Two hours before Leith and Donar managed to elude a horde of mysterious, masked wizards, Alicia and her friends were still locked in battle with the same band of foreign adversaries elsewhere in the dead district.
"I'm not a bastard! Stop calling me a bastard!" barked Alicia to Spencer, her cousin.
Nadine joined in shouting at the young lad. "Say she's a bastard one more time, I'll blow a hole in your skull with pure Arcane, just as you wish!"
"The descendants of the Crimsonmane are pureblood magi, only paired with the most powerful practitioners. An anomaly like you shouldn't exist!" Spencer sneered.
"That's not fair! It's not my fault that I was born that way," the bespectacled girl uttered again, her voice trembling with frustration. "You once loathed me because I am 'defective’, and now you hate me more because I cannae join you? Or are ye jealous because wizards like you werenae chosen by Arcane?"
"You should know your place! Just because you have Arcane might now, doesn't mean you can boast on whim! Magic never runs through your veins, you shouldn't hold onto that power, you magic blasphemer!"
"What did ye say? She’s arrogant?" The Big Yin named Gilmore defended his little friend. "You fucking wrench. Ye can spend yer tokens going the world, but cannae afford a wee mirror for each of ye?"
"Who made those rules? I... I dinnae understand the hatred you have for me. I dinnae even remember putting you in harm." Alicia then walked closer to Spencer behind the shield. "But at least I can appreciate yer honesty, for I've had enough of all your charades back at the villa. You'll never use me to fulfill your greed. I need neither your pity nor acknowledgement anymore! Arcane will do what it's meant to do—saving the world from the might of Khaos."
Spencer's rage had reached its zenith. He paced back and forth alongside his labour and erratic snorts. Suddenly, he whirled around and lunged towards his cousin he did not want. "Fine, you bloody bastard. We'll just have to take that orb by force and kill all of you. You won't be able to hide in your dome for long. Not when we rain down black magic upon you and make you suffer!"
The menace lingered in the air, and the tension was palpable as he displayed his bared teeth in a snarl.
Spencer then raised his wand. From its tip glowed the dense, unnerving violet of Protos particles.
"Superstitio Lupi!"
A myriad of purple phantasms resembling the countenance of a wolf emerged from the wand, dozens of them. These spectral heads detached and soared through the atmosphere before ramming into the protective dome, akin to the relentless fusillade of a machine gun.
The other wizards were not to be outdone. They unleashed wave after wave of deadly black magic: showering azure flames, spikes of corrosive slime, and obsidian tempest upon the dome, assailing from every angle in an attempt to break through the protective barrier. They were not the same as Agosh Grendi, who wanted to kill Alica for amusement. They were relentless. Their hatred for Alicia burned bright like a fire-horse rage. A sole blemish that made the world imperfect in their eyes.
But despite their unrelenting assault, the dome held strong. Inside, Alicia had braced herself for the curse's inevitable pain. Nadine and Gilmore, however, were clueless about how to lend her their aid. Within this magical enclosure, they were rendered impotent. Alicia was their only patron here and now.
"Nadine, Gilmore!" she beseeched through clenched teeth. "I need your help!"
"Anything!" they both shouted in unison.
"My bag. Quick!"
Gilmore searched her small backpack at once. He found nothing but a medium-sized brown bar with golden-plated spells written on it.
"This?"
“Yes—” Alicia groaned as more and more black magic wanted to penetrate the Arcane shield. She murmured to herself, "Come on, Alicia, you are stronger than this! You defeated a necromancer once, this is nothing!"
"Alicia! Are you all right?" Gilmore panicked.
"Don't mind me now! Listen, what you're holding is a magic road beacon, a gift from Grand Magus to me. Turn the side of it until you find the words 'Scintilla lucis, mihi viam tuam!'"
Gilmore hastily turned the beacon to the side. "Found it!" he said.
"Good! That road beacon will shoot light aimed at all the Magisterium's personnel, replacing some of your strength. Ye ken, like a magic spell Angustia Vocant, the spell—"
"For the sake of Silent Divine, Alicia!" Nadine cut her off at once. "The point!"
"Ah! Sorry, sorry!" said the glasses girl. Her focus was lost due to being overwrought, and several magic projectiles almost penetrated her dome.
