The Mus Insidias spell that swayed his internal organs did not deter John Philo from his destination: the doorway. If anything, he was even more provoked to release his ire on the wicked in the building.
Three wizards were standing in front of the door, bombarding him with an unceasing magic blast from their wands. “Do not ever let him enter the bunker!” screamed one of the wizards.
John Philo had altered his skin substance to steel from the seven-cavity tablet case that became his material palette. Magic shots were inferior to his ever-thick steel coating, but the heavy nature of the steel slowed his movements. The wizards, seeing this advantage, quickly put together a powerful attack. While continuous shots and slowing spells affected the walking steel monument, another three wizards behind them were concocting strange yet simple potions from their portable alchemy kits. Small round glass bottle, filled with water, salt, and a block of the vinegar mixture. They enchanted the spell, “Creare!”, causing those liquid mixes to boil and their colour turned cream.
Those three alchemists then preceded the other three and threw the potion at the ascending John. The bottle shattered and it scalded his body. His appearance, sparkling gunmetal grey before, was now disgusting, brittle brown. Water, salt, and vinegar—the three corrosive materials, the scourge of metal. Through the mana being channelled through the spell, it advanced the oxidation process.
The rust on John’s body rendered him vulnerable at the drop of the hat. He quickly adopted a marble tile from the palettes and he was now a ceramic mannequin with average speed and defence. John Philo ran up as fast as he could and managed to blow one wizard away from the terrace.
But still, five magi remained. His focus shifted between attacking, defending, and enduring the pain of the barrier spell. John roared in pain as the wizards' magic continued to rain down upon him, fending off each spell as it came. With a sudden dart, he jabbed another mage in the face.
CRACK!
The impact of his fist was akin to a collision with solid marble, shattering senses into a fragmented haze. The hapless wizard tumbled down the stairs, concussed, and left in a stupor.
Four magi left, and more incantations were cast as swift as Thunderkeeper’s lightning, without even a moment of thought. They had no time to devise another strategy or seek more efficacious spells to subdue the Ceramic-Man in one table turn. They just did not want him discovering any openings that could be a boomerang for them. A series of magic fights and the middle-aged man could not withstand any more aggression. His marble coating cracked everywhere, to the point he had fallen to the ground. His skin was bruised and full of minor shot wounds.
And here they thought they had caught the serial carver. Alas, their hubris proved to be their downfall, rendering them sluggish to react when John deftly withdrew another essence from his woven sleeve—a sliver of fibre this time. John’s skin changed substance once again into a lump of kevlar. Lighter, but with bullet resistance no less strong than other materials. With the proficiency of a martial artist, John commenced a symphony of strikes, thrusts, and forceful impacts on the wizards one by one. Mercy was upon them, for the true sacrificial creatures lay confined within the fortified sanctum. It took a long time to subdue them all, as the offensive strength of kevlar was not as hard as marble or steel, but as the battle wore on it became clear that John had prepared his abilities long ago, a lesson for the imprudent not to underestimate even the seemingly buffoonish.
An exhausting fight indeed, John Philo thought as he surveyed the battlefield. He then checked his material palette—steel and marble flakes, fibre, polyethylene granules, gold, silver, and bronze powder.
"Three materials used. Cannot use them for the next hour," John contemplated.
He could not waste any more time, as the ghost of Esmer Philo hovered beside him, urging her father to fulfill his duty—whether it was the actual wandering soul, or the projection of John's delusions due to hormonal imbalance. John Philo forthwith stormed the entrance and strode inside.
***
Alicia froze for a moment after her teacher left the restaurant. Orb from inside the backpack delivered a plasma shock to pull Alicia back to the mortal realm.
You are already aware of the situation. Now, shall we save them, or shall we return home? Orb hummed to Alicia.
"Save them or go home? Are you mad? We're not going home," Alicia responded with determination. "I have pure Arcane and I understand how it works. I must save them and Mister Philo, no matter the cost."
Glad I didn’t choose the wrong person, Alicia!
What Alicia realised at the exact time was a brattle and boisterous sound from afar, coming from the magic facility. The restaurant customers had surveyed from the windows, the owner had contacted the civil guard units to investigate. Alicia, without further ado, got up and rushed out of the exit.
“Oi, dinnae go out there, ya rocket!” warned one of the customers. Too bad, the young girl became deaf. Alicia defied death once again to prove that she was worth that unique Divine Grace.
