All knew the courtroom was already stifling. However, they could not help but make it more torrid with their exhalation. All because of what they had just heard before their tiny ears. Without even caring about the world, everyone showed a sense of disgust for the young girl. Poor Alicia, she again received scorn for the umpteenth time.
“Could you be that Crimsonmane outcast who can’t do magic!”
“That girl tainted the rules of magic! Blasphemer of Silent Divine!”
“Pathetic you are, indeed! Are you so desperate to be recognised by your family that you would resort to desperate measures to become a mage, rejecting yourself?"
“Imbecile! Yer nae different from those Protos particle addicts with delusions of grandeur!”
“You’re nothing special. Just accept that you’re a Magicless!”
“Even with that Pure Arcane might, you will never be a part of us!”
Her hands clenched into fists. Her ever-haunting nightmare long buried, at last, paid the Crimsonmane lass a visit again—feeling the whole realm reviled her for being a disgrace to a famous wizarding house.
“Yes! I am the one, that outcast Crimsonmane! So what?” Alicia went violent with the magi. “What’s wrong with wanting to attain magical power? I’m not doing it so my own family recognise my existence! I don’t need their approval!”
The magic circle on Alicia's hand flickered to life once more, a cruel reminder that she was not being truthful. The gazes upon her sparked with renewed disdain, while Bartholomew looked on from above and sat in reticence, enjoying the bookworm being tortured.
“A little, m-maybe…,” Alicia stuttered. “But my one true ambition is, to stop the neverending magic conflict. To spread happiness to the world with magic! That’s my dream as a mage! Orb will help me achieve it!”
Another wave of disgusted groan by the girl’s cliche, yet naïve ambition. Still learning to control her negative emotions, Alicia reaffirmed herself once again, “But I can’t stop you from despising me. So go ahead; revile as much as you want until your heart feels content!”
Bartholomew, the Vice Grand Magus, rose from his master’s throne. Not only his physical being, his deep anger also rose. “No more world-saving clichés from you, Crimsonmane! You are sixteen years old, woman, use your reason for once! Magic makes life easier, but it is not a toy you can play with as you please under the pretext of saving the world! That's why the Magisterium exists! You will never—never…! Create heaven on earth...!”
The veins on the black man’s face suddenly bulged. A thought crossed him. His fury manifolded. Just from this moment, Bartholomew did not see Alicia as a mere spoiled brat.
He saw her as a foe.
“Unless...,” he added.
“Unless… what?”
“With whom are you conspiring?” the Vice Grand Magus replied back. “Did your family teach you this? Is that why you held that orb and no Crimsonmane ever reported it? To bring about that cursed happily ever after fairy tale? The means of turning everything divine? Oh, that thousand years bullcrap! You’re part of them, aren’t you? The crimson manes put their faith in this belief? Ellie’s wrath, a Crimsonmane amongst you, Ailsa, lost her life to expose this serious threat, and the threat is now amongst us? Amongst her kin?"
How Alicia was enraged by the accusation she had no idea what it was. The girl sensed the Vice Grand Magus was only framing her to separate herself from the magic ball, before disposing of her in the vile alley. When her mother’s name was on that wizard's lips, she was reluctant to yield, even though tears glistened in both eyes.
“W-what? What kind of accusation is that? Cursed you! Ye have nae right to accuse me of being part of Mama’s disappearance! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Seeing the unfavourable situation, Sylvester started shouting to calm them down. “Okay, calm down! Order! Order!” He then admonished Bartholomew. “You don’t bring up something that doesn’t belong here! You can’t just land such a severe allegation on that little girl!”
“Bah! You’re too naïve, old man,” sneered Bartholomew. “But alright. It doesn’t matter, anyway. We’re not getting anything from her either, are we?” After saying that, the Vice Grand Magus sat back in his seat.
Only then did the commotion slowly subside. Sylvester scolded Alicia right away. “You’re from Trinketshore. That means you’re Ailsa Crimsonmane’s daughter, right? Didn’t your mother ever teach you about mystic art ethics?”
