Vol 5 Chapter 43: Interlude – The Shadow of The Magocracy

Ortessa, the capital of Marchen

"Fire! Spread Formation!"

Flames rained down from the sky at the woman's command, generated by the hundreds of mages standing on the city walls, slamming into the horde of golems that were inching closer and closer to where they were.

Nothing. The flames didn't burn down a single golem.

"Thunder! Concentrated Formation!"

The mages raised their staves in unison, concentrating their mana into creating thunderclouds that rained down lightning at the golems.

Failure. The crystalline constructs only received light charrings from the spell.

"Earth! Chasm Formation!"

The mages raised their staves for the third time, opening the ground wide, making the golems fall to the deep chasm below.

Yes! It worked! The woman clenched her fist with a smile as her long brown hair flew in the wind.

Her name was Glinda Fernwood and she and her mages were the last line of defense against the Magocracy's invasion.

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It all happened in a flash. When the news reached the capital that the mage empire had begun their invasion, the golems had already reached Aarom and smashed the defenses there. The kingdom gathered their army, bracing themselves for the assault at the capital, sacrificing the other cities in the process.

They knew they couldn't win. But they had to try. The king and the nobles refused to bow down to the authority of the mages, even if it meant sacrificing thousands of their citizens' lives.

And so it was that Glinda became the impromptu mage general. Being the strongest witch in the country, only she stood a chance in countering their vile magic constructs, for no spears, arrows, or swords could harm the golems in any significant way. They didn't have the Imperial Knights of the Holy Empire and no S-rank adventurer was willing to be on their side, even when bribed with a mountain of gold and land.

It was all up to her and the mage unit she had trained. It was her own initiative, to create a unit dedicated as magical support in case of a war. She managed to poach many talents over the years, from the kingdom's own citizens to retired adventurers.

Glinda eyed the remaining golems who had yet to fall. They had stopped at the edge of the chasm, standing without the slightest hint of movement.

And then, it happened.

From the bottomless pit she had created, a swarm of crystals flew upwards. One by one, they stacked and linked with each other, forming the very same golems she just sent to their doom.

Her smile disappeared. Fear crept into her heart—fear from the realization that this was it. This was the end of the road for her—for this kingdom. She got nothing left up her sleeve. Her tornadoes? Her pride and joy as a Master-level Wind mage?  The golems simply bore it like it was nothing.

"W-what do we do, Lady Glinda? Nothing's working! They—they're going to get here at any moment!" One of the mages asked her.

She couldn't answer. She could only look with dread as the other general down below ordered his men to charge. There was no doubt in her mind that they would only be slaughtered to the very last men.

Her only hope now was her friend, Arya Cordova, the royal spymaster. She disappeared the moment she learned of the invasion, saying that she had a plan of her own to execute.

If only I have you two here…. Hugo Greenwood… Marina Greenwood…

The news had indeed reached her ears—of all their accomplishments and all the dangers they had braved. She had asked Arya to gather all the news she could about them, simply out of her own, personal curiosity. And so, she knew about how Marina was unjustly condemned to the horrible fate of being a puppet of the so-called Saint and how Hugo had drawn the ire of the Church after saving a necromancer.

They were powerful mages. Both of them. Even more powerful than she was.

The screams of the soldiers entered her ears. Her mages fired any spells they had to no avail. The crystal golems—they were simply unstoppable.

She had no choice. She had to persuade the king to—

"Guwaahhh!"

A mage fell. And another. And another. One by one her subordinates fell, as if they were struck down by an invisible force.

It didn't take long until she identified the attacker.

Somehow, unbeknownst to them, an intruder had sneaked in, climbing up their walls undetected. That intruder was now standing behind them on top of the walls, with a wand on his hand and a grin on his face. And his greeting was somehow taking out a handful of their mages without any visible spells.

No, that wasn't right. Glancing at one of the bodies with his bloodied abdomen, she could only imagine him firing something into his stomach. Possibly at high speed. She couldn't see what that thing was however.