As Alicia reached the gate, she found the two gatekeepers had passed out at their post, and the six wizards lying unconscious around the stairs and entrance. John had entered and the battle could be heard continuing inside loud and clear. Just as she straight pierced through the barrier spell, mixed emotions and nausea hit her right away. An unfavourable post-menstrual syndrome before its time.
“Argh, bloody Mus Insidias!” She was furious while running as fast as she could before someone cast the Roasting Spell—although it was unlikely since John Philo was inside and no one wailing on fire since then.
Inside, John was busy immobilising a nearby wizard in a fairly spacious room. In front of them was an elevator and two stairs that adorned the left and right of the interior. The elevator was the access John needed to reach the bunker, but his efforts were halted by the wizards upstairs and downstairs casting spells at him.
The Kevlar-Man was at the end of his tether. The unlucky practitioner had to "marvel" their last moments watching themselves altered into the fibre weave!
And from that moment, John felt alive.
Being on the killing spree made him a sound, expressive human being, fulfilling the life purpose of an artist. A depressing chortle escaped from his mouth, knowing that people were blank canvases, ready to be filled with paint.
The Art Master alone was sufficient to overwhelm the elite mage units. Their anxious frown at each other was a signal of agreement to draw out their ultimate arsenal. One of the mages opened a small box containing ten tiny balls with a lustrous look. The design was too fancy for a weapon, like a blue ring jewel covered with a plant-patterned precious mineral. The mage then delivered the box to his upstairs colleagues.
Alicia entered the reception area and snuck into the main room where the fight was taking place. The elite wizards each laid claim to a sphere retrieved from the chest, clutching it tightly within their grasp until its fragile surface succumbed to pressure and released a faint wisp of ethereal azure smoke. And then, the crystals were thrown to the floor below. Alicia, an intrigued observer, witnessed the swift motion of these diminutive spheres. “What did they throw him with?”
John Philo the Kevlar-Man got his attention distracted by those tiny crystals rolling towards him. They started to beam light, showing great unstable turbulence.
BOOM!
The light outbursts enlivened the atmosphere on the ground floor! An astonished gawk from Alicia when the cerulean blasts were rendered in her eyesight. Now she learned why those wizards were part of the elite unit.
The Arcane grenades? Ellie's Wrath, that's absolute genius!
John roared in pain. “Damn you all! What kind of magic did you cast on me?”
Too bad he did not know anything about pure Arcane. Observing the situation, John forced himself to retreat.
“The culprit has weakened! Don’t waste your time! Such a small Arcane might won’t last for long!” one elite wizard screamed. Together, all the magi, both upstairs and downstairs, swung their wands wild abandon.
“Static Ligaveris!”
The tips of their wands emitted a bright red glow like burning charcoal, then extended and bound to the body of the marked one. John Philo was now constrained by dozens of folds of ligature! Screams of despair were heard—constant cursing and threatening to all practitioners.
Fergus, the wizard reeve of Trinketshore, was also present in the conflict, shouting, “Since you are unable to cooperate, we are forced to exterminate you!”
That utterance alone made the light-headed Alicia instantly forget about her vertigo. She knew what that meant; they would burn John Philo on the spot with a follow-up spell, the Urere spell.
“Bennett!” Fergus continued, “Recite, now!”
“Stop!”
All froze. Alicia rushed straight to them, becoming a barrier between the Magisterium Wizards and John Philo.
“Please, don’t execute him! He’s still in grief, so he couldnae rely on his common sense. I beg you to show him mercy!”
Alicia pleaded with them while holding her ached stomach, and the mages were wondering why on Earth there was a little lassie interfering in a dangerous battle.
Fergus recognised the girl right away. “You! You’re Alicia, right? The first daughter of Baron Trinketshore? For the sake of Silent Divine, what's in yer wee brain to sneak in here and interrupt the fight?”
“You are right! I am Alicia Crimsonmane, daughter of Donar, Baron Trinketshore. I am here to stop another bloodbath that has begun to plague Trinketshore. I beg you to order other wizards to lower their wands!” Alicia, of course, did this not solely for Mister John’s sake but also for her own, so those magi would not turn both of them into roasted ducks.
Fergus could not help but stare at the reckless girl. “If I’m not mistaken, a bunch of juveniles also fought Caleb Dune a few nights ago, and if I could trust my own eyes, I also saw someone like you attacking Caleb with a bowling ball! Dinnae tell me you were also involved in his death?”