"The sentence earlier, Gilmore. Read it to the end, then continue to the next sentence on the right side. After that, turn it to the right again. Keep doing that until you return to the first sentence. When you do, say the first one again while aiming the flare upwards!"
"Understandable!" replied Gilmore who caught Alicia's frantic. If one could be honest, only a lunatic would stand still in the midst of the Khaos’ magical blows without feeling his guts shrivel.
"Do it carefully, Gilmore!" Alicia tried to turn her head back, looking at The Big Yin. "We only have one shot. If it fails, we'll have to wait for thirty minutes. I dinnae think I can last even less than twenty without a mana recovery potion!"
"I can dae it! Jist focus on yer dome so we dinnae all get killed!" Gilmore replied. "Awright, here it goes. Scintilla lucis, mihi viam tuam!"
The first sentence on the flare lit up like a lamp.
"It worked—no, nae yet! Just a few more sentences! Don't worry, hen, we're getting out of here." Gilmore turned the beacon and found the second sentence. "O Tacita Divina, libera nos a Khaos!"
The second sentence shone as well.
Gilmore turned to the third sentence. Meanwhile, Spencer began to fall headlong, showing signs of desperation. His eyes bulged with wrath as they rendered Alicia still standing and unyielding, even though her senses were akin to being stabbed multiple times. Spencer might be a true Crimsonmane magus, but Alicia once faced a necromancer from Demon Continent. Spencer's black magic was nothing compared to Agosh Grendi's. Screaming in ire, he then replaced his spell with a purple flame outburst that covered almost the front surface of her dome.
Back to Gilmore, he echoed the third sentence right away. The inscription on the beacon was long enough that Gilmore had to read it more slowly as he took a closer look at the inscription. "Mittere... me tuum... salavatorem per lumen!"
The third sentence managed to radiate. One last round. One more sentence before reverting to the first words. "Et sicut ego iter per noctem tuto!"
All the sentences in the flare were lit, the base also displaying a brilliant red glow.
"All done!" said Nadine, "Aim up, say the first spell."
Gilmore was about to tilt his right hand so he could read. "Hold on, I forgot what the first spell was. Scintilla lucis—"
"Oi, you idiot!" Nadine punched the man's arm. "Don't read it like that! You want to shoot Alicia or what?"
"Awrigt, awright, I remember now!" Gilmore aimed the beacon at the sky. Reinforcement, accept the call!
"Scintilla lucis, mihi viam tuam!"
A crimson flare burst through the Arcane shield and prepared to explode amidst the crimson twilight horizon. A slight languid struck Gilmore. After this, maybe he should celebrate with a meat feast, considering this was his first experience of doing "magic". If, he and his friends survived this.
They saw the flare ascending through the layered expanse of the heavens. But there was something strange. Alicia, Nadine, and Gilmore heard a loud hum, no less loud than the barrages of black magic raining upon them.
Countless swarms of insects burst out from various corners of the district, provoked by the presence of the airborne beacon. Converging at a single locus, the insects coalesced into an ebony miasma with a clamant noise and swiftly raced toward the flare before exploding. How the Divine had cursed the triplets, the flare was devoured by the cloud, lasting nought but a petty smoke trail!
"No! What is that?" Gilmore went languid for real. Alicia also witnessed the flare's disappearance with a look of dashed hope. The black magic barrages did not stop. The numbing sensation was starting to be felt.
"Alicia, I'm sorry," Gilmore regretted.
"No, Gilmore." Alicia calmed her best friend. "Y-you're doing well. I'll try to hold on a little longer until the beacon can be used again. We're not going to die here."
"Alicia...." The word Nadine could only utter. Upset she was, indeed. After all, where did the insect swarms ever come from?
The black cloud full of disorganised pests slowly descended, creating a boundary between Spencer and Alicia. Thousands of frantically flying insects. Alicia had thought of the figure of David Whistlehoff—the gloomy, pale-faced prison warden, who happened to be able to control insects too.