“Oh, I know very well what you mean!” replied Alicia, growing impertinent. “That I cannot go against my nature as a human without magic, is it not? I say that is a ridiculous, archaic code of conduct! And Mama agreed with me!”
The audience was taken aback by the girl’s statement. Not sure if Alicia was even able to endure their wrath!
“Be careful, Miss Crimsonmane! I’m warning you!”
“Why do you keep the aspiring people shackled? Where’s the value of freedom and expressiveness the Camelots used to adore? If we can be anything here, why can’t I be a mage, too? After all, I don’t receive magical power from Protos particles!”
“It doesn’t matter if you get your power from Protos particles or Pure Arcane! Your actions cannot be justified! There is a reason this law was made!”
“I’m not the enemy here, Your Honour! My goal is the same as yours, to help prevent the power of Khaos from engulfing the world,” Alicia responded. “But at least I can spread this grace with sincerity, making things better. Unlike the Romans, who keep their pure Arcane for themselves, then treat it like a traded asset—”
“Enough!” cried the angry old judge. This time, his wrath was almost the same tier as Bartholomew’s vicious aura. He leapt to his feed, his grip tightened on the cloth of his shirt as if he were ready to tear it apart.
“An ignorant juvenile like you,” snapped Sylvester again. “… You won’t listen, even if I yell at you until the end of time!”
Alicia had just made a controversial proclamation. Camelot might be subject to an embargo from the Eternal Empire of Roma because of her! To receive such treatment from a most powerful imperium in a chaotic world was tantamount to killing the country itself.
Sylvester tapped his chest. As a greybeard like him, of course, this outburst of emotions was a bitter source of a sudden heart attack. A deep breath was taken before once again facing the so-called imbecile suspect.
“Humans are greedy creatures, especially when it comes to power! If no one makes rules to limit these tendencies, it doesn’t matter if you take power from the deepest Tartarus, or from the face of the Divine himself! You will lose your way, away from your principal purpose. You will never be satisfied. Thirst for power will stumble upon you, and before you know it, you destroy others because of your deeds!"
At first, Alicia’s initial reply would be, "Oh yeah? Like those minging Romans, the mastermind behind all recent mundane hostilities?"
But if it made her responsible for the genocide of the Camelots, the girl would not dare.
The old Sylvester continued, “Whoever can’t create magic with one’s own mana, one can never further develop one’s abilities, either with the help of Protos particles or pure Arcane! Because that’s one nature! Your nature! The Divine has designed your being and others that way.”
“That can’t be true,” replied Alicia, doubtful and dissatisfied she was with the judge’s statement. “Forgive my impudence earlier, but how do you know I won’t advance? At least can’t the entire Magisterium and Roma test me? Or at least teach me how to make better use of pure Arcane?”
“Bah! Do you think that I and your great-grandparents never thought of trying anything like that?” Sylvester replied back. “There’s no point in us teaching you anything if you can’t dive into it yourself, let alone connect with any mystic arts! The pure power of the Divine, just like the pure power of the Khaos—they are magical enhancers, used to increase the magical power that already exists within them!”
Judge Roan added to his colleague’s statement. “Unlike Khaos, which can give random abilities and even develop new mystic arts from it, ordinary people can only manipulate raw Arcane energy on a basic basis. You cannot develop further to anything.”
“Those who are not mages will not be able to carry those two raw energies in the long term,” Judge Tanner explained. “Your body will be overwhelmed by Arcane, even if your body gets used to it, other complications will arise. Your lifespan will be shorter, but your skill stays the same.”
“The main thing is...!” said Sylvester again. “Giving you that source of pure Arcane is a wasteful deed. Just because you’ve removed someone’s black magic doesn’t mean you’re a chosen special being, Miss Alicia! That’s the true nature of pure Arcane! You might be able to remove the influence of Protos from an ordinary person, but it is impossible—I say again, impossible, to neutralise the black magic of a real mage. Not with that constant ability of yours.”
