Vol. 2 Ch. 2: Runic Casting vs Spell Casting

Recurring Characters: 

Sabine d'Alric: Baroness and the Knight Commander of Draymore County. Count Draymore often sends her away due to his fear of her motivations. 

Darian: A young warrior who is in a leadership role in her contingent. 

Ilyana: A mage in the service of Sabine. 

Thomelin: High priest of Avaris in the Draymore County. An old man.  

Edited and beta/proofread by Snazzycub.

...
Thomas closed his eyes, tapped into his reserves, and guided a trickle of mana into his Divination Skill. He gasped as the skill hummed to life. He observed cracks forming on the world around him with a slight crease between his eyebrows. The cracks expanded. The world shattered—like glass, leaving Thomas grounded in a dark void. He remained motionless, his breath rising and falling in an even rhythm. Despite the vertigo assaulting his mind, Thomas was unfazed and nudged his skill with hardened will.

The skill relented, after consuming more mana from his pool. Thomas felt his senses expand into the void in his vicinity through his skill. Darkness abated. Barely, but enough for him to notice a vast web of glowing threads. Spread far and wide, the web was connected to everything. It was the web woven from the threads of fate.

Thomas pushed his desires into his skill. He was conscious of his rapidly depleting mana reserves. He watched as the void slowly consumed countless threads back into its embrace, leaving only a few of them visible around him. Thomas took a deep breath and stepped forward. With shaking hands, he reached for the threads and grasped.

The moment his fingers touched the threads, Thomas’s head rolled backwards. His mouth opened in a silent scream. Glistening droplets – his tears rolled on his cheeks from the influx of information. Visions came and went. After an unknown amount of time, his mind could no longer endure the strain and stopped the skill. The visions ended with the skill. Thomas opened his eyes with a shaky breath, having fallen to the ground at some point.

“Are you alright, Thomas?” Sabine asked, leaning forward. He turned toward her with a confused expression, face still wet with hot tears. Sabine pursed her lips when he remained silent. “Thomas?” she repeated, with furrowed brows.

“Y-Yes…apologies, Dame,” Thomas said, wiping his face as he stood up. “Fate-based skills tend to leave their users helpless like this even in the best of times. I will be fine in a matter of minutes.”

“That is good to hear,” Sabine nodded, fixing her posture. “Did your skill reveal anything concerning that we should keep in mind?”

While they were talking, the others prepared for battle. They tightened their armour and readied their weapons for the upcoming assault. Thomas shook his head, “No, my lady. No signs of anything potentially threatening to the contingent. Though I would caution against relying too much on the skill.”

“Let your mind not be burdened,” Sabine said, a refreshing smile on her face. “I am most aware regarding the shortcomings of a skill so deeply rooted in the fickle domain of fate.”

“Go now–make your preparations,” she said, half suggesting, half ordering him, before nudging the bird to the front of the contingent. Ilyana and Thomelin guided their mounts into position, taking up spots just a step behind her. Sabine stood tall, facing the silent village. She held the reins of her Titanis Walleri in her left hand and gripped her mithril sword in her right. Her waist-long, wheat-colored hair fluttered in the breeze, revealing the emblem emblazoned on the shield strapped to her back.

“My fellow warriors,” she said, loud and clear, her face firm with resolve. “The hour of action has come. We have failed this village in our absence,” she continued, each word empowered by the Aura of Command. “But today, we shall purge this land of the filth that dared trespass upon the human domain—so it shall spread no farther!” Weapons were brandished. Chests were thumped. War cries were uttered. All in response to her words.

“High priest!” Sabine thundered. Thomelin answered her call by weaving symbols with his hands. A crease formed between his eyes, despite Thomelin’s mastery in rune casting. The art required his complete focus.

Like a tidal wave, Thomelin’s authority expanded beyond him, submerging all the humans. His mana reserves steadily decreased as his skill Mantle of Resolve provided a temporary buff to each person’s constitution, agility and strength. The contingent was used to the buffs, but an uproar spread among the villagers under Darian’s command.

“Silence!” he said, his voice sharp as his blade.

"Charge!" Sabine roared, leading the advance. Her contingent followed in her wake, leaving the villagers trailing at the rear. Ilyana gripped her staff and channelled mana to the gem at its top, prepared to cast spells at a moment's notice.

The groups travelled at a consistent pace, decreasing the distance to the village. The perimeter loomed ahead as the first obstacle. Sabine was prepared. “Ilyana!” she barked, with clenched jaw.

“Let mana be the fuel to ignite my burning will into an inferno, shaped as a lance: Inferno Lance!” she cast, pointing her staff at the barricade. A ball of fire manifested above the gem, which slowly grew larger. Ilyana grimaced, feeling a headache hitting her head like a sledgehammer. The spell was demanding. Flames grew using four/fifth of her mana as ember. She narrowed her eyes, feeling the heat on her face. Ilyana struggled to balance herself atop her mount as it tried to distance itself from the heat.

“Just a second, dear.” She cooed, patting the bird’s back. Seconds after that, the flaming ball morphed into a lance made up of a burning inferno under her will. Filled with latent potential, the spell was held in place by her will. Ilyana grunted and hurled the flaming lance at the wall made of wooden logs. The lance travelled much faster than the group, slamming into the wall in the blink of an eye. A loud explosion followed, opening up a large enough space in the wall for the squad to enter the village unimpeded.

