.
.
.
Inside a temple deep within the heart of a desert, sat in a room buried deep within its structure was a large round table with a topographical map of Earthland carved into its stone surface. In two of the half-dozen thrones that sat around its circumference were two men.
The first was in his thirties, the physical prime of his life, and didn’t even deign to give the one sitting across from him any attention. He was instead focused on the sword spear in his lap. The bluish-purple metal of the blade glinted to reveal his reflection, his dark and sickly green hair was slicked back and a thick moustache tilted downwards as he frowned in irritation. Unbeffiting of his broad and muscular stature, he wore a corset that thinned his waist and overlaid a white shirt. The formal trousers he wore completed the look of refinement he seemed to be looking for, but the thick and heavy boots counteracted the gentlemanly appearance.
Across from him sat an elderly man of equal stature, one of his green eyes having been covered up by an eyepatch. His long and white hair stretched down to his lower back while the long beard curled on his lap towards the end. He wore a red button-up shirt and beige pants, while a dark black cloak draped over his shoulders. The sounds of clinking filled the room as he mindlessly drummed his gauntleted fingers on the horned helmet resting on the throne’s arm.
Occasionally, the latter’s figure would flicker, a sign that he wasn’t there and was instead using a thought projection.
Silence between the two stretched on until, finally, another flickering figure emerged from the dark and empty hallway. He, much like the others, was muscular in build with pants and a cloak lined with fur, and an open shirt that revealed several black lines across his dark torso and face. The clinking of a wooden and skull-adorned staff accompanied each step of his heavy boots.
“You’re late, Brain,” said the elderly man.
“Apologies, Lord Hades, but when a certain project of mine broke free she destroyed a lot of equipment in the process. Equipment I’m still repairing,” the dark-skinned man said as he sat in his chair. “How is little Ultear, anyway? I haven’t heard from her since you gave me my most recent apprentice.”
“She is doing remarkably well. I can say with confidence she has the largest collection of tomes regarding the Arc of Time magic in the entire world. And what about your little gifts? The ones you plucked from the Tower?”
“Those six kids are quite gifted, and I would say it's only a matter of time before I have five of them fully trained for combat.”
“Only five? What about that one child Ultear used her possession magic on?”
“Ah, Jellal Fernandes. He’s the one I invited all of you here to talk about. It’s only been a few years and I can quite confidently say he deserves a seat at this table. One of the first lessons proved that he was a prodigy beyond understanding. His first time using the Square of Destruction, a spell I created, he destroyed an entire mountain in one attempt without experiencing any magic fatigue. He was still ten at the time”
“How quaint,” said the man with a spear, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Ah, forgive me for not acknowledging your presence Walraven. It is uncouth of me to bring up matters your unscholarly mind cannot begin to comprehend.”
“Just get on with this little soiree so we can all leave.”
“As you wish,” Brain waved his hands over the topographic map causing a holographic image of the capital of Fiore to appear. “Jellal has successfully managed to infiltrate the Magic Council. He signed up as a member of the academy, yet quickly proved himself too competent for any grading system they could provide. The Council, as the school’s primary ruling body, took notice and prospected him about joining the Rune Knights as a junior investigator. Once again, he continued to prove his prowess, this time as a combatant.”
“Hmm, so that’s why there’s been a rise in the disintegration of the dark guilds under Grimoire Heart’s control,” Hades replied while stroking his beard.
“For the most part, yes. But there has been a rise of powerful young wizards amidst the legal guilds. Two guilds in particular, and they may interest you quite a bit, Hades.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed. They are Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord.”
“Hmm, that surprises me none despite how annoying that is.”
“Alright, your dog has the attention of the Council, but he’s sacrificing our pawns to get that notice. How is that helpful in the slightest?”
“Mard Geer would also like to know.”
A low voice quickly silenced the thoughts of those in the room, causing them all to look towards the hallway as a young man donning a long, black jacket with rolled-up cuffs. The jacket itself is tattered and splits into four torn fabric segments at the tail. Beneath the jacket, he wears a frilly black v-necked shirt, lined in a lighter colour, that closes down the middle and is adorned with a buckle. The rest of his attire is simple, consisting of light-coloured pants that lay lazily over the top of rather plain black boots and have a seam running down the middle. He holds in his hands with care a brown book with the letters E.N.D printed in black letters on the front.
