Flutter—
["—The woman had striking blonde hair with a faint orange-yellow tint that glinted in the early morning light.]
[Her robes, emblazoned with faint mystical symbols, marked her as a mage of considerable skill. Beside her, the man had the same bright hair, with intense green eyes that scanned the surroundings, alert and ready—]
Arlon felt a pang of dread. No way… it's them, he thought, his mind racing. He had expected to encounter these two much later in the story—if he was following the original plot at all.
Ace, perched on Arlon's shoulder, glanced down at him, sensing his unease. "Looks like fate didn't get the memo about your plans to keep things simple," the cat muttered dryly, his tail flicking in amusement.
Lawrence, already stepping forward to assess the situation, didn't seem to notice Arlon's hesitation. "What's happened?" he asked, his tone calm but urgent.
The woman caught her breath, clutching her chest as if reliving the horrors. "They came out of nowhere—black-robed figures with magic that twisted the air. They took the children, caging them like animals. We barely escaped with our lives as the village burned behind us!"
The tall man, who had been silent, lowered his head and spoke with a gravelly voice. "Please… we need help. They were using some sort of ritual magic… the village was burning when we left."
Arlon clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. He remembered these two—Alice, the mage blessed the next guardian of the World Tree, and her brother, Anthony, the first blessed mage knight who wielded mana stone in battle. According to the novel, they were supposed to meet Lawrence much later, while he was en route to the Empire. Their sudden appearance here was unsettling.
Am I throwing everything out of balance? Arlon thought, feeling a slight chill. He knew Alice and Anthony played a vital role in aiding the villagers during the war, guiding them to safety while Lawrence and the second prince forces fought against the Celestial Clan. And now… they were standing in front of him, way ahead of schedule.
Lawrence glanced at Arlon and nodded. "We'll help," he said with a grim determination, and Arlon felt his stomach twist at the thought.
Ace, still on his shoulder, huffed in annoyance, his tail swishing. "What did you expect? Fate's not about to go easy on you."
Arlon shot him a look, muttering, "You could at least sound supportive."
The siblings, visibly relieved, quickly explained more details to Lawrence. "They had children… in cages," Alice whispered, her voice shaking. "I think they were setting up a ritual. They mean to use them as… sacrifices."
Lawrence's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with a cold resolve that Arlon rarely saw. "Then we need to act quickly," he said, motioning to Arlon. "Let's go."
Arlon winced internally. His role had become inevitable, whether he liked it or not. Despite his inner resistance, he nodded reluctantly, glancing back at Ace.
"Can't you help me get through this?"
Ace's voice echoed in his mind. "I'm not holding your hand. But I'll allow a fraction of my power—if you bring me to somewhere interesting, that is," he purred. "Or, maybe, I'll even teach you a trick or two. Let's see if you're worthy."
Suppressing an eyeroll, Arlon sighed. "Fine. Let's do this."
Alice approached him at that moment, bowing with a grateful expression. "Thank you… I'm Alice, and this is my brother, Anthony. We owe you so much for this."
Lawrence introduces. "I'm Lawrence Hill and this is Arlon Throndsen."
Alice stiffened, her eyes widening momentarily. Arlon noticed the slight flinch and held his breath, wondering if she had recognized his family name. But after a moment, she looked away, brushing it off, likely dismissing it as coincidence.
Once reassured that the villagers would be safe, they set off, following the path through the woods toward the wolf village. As they reached a clearing, Alice raised her hand, whispering an incantation. A portal began to form, its light swirling with faint sparks.
Arlon felt a rush of relief. No need to walk the whole way? Finally, something's going right. But as they stepped into the portal, a strange sensation washed over him, making his vision blur.
The light surrounding them was almost overwhelming, and he felt himself momentarily losing his balance, grasping at nothing as they shifted across space.
Shoom—
The light finally faded, and they stumbled out onto the edge of the wolf village, where smoke curled into the sky, thickening the air with an acrid smell. Cries echoed faintly through the trees, and the distant clanging of weapons could be heard.
Arlon's mind raced as he took in the scene. The village lay in partial ruins, its houses crumbling under the weight of the flames. Villagers scattered in a desperate attempt to escape, their fear palpable as the dark figures in robes pursued them.
Anthony unsheathed his sword with a steely determination, mana shimmering along its edge. "We'll distract them and keep them away from the villagers. Lawrence, take Arlon help them escape to safety," he instructed, before plunging forward with Alice by his side.
Lawrence glanced at Arlon, the fierce determination in his gaze unyielding. "Let's move," he said, already leading the way.