The visage of the bookworm had a look of despair. “No way. You’re lying,” she mumbled.
“Believe us, there’s no point in us lying,” Tanner replied softly. “If we really want to take this orb from you, we just have to take it straight away without much effort.”
“Then you're wrong! You're limiting yourself to the ever-mystery Silent Divine with infinite possibilities! Why did Orb choose me? Pure Arcane always chooses its wielders! There’s no way it judges based on one’s magic ability, nor the purity of one’s heart, because none of us knows what it is! Don’t tell me it’s a divine mystery as said in the books, because otherwise, this discriminatory trial shouldn’t have existed in the first place!"
A statement that might make everyone pensive. Attaining the Arcane power straight from the mage to a commoner? It was common. The Romans did it. One Roman army had the power of ten men during the war because of the Arcane flowing through the one. One of many aspects why Eternal Roma was a superpower. But what about the Arcane choosing the commoners themselves? They found nothing about it in their documents of magic history.
“Hm.…” Judge Tanner looked deep in thought. He did not care about his trembling legs. After calling for an opinion from the other judges, and they agreed, Tanner smoothed out his vine-patterned dark green coat. “I think you are… different from the others. An anomaly. An unexpected breakthrough.”
Alicia seemed to feel a glimmer of hope.
“However, you’re not as exceptional as you think, and we can’t take the risk. With our allies amid a storm of war against the Black Alliance, we barely have resources and time to allocate to studying you further.”
“W-what?”
“You heard what I said, Miss Crimsonmane. You may be something else. But for now, it would be best if we make your Arcane resources for better use. For national defence, for example.”
Four superiors exchanged their stares. As they nodded at each other, Sylvester then stated his firm verdict. “Therefore, Alicia Crimsonmane, we have decided that Magisterium of Arcane Plane will confiscate your magic sphere, with the help of the Roman imperial supervision. After some investigation procedures, we’re going to return you to Trinketshore.”
A Roman agent deftly controlled the sealed Orb with the same type of power as its own. It appeared that the magical seal made Orb lifeless, easily listening to his hand gestures without revolting.
How mystified the already puzzled Alicia had become when the superiors explicated their nonsense. It was just too bad that the sweet taste of power from Orb would not last long.
“Why can’t I be of any use to you? I’ve learned the tricks of using Orb. You just have to teach me the rest. Send me to whatever division you want me to be! Medics, alchemists, anything!” Alicia once again appealed to the judges.
The entire audience laid their whispers once again about how pathetic the Crimsonmane girl was. Despite all those facts, in their mundane eyes, the girl was still just a magicless girl. An outsider, beyond the reach of their community.
“Forgive us, Miss Alicia,” said Judge Roan. “You may have noble intentions, but having this kind of power is very risky. If we let the magic sphere stay with you, we are afraid your head will be a forever bounty. It is impossible for you to defeat all of them. It’s for your safety too.”
Sylvester looked back at Bartholomew on the throne. “And you, ‘Vice Grand Magus?’ What do you think?”
“Verdict accepted. You may proceed.” A straightforward reply from Bartholomew, signifying the end of the trial.
“We now declare the trial is concluded!” With a resounding strike of his gavel, Judge Layton decreed the trial's denouement. The enchanting sigil that had once adorned Alicia's hand dissipated into thin air. A subtle shift, imperceptible yet palpable, swept through the hall, loosening the tautness that had gripped its atmosphere.
The warden came back and led Alicia away from the judges.
“You… you must be joking.” Alicia spat, her lips curling in a snarl. As she trudged behind the warden, her steps were heavy with disappointment and shame. Hurt and returning past traumas merged into a calamitous whirlwind, threatening to engulf the young girl.
The moment they stepped into the threshold of the exit, the doors suddenly shut by themselves. The loud bang startled everyone present. Alicia and the warden saw the wood veneer of the door emit a kind of black mud and blood mixed together to form a peculiar magical circle—the one that left nothing but a terrifying impression. The warden took Alicia a few steps back. Wonderful, now what other misfortune would befall me?