Looking at the three humans he smirked, noticing the obvious apprehension they all had towards his presence. Try as they might to hide it, he could smell their fear hanging around them like a sweet perfume, even if only one of them was present.
“Well? Mard Geer came here to personally grace you with his presence after you sent an invitation, and not only do you do him the discourtesy of being a mere projection, but you remain silent when he asks you a question?”
“F-Forgive me, Underworld King. Your presence is just unexpected is all. I didn't expect you to actually show up.”
“As the hunter here so eloquently put it, your dog is interrupting our operations just as much as the legal guilds. Explain.”
“You see, after leading all of those operations, he has become a candidate for becoming a Wizard Saint. The youngest to ever do so.”
“Mard Geer is curious, how old is this boy?”
“Fourteen, Lord Mard Geer. By the time he is fifteen, it will be guaranteed that he has earned the title of those bestowed upon the ten most respected wizards in the land.”
“Ha! Respected? Please. It’s been almost a month since one of their own has disappeared and none of them have even bothered to come searching for him!”
The announcement from Walraven made the other three curious. While Hades and Mard Geer weren’t scared in the slightest about fighting a Wizard Saint, they all had to admit that the disappearance of one of the Saints should have been something big. Even the most reclusive of the Saints wouldn’t just disappear without it making waves.
“I assume you know something of this then?”
Walraven smirked at the leader of Grimoire Heart before snapping his fingers. The rings on his hand glowed a deep green before a portal of the same colour warped the space behind his seat. From it, a lumbering beast with green fur walked into the meeting room.
It was Wolfheim, trapped in his Ultimate Destruction Incarnate transformation. His eyes glowed the same green as the gem embedded in the heavy metal collar firmly secured around his neck, as well as the rings on Walraven's hand.
“You enslaved your brother, human? Consider Mard Geer entertained.”
“Will he have any awareness of the conversation we’re having?”
“No, Brainless,” Walraven said to Brain’s chagrin, “The collar completely removes any and all awareness from him so long as it doesn’t get in the way of the orders I give.”
“Good,” Brain said before readdressing them all in earnest. “Not only will becoming a Wizard Saint further his standing amongst the Magic Council and Rune Knights, but it also will further his pursuit of becoming a member of the Council himself.”
“So, after all this time we will have roots of our own within the government of Ishgar. This is good news, Brain. But I have one addition to this plan.”
“Oh? What is it, Lord Hades?”
“Ultear has been taking a passive role in this scheme since Jellal’s initial possession. It is time for her to take an active role. As such, she will join him in his pursuit of becoming a member of the Council effective immediately. She will also be ensuring that he doesn’t stray too far from goals that align with our own.”
“I was hoping for that,” Brain turned towards the other two. “Do either of you wish to contribute in the same manner?”
“All of my people would be recognised and detained on the spot.”
“Mard Geer is not fond of you humans, and neither are his subordinates. Still, if you miraculously manage to succeed in this plan, I want your dogs to relay any information you can back to Tartaros about a project known simply as Face.”
“We will make sure to do so, Underworld King. That is all I have to say for the moment, so if any of you have something you would like to inform the rest of us about, the floor is open.”
“I do. It’s in regards to…” Hades started.
The four leaders of the continent’s most powerful dark guilds spoke for hours on subjects that would drastically affect the lives of every citizen, even if it's only in the subtlest of ways.
When it came time to conclude, the two thought projections left in a flicker, leaving only Walraven, the enslaved Wolfheim, and the King of the Underworld Mard Geer Tartaros.
The latter looked at the well-dressed human as if he were some toy in the window of a store, curiosity and and excitement twinkled in his eyes, even if it was hidden under a layer of disgust.
“Entertain me. Why would you go through the effort of enslaving your brother, human?”
Walraven looked at the Etherious with unhidden suspicion and disgust, but knowing he had no chance of defeating him in a confrontation, he choked down his vitriol and spoke. “Because he was a powerful wizard.”
“And that’s enough to enslave him? Was it for pride? A trophy perhaps?”
“It was to make a statement before I start my war.”
“And what statement was that?”
“That magic is a powerful weapon. One that shouldn't exist. One that won’t protect anyone,” Walraven spoke as his grip on his spear tightened.
“I don’t understand. Magic is the only reason you creatures have any strength at all, and yet you seem to hate it?”