Arlon felt a spark of adrenaline as he followed, urging himself to stay focused. He wasn't a hero, but for now, survival and escape were the only things that mattered.
As the battle raged around them, Lawrence and Anthony were deep in combat, cutting through the black-robed cultists with deadly precision. Alice, standing back-to-back with her brother, cast defensive spells to shield the villagers who fled from the chaos.
Dooom—
Explosions of light and waves of energy pulsed across the village, clashing with the dark magic emanating from their enemies.
Fwooosh—
Her fingers wove intricate patterns, and radiant beams erupted from her palm, piercing through the ranks of enemies. Her face was fierce, her jaw clenched with resolve as she focused on keeping the villagers safe amidst the chaos.
Anthony and Lawrence tore into the heart of the enemy lines, leading the charge with brutal efficiency. Anthony swung his sword, its mana-charged edge cutting through robed figures as if they were nothing but air, while Lawrence moved like a shadow, every strike precise and lethal. The figures in black robes, Pry members, scattered in their path, struggling to regroup.
The cultists retaliated, chanting spells in low, guttural voices as they raised twisted staves, but Lawrence and the siblings held them at bay. They chanted in deep, guttural tones, their staves crackling with dark energy as they unleashed spells into the fray.
They attacked with relentless savagery, launching cursed projectiles and summoning shadowy creatures to harry the defenders. Explosions of light clashed with waves of dark energy, filling the air with the smell of scorched earth and the bitter tang of burnt magic.
The cultists' eyes glowed beneath their hoods, driven by a twisted zeal as they raised their staves again and again, attacking with dark determination.
"Push forward!" Lawrence commanded, his voice strong above the chaos. He sidestepped a cultist's thrust, driving his sword into his opponent's chest before whirling to parry another attack from behind.
Anthony was a step ahead, his sword ablaze with mana energy as he cut down two cultists in a single stroke. The two moved in unison, a coordinated wave of lethal force as they tore through the heart of the enemy ranks.
Meanwhile, Arlon and Ace slipped through the chaos, moving toward the cages at the far end of the camp. Ace, in his black cat form, perched lightly on Arlon's shoulder, his sharp eyes surveying their surroundings as they approached the metal cages lined up in grim rows. Each cage was battered and small, clearly meant to hold the young wolf villagers, their small forms huddled together or lying limp.
Arlon's stomach twisted as he opened the first cage, the acrid stench of burnt fur and blood hitting him like a physical blow. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the lifeless bodies inside, their small forms huddled together, singed fur clinging to thin frames. With each cage he opened, his chest grew tighter, the weight of helplessness pressing down on him.
All dead? His stomach twisted with a wave of guilt and frustration. They were too late.'Just like in the novel, no gray wolf is alive in this accident'
Ace growled softly beside him, sensing his distress. "Focus," he muttered. "There may still be hope."
Just as Arlon opened the last cage, Ace's ears perked up, and he lifted his head, sniffing the air. "Wait… there's one more. Still breathing," he whispered.
Arlon scanned the area, his eyes darting over the cages, and then he spotted it—a small cage almost hidden by debris, where a little gray wolf boy lay crumpled, barely visible. Rushing over, he dropped to his knees, fingers fumbling with the rusty chains binding the boy.
The child's clothes was covered in ash and grime, and the faint rise and fall of his chest told Arlon that he was alive, though only barely.
Arlon carefully pried away the chains, wincing at the rough iron biting into the boy's skin. But as he worked, a sudden chill ran down his spine—a presence was nearby, one that felt dark, twisted, and overpowering.
He glanced up, and his blood went cold.
A figure emerged from the shadows, the edges of his tattered black robe dripping with blood that soaked into the scorched earth beneath him. His hood obscured most of his face, but as he stepped closer, the flickering flames illuminated his features—a pale visage marred by two piercing eyes, one burning crimson, the other a sickly gold that gleamed like rotting sunlight.
The Moon Mage, he realized, dread pooling in his stomach. According to the novel, this was one of the infamous half-blood twin mages—a Moon Mage, whose power over dark magic was rivaled only by the Sun Mage, his equally deadly sibling.
The Moon Mage was known for ruthlessly using forbidden spells, sacrifices, and an insatiable thirst for blood.
Ace, now fully alert, leaped from Arlon's shoulder, landing beside him with a low, guttural growl. "Is that a half blood cursed Mage. We can take him down if you want."