"Thinking of surrendering? You should. You guys know you can't win, right?"

With a swish of his wand, five more mages died in an instant.

"You… you bastard!"

The mages fired their fastest spells, which were mostly Beginner-level magic. The intruder simply countered by conjuring an earthen sphere around him, shielding him completely from the hundreds of fireballs heading his way.

Glinda didn't hesitate. Whoever he was, he could only be working with the Magocracy. If he was stupid enough to go this deep into enemy territory without backup, it was his own fault if he lost his live.

"Hundred Blades!"

She didn't have any Master-level spell that she could safely use this close of a range. However, she did have an Advanced-level spell of her own invention that would fit perfectly against a singular, unprotected opponent like him.

The man retreated, jumping down the wall into the city side as his protective sphere collapsed. But Glinda's spell was ready. The air around him formed into blades, chasing after him.

He couldn't dodge them. All 147 blades landed on his body.

Only, they failed to pierce his skin completely.

Glinda, who saw it taking place from on top of the wall, gritted her teeth.

She immediately knew why it failed. Stoneskin. He had turned his skin into stone.

"Nice try, Lady Glinda." The man grinned. His skin was now covered in a rough gray layer, a result of the Stoneskin spell he had cast. He was a master of Dual Casting after all so he could create the protective sphere while casting it at the same time.

"Now, my turn."

He aimed his wand at the stone wall in front of him.

Glinda's heart sank. I have to stop him! She swiftly reacted, casting a simple Wind Blade spell to stop him.

But once again, he utilized his Dual Casting ability to his advantage, blocking the attack by a simple earth wall.

"O Father of rocks, sands, and dust! Grant life to your kin so they may strike my enemies! Living Earth!"

With a grin on his face, he swished his wand to the side.

A loud, deafening roar filled the air followed by an earthquake that immobilized Glinda and the mages under her command.

No, it wasn't an earthquake. The wall they were on—it was shaking rapidly!

Cracks promptly formed on the floor they stood before giving way to holes that the mages would one by one fall into. One tried to run away to the nearest staircase, only to find that the tower leading there was collapsing as well. The poor man was crushed in an instant by the falling rocks, which might be a better fate than dying by being buried alive.

Glinda gritted her teeth. She had to—she had to do something!

Quickly, she conjured a strong wind, blowing her and the remaining mages off the crumbling wall. She would then cast another wind spell, softening their landing on the ground below.

Only, it never happened.

For the crumbling wall shot out a large rock in her direction, hitting her at the back.

Knocking her out in an instant.

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When she woke up, the first thing she felt was the piercing icy grip that wrapped itself around her hands and feet.

Her body—it was in chains.

But she wasn't locked up in some dungeon. No, she was on her very own luxurious bed. This was her room. There was no doubt about it in the slightest. The drawers, the bookshelves, the chandeliers—they were all the same.

And yet, she could see him clear as day—the demon that had taken her as his prisoner—the mage general from the Magocracy. He was grinning in delight at her awakening—a view that disgusted her to the very core.

She tried to attack him with magic only to find she had no mana to gather. These chains—they were sapping her magic away!

Of course. He wasn't a fool. He knew I was a capable mage. She'd do the same if she ever caught a mage prisoner.

She looked down. Her body was completely naked from top to bottom.

She wasn't naive. She knew what he wanted. He might even have done it already. After all, she was completely nude from top to bottom.

The war was lost. And she was taken by him as his spoil.

"Do whatever you wish with me," she said with a defiant look. "Just leave my servants alone."

"Oh, don't worry." He chuckled, placing his hand on her left breast, giving it a good squeeze. "In the three days you were out of commission, I gave the pretty ones a good time. As for the ugly ones, I've dismissed them. Some, unfortunately, tried to save you, which meant I had to punish them. What were their names again?" He tapped his chin with a mocking grin. "Ah yes… Heydel, Merkel, and Fantina…"

"You… you bastard!" She yelled, her eyes blazing in anger. Her chains stirred as she leaped forward, fully intending to beat this smug man to the inch of his life. But alas. The chains were attached firmly to the walls and floors, leaving no chance for her to escape.