Like Whistlehoff, the swarm of insects coalesced into a figure. A magus, carrying a long, jagged staff, like insect legs. The tip of it was a cog wheel with a moth symbol in its centre, and three flickering candles perched atop it, forming a look of a chandelier. The magus was garbed in an outfit more sinister than any wizard present. His form was swathed in a cloak patterned with an insect abdomen. His cape was the mottled wings of moths with a mixture colours of brown, white, black, and grey. His chest was draped in fur. A gasmask, modified and grotesque, was his head. Its spiralled tongue jutted from the mask's mouth, and thorns and horns adorned its sides. He was a giant of a man, towering over even the largest of the wizards, including the colossal Gilmore.
The insect mage approached the triumvirate with a slow, deliberate gait, his head tilting back and forth as if viewing them through the eyes of a giant moth, thirsting for their sweet nectar. The magic attacks had ceased with his arrival, and Alicia was grateful for a brief respite. But she knew that any peace was never a true peace, with the Mothman looming over them, ready to terrorise their very souls. Everything came with a price.
"Hnnngggg," the Mothman buzzed. "Dozens of you with Protos particles, hnng, yet this brat's defense is still unbreakable?" cried the Mothman in a deep, striding voice, startling Alicia behind the dome. He turned his gaze to Spencer. "As I thought, you Crimsonmanes were just talking rubbish."
Spencer tried to refute him politely. "But, sir. We would have almost destroyed the protective dome if you had given us time—"
"Especially you!" The Mothman's furry flared, his hand pointing directly at the young man's chest. "Rough, hnnggg, spoiled brat! Thinking you’re the mad champion, hngg? You're even weaker than that magicless girl. If the Inner Circle hadn't accepted you, hnnngggg, my bugs might have raked you to the bone!"
Spencer just looked down, feeling small and inadequate in the shadow of his cousin, Alicia. Wrathful as he was, Spencer’s teeth pressed against each other behind his sealed lips. The insect mage shifted his attention again to Alicia, who was drawing a deep, steadying breath.
"Hnnngggg. I probably don't need to mince words anymore. They've made their point," he said, "Are you going to give up that Arcane might? Since I couldn’t care less about your family's internal feuds, hnnggg, I shall spare your life if you just hand me the orb."
No mages should frighten her now. Alicia stood firm. "I've already said my answer."
The Mothman pulled his head back, looking down on the Crimsonmane girl. "Speaking without thinking hnnnngggg. Another foolish brat…" []
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Two hours before Leith and Donar managed to elude a horde of mysterious, masked wizards, Alicia and her friends were still locked in battle with the same band of foreign adversaries elsewhere in the dead district.
"I'm not a bastard! Stop calling me a bastard!" barked Alicia to Spencer, her cousin.
Nadine joined in shouting at the young lad. "Say she's a bastard one more time, I'll blow a hole in your skull with pure Arcane, just as you wish!"
"The descendants of the Crimsonmane are pureblood magi, only paired with the most powerful practitioners. An anomaly like you shouldn't exist!" Spencer sneered.
"That's not fair! It's not my fault that I was born that way," the bespectacled girl uttered again, her voice trembling with frustration. "You once loathed me because I am 'defective’, and now you hate me more because I cannae join you? Or are ye jealous because wizards like you werenae chosen by Arcane?"
"You should know your place! Just because you have Arcane might now, doesn't mean you can boast on whim! Magic never runs through your veins, you shouldn't hold onto that power, you magic blasphemer!"
"What did ye say? She’s arrogant?" The Big Yin named Gilmore defended his little friend. "You fucking wrench. Ye can spend yer tokens going the world, but cannae afford a wee mirror for each of ye?"
"Who made those rules? I... I dinnae understand the hatred you have for me. I dinnae even remember putting you in harm." Alicia then walked closer to Spencer behind the shield. "But at least I can appreciate yer honesty, for I've had enough of all your charades back at the villa. You'll never use me to fulfill your greed. I need neither your pity nor acknowledgement anymore! Arcane will do what it's meant to do—saving the world from the might of Khaos."
Spencer's rage had reached its zenith. He paced back and forth alongside his labour and erratic snorts. Suddenly, he whirled around and lunged towards his cousin he did not want. "Fine, you bloody bastard. We'll just have to take that orb by force and kill all of you. You won't be able to hide in your dome for long. Not when we rain down black magic upon you and make you suffer!"
The menace lingered in the air, and the tension was palpable as he displayed his bared teeth in a snarl.
Spencer then raised his wand. From its tip glowed the dense, unnerving violet of Protos particles.
"Superstitio Lupi!"