“Hades wants a world where only wizards can live, and everyone else is either dead or begging for death. He wants a world that would mean that the ninety percent of the human race that isn’t capable of organically using magic dies. I want the opposite. I want a world without magic, a world where wizards like him can’t exist, a world you Etherious and your damned books would never have been created.”
Mard Geer looked at the green-haired human with surprise and amusement. He was expecting an entertaining response, but what this human suggested was beyond his musings. A sly smile grew on his lips as he responded. “You want to start your own Dragon King Festival.”
It wasn’t a question, Mard Geer was too intelligent to even second guess himself. But he was also old. One of the oldest Etherious still living to this day, meaning he saw the Dragon King Festival, an event that happened over four hundred years ago where dragons led a civil war against their kin. One faction wanted to enslave humans, while the other wanted to live amongst them. It was this second faction that created Dragon Slayer Magic, a magic given to humans that allowed them to fight against the behemoths. With time though, those humans began to kill the same dragons they sided with and eventually began to turn into dragons themselves. This cycle continued, never-ending, until only one dragon remained and dubbed himself the Dragon King.
Afterwards, humans everywhere grew exceedingly wary of magic. Practising it became outlawed in almost every country on Earthland, and witch hunts became commonplace. That was up until one hundred years ago when the first legal magic guild, Magia Dragon, came along and changed human perceptions.
It was single-handedly the fruits of the Dragon King Festival that made every magic that existed before and after the war considered a lost age magic. The scholars before the conflict had ages to study and craft powerful spells to perfection, and most magics made since would pale in comparison to what existed before.
It was obvious to Mard Geer that this human wanted to create a similar result, and his method was standing right behind him. “You want to use your brother, and many like him, to usher in a new fear of magic. Simply incredible.”
Mard Geer didn’t even mind that the human had insulted his kind, and by proxy, his creator. He was too amused about the opportunity that landed in his lap, and he was ready to play the puppet’s strings like a master.
“Something like this had occurred once before, you know. Thousands of years ago.”
Walraven hadn’t heard of this before. The only reason he had any knowledge of the Dragon King Festival was because he was a history buff, one of the most prolific in the world. For there to be an event of such magnitude that he hadn’t heard of it, no matter the source, he would be intrigued.
“What transpired?”
“It was an event Mard Geer likes to refer to as Heaven’s Folly,” the Etherious began, knowing full well he had him hooked. “Demons, angels, and gods all waging a three proxy war against each other. The demons were the instigators, seeking to destroy the angels as thoroughly as possible. Ultimately, they managed to succeed but through a move that would simultaneously spell devastation for their race. They devoured the souls of gods.”
“Seven demons, in particular, each having said to be manifestations of the deadly sins were the ones that did so. This move provoked the gods, making the race that was already tired through the fight with the angels take the back foot for the fight. Unlike the Dragon King Festival which lasted years, this lasted nearly a century. Anyone with sentience was drawn into the conflict, be they celestial spirits, dragons, or humans.”
“Before long the demon race would be reduced into a fragment of its former self, no longer the warriors they once were. The gods, while faring better, would also largely resign from the human world in any physical manner. However, humans with their favour can still summon them, such as the Yakuma Eighteen Battlegods, or humans can offer up their bodies for possession through methods similar to Godsoul.”
“The wake of the conflict lasted for twice as long as the conflict itself, but eventually, the dragons and humans would eventually begin building their own civilizations again, but magic would be placed under heavy scrutiny by the gods with the introduction of taboos. Many feared the populace using magic because of these taboos, so only designated locations or the foolish dared attempt it. It could not be fully outlawed back then because of the ever-present threat of dragons, but reckless use of it would be met with ridicule.”
Walraven took the time to digest what the Etherious had just said. Frankly, it astonished him to think of the scale of such a conflict, but more importantly, he was confused as to why Mard Geer was telling him any of this.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing you do, human. A world without magic.”
Mard Geer sipped from his look of suspicion like it was a fine wine. He loved the look of annoyance that grew on a human’s face when you had knowledge they wanted, knowledge that they were getting, but could never use to paint a full picture in their head.
“Mard Geer mentioned earlier about Face, an anti-magic weapon that the Magic Council has information on. Mard Geer wants it, and if you can make humans suspicious towards magic again, then it will be a matter of Mard Geer opening his hands and taking Face without any complications.”