“His—what? No! No way I’ve done such—“
“Hush! We’ll have the talk for another time. Now leave the territory at once! Do not interfere with the legal process! He’s nae yer art teacher anymore, Alicia. The Protos particle effect is already strong within him. No longer it is possible to reason with him. Moreover, the barrier spell has enough disturbed your mind!”
“I refuse! I—“ Alicia shook her head with a grimace. Argh, this damned barrier spell is driving me mad!
“...I know how to… c-completely remove the Protos’ influence. That’s if... if only you could turn off this bloody Mus Insidias Spell!”
The wizards were getting more and more curious about the young girl’s proclamation. How did she even come up with a solution to remove the influence of Protos? Let alone had the power of pure Arcane, even she was known as a Magicless among all her magus relatives!
All the distractions made them overlook The Art Master, John Philo, who felt his Khaos magic recovered. From his right hand bound on his back, he slowly drew his palette out, tapping the granules of polyethene in a scrupulous manner. His skin then turned into another bullet-proof plastic polymer in a flash!
“Alicia, watch out!”
Alicia's gaze shifted towards John Philo, who clenched the entangled bindings of the magicians in his hands. With an impressive display of strength, he forcefully yanked on those constricting tethers, causing some of the spellcasters to plummet to the floor below, while a few dropped their staffs in a desperate bid to avoid doom. In a swift and alarming turn of events, he seized Alicia by the neck, and as a grim warning, a small section of her neck's skin transmuted into polyethene. An abrupt screech erupted from her vocal cords, as the transmutation of her flesh caused excruciating pain akin to the searing blade of molten metal, despite the minute area of impact.
“For a smart person, you are quite stupid, Alicia,” whispered John Philo, “But I really appreciate your courage and concern, though we are not that close. Well, if you don’t want to become a statue sooner, be a good lass, understand?”
Out of breath, Alicia just nodded, her audacity later diminished.
“You heard what she said,” John continued to the wandless Fergus. “Please, turn off whatever barrier spell you installed. And ask your men to remove the rest of my binder. Do it for the girl, please.”
Fergus gritted his teeth. Seeing no other option, he asked the wizards to cancel all their spells.
“An astute choice. I thank you for the cooperation,” John held his hostage, walking back toward the elevator. “After I finish my business, I promise you, you will never see me again.”
He then pressed the elevator button and, thus, to the basement, they went on. []
The Mus Insidias spell that swayed his internal organs did not deter John Philo from his destination: the doorway. If anything, he was even more provoked to release his ire on the wicked in the building.
Three wizards were standing in front of the door, bombarding him with an unceasing magic blast from their wands. “Do not ever let him enter the bunker!” screamed one of the wizards.
John Philo had altered his skin substance to steel from the seven-cavity tablet case that became his material palette. Magic shots were inferior to his ever-thick steel coating, but the heavy nature of the steel slowed his movements. The wizards, seeing this advantage, quickly put together a powerful attack. While continuous shots and slowing spells affected the walking steel monument, another three wizards behind them were concocting strange yet simple potions from their portable alchemy kits. Small round glass bottle, filled with water, salt, and a block of the vinegar mixture. They enchanted the spell, “Creare!”, causing those liquid mixes to boil and their colour turned cream.
Those three alchemists then preceded the other three and threw the potion at the ascending John. The bottle shattered and it scalded his body. His appearance, sparkling gunmetal grey before, was now disgusting, brittle brown. Water, salt, and vinegar—the three corrosive materials, the scourge of metal. Through the mana being channelled through the spell, it advanced the oxidation process.
The rust on John’s body rendered him vulnerable at the drop of the hat. He quickly adopted a marble tile from the palettes and he was now a ceramic mannequin with average speed and defence. John Philo ran up as fast as he could and managed to blow one wizard away from the terrace.
But still, five magi remained. His focus shifted between attacking, defending, and enduring the pain of the barrier spell. John roared in pain as the wizards' magic continued to rain down upon him, fending off each spell as it came. With a sudden dart, he jabbed another mage in the face.
CRACK!
The impact of his fist was akin to a collision with solid marble, shattering senses into a fragmented haze. The hapless wizard tumbled down the stairs, concussed, and left in a stupor.
Four magi left, and more incantations were cast as swift as Thunderkeeper’s lightning, without even a moment of thought. They had no time to devise another strategy or seek more efficacious spells to subdue the Ceramic-Man in one table turn. They just did not want him discovering any openings that could be a boomerang for them. A series of magic fights and the middle-aged man could not withstand any more aggression. His marble coating cracked everywhere, to the point he had fallen to the ground. His skin was bruised and full of minor shot wounds.
