The soldier tried to make Merlin turn away from the fight below, but the young stood over the broken fissure of the Head Maester’s office. His eyes trembled seeing the chaos unfold below, unable to do anything to change it. He tightened his hands into a fist and fell on his knees, tears streaming from his face. It would seem no matter how hard he trained, no matter how dedicated he was to become strong, he would be left behind because of his lack of power. A fact he had denied all this time, a fact he was beginning to accept… Accept? Why would he accept such a thing! They don’t know who he truly is: how strong he could be! The mysterious man said so himself. If he could tap into the hidden demonic power he always had, then everyone would respect him. Maybe then he would grasp how it feels for others to fear him. Yes, he needed to succumb to this desire and strive for true power…!
Merlin gasped, covering his mouth. “These… are not my thoughts! No-no-no…! I would never accept power that came from evil.”
Was it surely evil? Does being born from a wicked origin make one automatically evil? Does it even matter? He only desired to become strong, like everyone else. A desire fulfilled when he lets go of this foolish dichotomy.
“No, I won’t and never will! Get out of my head!”
The young man bashed his head on the floor beneath him. The voice in his head grew louder and louder until all was silent. Merlin slowly turned his head to the side, his eyes stricken with fear. A splitting image of himself kneeled next to him: skin pale as snow, irises red like blood, and a devilish smile across their face.
“I will no longer linger in the shadows. My time is… now!” it said.
Merlin’s body convulsed. The cracking of bones echoed across the hall chamber. The two soldiers behind him were shocked. One came up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, kid, you all right?! What’s going on with you?!” one soldier said.
Merlin faced them and the soldier recoiled back in fear. The other soldier unsheathed his blade and charged forward. Within taking two steps, the soldier fell to their knees as blood poured all over the area. A bloodied helmet rolled over the living soldier.
“Oh… it feels great to be… me!” Merin? said. “HAHAHA! To Kill, COnSumE, aNd coNQUERor! SucH aRE THe wayS oF tHiS WOrlD!”
The remaining soldier tried to crawl away, hoping to escape. Merlin? transformed the nearby blood into a sword, piercing the unfortunate soul at their heart. He lifted them up and, after a moment, the person exploded. Guts and blood sprayed all over and with a smile, the young boy relished in it. He tossed the empty armor away and walked to the destroyed wall of the office. A reflection started back at him on broken glass to his left. His skin littered his black scales, his eyes blackened with a glowing gold serpent-like iris, and his smiling expression with blood across his face.
“thiS… iS True POWer! ThOsE Who hAvE WROngEd Us wiLl pay anD yOU, dear MeRLIn, WILL WAtch!”
Gloria fought on against Fighter and Leader. Both were ruthless with their barrage of attacks, each fighting in ways not familiar to her. Despite casting a vast number of spells, the battle did not tip to her scale. Fighter would shatter her defensive barriers with her fist. Her being an arms-length away during the entire engagement prevented Gloria from concentrating on her best spells. The chained swords from Leader continually lashed from a distance, leaving no openings. Separating them was the best option she had, so an idea came through her head.
She crossed her arms, her fingers sparking in mana. When she thrust her arms to the side, several light blue arcane circles formed beneath her. Large spikes of ice erupted from the ground, forcing Fighter to retreat. From the split second she saw the disengage, she lifted her finger to Quick Cast a spell. The earth was ripped apart, latching itself onto their target. Fighter fell to the ground, unable to move to the magical restraints. Leader saw this and rushed to her comrade’s aid. An enormous wall of fire blocked to her path, circling around her. She and Gloria were inside, one-on-one.
“Do you really think you two can win against me? I was considered the strongest mage in Damore,” Gloria said. “You never stood a chance.”
Leader slightly lowered her head. “The hostile encounter was unexpected. I should have considered such an event could happen.”
“What a pity. Now you will die here, as well as your punching friend over there when I’m done with you.”
“So be it.”
Gloria unleashed her barrage of spells, summoning all the elements available at her disposal. Leader swiftly dodged them all despite the small space, using her lightning-fast reflexes. She whipped her chained swords to counterattack whenever she had the chance. Her best efforts came to naught as the earth wrapped itself around her weapon, preventing any more of their use. Leader charged, continuing to avoid the attacks as much as she can. As all seemed lost, she closed in the gap between them and her arm reached out. Her hands wrapped around the arm of Gloria, the Head Maester staring at her in confusion.
