AtFC Chapter 58 - The Void (Patreon)

The darkness seemed to press closer, responding to Zoltran’s words. It was nice to finally let loose. To show the world exactly what he'd always been.

Ancient. Powerful. And very, very protective of what he'd sworn to guard.

He could sense Victor trying to open a spatial channel, desperately sending mana around him. It was futile, of course. In the void, there was nowhere to go. It was a space of its own, a prison nothing could escape.

“Are you mad?!” Klum yelled. He took a defensive stance, gathering mana at his fingertips. “We are members of the Council! This won’t go unpunished!”

"Living in the same place for four thousand years for the sake of an oath, and then being told I am no longer needed…" Zoltran's voice was almost conversational, which somehow made it more threatening. "Yes, I am a bit mad."

"Let us out of this domain!" Klum's hands were shaking now, barely controlling his own mana.

“No. Not before you answer my questions." Zoltran tilted his head, looking over at Victor. “You can stop trying to teleport, this place isn’t connected to the space you know.”

He could sense Victor's continued attempts, with mana reaching into the nothingness without any effect.

“We have no obligation to—”

"Klum, let's just kill this guy." Victor's voice cut through the darkness, cold and pragmatic. No more pretense of diplomacy. "Without the research, he's of no use to us anyway."

Zoltran smiled. The mere thought of losing to these amateurs was quite humorous. “The beating first, then? I must say, I prefer it this way.”

Let’s see, how do I make sure they survive? They should be able to handle this much at least, right?

Zoltran slowly lifted his hand, palm facing down. The gesture was almost gentle, like he was reaching to pet a dog. Then he forced it down in a swift motion, and everything changed. 

The two mages started casting spells of their own, but were interrupted by a massive force pressing down on them from above. The pressure hit like a physical thing, crushing and absolute.

“Aahhh!” Klum struggled against the force, forced to the ground on one knee. His robes now looked more like chainmail, pulling his shoulders painfully down.

Victor wasn't doing much better, hunched and trembling, but of the two, he seemed less bothered. His jaw clenched so tightly that Zoltran could hear his teeth grinding, yet he was still standing. Barely.

“Ceritax!” Victor yelled. Immediately, his robes began to shine a bright white, with flames flickering across the surface.

The flame seemed to consume the mana of Zoltran's magic, eating away at the pressure, letting Victor move freely again. His shoulders straightened, and his breathing eased.

Ah, that’s the pure flame. So Ceritax is the name of its spirit. Interesting…

Victor wasted little time once freed from the pressure, quickly summoning a small device from his index and infusing it with mana. A formation circle formed around his hand, and immediately after, a beam of concentrated flame shot toward Zoltran.

The beam was white-hot, leaving afterimages burned into Zoltran's vision.

Ooh, new technology! Automatic formation casting—that has so many applications.

The fire would likely hurt, so Zoltran flicked his hand and created a cylinder of red between them. The beam entered the crimson barrier and slowed down immediately, just like Felicia’s spinning light had done. It would take hours before the attack pierced through.

“Nice attack, Victor!" Zoltran's tone was almost encouraging, like a teacher praising a student's effort. “Do you want to send one as well, Klum? Or should I go again?”

Klum was in no shape to even reply, now down on both knees. His face was flushed red, sweat pouring down his face in sheets. It seemed he was the lesser threat of the two, contrary to what their ages would suggest.

You only sent one archmage to face me, Council? Now I am insulted.

"Klum! I have to activate it!" Victor's voice was urgent, finally understanding how outclassed they were.

Klum could only nod in response, but that was all Victor needed. He closed his eyes in concentration, then his mana began to spike. Dramatically, it increased far beyond what it should be capable of. The pressure in the void changed, turning almost electric with power.

Oh? More tricks? Or… Don’t tell me…

Zoltran's intuition proved correct as glowing patterns began to appear across Victor's body. They emerged through his skin like brands, pulsing with blue-white light. Unfamiliar patterns, but definitely formations. The kind that should never exist on human flesh.

Zoltran felt his jaw tighten. So that’s why they wanted the research notes… Perhaps they were behind the research in the first place.

Now the only question remaining was, had someone managed to intercept his message and disguise themselves as Council members, or had the Council itself turned so rotten as to allow such a thing?

Victor disappeared, moving lightning-fast through the empty space surrounding them. His speed was enhanced beyond natural limits by the formations burning on his skin. He reappeared in flickers, attacking Zoltran with a fist coated in white flame. It approached with the intent to kill, aimed straight at his head.

The heat of the flame reached Zoltran before the fist did, hot enough to make the air shimmer.

“Montiux.”

The single word changed the fight. Stopped the fight.

The fist froze inches from Zoltran's head. Victor's eyes went wide with shock and the beginning of fear. Then he was crushed into the ground like an insect, splayed out flat. His chest pressed against the void's floor, making it nearly impossible for him to breathe. The white fire went out with a hiss, but the glowing formations on his hands remained.

‘Ah, finally you call me again! You fight too rarely, Zoltran!’

The spirit's voice was delighted, echoing from everywhere and nowhere. Montiux was one of his first spirits, always eager for conflict.

"Oh, I would hardly call this fighting. But thanks for helping, Montiux." 