“What happened there?” Sylvester's inquiry echoed. Bartholomew, from the throne, promptly jutted out his wand on alert.
Sylvester then felt something sticky beneath his shoe. He looked down; the ground was cracking and excreting a mixture of dirt and blood similar to the one on the doors. The old man’s worn-out reflexes could not save him when a bloodied skull suddenly jutted out from the tiled floor and squeezed the judge tightly! The skeleton seemed to cast out a spell, causing Sylvester’s being to disintegrate away as if his body’s tissues had been transferred to the living carcass. It did not take aeons for flesh membranes to coat the evil skeleton, and look alive! A half-baked human figure with blank eyes was created!
And what of Sylvester? Now it was his turn to become a pile of bones, crumbling to the floor.
The pale figure earlier pounced on Judge Roan next to him. Roan, also lacking in agility, did nothing but scream, receiving the flesh of his neck in shreds, and his veins ripped. Carcasses and living cadavers sprang up from all over the floor and walls. Great panic ensued in those who were unaware.
The barrage of indistinct magic shots, the anguished moans of corpses, and the piercing cries of those consumed by the ravenous horde inundated the depths of the young girl's soul. The warden rushed for a safe place with Alicia's hand clutched in his. But with all the exits sealed by magic, every nook and cranny was an inferno, not to mention that Alicia had to witness the horrid scene. Oh, these memories would stick in her head for eternity.
Amongst the audience, a cloaked mage experienced pain all over his body. He felt something squirming inside his stomach, its malevolence spreading like tendrils of fire through his visage. Suddenly, his jaw was pried open, stretched beyond its limits, as a hand burst forth from the hapless mage's maw!
The relentless hand continued to exert force upon the shattered lower jaw, the mage looked like he wanted to spit out a whole watermelon. What curse was deserved for this man, that his jaw was completely torn and his whole body was split! And emerging from that unholy orifice, covered in blood and mucus, was another figure of man, his giggle an unsettling symphony of mirth and madness.
He woke up and stumbled on repeat, like a baby on his first steps. Yet, this did not hinder the eruption of manic laughter that escaped his lips upon witnessing the merciless magi slaughter by the aggressive undead. It appeared that a mask adorned his countenance, resembling the shape of an orc with a sharp nose and wide eyes, glistening red as the victim’s blood that spilt his entire being. However, this mask only concealed the upper portion of his face, leaving a wide and wicked grin exposed to the vast expanse of the universe. One could not judge his fashion, for it was covered by red fluid and body chunks.
But one thing was certain; this deranged figure was undeniably a practitioner of magic, albeit one quite distinct from the wizards who congregated within the hall.
He guffawed. "What a goofy ass trial you got there! I’m still in shock. The European wizards are still a complete idiot to this day!” he said. “It’s no wonder your mystic art is the weakest in the world of thaumaturgy!”
Then he saw a frightened Alicia taking cover behind the warden. The mad practitioner made a mocking pity face towards her.
“Oh, poor girl. Are you still sad that the bullies stole your candy? Don’t listen to them, miss! How about a word of encouragement?” He bowed his body. “You are a special girl. You and that magic ball? Not chosen at random. Oh, fuck! You are indeed destined to change the face of the world…!”
Nausea hit him all of a sudden. He tilted his head up and took a pool out of his throat. The series of grotesque events that kept coming up recently made Alicia not even know how to react when she saw that mage pull out a staff slowly from his mouth.
The staff surprisingly shared almost the same length as the madman’s height. At its top was a charred skull roasted in the afterlife—at least that’s what Alicia thought when she saw the charcoal-black skull full of rough crusts.
“And they asked me to take you with the magic ball," the mad mage continued. "But to Hades with them! That's a piece of cake. There is absolutely no struggle there!”
With a flourish, he stretched out his staff. The black skull suddenly parted its jaw, and a curved blade came out of it, ready to cut through the air with deadly intent.
His staff was now a giant scythe.