“But Mard Geer also knows that you’re a successful hunter by trade, and he wants you to hunt down a quarry that will be good for us both.”
“Now you’re speaking in a way I can understand. What’s the beast.”
“The demons that attempted to devour the gods could never do so fully and instead used a black magic technique that allowed them to seal the gods they consumed within their own souls. Traces of this magic can still be found throughout their blood to this day, and Mard Geer wants to know the technique the demons, known as Overlords, used to seal the gods. Mard Geer has hunted down six of the seven Overlords, but none of them carried the knowledge he sought. But what he does know is that the first Overlord, the one known as Aetna, still exists.”
“This demon devoured the soul of the god of war, and as the conflicts grew onward the name Aetna became a title to the one who devoured the previous Overlord of Wrath and War. Its soul became further and further encased inside a nesting doll of other souls and with it the knowledge of the ritual they used on themselves and the other Overlords. Mard Geer wants this knowledge, and as payment, he will turn you into a demon so that you may devour the god of war for yourself. This will ensure that you win this conflict that we both will benefit from.”
The hunter stared at the table for several minutes, his eyes distant as he considered the proposal in earnest. Mard Geer waited patiently, the idea of watching the humans tear each other apart before giving him a weapon that would spell death for their entire race too enticing.
The hunter sighed before standing up and staring at the Etherious. “Walraven will consider your offer,” he said in a sarcastic imitation of the Etherious’ speech, “But don’t expect results. If this ‘Aetna’ has been able to hide for this long, then they may very well be dead.”
“Mard Geer will be waiting to see the results of whatever route you choose nonetheless, human. But be wary. All accounts Mard Geer has suggests that it was this demon's existence in particular that is singlehandedly responsible for the duration of the conflict.”
The two then left the temple, not even bothering to acknowledge the other for an instant longer.
— * —
“Were you watching, Jellal?”
“I was indeed, Brain,” said the blue-haired boy as he reclined on the throne he built for himself inside the Tower of Heaven, “that green-haired fool just gave us the perfect opportunity to cement myself as a Wizard Saint.”
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.
.
.
.
.
Inside a temple deep within the heart of a desert, sat in a room buried deep within its structure was a large round table with a topographical map of Earthland carved into its stone surface. In two of the half-dozen thrones that sat around its circumference were two men.
The first was in his thirties, the physical prime of his life, and didn’t even deign to give the one sitting across from him any attention. He was instead focused on the sword spear in his lap. The bluish-purple metal of the blade glinted to reveal his reflection, his dark and sickly green hair was slicked back and a thick moustache tilted downwards as he frowned in irritation. Unbeffiting of his broad and muscular stature, he wore a corset that thinned his waist and overlaid a white shirt. The formal trousers he wore completed the look of refinement he seemed to be looking for, but the thick and heavy boots counteracted the gentlemanly appearance.
Across from him sat an elderly man of equal stature, one of his green eyes having been covered up by an eyepatch. His long and white hair stretched down to his lower back while the long beard curled on his lap towards the end. He wore a red button-up shirt and beige pants, while a dark black cloak draped over his shoulders. The sounds of clinking filled the room as he mindlessly drummed his gauntleted fingers on the horned helmet resting on the throne’s arm.
Occasionally, the latter’s figure would flicker, a sign that he wasn’t there and was instead using a thought projection.
Silence between the two stretched on until, finally, another flickering figure emerged from the dark and empty hallway. He, much like the others, was muscular in build with pants and a cloak lined with fur, and an open shirt that revealed several black lines across his dark torso and face. The clinking of a wooden and skull-adorned staff accompanied each step of his heavy boots.
“You’re late, Brain,” said the elderly man.
“Apologies, Lord Hades, but when a certain project of mine broke free she destroyed a lot of equipment in the process. Equipment I’m still repairing,” the dark-skinned man said as he sat in his chair. “How is little Ultear, anyway? I haven’t heard from her since you gave me my most recent apprentice.”
“She is doing remarkably well. I can say with confidence she has the largest collection of tomes regarding the Arc of Time magic in the entire world. And what about your little gifts? The ones you plucked from the Tower?”
“Those six kids are quite gifted, and I would say it's only a matter of time before I have five of them fully trained for combat.”