Arlon froze, his breath catching as his heart hammered in his chest. "Ace, are you out of your mind?" he hissed, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. "That's the Moon Mage. One of the strongest mages alive. I wouldn't stand a chance even if I knew how to use your power!"
The Moon Mage was already moving closer, his gaze piercing, a dark energy gathering around his hands as he muttered a quiet incantation.He's lips twisted into a cruel smile as his gaze landed on Arlon.
Step—step
He took a step forward, his crimson and golden eyes gleaming with an unholy light, as though he sensed Arlon's fear and was relishing it.
"Ah, the hero arrives," the Moon Mage sneered, his voice laced with mocking disdain. "Do you think this is your moment of glory? How quaint. You're nothing more than a gnat buzzing in my way."
Arlon's mind raced. He had to protect the boy, but standing against the Moon Mage was suicide. He could barely keep his hands from trembling as he backed away, keeping the wolf boy shielded behind him.
Anger flared in Arlon's chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Ace," he whispered, "Let me use your power."
Ace's eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity. "Alright, I'll hold him off, even if it's just for a few moments, then you draw him away from the boy."
The Moon Mage's twisted smile widened, the crimson and gold of his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "How charming. You really think you can stand against me?" With a casual flick of his wrist, dark tendrils of energy unfurled like snakes, surging toward Arlon with a suffocating, heavy force that bent the air around them.
Arlon dodged, barely managing to pull the wolf boy out of the line of attack, and Ace darted forward, shifting into a shadowy form to swipe at the mage. Though the attack barely scratched him, it forced the Moon Mage to step back, his red and gold eyes narrowing in irritation.
Taking advantage of the moment, Arlon backed away, clutching the wolf boy to his chest. He could feel the boy's faint heartbeat, the fragile life within him barely hanging on.
Plop—
As another cultist fell, Lawrence stole a glance around, his thoughts momentarily flickering to Arlon. The last he had seen of him, Arlon had been dealing with the cages, and he hadn't had time to follow.
Worry pricked at Lawrence's mind. Is he holding up? he wondered. Despite their overwhelming numbers, he knew how relentless the Pry cultists could be.
Lawrence tightened his grip on his sword, his unease sharpening with every moment that passed. "I'm going to find Arlon," he said firmly, his voice low but resolute. Anthony gave him a quick nod, trusting him without question as Lawrence broke away from the battle, his sharp eyes scanning the burning ruins.
The fighting intensified as Lawrence scanned the area, looking for Arlon amidst the rubble and smoke.
Thump— Thump—
Arlon's heart pounded as he found a small sheltered nook among the roots of a massive tree, gently placing the unconscious wolf boy there, hidden from sight. He brushed a strand of hair from the boy's face, murmuring, "Stay here. I'll come back for you." But as he straightened up, his resolve turned into an iron determination.
Turning back, Arlon's mind raced through every encounter from the novel he could remember about the Moon Mage—his power, his style, his merciless nature. This wasn't just a fight for survival; it was a test of everything Arlon knew, everything he could muster.
"Alright, Ace," Arlon whispered, swallowing hard as he returned to the open area. "Let's hold him off."
Ace flicked his tail, his red eyes gleaming with a fierce light as he shifted back to his small, cat-like form. "Are you ready to accept the power of the Sky Soul Dragon?" Ace asked, his voice quiet yet charged with intensity.
The Moon Mage had been waiting, a twisted smile of amusement on his face as Arlon approached. His voice was calm, mocking. "Coming back alone? Do you think that little show of defiance will make a difference?" He raised his hand, and dark tendrils of energy gathered around it, twisting and coiling like living serpents.
Arlon took a steadying breath and nodded, a determined fire igniting within him. "I'm ready."
"Let's see what you're made of." His voice dripped with disdain as he unleashed the tendrils, sending them slithering through the air toward Arlon with terrifying speed.
Arlon sidestepped, feeling the dark magic slice through the space where he'd stood a heartbeat ago. He dodged another set of attacks, barely managing to keep himself out of harm's way, but he knew he couldn't just keep running.
Ace leapt onto Arlon's shoulder, his form melding into the shadows curling around Arlon's neck. A sharp, searing pulse struck Arlon's chest as his heart thundered against his ribs. He gasped, his senses overwhelmed as raw, electric power coursed through his veins, hot and volatile, as though lightning itself had chosen him as its vessel.
A raw, untamed force surged through him, scorching his veins with an intensity that felt like molten fire and crackling thunder. It wasn't just power—it was chaos, a force too vast for his body to contain.