“How about instead of bringing you alive, I just try to kill you?” []
All knew the courtroom was already stifling. However, they could not help but make it more torrid with their exhalation. All because of what they had just heard before their tiny ears. Without even caring about the world, everyone showed a sense of disgust for the young girl. Poor Alicia, she again received scorn for the umpteenth time.
“Could you be that Crimsonmane outcast who can’t do magic!”
“That girl tainted the rules of magic! Blasphemer of Silent Divine!”
“Pathetic you are, indeed! Are you so desperate to be recognised by your family that you would resort to desperate measures to become a mage, rejecting yourself?"
“Imbecile! Yer nae different from those Protos particle addicts with delusions of grandeur!”
“You’re nothing special. Just accept that you’re a Magicless!”
“Even with that Pure Arcane might, you will never be a part of us!”
Her hands clenched into fists. Her ever-haunting nightmare long buried, at last, paid the Crimsonmane lass a visit again—feeling the whole realm reviled her for being a disgrace to a famous wizarding house.
“Yes! I am the one, that outcast Crimsonmane! So what?” Alicia went violent with the magi. “What’s wrong with wanting to attain magical power? I’m not doing it so my own family recognise my existence! I don’t need their approval!”
The magic circle on Alicia's hand flickered to life once more, a cruel reminder that she was not being truthful. The gazes upon her sparked with renewed disdain, while Bartholomew looked on from above and sat in reticence, enjoying the bookworm being tortured.
“A little, m-maybe…,” Alicia stuttered. “But my one true ambition is, to stop the neverending magic conflict. To spread happiness to the world with magic! That’s my dream as a mage! Orb will help me achieve it!”
Another wave of disgusted groan by the girl’s cliche, yet naïve ambition. Still learning to control her negative emotions, Alicia reaffirmed herself once again, “But I can’t stop you from despising me. So go ahead; revile as much as you want until your heart feels content!”
Bartholomew, the Vice Grand Magus, rose from his master’s throne. Not only his physical being, his deep anger also rose. “No more world-saving clichés from you, Crimsonmane! You are sixteen years old, woman, use your reason for once! Magic makes life easier, but it is not a toy you can play with as you please under the pretext of saving the world! That's why the Magisterium exists! You will never—never…! Create heaven on earth...!”
The veins on the black man’s face suddenly bulged. A thought crossed him. His fury manifolded. Just from this moment, Bartholomew did not see Alicia as a mere spoiled brat.
He saw her as a foe.
“Unless...,” he added.
“Unless… what?”
“With whom are you conspiring?” the Vice Grand Magus replied back. “Did your family teach you this? Is that why you held that orb and no Crimsonmane ever reported it? To bring about that cursed happily ever after fairy tale? The means of turning everything divine? Oh, that thousand years bullcrap! You’re part of them, aren’t you? The crimson manes put their faith in this belief? Ellie’s wrath, a Crimsonmane amongst you, Ailsa, lost her life to expose this serious threat, and the threat is now amongst us? Amongst her kin?"
How Alicia was enraged by the accusation she had no idea what it was. The girl sensed the Vice Grand Magus was only framing her to separate herself from the magic ball, before disposing of her in the vile alley. When her mother’s name was on that wizard's lips, she was reluctant to yield, even though tears glistened in both eyes.
“W-what? What kind of accusation is that? Cursed you! Ye have nae right to accuse me of being part of Mama’s disappearance! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Seeing the unfavourable situation, Sylvester started shouting to calm them down. “Okay, calm down! Order! Order!” He then admonished Bartholomew. “You don’t bring up something that doesn’t belong here! You can’t just land such a severe allegation on that little girl!”
“Bah! You’re too naïve, old man,” sneered Bartholomew. “But alright. It doesn’t matter, anyway. We’re not getting anything from her either, are we?” After saying that, the Vice Grand Magus sat back in his seat.
Only then did the commotion slowly subside. Sylvester scolded Alicia right away. “You’re from Trinketshore. That means you’re Ailsa Crimsonmane’s daughter, right? Didn’t your mother ever teach you about mystic art ethics?”