“Only five? What about that one child Ultear used her possession magic on?”
“Ah, Jellal Fernandes. He’s the one I invited all of you here to talk about. It’s only been a few years and I can quite confidently say he deserves a seat at this table. One of the first lessons proved that he was a prodigy beyond understanding. His first time using the Square of Destruction, a spell I created, he destroyed an entire mountain in one attempt without experiencing any magic fatigue. He was still ten at the time”
“How quaint,” said the man with a spear, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Ah, forgive me for not acknowledging your presence Walraven. It is uncouth of me to bring up matters your unscholarly mind cannot begin to comprehend.”
“Just get on with this little soiree so we can all leave.”
“As you wish,” Brain waved his hands over the topographic map causing a holographic image of the capital of Fiore to appear. “Jellal has successfully managed to infiltrate the Magic Council. He signed up as a member of the academy, yet quickly proved himself too competent for any grading system they could provide. The Council, as the school’s primary ruling body, took notice and prospected him about joining the Rune Knights as a junior investigator. Once again, he continued to prove his prowess, this time as a combatant.”
“Hmm, so that’s why there’s been a rise in the disintegration of the dark guilds under Grimoire Heart’s control,” Hades replied while stroking his beard.
“For the most part, yes. But there has been a rise of powerful young wizards amidst the legal guilds. Two guilds in particular, and they may interest you quite a bit, Hades.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed. They are Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord.”
“Hmm, that surprises me none despite how annoying that is.”
“Alright, your dog has the attention of the Council, but he’s sacrificing our pawns to get that notice. How is that helpful in the slightest?”
“Mard Geer would also like to know.”
A low voice quickly silenced the thoughts of those in the room, causing them all to look towards the hallway as a young man donning a long, black jacket with rolled-up cuffs. The jacket itself is tattered and splits into four torn fabric segments at the tail. Beneath the jacket, he wears a frilly black v-necked shirt, lined in a lighter colour, that closes down the middle and is adorned with a buckle. The rest of his attire is simple, consisting of light-coloured pants that lay lazily over the top of rather plain black boots and have a seam running down the middle. He holds in his hands with care a brown book with the letters E.N.D printed in black letters on the front.
Looking at the three humans he smirked, noticing the obvious apprehension they all had towards his presence. Try as they might to hide it, he could smell their fear hanging around them like a sweet perfume, even if only one of them was present.
“Well? Mard Geer came here to personally grace you with his presence after you sent an invitation, and not only do you do him the discourtesy of being a mere projection, but you remain silent when he asks you a question?”
“F-Forgive me, Underworld King. Your presence is just unexpected is all. I didn't expect you to actually show up.”
“As the hunter here so eloquently put it, your dog is interrupting our operations just as much as the legal guilds. Explain.”
“You see, after leading all of those operations, he has become a candidate for becoming a Wizard Saint. The youngest to ever do so.”
“Mard Geer is curious, how old is this boy?”
“Fourteen, Lord Mard Geer. By the time he is fifteen, it will be guaranteed that he has earned the title of those bestowed upon the ten most respected wizards in the land.”
“Ha! Respected? Please. It’s been almost a month since one of their own has disappeared and none of them have even bothered to come searching for him!”
The announcement from Walraven made the other three curious. While Hades and Mard Geer weren’t scared in the slightest about fighting a Wizard Saint, they all had to admit that the disappearance of one of the Saints should have been something big. Even the most reclusive of the Saints wouldn’t just disappear without it making waves.
“I assume you know something of this then?”
Walraven smirked at the leader of Grimoire Heart before snapping his fingers. The rings on his hand glowed a deep green before a portal of the same colour warped the space behind his seat. From it, a lumbering beast with green fur walked into the meeting room.
It was Wolfheim, trapped in his Ultimate Destruction Incarnate transformation. His eyes glowed the same green as the gem embedded in the heavy metal collar firmly secured around his neck, as well as the rings on Walraven's hand.
“You enslaved your brother, human? Consider Mard Geer entertained.”
“Will he have any awareness of the conversation we’re having?”
“No, Brainless,” Walraven said to Brain’s chagrin, “The collar completely removes any and all awareness from him so long as it doesn’t get in the way of the orders I give.”