“Hmph, I commend you attempts to reach me, but it is futile.”
Gale winds pierced Leader’s body and her hood was unveiled. Straight, flowing blue hair fluttered against the gust and slender brown eyes met with Gloria’s. A bright smile was on her face as she spoke in a prideful tone. “I, Aiza Sokei, have defeated the strongest mage in Damore! Remember my name before you die, Gloria Ambrosius!”
The winds continued to cut her into pieces, leaving only limbs, guts, and organs on the floor. A splatter of blood grazed Gloria’s face, and she went to wipe it. She looked down at her hand, seeing it drip from her finger tips.
“A fitting end to your villainy. Farewell, Aiza Sokei.”
She turned to face Fighter, only to see Aiza standing in front of her. With her magic, she killed her again. However, no matter how many times she died, she always came back as if nothing happened. Gloria became furious, casting all she had to kill her, but it all came to naught. A piercing sensation came through the center of her waist. She looked down to see one of Aiza’s chained blades stained in her blood.
“H-How…?” Gloria trembled.
“Transcendent Illusion. I control all of your senses the moment our skins touched. It’s over.”
A bright light shined behind her and when it faded, the weapon was pulled out of her body. Aiza stared down at the roped crystal, seeing it filled with the Head Maester’s boundless mana. Fighter got out from the earthly restraints and regrouped with her. She looked down at the seemingly lifeless Gloria, shaking her head.
“It didn’t have to be this way… She was just trying to protect her kid,” Fighter said.
“I know it all too well, Aifa. It is somber to see it repeat before my very eyes.”
“You’ve been through this before?”
Aiza shook her head. “It’s nothing. Our mission is complete. The others will regroup with us soon.”
She took out a strange rod from her pockets, striking it on the ground and raised it at the sky. A projectile shot out from the other end, later exploding in a bright red and green. Samurai and Lancer came seconds later, sheathing their weapons.
“I am very disappointed in you two.” Aiza looked at Samurai. “Especially at you, Genyru Tanaka. I see upholding your ‘samurai honor’ is up in your rear when you took the child hostage.”
“Forgive me, Master Aiza. Octavia’s foul ego is seeping into my mind. I will not do such again,” Genryu said, looking at Lancer.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Where I come from, we would do anything to win. As a matter of fact, I defeated the Phoenix of Damore. What a pity I’d face such disappointment.”
Aiza let out a sigh. “This is no time to discuss. Come, let us—”
Before she could finish her words, the entire area around them exploded. The four leaped out of harm’s way and gathered together to face their new opponent. When the dust settled, a person with white hair and a strange fox mask was in front of them. Without muttering another word, the white-haired stranger continued his magical attacks.
“We must leave, now!” Aiza commanded.
Genryu threw down circular shells, releasing smoke to cover their escape. As they turned tail, the stranger flicked his hand, and a familiar was propelled at Aiza. It latched itself on to her cloak and the four disappeared into the night. The white stranger took off the mask, revealing their face. It was Aren, of course, and he stared out into the night. Blood poured from his mouth and eyes, but he did not care about his physical state.
“Tch, damn it. So much for that. Looks like they got what they wanted. Ow, ow, I can feel my face ripping apart…”
He turned to see Gloria covered in her own blood. Quickly he went to her side, healing her wounds as much as she can. Miraculously, she was alive, but needed medical attention as soon as possible. More Academy guards came by and immediately took her into their own hands.
“Where’s Layette? The Phoenix of Damore? And the boy, Merlin?” he asked one soldier.
“I do not know, sir. There were no survivors from that vicious attack, so we be best looking for the Phoenix of Damore. The boy was to be under our supervision, but has yet to show up, as well as two of our own who was supposed to bring him.”
“That does not bode well.” He closed his eye and used his magical senses to find him. Everything around him dulled into black and white, and pulses of yellow energy radiated out from where he stood. In his subconscious, he saw the different colored hues of those living beside him and beyond. He sensed three energies within the Hall of Institution: two blue, one in an overpowering red. After taking a deep breath, he began his way to the location. The soldier stopped him, gesturing for a healer to come by.
“Sir, you are hurt. Please do not move until we examine your injuries.”
“I am fine. Tend to your comrades and the Head Maester.” Aren’s face darkened as he continued to walk forward. “There’s something I need taken care of. I’ll finish what needs to be done.”