Zoltran bent down to look at Victor, following the lines on his skin. Then he flicked a finger, tearing Victor's robe to shreds. The fabric separated cleanly, falling away in strips, leaving his torso exposed.

The glowing formations were spread across his entire body, only leaving his head alone. Different from the ones on the twins, but still similar. The same fundamental problems, and even signs of internal damage spreading from the thickest lines. Blackened clots of blood.

“You two have some serious explaining to do.” His voice was cold now, no longer playful or intrigued. “You can let me know when you’re ready to talk by deactivating the formations on your body. Until then, enjoy the mountain pressing down on you.”

Victor’s face was pressed flat against the ground, distorted by the pressure. His cheek and jaw spread unnaturally wide, his nose crushed sideways, and not a finger could move.

But he remained stubborn, barely breathing through the pressure. His eyes, visible from the side, burned with defiance.

“Hmm… Well, hopefully you change your mind before bones start breaking.” 

Zoltran turned to Klum, who was still kneeling, panting and sweating on the ground. "I hope you can prove you are from the Council. Otherwise, you're of no use to me."

Klum seemed ready to talk, losing his loyalty when death was right in front of him. 

Zoltran lessened the pressure on him slightly, allowing his chest to expand. Enough for him to breathe properly, at least. The older man gasped, sucking in air greedily.

“We… we are from the Council…” Klum struggled to speak, panting heavily between each set of words. “You can ask… anything you know…”

“What is the Council’s oath?”

Klum let out an extra heavy breath between the already heavy ones, seemingly in frustration, which was understandable given the length of the whole thing. 

“We who hide in… in the shadows, we… swear to keep the… peace and work to… maintain the world as… its secret guardians…”

The words came out in fragments, broken by gasps, but they were correct. Every ancient phrase in its proper place.

"Fine, that's enough." Zoltran took a deep breath, trying to process this. He glanced over at Victor again, still pressed flat, still glowing with those damned runes. 

"So you are from the Council… Then what the hell is all this? Why are you using illegal experimentation to grow in power, and why are you attacking the world seal? These actions go directly against your oath!"

“...We have chosen… to search for… our only chance at… survival…”

A chill ran down Zoltran’s back. The only chance at survival was a terribly good reason to do something, and it could certainly make sense of their actions. 

But what could be such a grave threat that they dismiss even the world serpent and mermaid queen?

“Survival from what threat?” His voice came out quieter than intended, almost afraid of the answer.

“The gods.”

The voice, impossibly, came from behind him. Perfectly calm, perfectly clear, and completely unfamiliar.

Every instinct Zoltran had cultivated over four millennia screamed danger.

He reacted immediately, faster than thought, erecting all the defenses he could muster around himself. A thick shield of the slowing red surrounded him, then an emerald barrier closer to his skin. Finally, he reinforced his entire body with thick mana, turning his small form into something tougher than steel.

This is unexpected.

Zoltran closed his eyes, instead using his mana vision to look outside the protection.

Victor was nowhere to be seen. But a new man had appeared next to where he had been lying on the floor, standing as if he'd always been there. A man dressed in simple grey, but with a pristine white hat.

Ah, so the heads of the Council still have tricks I don’t know.

The white hat represented one of the seven highest seats in the Council, the ones making every decision. The true powers behind the shadow government. The old turtle had been one of them, centuries ago, and millennia ago.

But it should have been impossible for anyone to break into the void without his permission. And the same for anyone escaping.

“Now this is intriguing,” Zoltran said, turning to face this new man. He was young for his position, with blonde hair and clear green eyes behind a pair of glasses. “I always believed this space to be separated from the outside world.”

"Not completely." The man's voice was pleasant, without a trace of fear. "It did take me a while, but Victor's formations helped me a great deal."

Ah, that explains his reluctance to give in. But even so, this man must have an incredible understanding of space.

Even the spatial prodigy, Marie, had never managed to escape the void those few times he felt a need to scold her. Though she didn’t have any formations to assist her.

“The gods, you say… Do you have any proof?”

"Not that I can show you, no." The man adjusted his glasses with one finger. “At best, I can try to convince you.”

"Ah, now that you understand the extent of my power, I might be of use?" The pieces were clicking together now.

"Precisely." The man smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Or rather, it would be an issue should you fight against us."

Oh, how I hate fighting spatial mages like you. Always confident, in escaping if nothing else.

Zoltran barely sensed any power from the man, so he doubted there was any risk in fighting. The only issue was that he would disappear the moment a fight started, leaving no chance to learn more.

“...Feel free to convince me, then.”

“We will. You only have to wait for the right time.” He raised his arm in a wave. “See you later, guardian.”

Before Zoltran could respond, the man was gone, bringing Klum along with him. Not a sound, no flash of light, nothing.

Zoltran sighed, breaking the void and the layers of protection surrounding him. He did not believe the man’s words for a second—the gods had only ever helped the world, and only in the minor ways they could.

The far more likely scenario was that someone had convinced the Council that a disaster was coming. A different one than the many Artorias had mentioned.

“...Artorias, my friend, how many disasters do the gods want you to stop? This makes three…”

Ch.57 --I-- Ch.59