And here they thought they had caught the serial carver. Alas, their hubris proved to be their downfall, rendering them sluggish to react when John deftly withdrew another essence from his woven sleeve—a sliver of fibre this time. John’s skin changed substance once again into a lump of kevlar. Lighter, but with bullet resistance no less strong than other materials. With the proficiency of a martial artist, John commenced a symphony of strikes, thrusts, and forceful impacts on the wizards one by one. Mercy was upon them, for the true sacrificial creatures lay confined within the fortified sanctum. It took a long time to subdue them all, as the offensive strength of kevlar was not as hard as marble or steel, but as the battle wore on it became clear that John had prepared his abilities long ago, a lesson for the imprudent not to underestimate even the seemingly buffoonish.
An exhausting fight indeed, John Philo thought as he surveyed the battlefield. He then checked his material palette—steel and marble flakes, fibre, polyethylene granules, gold, silver, and bronze powder.
"Three materials used. Cannot use them for the next hour," John contemplated.
He could not waste any more time, as the ghost of Esmer Philo hovered beside him, urging her father to fulfill his duty—whether it was the actual wandering soul, or the projection of John's delusions due to hormonal imbalance. John Philo forthwith stormed the entrance and strode inside.
***
Alicia froze for a moment after her teacher left the restaurant. Orb from inside the backpack delivered a plasma shock to pull Alicia back to the mortal realm.
You are already aware of the situation. Now, shall we save them, or shall we return home? Orb hummed to Alicia.
"Save them or go home? Are you mad? We're not going home," Alicia responded with determination. "I have pure Arcane and I understand how it works. I must save them and Mister Philo, no matter the cost."
Glad I didn’t choose the wrong person, Alicia!
What Alicia realised at the exact time was a brattle and boisterous sound from afar, coming from the magic facility. The restaurant customers had surveyed from the windows, the owner had contacted the civil guard units to investigate. Alicia, without further ado, got up and rushed out of the exit.
“Oi, dinnae go out there, ya rocket!” warned one of the customers. Too bad, the young girl became deaf. Alicia defied death once again to prove that she was worth that unique Divine Grace.
As Alicia reached the gate, she found the two gatekeepers had passed out at their post, and the six wizards lying unconscious around the stairs and entrance. John had entered and the battle could be heard continuing inside loud and clear. Just as she straight pierced through the barrier spell, mixed emotions and nausea hit her right away. An unfavourable post-menstrual syndrome before its time.
“Argh, bloody Mus Insidias!” She was furious while running as fast as she could before someone cast the Roasting Spell—although it was unlikely since John Philo was inside and no one wailing on fire since then.
Inside, John was busy immobilising a nearby wizard in a fairly spacious room. In front of them was an elevator and two stairs that adorned the left and right of the interior. The elevator was the access John needed to reach the bunker, but his efforts were halted by the wizards upstairs and downstairs casting spells at him.
The Kevlar-Man was at the end of his tether. The unlucky practitioner had to "marvel" their last moments watching themselves altered into the fibre weave!
And from that moment, John felt alive.
Being on the killing spree made him a sound, expressive human being, fulfilling the life purpose of an artist. A depressing chortle escaped from his mouth, knowing that people were blank canvases, ready to be filled with paint.
The Art Master alone was sufficient to overwhelm the elite mage units. Their anxious frown at each other was a signal of agreement to draw out their ultimate arsenal. One of the mages opened a small box containing ten tiny balls with a lustrous look. The design was too fancy for a weapon, like a blue ring jewel covered with a plant-patterned precious mineral. The mage then delivered the box to his upstairs colleagues.
Alicia entered the reception area and snuck into the main room where the fight was taking place. The elite wizards each laid claim to a sphere retrieved from the chest, clutching it tightly within their grasp until its fragile surface succumbed to pressure and released a faint wisp of ethereal azure smoke. And then, the crystals were thrown to the floor below. Alicia, an intrigued observer, witnessed the swift motion of these diminutive spheres. “What did they throw him with?”
John Philo the Kevlar-Man got his attention distracted by those tiny crystals rolling towards him. They started to beam light, showing great unstable turbulence.
BOOM!
The light outbursts enlivened the atmosphere on the ground floor! An astonished gawk from Alicia when the cerulean blasts were rendered in her eyesight. Now she learned why those wizards were part of the elite unit.
The Arcane grenades? Ellie's Wrath, that's absolute genius!
John roared in pain. “Damn you all! What kind of magic did you cast on me?”