“Oh, I know very well what you mean!” replied Alicia, growing impertinent. “That I cannot go against my nature as a human without magic, is it not? I say that is a ridiculous, archaic code of conduct! And Mama agreed with me!”
The audience was taken aback by the girl’s statement. Not sure if Alicia was even able to endure their wrath!
“Be careful, Miss Crimsonmane! I’m warning you!”
“Why do you keep the aspiring people shackled? Where’s the value of freedom and expressiveness the Camelots used to adore? If we can be anything here, why can’t I be a mage, too? After all, I don’t receive magical power from Protos particles!”
“It doesn’t matter if you get your power from Protos particles or Pure Arcane! Your actions cannot be justified! There is a reason this law was made!”
“I’m not the enemy here, Your Honour! My goal is the same as yours, to help prevent the power of Khaos from engulfing the world,” Alicia responded. “But at least I can spread this grace with sincerity, making things better. Unlike the Romans, who keep their pure Arcane for themselves, then treat it like a traded asset—”
“Enough!” cried the angry old judge. This time, his wrath was almost the same tier as Bartholomew’s vicious aura. He leapt to his feed, his grip tightened on the cloth of his shirt as if he were ready to tear it apart.
“An ignorant juvenile like you,” snapped Sylvester again. “… You won’t listen, even if I yell at you until the end of time!”
Alicia had just made a controversial proclamation. Camelot might be subject to an embargo from the Eternal Empire of Roma because of her! To receive such treatment from a most powerful imperium in a chaotic world was tantamount to killing the country itself.
Sylvester tapped his chest. As a greybeard like him, of course, this outburst of emotions was a bitter source of a sudden heart attack. A deep breath was taken before once again facing the so-called imbecile suspect.
“Humans are greedy creatures, especially when it comes to power! If no one makes rules to limit these tendencies, it doesn’t matter if you take power from the deepest Tartarus, or from the face of the Divine himself! You will lose your way, away from your principal purpose. You will never be satisfied. Thirst for power will stumble upon you, and before you know it, you destroy others because of your deeds!"
At first, Alicia’s initial reply would be, "Oh yeah? Like those minging Romans, the mastermind behind all recent mundane hostilities?"
But if it made her responsible for the genocide of the Camelots, the girl would not dare.
The old Sylvester continued, “Whoever can’t create magic with one’s own mana, one can never further develop one’s abilities, either with the help of Protos particles or pure Arcane! Because that’s one nature! Your nature! The Divine has designed your being and others that way.”
“That can’t be true,” replied Alicia, doubtful and dissatisfied she was with the judge’s statement. “Forgive my impudence earlier, but how do you know I won’t advance? At least can’t the entire Magisterium and Roma test me? Or at least teach me how to make better use of pure Arcane?”
“Bah! Do you think that I and your great-grandparents never thought of trying anything like that?” Sylvester replied back. “There’s no point in us teaching you anything if you can’t dive into it yourself, let alone connect with any mystic arts! The pure power of the Divine, just like the pure power of the Khaos—they are magical enhancers, used to increase the magical power that already exists within them!”
Judge Roan added to his colleague’s statement. “Unlike Khaos, which can give random abilities and even develop new mystic arts from it, ordinary people can only manipulate raw Arcane energy on a basic basis. You cannot develop further to anything.”
“Those who are not mages will not be able to carry those two raw energies in the long term,” Judge Tanner explained. “Your body will be overwhelmed by Arcane, even if your body gets used to it, other complications will arise. Your lifespan will be shorter, but your skill stays the same.”
“The main thing is...!” said Sylvester again. “Giving you that source of pure Arcane is a wasteful deed. Just because you’ve removed someone’s black magic doesn’t mean you’re a chosen special being, Miss Alicia! That’s the true nature of pure Arcane! You might be able to remove the influence of Protos from an ordinary person, but it is impossible—I say again, impossible, to neutralise the black magic of a real mage. Not with that constant ability of yours.”