“Good,” Brain said before readdressing them all in earnest. “Not only will becoming a Wizard Saint further his standing amongst the Magic Council and Rune Knights, but it also will further his pursuit of becoming a member of the Council himself.”
“So, after all this time we will have roots of our own within the government of Ishgar. This is good news, Brain. But I have one addition to this plan.”
“Oh? What is it, Lord Hades?”
“Ultear has been taking a passive role in this scheme since Jellal’s initial possession. It is time for her to take an active role. As such, she will join him in his pursuit of becoming a member of the Council effective immediately. She will also be ensuring that he doesn’t stray too far from goals that align with our own.”
“I was hoping for that,” Brain turned towards the other two. “Do either of you wish to contribute in the same manner?”
“All of my people would be recognised and detained on the spot.”
“Mard Geer is not fond of you humans, and neither are his subordinates. Still, if you miraculously manage to succeed in this plan, I want your dogs to relay any information you can back to Tartaros about a project known simply as Face.”
“We will make sure to do so, Underworld King. That is all I have to say for the moment, so if any of you have something you would like to inform the rest of us about, the floor is open.”
“I do. It’s in regards to…” Hades started.
The four leaders of the continent’s most powerful dark guilds spoke for hours on subjects that would drastically affect the lives of every citizen, even if it's only in the subtlest of ways.
When it came time to conclude, the two thought projections left in a flicker, leaving only Walraven, the enslaved Wolfheim, and the King of the Underworld Mard Geer Tartaros.
The latter looked at the well-dressed human as if he were some toy in the window of a store, curiosity and and excitement twinkled in his eyes, even if it was hidden under a layer of disgust.
“Entertain me. Why would you go through the effort of enslaving your brother, human?”
Walraven looked at the Etherious with unhidden suspicion and disgust, but knowing he had no chance of defeating him in a confrontation, he choked down his vitriol and spoke. “Because he was a powerful wizard.”
“And that’s enough to enslave him? Was it for pride? A trophy perhaps?”
“It was to make a statement before I start my war.”
“And what statement was that?”
“That magic is a powerful weapon. One that shouldn't exist. One that won’t protect anyone,” Walraven spoke as his grip on his spear tightened.
“I don’t understand. Magic is the only reason you creatures have any strength at all, and yet you seem to hate it?”
“Hades wants a world where only wizards can live, and everyone else is either dead or begging for death. He wants a world that would mean that the ninety percent of the human race that isn’t capable of organically using magic dies. I want the opposite. I want a world without magic, a world where wizards like him can’t exist, a world you Etherious and your damned books would never have been created.”
Mard Geer looked at the green-haired human with surprise and amusement. He was expecting an entertaining response, but what this human suggested was beyond his musings. A sly smile grew on his lips as he responded. “You want to start your own Dragon King Festival.”
It wasn’t a question, Mard Geer was too intelligent to even second guess himself. But he was also old. One of the oldest Etherious still living to this day, meaning he saw the Dragon King Festival, an event that happened over four hundred years ago where dragons led a civil war against their kin. One faction wanted to enslave humans, while the other wanted to live amongst them. It was this second faction that created Dragon Slayer Magic, a magic given to humans that allowed them to fight against the behemoths. With time though, those humans began to kill the same dragons they sided with and eventually began to turn into dragons themselves. This cycle continued, never-ending, until only one dragon remained and dubbed himself the Dragon King.
Afterwards, humans everywhere grew exceedingly wary of magic. Practising it became outlawed in almost every country on Earthland, and witch hunts became commonplace. That was up until one hundred years ago when the first legal magic guild, Magia Dragon, came along and changed human perceptions.
It was single-handedly the fruits of the Dragon King Festival that made every magic that existed before and after the war considered a lost age magic. The scholars before the conflict had ages to study and craft powerful spells to perfection, and most magics made since would pale in comparison to what existed before.
It was obvious to Mard Geer that this human wanted to create a similar result, and his method was standing right behind him. “You want to use your brother, and many like him, to usher in a new fear of magic. Simply incredible.”
Mard Geer didn’t even mind that the human had insulted his kind, and by proxy, his creator. He was too amused about the opportunity that landed in his lap, and he was ready to play the puppet’s strings like a master.
“Something like this had occurred once before, you know. Thousands of years ago.”
