his quest for understanding. In his relentless pursuit, concepts of morality and ethics hold no sway; he embodies what humanity might label as a mad scientist. The idea of conducting inhumane experiments is a trivial matter for him. Engaging in mass extermination to observe how the remnants of a civilization adapt and endure in the aftermath? Such actions fall well within the realm of his reasoning.
Standing tall by human standards, Vulcan exceeds the average height, presenting an imposing figure. He is clad in an elegant black suit, complemented by a crisp white shirt, a meticulously knotted black tie, and striking golden cufflinks that catch the light.
His striking azure blue eyes, framed by golden-rimmed, rimless glasses, scan the surroundings with an intense focus. His tousled black hair occasionally obscures his vision, adding to his enigmatic presence.
Beneath his tailored suit, his tan skin is adorned with dark spots that remind him of his past's failed experiments and tribulations.
My mind drifted away from the discussion as they engaged in a heated argument, their antics reminiscent of children squabbling. It wasn't until they turned their gazes toward me as if anticipating my input that I was pulled back in.
"Your Majesty, was it vital to revive that human? Do not get me wrong; I am not questioning your actions; I'm just concerned about the future. " Altra said as she looked at me.
"He's an interesting creature, and for my reasons, I have several, whether personal or other means. Enough about the ant now; what of |_ _ _| |_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _|'s state?" I asked as I looked at Vulcan.
"Her body is on the brink of collapse, with every organ failing except for her brain, which exists in a surreal, dream-like condition. Gradually, she draws in the surrounding mana, using it to piece herself back together. It is estimated that she will require approximately 25 mortal years to achieve a complete revival. She will be complete when she returns, and her previous incomplete transformation will not restrict her. Should she awaken, her power would be beyond measure; all scaling—words, concepts, laws, space, and time—would hold no meaning in her presence. |_ _ _| | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ | will be a being that defies all reason and will be the ultimate lifeform superior to you, Your Majesty." Vulcan let out a low growl after uttering that final remark.
Is it happening this soon? I was under the impression that I had a good century left to prepare before facing her. Even in her current weakened condition, her formidable elite guard remains vigilant. Lucifero, on his own, matches my strength, and I would find it challenging to emerge from a confrontation without injury.
As for |_ _ _| |_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _|, she presents a whole new level of challenge. Her power, amplified by sin, elevates her far beyond my capabilities.
A true God-like being. If something like that is born, then my powers would be insignificant in comparison.
"Since my ability to rewrite reality failed me due to her influence, we must use the cards we are dealt with. We must keep the marked away from the other side to delay her revival at all costs. I must gather strength to oppose |_ _ _| |_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _| at the very least." I said in an emotionless tone.
"That makes me wonder, how could she influence your ability so well when only her brain works? Does she still have that much power and mana to do such a thing? If this is the case, I must hasten my projects." Vulcans said as he pulled out a notepad and jotted down notes.
"I will have to train myself thoroughly and bring the others up to speed in terms of power so that they may serve you, your Majesty," Michael said as he ran his hands through his hair.
"What of Lancelot? He is the destined child now that I saved him. Can he truly be allowed to live if he is destined to destroy everything?"
Uztia broke the silence as I lingered in anticipation of a response.
"Why concern yourself with him? He is just as powerless as any other human. Once he serves his purpose, we can easily discard him."
"Do you truly think he can carry out my commands?" I inquired, locking my gaze with her mesmerizing, multi-color eyes.
"Do I think he has that ability?" she echoed, a smile spreading across her face that would send shivers down the spine of any mortal who dared to meet her gaze.
"If he doesn't now, we can give him it. It'll be a power we can control without drawbacks since he can't hope to betray us. That is what all mortals are: pawns that must serve their creator for all of eternity. Every waking moment must be to do your bidding. "
"What of the war potentials? Are they faring well?" I asked.
"Samuel Rodrigues is the strongest mortal in existence, a genius so talented that he mastered skill and battle arts meant for godlings so perfectly that it seems like he was born with them," Michel said as he read his report.
"Samuel pushes higher and higher through sheer willpower and skill, breaking the limitations set by you, Your Majesty. He treads very close to reaching the power the ancient dragons once held as a clear core. Samuel threatens even threatens most of us godlings with his vast arsenal of powers, techniques, abilities, and authorities. His summon is The King Of Beasts, or his adolescent form, Kaio. Kaio is the strongest Mana Beast, even in his incomplete form."
"Leon Valcaress stands out as a remarkable talent among mortals, poised to ascend to the upper echelons of the most exceptional mortals currently inhabiting Terra. Like another notable potential, he possesses impressive fire and wind mage abilities, earning him recognition among his peers. His summon is Ifrit, the Fire Elemental, further enhancing his prowess. What sets him apart even more is that he is one of the rare dragons still in existence who remains untainted by corruption."