The visage of the bookworm had a look of despair. “No way. You’re lying,” she mumbled.
“Believe us, there’s no point in us lying,” Tanner replied softly. “If we really want to take this orb from you, we just have to take it straight away without much effort.”
“Then you're wrong! You're limiting yourself to the ever-mystery Silent Divine with infinite possibilities! Why did Orb choose me? Pure Arcane always chooses its wielders! There’s no way it judges based on one’s magic ability, nor the purity of one’s heart, because none of us knows what it is! Don’t tell me it’s a divine mystery as said in the books, because otherwise, this discriminatory trial shouldn’t have existed in the first place!"
A statement that might make everyone pensive. Attaining the Arcane power straight from the mage to a commoner? It was common. The Romans did it. One Roman army had the power of ten men during the war because of the Arcane flowing through the one. One of many aspects why Eternal Roma was a superpower. But what about the Arcane choosing the commoners themselves? They found nothing about it in their documents of magic history.
“Hm.…” Judge Tanner looked deep in thought. He did not care about his trembling legs. After calling for an opinion from the other judges, and they agreed, Tanner smoothed out his vine-patterned dark green coat. “I think you are… different from the others. An anomaly. An unexpected breakthrough.”
Alicia seemed to feel a glimmer of hope.
“However, you’re not as exceptional as you think, and we can’t take the risk. With our allies amid a storm of war against the Black Alliance, we barely have resources and time to allocate to studying you further.”
“W-what?”
“You heard what I said, Miss Crimsonmane. You may be something else. But for now, it would be best if we make your Arcane resources for better use. For national defence, for example.”
Four superiors exchanged their stares. As they nodded at each other, Sylvester then stated his firm verdict. “Therefore, Alicia Crimsonmane, we have decided that Magisterium of Arcane Plane will confiscate your magic sphere, with the help of the Roman imperial supervision. After some investigation procedures, we’re going to return you to Trinketshore.”
A Roman agent deftly controlled the sealed Orb with the same type of power as its own. It appeared that the magical seal made Orb lifeless, easily listening to his hand gestures without revolting.
How mystified the already puzzled Alicia had become when the superiors explicated their nonsense. It was just too bad that the sweet taste of power from Orb would not last long.
“Why can’t I be of any use to you? I’ve learned the tricks of using Orb. You just have to teach me the rest. Send me to whatever division you want me to be! Medics, alchemists, anything!” Alicia once again appealed to the judges.
The entire audience laid their whispers once again about how pathetic the Crimsonmane girl was. Despite all those facts, in their mundane eyes, the girl was still just a magicless girl. An outsider, beyond the reach of their community.
“Forgive us, Miss Alicia,” said Judge Roan. “You may have noble intentions, but having this kind of power is very risky. If we let the magic sphere stay with you, we are afraid your head will be a forever bounty. It is impossible for you to defeat all of them. It’s for your safety too.”
Sylvester looked back at Bartholomew on the throne. “And you, ‘Vice Grand Magus?’ What do you think?”
“Verdict accepted. You may proceed.” A straightforward reply from Bartholomew, signifying the end of the trial.
“We now declare the trial is concluded!” With a resounding strike of his gavel, Judge Layton decreed the trial's denouement. The enchanting sigil that had once adorned Alicia's hand dissipated into thin air. A subtle shift, imperceptible yet palpable, swept through the hall, loosening the tautness that had gripped its atmosphere.
The warden came back and led Alicia away from the judges.
“You… you must be joking.” Alicia spat, her lips curling in a snarl. As she trudged behind the warden, her steps were heavy with disappointment and shame. Hurt and returning past traumas merged into a calamitous whirlwind, threatening to engulf the young girl.
The moment they stepped into the threshold of the exit, the doors suddenly shut by themselves. The loud bang startled everyone present. Alicia and the warden saw the wood veneer of the door emit a kind of black mud and blood mixed together to form a peculiar magical circle—the one that left nothing but a terrifying impression. The warden took Alicia a few steps back. Wonderful, now what other misfortune would befall me?