A myriad of purple phantasms resembling the countenance of a wolf emerged from the wand, dozens of them. These spectral heads detached and soared through the atmosphere before ramming into the protective dome, akin to the relentless fusillade of a machine gun.
The other wizards were not to be outdone. They unleashed wave after wave of deadly black magic: showering azure flames, spikes of corrosive slime, and obsidian tempest upon the dome, assailing from every angle in an attempt to break through the protective barrier. They were not the same as Agosh Grendi, who wanted to kill Alica for amusement. They were relentless. Their hatred for Alicia burned bright like a fire-horse rage. A sole blemish that made the world imperfect in their eyes.
But despite their unrelenting assault, the dome held strong. Inside, Alicia had braced herself for the curse's inevitable pain. Nadine and Gilmore, however, were clueless about how to lend her their aid. Within this magical enclosure, they were rendered impotent. Alicia was their only patron here and now.
"Nadine, Gilmore!" she beseeched through clenched teeth. "I need your help!"
"Anything!" they both shouted in unison.
"My bag. Quick!"
Gilmore searched her small backpack at once. He found nothing but a medium-sized brown bar with golden-plated spells written on it.
"This?"
“Yes—” Alicia groaned as more and more black magic wanted to penetrate the Arcane shield. She murmured to herself, "Come on, Alicia, you are stronger than this! You defeated a necromancer once, this is nothing!"
"Alicia! Are you all right?" Gilmore panicked.
"Don't mind me now! Listen, what you're holding is a magic road beacon, a gift from Grand Magus to me. Turn the side of it until you find the words 'Scintilla lucis, mihi viam tuam!'"
Gilmore hastily turned the beacon to the side. "Found it!" he said.
"Good! That road beacon will shoot light aimed at all the Magisterium's personnel, replacing some of your strength. Ye ken, like a magic spell Angustia Vocant, the spell—"
"For the sake of Silent Divine, Alicia!" Nadine cut her off at once. "The point!"
"Ah! Sorry, sorry!" said the glasses girl. Her focus was lost due to being overwrought, and several magic projectiles almost penetrated her dome.
"The sentence earlier, Gilmore. Read it to the end, then continue to the next sentence on the right side. After that, turn it to the right again. Keep doing that until you return to the first sentence. When you do, say the first one again while aiming the flare upwards!"
"Understandable!" replied Gilmore who caught Alicia's frantic. If one could be honest, only a lunatic would stand still in the midst of the Khaos’ magical blows without feeling his guts shrivel.
"Do it carefully, Gilmore!" Alicia tried to turn her head back, looking at The Big Yin. "We only have one shot. If it fails, we'll have to wait for thirty minutes. I dinnae think I can last even less than twenty without a mana recovery potion!"
"I can dae it! Jist focus on yer dome so we dinnae all get killed!" Gilmore replied. "Awright, here it goes. Scintilla lucis, mihi viam tuam!"
The first sentence on the flare lit up like a lamp.
"It worked—no, nae yet! Just a few more sentences! Don't worry, hen, we're getting out of here." Gilmore turned the beacon and found the second sentence. "O Tacita Divina, libera nos a Khaos!"
The second sentence shone as well.
Gilmore turned to the third sentence. Meanwhile, Spencer began to fall headlong, showing signs of desperation. His eyes bulged with wrath as they rendered Alicia still standing and unyielding, even though her senses were akin to being stabbed multiple times. Spencer might be a true Crimsonmane magus, but Alicia once faced a necromancer from Demon Continent. Spencer's black magic was nothing compared to Agosh Grendi's. Screaming in ire, he then replaced his spell with a purple flame outburst that covered almost the front surface of her dome.
Back to Gilmore, he echoed the third sentence right away. The inscription on the beacon was long enough that Gilmore had to read it more slowly as he took a closer look at the inscription. "Mittere... me tuum... salavatorem per lumen!"
The third sentence managed to radiate. One last round. One more sentence before reverting to the first words. "Et sicut ego iter per noctem tuto!"
All the sentences in the flare were lit, the base also displaying a brilliant red glow.
"All done!" said Nadine, "Aim up, say the first spell."