"Mason |_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _| is the first user of the Six Shadows user in a considerable time, indicating that this particular bloodline has endured through the ages. This discovery raises significant concerns, as the entities summoned through this contract are among the elite ranks of Mana Beasts, or rather, mortals, to be precise. These mortals, equipped with various formidable powers, have previously come perilously close to toppling and defeating you. I strongly advise eliminating this potential threat entirely, as he will likely become a considerable nuisance, even with the restrictions imposed on mortals."
"I refuse to do so. He does not present a danger to me; now, proceed."
"Mastery in shadow, wind, dark, light, and sound magic. His signature weapon is intriguingly named the Rail Lance. It's a firearm resembling a crossbow but utilizes small mana pellets that inflict significantly greater damage than arrows. I suspect Vulcan would be quite interested in examining it."
"Arthur stands out as a formidable war potential, possessing an extraordinary ability to harness holy magic, a gift that is exceedingly rare among humans. However, little is known about this mortal, as it appears that... wrench is actively obstructing the information regarding him, leaving many questions unanswered." Michael elaborated further
"Lancelot, too, presents a unique case for many reasons. He is being raised by Leon Valcaress, one of the last descendants of the revered Dragon bloodline, alongside Elaine Van Astraya, the hidden heir to the kingdom of Astraya. The uncertainty looms over whether he might turn against us upon discovering the truth about his transformation into a mere subject of experimentation. His youth makes it difficult to predict the type of magic he will eventually have or the extent of his potential this time around. He was the most powerful in his original timeline simply because no one else could endure the experimentations. His extensive combat knowledge and experience will make him a valuable pawn."
"Catherine. Unknown to every last detail except her name."
"The last candidate for war is Tristan. Only his name is known."
"The Guardians themselves are our counter to the Apostles. The war potentials are potential future Guardians and may even be strong enough one day to end |_ _ _| |_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _|' resurrection. These are all the notable people |_ _ _ _ _| named. End of report." Michael heaved a sign—a lot of talking and planning for this.
"I want eyes everywhere across all realms and spaces. Should these mortals expose themselves to us for even a moment, I wish to know. Expose their deepest, darkest secrets and bring them to light. Privacy is not needed in a world where I rule. Needless to say attempting to eliminate these mortals prematurely would just be a waste. Push them forward to their fated end."
"Yes, Your Majesty." All of them said in unison.
"Excellent, we have all our pawns on the table. All we need to do is move them how we please. Even for the unknowns, it doesn't matter; these mortals shall never be a threat to us. They are limited in power to stay beneath us. That is all for today; you are all dismissed."
***
I sat on the dwindling remnants of grass, trembling with fear. Despair and death loomed just mere inches from my trembling body, pushing me to the edge of unconsciousness, yet somehow, I clung to the fragile thread of awareness, unwilling to surrender.
As I lost control of my bodily actions, a wave of wet warmth covered my pants, and all the remains of my last meal came out as vomit. The remnants of my meal morphed into a crimson-blooded blanket, enveloping me in a warmth that covered me from head to toe.
The air was thick with the ghastly wails of agony reverberating in every direction. Terror slithered into my thoughts, and as if possessed, anguished cries clawed their way from my throat, filling the air.
"Mom! Dad! Brother! Sister! Where are you?!?"
As I fought to rise on my quaking legs, a desperate scream tore from my throat, echoing into the abyss, pleading for anyone who might still be alive in this nightmare.
Stumbling in the ash and smoke-filled air, I coughed and cried violently as I searched for any survivors. No one answered my cries. Instead of an answer, the silence grew heavier, and the smoke became denser.
A cold hand clamped over my mouth, snatching me from the ground as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. The figure that held me ran away, darting into the shadows, far from the path I had been treading. My muffled cries clawed at the air, desperate and frantic, as I writhed and struggled against the grip of my captor, a primal fear igniting within me.
A familiar voice spoke to me, calming me down and erasing my fear.
"Listen to me, Mason; I will send you far away from here to a place where you will be safe. I have a family friend who will take care of you. I must warn you: do not use your summons until you have allies strong enough to protect you. Do you understand?"
"I don't understand anything, mom. What happened? Why is there smoke? Where is Dad?"
"Your father is... taking care of something and can't come. Please, listen to me. Your father and I love you with all of our hearts. Remember that. Take this with you, and you can use our clan's secrets when the time comes. You are the clan's pride and joy, as well as my beloved son."
Despite hearing my mother's voice, I could not see her, yet I knew it was her. She put a large cloth in my hands and gently pushed me away. As soon as she did that, slender black hands emerged from the earth, slowly ascending and reaching to grasp my body and clothes. With every fleeting moment, a wave of drowsiness washed over me, and my eyelids felt increasingly heavy.