“What happened there?” Sylvester's inquiry echoed. Bartholomew, from the throne, promptly jutted out his wand on alert.
Sylvester then felt something sticky beneath his shoe. He looked down; the ground was cracking and excreting a mixture of dirt and blood similar to the one on the doors. The old man’s worn-out reflexes could not save him when a bloodied skull suddenly jutted out from the tiled floor and squeezed the judge tightly! The skeleton seemed to cast out a spell, causing Sylvester’s being to disintegrate away as if his body’s tissues had been transferred to the living carcass. It did not take aeons for flesh membranes to coat the evil skeleton, and look alive! A half-baked human figure with blank eyes was created!
And what of Sylvester? Now it was his turn to become a pile of bones, crumbling to the floor.
The pale figure earlier pounced on Judge Roan next to him. Roan, also lacking in agility, did nothing but scream, receiving the flesh of his neck in shreds, and his veins ripped. Carcasses and living cadavers sprang up from all over the floor and walls. Great panic ensued in those who were unaware.
The barrage of indistinct magic shots, the anguished moans of corpses, and the piercing cries of those consumed by the ravenous horde inundated the depths of the young girl's soul. The warden rushed for a safe place with Alicia's hand clutched in his. But with all the exits sealed by magic, every nook and cranny was an inferno, not to mention that Alicia had to witness the horrid scene. Oh, these memories would stick in her head for eternity.
Amongst the audience, a cloaked mage experienced pain all over his body. He felt something squirming inside his stomach, its malevolence spreading like tendrils of fire through his visage. Suddenly, his jaw was pried open, stretched beyond its limits, as a hand burst forth from the hapless mage's maw!
The relentless hand continued to exert force upon the shattered lower jaw, the mage looked like he wanted to spit out a whole watermelon. What curse was deserved for this man, that his jaw was completely torn and his whole body was split! And emerging from that unholy orifice, covered in blood and mucus, was another figure of man, his giggle an unsettling symphony of mirth and madness.
He woke up and stumbled on repeat, like a baby on his first steps. Yet, this did not hinder the eruption of manic laughter that escaped his lips upon witnessing the merciless magi slaughter by the aggressive undead. It appeared that a mask adorned his countenance, resembling the shape of an orc with a sharp nose and wide eyes, glistening red as the victim’s blood that spilt his entire being. However, this mask only concealed the upper portion of his face, leaving a wide and wicked grin exposed to the vast expanse of the universe. One could not judge his fashion, for it was covered by red fluid and body chunks.
But one thing was certain; this deranged figure was undeniably a practitioner of magic, albeit one quite distinct from the wizards who congregated within the hall.
He guffawed. "What a goofy ass trial you got there! I’m still in shock. The European wizards are still a complete idiot to this day!” he said. “It’s no wonder your mystic art is the weakest in the world of thaumaturgy!”
Then he saw a frightened Alicia taking cover behind the warden. The mad practitioner made a mocking pity face towards her.
“Oh, poor girl. Are you still sad that the bullies stole your candy? Don’t listen to them, miss! How about a word of encouragement?” He bowed his body. “You are a special girl. You and that magic ball? Not chosen at random. Oh, fuck! You are indeed destined to change the face of the world…!”
Nausea hit him all of a sudden. He tilted his head up and took a pool out of his throat. The series of grotesque events that kept coming up recently made Alicia not even know how to react when she saw that mage pull out a staff slowly from his mouth.
The staff surprisingly shared almost the same length as the madman’s height. At its top was a charred skull roasted in the afterlife—at least that’s what Alicia thought when she saw the charcoal-black skull full of rough crusts.
“And they asked me to take you with the magic ball," the mad mage continued. "But to Hades with them! That's a piece of cake. There is absolutely no struggle there!”
With a flourish, he stretched out his staff. The black skull suddenly parted its jaw, and a curved blade came out of it, ready to cut through the air with deadly intent.
His staff was now a giant scythe.
“How about instead of bringing you alive, I just try to kill you?” []