Too bad he did not know anything about pure Arcane. Observing the situation, John forced himself to retreat.
“The culprit has weakened! Don’t waste your time! Such a small Arcane might won’t last for long!” one elite wizard screamed. Together, all the magi, both upstairs and downstairs, swung their wands wild abandon.
“Static Ligaveris!”
The tips of their wands emitted a bright red glow like burning charcoal, then extended and bound to the body of the marked one. John Philo was now constrained by dozens of folds of ligature! Screams of despair were heard—constant cursing and threatening to all practitioners.
Fergus, the wizard reeve of Trinketshore, was also present in the conflict, shouting, “Since you are unable to cooperate, we are forced to exterminate you!”
That utterance alone made the light-headed Alicia instantly forget about her vertigo. She knew what that meant; they would burn John Philo on the spot with a follow-up spell, the Urere spell.
“Bennett!” Fergus continued, “Recite, now!”
“Stop!”
All froze. Alicia rushed straight to them, becoming a barrier between the Magisterium Wizards and John Philo.
“Please, don’t execute him! He’s still in grief, so he couldnae rely on his common sense. I beg you to show him mercy!”
Alicia pleaded with them while holding her ached stomach, and the mages were wondering why on Earth there was a little lassie interfering in a dangerous battle.
Fergus recognised the girl right away. “You! You’re Alicia, right? The first daughter of Baron Trinketshore? For the sake of Silent Divine, what's in yer wee brain to sneak in here and interrupt the fight?”
“You are right! I am Alicia Crimsonmane, daughter of Donar, Baron Trinketshore. I am here to stop another bloodbath that has begun to plague Trinketshore. I beg you to order other wizards to lower their wands!” Alicia, of course, did this not solely for Mister John’s sake but also for her own, so those magi would not turn both of them into roasted ducks.
Fergus could not help but stare at the reckless girl. “If I’m not mistaken, a bunch of juveniles also fought Caleb Dune a few nights ago, and if I could trust my own eyes, I also saw someone like you attacking Caleb with a bowling ball! Dinnae tell me you were also involved in his death?”
“His—what? No! No way I’ve done such—“
“Hush! We’ll have the talk for another time. Now leave the territory at once! Do not interfere with the legal process! He’s nae yer art teacher anymore, Alicia. The Protos particle effect is already strong within him. No longer it is possible to reason with him. Moreover, the barrier spell has enough disturbed your mind!”
“I refuse! I—“ Alicia shook her head with a grimace. Argh, this damned barrier spell is driving me mad!
“...I know how to… c-completely remove the Protos’ influence. That’s if... if only you could turn off this bloody Mus Insidias Spell!”
The wizards were getting more and more curious about the young girl’s proclamation. How did she even come up with a solution to remove the influence of Protos? Let alone had the power of pure Arcane, even she was known as a Magicless among all her magus relatives!
All the distractions made them overlook The Art Master, John Philo, who felt his Khaos magic recovered. From his right hand bound on his back, he slowly drew his palette out, tapping the granules of polyethene in a scrupulous manner. His skin then turned into another bullet-proof plastic polymer in a flash!
“Alicia, watch out!”
Alicia's gaze shifted towards John Philo, who clenched the entangled bindings of the magicians in his hands. With an impressive display of strength, he forcefully yanked on those constricting tethers, causing some of the spellcasters to plummet to the floor below, while a few dropped their staffs in a desperate bid to avoid doom. In a swift and alarming turn of events, he seized Alicia by the neck, and as a grim warning, a small section of her neck's skin transmuted into polyethene. An abrupt screech erupted from her vocal cords, as the transmutation of her flesh caused excruciating pain akin to the searing blade of molten metal, despite the minute area of impact.
“For a smart person, you are quite stupid, Alicia,” whispered John Philo, “But I really appreciate your courage and concern, though we are not that close. Well, if you don’t want to become a statue sooner, be a good lass, understand?”
Out of breath, Alicia just nodded, her audacity later diminished.
“You heard what she said,” John continued to the wandless Fergus. “Please, turn off whatever barrier spell you installed. And ask your men to remove the rest of my binder. Do it for the girl, please.”
Fergus gritted his teeth. Seeing no other option, he asked the wizards to cancel all their spells.
“An astute choice. I thank you for the cooperation,” John held his hostage, walking back toward the elevator. “After I finish my business, I promise you, you will never see me again.”
He then pressed the elevator button and, thus, to the basement, they went on. []