A sudden scream echoed in the vicinity, snapping me out of my sleepy haze. The unease over me quickly shifted to my mother, prompting her to quicken her movements. The dark hands that had once caressed me softly now gripped me with a fierce urgency, dragging me down into the ominous shadows lurking beneath me.
"Mom! Why are you doing this? Where is everyone?!?"
Suddenly, an object whizzed by my head, striking me squarely in the face and sending me reeling to the ground. The sight that met my eyes unleashed a torrent of screams that threatened to erupt from my throat. As I instinctively reached up to touch my face, my hand returned stained with a deep, crimson liquid.
"Blood?"
As I gazed upward, the shadow of my mother loomed before me, her left arm gone, crimson blood pouring from the gaping wound. In an instant, she thrust me aside, and the final image seared into my mind will eternally torment my very existence.
As the shadowy hands covered my vision, I beheld my mother's severed head soaring through the smoke-filled air, her crimson blood splattering across my face, with my agonizing wails that echoed in the air. The last thing I felt was my head slipping away from my body.
Some Time Later
The air was thick with the rustling leaves. Hooves pounded the earth like a heartbeat of the forest while the cawing of birds echoed like cries of the wind. The restless water howled restlessly as I awoke.
"Hey everyone, check it out! He's finally awake!" A clear and resonant voice rang out from my right side.
Something caught my attention as I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the brilliant sunlight filtering through the branches overhead. What could that be? Why is my hand so red?
Sniffing the air, I caught a strange smell all over me.
'Metal?'
As I stared at my clothes, a torrent of haunting memories surged through my mind, clawing at the fragile remnants of my sanity and tearing it apart. My mother was...
A chilling wail erupted from my lips as I clutched my throat, the horrifying realization crashing over me like a wave—I was decapitated. I rolled in torment on the cold, unforgiving ground as frothy foam bubbled grotesquely from my lips.
"Hey! Take it easy!" The same voice called out.
'Huh? Who are you...'
A vibrant lime-green glow enveloped me, gradually easing the grip of my fears. Although my trauma was dwindling little by little, I could still feel the tremors coursing through my body. This abruptly stopped my panicking as the light eased my worries. It felt strangely... peaceful.
Looking around, I saw the unfamiliar faces of four children who appeared to be around my age. Confusion washed over me, leaving me uncertain of my surroundings. Noticing my discomfort and anxiety, the boy standing directly in front of me extended his hand toward me. After a moment of hesitation and noticing he meant no harm, I accepted, albeit reluctantly.
As I leaned against him, my legs quaking beneath me, the floodgates of my emotions opened wide, and I wept freely, unrestrained. Tears streamed down my face, relentless and unyielding, as if they had a life of their own. At that moment, the weight of a harsh truth settled heavily upon me: my mother was no longer here, and it was all too likely that the rest of my family had met the same fate. I stood alone, the final remnant of a lineage that had existed since the dawn of humanity itself.
To make matters worse, I was soaked in the blood of my mother, the very person who mattered the most. The weight of my grief was monumental, an insurmountable tide that crashed upon the shores of my heart. No words could ever encapsulate the sheer horror of the emotions that engulfed me, a tempest of despair that left me utterly shattered.
The only thing keeping me from mentally collapsing was the hand holding mine, squeezing it to let me know I wasn't alone.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally turned my gaze to the person beside me. It was as if he could read my thoughts; his striking yellow-blue eyes locked onto mine, and he began to speak.
"You're safe here, so please try to calm down. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Arnold. Standing beside me is Leon, the one with brown hair and eyes. Next to him is Elaine, the young lady in our group. Finally, we have Samuel, who is holding the sword. May I ask what your name is?" the boy with pointy ears, Arnold, asked.
My lips quivered uncontrollably as I attempted to form words, but my vocal cords remained unresponsive. Shaking my head to signal my inability to speak, Arnold reassuringly tightened his grip on my hand. He then picked up a stick infused with wind mana and handed it to me, guiding me down to the ground so I could write my name in the dirt. After some effort, I finally spelled my first name for everyone around me.
"Mason, huh?" Leon said while eyeing my name. Looking up, I met his eyes and saw a twinkle in them. He extended his hand towards me and gave me a fearless smile.
"Come with me, Mason. I promise that whatever happened to you will never happen again as long as we are here for you." As I gazed at my hand, marred with blood, and then at his, pristine and untouched, I found myself looking back and forth between the two. In that moment of uncertainty, I made my choice. I took hold of his hand with determination, allowing him to lift me, only to stumble forward into him as my legs finally surrendered beneath me.
"Easy there, I won't be going nowhere, Mason. Before we do anything, let's get you cleaned off, ok?" With a firm nod, Arnold and Leon helped me over to the nearby body of water so that I could clean the bloodied remains of my mother off me.