Walraven hadn’t heard of this before. The only reason he had any knowledge of the Dragon King Festival was because he was a history buff, one of the most prolific in the world. For there to be an event of such magnitude that he hadn’t heard of it, no matter the source, he would be intrigued.
“What transpired?”
“It was an event Mard Geer likes to refer to as Heaven’s Folly,” the Etherious began, knowing full well he had him hooked. “Demons, angels, and gods all waging a three proxy war against each other. The demons were the instigators, seeking to destroy the angels as thoroughly as possible. Ultimately, they managed to succeed but through a move that would simultaneously spell devastation for their race. They devoured the souls of gods.”
“Seven demons, in particular, each having said to be manifestations of the deadly sins were the ones that did so. This move provoked the gods, making the race that was already tired through the fight with the angels take the back foot for the fight. Unlike the Dragon King Festival which lasted years, this lasted nearly a century. Anyone with sentience was drawn into the conflict, be they celestial spirits, dragons, or humans.”
“Before long the demon race would be reduced into a fragment of its former self, no longer the warriors they once were. The gods, while faring better, would also largely resign from the human world in any physical manner. However, humans with their favour can still summon them, such as the Yakuma Eighteen Battlegods, or humans can offer up their bodies for possession through methods similar to Godsoul.”
“The wake of the conflict lasted for twice as long as the conflict itself, but eventually, the dragons and humans would eventually begin building their own civilizations again, but magic would be placed under heavy scrutiny by the gods with the introduction of taboos. Many feared the populace using magic because of these taboos, so only designated locations or the foolish dared attempt it. It could not be fully outlawed back then because of the ever-present threat of dragons, but reckless use of it would be met with ridicule.”
Walraven took the time to digest what the Etherious had just said. Frankly, it astonished him to think of the scale of such a conflict, but more importantly, he was confused as to why Mard Geer was telling him any of this.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing you do, human. A world without magic.”
Mard Geer sipped from his look of suspicion like it was a fine wine. He loved the look of annoyance that grew on a human’s face when you had knowledge they wanted, knowledge that they were getting, but could never use to paint a full picture in their head.
“Mard Geer mentioned earlier about Face, an anti-magic weapon that the Magic Council has information on. Mard Geer wants it, and if you can make humans suspicious towards magic again, then it will be a matter of Mard Geer opening his hands and taking Face without any complications.”
“But Mard Geer also knows that you’re a successful hunter by trade, and he wants you to hunt down a quarry that will be good for us both.”
“Now you’re speaking in a way I can understand. What’s the beast.”
“The demons that attempted to devour the gods could never do so fully and instead used a black magic technique that allowed them to seal the gods they consumed within their own souls. Traces of this magic can still be found throughout their blood to this day, and Mard Geer wants to know the technique the demons, known as Overlords, used to seal the gods. Mard Geer has hunted down six of the seven Overlords, but none of them carried the knowledge he sought. But what he does know is that the first Overlord, the one known as Aetna, still exists.”
“This demon devoured the soul of the god of war, and as the conflicts grew onward the name Aetna became a title to the one who devoured the previous Overlord of Wrath and War. Its soul became further and further encased inside a nesting doll of other souls and with it the knowledge of the ritual they used on themselves and the other Overlords. Mard Geer wants this knowledge, and as payment, he will turn you into a demon so that you may devour the god of war for yourself. This will ensure that you win this conflict that we both will benefit from.”
The hunter stared at the table for several minutes, his eyes distant as he considered the proposal in earnest. Mard Geer waited patiently, the idea of watching the humans tear each other apart before giving him a weapon that would spell death for their entire race too enticing.
The hunter sighed before standing up and staring at the Etherious. “Walraven will consider your offer,” he said in a sarcastic imitation of the Etherious’ speech, “But don’t expect results. If this ‘Aetna’ has been able to hide for this long, then they may very well be dead.”
“Mard Geer will be waiting to see the results of whatever route you choose nonetheless, human. But be wary. All accounts Mard Geer has suggests that it was this demon's existence in particular that is singlehandedly responsible for the duration of the conflict.”
The two then left the temple, not even bothering to acknowledge the other for an instant longer.
— * —
“Were you watching, Jellal?”
“I was indeed, Brain,” said the blue-haired boy as he reclined on the throne he built for himself inside the Tower of Heaven, “that green-haired fool just gave us the perfect opportunity to cement myself as a Wizard Saint.”
.
.
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