…

Sabine stared at the carcasses scattered across the village, her lips set in a grim line. A sickly stench clung to the air, thick and sour from the week-old corpses. Behind her, villagers clamped hands over their mouths as bile rose in their throats. Many turned away, eyes watering, bodies wracked with dry heaves. Her warriors, hardened by battle, endured the scene in silence.

“This isn’t what we expected to find,” Ilyana muttered beside her, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Sweat beaded on her forehead, a clear sign of exhaustion. She fumbled with the utility belt fastened around her hip and pulled out a mana potion. After a deep breath, she raised the vial to her lips. Eyes squeezed shut, she tipped the liquid into her mouth and shivered at the bitter taste.

“Where are the human corpses?” Darian enquired, his voice filled with confusion.

“Shouldn’t you be at the rear, Ser Darian?” Ilyana teasingly asked, wiping her forehead.

“It appeared to me that there would be no battle after witnessing this sight,” Darian said, waving at the vicinity. “What are your orders, Dame?” He turned his face to Sabine.

“You must have patience, Ser Darian.” Sabine sighed, noticing the fire in his eyes. “I do sympathise with your situation. It is natural for your fellow warriors to doubt your capability to lead them. You are much younger than they are.”

“Go back to your position, young man,” Thomelin kindly added. “Don’t let your eagerness turn into foolishness. Look around you. Human corpses are missing. Where did they go? Who killed these kobolds? Go back.”

Darien lowered his head and gave a quick nod before silently returning to his position. Looking at his back, Thomelin said, “The lad has potential. He just needs to put his head in the right place.”

Thomelin shifted his posture and said, “I fear that the absence of human corpses has something to do with the abyssal mana in the air. These kobolds were either killed by villagers or died after the ritual took place.” He pulled a cloth to cover his nose, his face twisted in disgust at the abhorrent mana in the vicinity.

Filled with curiosity, Ilyana turned her face up and stared above the houses with her Mana Sense. Ambient mana swirled like a cyclone, intermingled with foreign mana, with the village centre as the eye of the storm. “The cause is likely at the centre of the village,” she said, feeling the urge to investigate.

“Let us move towards the centre then,” Sabine said, leaning forward. Her mount felt the shift in her weight and galloped forward with a cry. The rest followed behind in formation. The group followed the path, sometimes turning left or right, finding the whole village barren and filled with silence.

‘If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed it to be a kobold settlement,’ Sabine thought, detecting no signs of human life throughout the route. After only a minute of travel, the group encountered the village square at the end of the path.

Sabine alighted from her Titanis Walleri and strolled forward before getting down on her knees and grabbing a handful of dirt in her palm. She pursed her lips, feeling the moisture and softness of the soil. “Freshly dug,” she mumbled, rose and turned around.

“Something is buried here,” she said, addressing the waiting crowd. “Ser Darian,” She barked.

“Yes, Dame,” Darian said from his position in the back.

“I want this whole square dug. Make it happen,” she said, her voice hard as steel. After receiving his agreement, Sabine turned her face to Ilyana, “Make groups of five and search every house in the village. If anyone finds something suspicious, report to me.”

“As you command,” Ilyana nodded, bowed to her before following her instructions.

“High priest,” Sabine said, a touch of respect in her tone. “Please guide me to the origin point of this foul mana.”

Thomelin nodded and carefully dismounted from his mount. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, after fixing his clothes. “We won’t have to go far,” he added, pointing at the house directly in front of the square with a shaking finger.

Sabine followed alongside the high priest, her mithril sword ready to defend them both as they made their way across the square. Both of them stopped ten steps from it. The house was abandoned, like the rest. "Do you sense it likewise?" Sabine asked, with narrowed eyes. Goosebumps travelled across her skin. Her heart beat faster the longer she stood in front of the house.

Thomelin nodded with a grimace. “Not as strong as you. My spirit stat is higher than yours.”

“We are of a similar mind, then?” Sabine said, glancing at him.

“Yes. These are the effects of a clash of souls. Two very powerful souls, if the effects have persisted for this long.” Thomelin sighed.

“We are outmatched, High Priest. This is no longer within our grasp. Those of the Third Tier are beyond us.” Sabine remarked, stepping away. She shook her head, “The Lives of my warriors are mine to safeguard. Confronting such beings is suicide.”

“We may not have to.” Thomelin muttered after he surveyed the vicinity with mana sense. Sabine stopped in her tracks and turned around to face him. Her face sporting a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I can’t be fully sure, but signs are pointing towards a clash between a creature of the abyss and someone from our realm,” he said, spreading his arms wide. Sabine followed his example and surveyed the area with mana sense.

“Creatures of the abyss are not known to be of right mind, Dame,” Thomelin said, face twisted in repulsion. “If the creature had won, it would have sought destruction beyond the village.”

“Other villages are safe,” Sabine muttered, sensing his logic.

“Yes. My guess is, a summoning took place and it attracted the attention of some kind soul that decided to take care of the creature before it could spread more devastation.” Thomelin said in a fervent tone.

“Pardon me, High Priest,” Sabine sighed. “You are overly hopeful in this matter. What if the summoning took place, the creature rebelled, and was thereafter subdued by the summoner’s hand? A cult may well be behind it. The Abyss lacks not for devotees, despite the Templars’ tireless purge.”

“Dame! High Priest! You must see this,” Darian yelled from behind. Both turned to look behind.

...End Of Chapter...