Shook—
Dark, swirling energy began to surround them, forming a vortex of black and dark purple mist, crackling with raw, untamed energy. It spiraled upward, forming a faint hurricane that tore through the air, casting an ominous shadow across the forest.
Fsssh—
Above them, dark clouds gathered, thickening and swirling, streaked with flashes of lightning that illuminated the sky with bursts of violet and silver.
Meanwhile, not far from the scene, Lawrence was combing through the battlefield, searching for Arlon and Ace. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw the stormy clouds gathering, the familiar chaotic energy crackling through the air. It reminded him of the stormy mountain, a place known for the fierce and unpredictable power of the Sky Soul Dragon.
"Arlon…" he murmured, realizing that Arlon was drawing on Ace's power. His urgency spiked, and he quickened his pace, determination etched into his face.
As he sprinted through the scorched remains of the battlefield, Lawrence's sharp eyes caught a faint movement among the roots of a massive tree. His breath hitched as he knelt, his hands brushing away ash and dirt to reveal the unconscious wolf boy. Relief surged through him as he pressed two fingers to the boy's neck, feeling the faint but steady pulse beneath his fingertips.
"You're alive," Lawrence murmured, his voice tinged with quiet determination. "And I'll make sure you stay that way."
As he carefully lifted the boy into his arms, the child's eyes fluttered open, a faint, searching expression in his gaze. The wolf boy's gaze scanned the battlefield, as if looking for the person who had saved him, who now stood facing the Moon Mage in the heart of the storm.
Lawrence tightened his hold, his voice soft but firm. "Don't worry. He's still out there." With that, Lawrence turned and began making his way toward the swirling, stormy clouds ahead, driven by a fierce determination to find Arlon and Ace.
Back in the clearing, Arlon felt the power surging through him, fueling his muscles, sharpening his senses, as the storm around him grew wild. He felt like he was standing at the edge of a precipice, staring into the vast, dark abyss of Ace's strength.
The Moon Mage's eyes flickered with intrigue, a slight smile playing on his lips as he watched Arlon with a twisted fascination. "So you're drawing on that dragon's power? Interesting. But you're still just a child playing with forces beyond your control."
Arlon clenched his fists, feeling the energy pulse in his veins. He forced himself to focus, centering his mind on the battle, the need to hold this mage at bay for as long as possible. "We'll see if you can still call me a child after this."
Woooosh—
The Moon Mage's hand shot forward, and dark energy erupted like a tidal wave, rushing toward Arlon with the force of an avalanche. But this time, Arlon didn't flinch. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hand, summoning the storm's fury. Violet lightning erupted from his palm, crashing against the dark wave with a deafening roar. The resulting shockwave tore through the clearing, shaking the earth and scattering sparks into the air like shattered stars.
The mage's smile faltered, his glowing eyes narrowing with cold calculation. "So, the weakling has teeth after all," he murmured, his tone mocking yet laced with intrigue. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, almost predatory. "Let's see how long that spark of yours can hold out before I snuff it out."
The battlefield erupted in chaos as dark energy and violet lightning collided in midair, spiraling together in a violent storm of destruction. Each clash sent shockwaves rippling outward, shattering nearby trees and scorching the earth. The air crackled with power, each strike brighter, louder, more desperate as the storm consumed the clearing.
But the Moon Mage was relentless, adapting to Arlon's rhythm, his attacks growing sharper, more focused. In a swift movement, he summoned a vortex of dark flames that spiraled around him, the heat searing through the air as he directed it toward Arlon.
Arlon planted his feet, every muscle in his body trembling as he summoned the storm's energy. His hands crackled with lightning, the air around him rippling with wind and fury. With a roar, he thrust his arms forward, the tempest colliding with the dark flames in a dazzling explosion of violet light.
Fsssh—
Panting, Arlon steadied himself, his eyes meeting the mage's.
Arlon's breaths came in ragged gasps, his limbs trembling as the weight of Ace's power bore down on him. Every move felt like dragging a storm through his veins—potent but heavy, unyielding. The strength it gave him was exhilarating, but the toll was unbearable, like a fire threatening to burn him alive from the inside out.
"Is this what you call power?" the Moon Mage sneered, his mismatched eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "You're nothing but a vessel—fragile, trembling, and barely holding together. Shall we see how long you last before you shatter?"
Arlon gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He glanced at Ace, who had perched back on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the mage. "Ace, we have to give it everything we've got. One final push."
Ace's red eyes gleamed, his tone sharper than usual. "You've got one chance, kid. Don't waste it. Or do—and I'll be free of this mess sooner than later."