Gilmore was about to tilt his right hand so he could read. "Hold on, I forgot what the first spell was. Scintilla lucis—"
"Oi, you idiot!" Nadine punched the man's arm. "Don't read it like that! You want to shoot Alicia or what?"
"Awrigt, awright, I remember now!" Gilmore aimed the beacon at the sky. Reinforcement, accept the call!
"Scintilla lucis, mihi viam tuam!"
A crimson flare burst through the Arcane shield and prepared to explode amidst the crimson twilight horizon. A slight languid struck Gilmore. After this, maybe he should celebrate with a meat feast, considering this was his first experience of doing "magic". If, he and his friends survived this.
They saw the flare ascending through the layered expanse of the heavens. But there was something strange. Alicia, Nadine, and Gilmore heard a loud hum, no less loud than the barrages of black magic raining upon them.
Countless swarms of insects burst out from various corners of the district, provoked by the presence of the airborne beacon. Converging at a single locus, the insects coalesced into an ebony miasma with a clamant noise and swiftly raced toward the flare before exploding. How the Divine had cursed the triplets, the flare was devoured by the cloud, lasting nought but a petty smoke trail!
"No! What is that?" Gilmore went languid for real. Alicia also witnessed the flare's disappearance with a look of dashed hope. The black magic barrages did not stop. The numbing sensation was starting to be felt.
"Alicia, I'm sorry," Gilmore regretted.
"No, Gilmore." Alicia calmed her best friend. "Y-you're doing well. I'll try to hold on a little longer until the beacon can be used again. We're not going to die here."
"Alicia...." The word Nadine could only utter. Upset she was, indeed. After all, where did the insect swarms ever come from?
The black cloud full of disorganised pests slowly descended, creating a boundary between Spencer and Alicia. Thousands of frantically flying insects. Alicia had thought of the figure of David Whistlehoff—the gloomy, pale-faced prison warden, who happened to be able to control insects too.
Like Whistlehoff, the swarm of insects coalesced into a figure. A magus, carrying a long, jagged staff, like insect legs. The tip of it was a cog wheel with a moth symbol in its centre, and three flickering candles perched atop it, forming a look of a chandelier. The magus was garbed in an outfit more sinister than any wizard present. His form was swathed in a cloak patterned with an insect abdomen. His cape was the mottled wings of moths with a mixture colours of brown, white, black, and grey. His chest was draped in fur. A gasmask, modified and grotesque, was his head. Its spiralled tongue jutted from the mask's mouth, and thorns and horns adorned its sides. He was a giant of a man, towering over even the largest of the wizards, including the colossal Gilmore.
The insect mage approached the triumvirate with a slow, deliberate gait, his head tilting back and forth as if viewing them through the eyes of a giant moth, thirsting for their sweet nectar. The magic attacks had ceased with his arrival, and Alicia was grateful for a brief respite. But she knew that any peace was never a true peace, with the Mothman looming over them, ready to terrorise their very souls. Everything came with a price.
"Hnnngggg," the Mothman buzzed. "Dozens of you with Protos particles, hnng, yet this brat's defense is still unbreakable?" cried the Mothman in a deep, striding voice, startling Alicia behind the dome. He turned his gaze to Spencer. "As I thought, you Crimsonmanes were just talking rubbish."
Spencer tried to refute him politely. "But, sir. We would have almost destroyed the protective dome if you had given us time—"
"Especially you!" The Mothman's furry flared, his hand pointing directly at the young man's chest. "Rough, hnnggg, spoiled brat! Thinking you’re the mad champion, hngg? You're even weaker than that magicless girl. If the Inner Circle hadn't accepted you, hnnngggg, my bugs might have raked you to the bone!"
Spencer just looked down, feeling small and inadequate in the shadow of his cousin, Alicia. Wrathful as he was, Spencer’s teeth pressed against each other behind his sealed lips. The insect mage shifted his attention again to Alicia, who was drawing a deep, steadying breath.
"Hnnngggg. I probably don't need to mince words anymore. They've made their point," he said, "Are you going to give up that Arcane might? Since I couldn’t care less about your family's internal feuds, hnnggg, I shall spare your life if you just hand me the orb."
No mages should frighten her now. Alicia stood firm. "I've already said my answer."
The Mothman pulled his head back, looking down on the Crimsonmane girl. "Speaking without thinking hnnnngggg. Another foolish brat…" []
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