"Why are you here? Why is the Magocracy here? Why are you doing all of this?! First, you declared that your Mira had returned! Now, you're trying to conquer the whole continent! I thought necromancy is forbidden in your nation!"

The man chuckled. "Oh, dearie… You should very well that the rules only apply to the common masses. Us, the ruling class, we can do whatever we desire." He lied. Of course, he couldn't tell her that Mira technically resurrected herself.

"And now, our dear leader wishes to create a paradise for us mages. And to do that, all nations in the world must bow down to her rule. Including your little kingdom." He cupped her cheeks. "So, how about it?" He whispered close to her ears. "As a mage yourself, surely you can emphasize with our cause. I'm quite sure the nobles of this kingdom disgust you with their foolish politics."

He paused. Bending down, his mouth gently chewed on her right earlobe, earning a frightened, disgusted look from the mage.

Taking off his lips, he straightened himself. With a smile, he then said, "If so, be my wife. I'll ensure you'll have a better life on my side as a part of the Vehta family." He adjusted his monocle.

"Oh, apologies. I haven't introduced myself, have I? My name is Locht Vehta, the firstborn son of the Vehta family. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Glinda." He gave a short bow.

A spit to the face.

It was, naturally, what Glinda's response to his offer was. A wife?! Who would want to be a wife to a disgusting pervert like him?!

"...Still quite the spirited woman, aren't you?"

His expression changed. He was still smiling but there was now a barely concealed anger underneath that smile.

"I suppose I'll just have to show you your friend then."

Her heart sank.

Friend? Is he talking about Arya? No, that can't be. She can't be captured that easily!

With a wave of his wand, the room began to shake. The floor slowly lowered, carrying with it the entire bedroom, including the two mages.

What? Is this… an elevator? Did he turn my room into an elevator?! H-how? Did he change the structure of the mansion while I'm unconscious?! Only someone who has mastered Earth magic can do something like that!

She knew very well that those of the ruling families of the Magocracy tend to be really powerful mages, far surpassing ordinary folks like her. She might be a Master-level Wind mage but she couldn't do what he did. She could only create massive tornadoes, not create wind constructs or fill the lungs of her opponents with toxic gasses. That was what the former Grandmaster-level Wind Mage Lana Albatross was capable of, or so she learned from the historical texts she perused back when she studied at the Academy.

The floor soon stopped, and with another swish of his wand, the wall slid open.

Revealing the cold, dark dungeons underneath the mansion.

Glinda never liked the place. The former noble who used to own the place would use it to imprison citizens he didn't like in secret, against the knowledge of the king. Thanks to that, when his crime was known by His Majesty, he was executed in an instant. As for his family, they were banished from the kingdom instead.

But, when the king gave her the mansion, he told her not to bury the place. He wanted to use it for magic-capable prisoners since they would be too dangerous to be kept at the castle's dungeons. As a mage herself, she would know how to handle them safely.

Still, the dungeons were empty these days, with no mages that upsetted the king well enough for them to be thrown here.

Unfortunately, that was a fact that would soon change.

"Now, walk with me."

He moved his wand once again, this time detaching the chains that bound Glinda from the walls and floors.

Glinda, naturally, took the golden chance he just gave to her.

She ran forward, pushing him aside so she could escape the room. The door would no doubt lead to a wall of dirt since they were now underground so her only chance to escape was the stairs heading up from the dungeons itself. The chains followed her, clanging against the cold stone floor as she dragged them along. She still couldn't use her magic thanks to them. To her left and right were a series of empty cells while ahead of her was a seemingly endless hallway, dimly lit by the torches hung on the support pillars in the middle.

When she reached the end of said hallway, she froze.

A-Arya?!

There, chained up on the wall, was the spymaster herself, with her face bruised and battered, to the point that it became unrecognizable. It wasn't just her face that was in a wretched state, for her naked skin was filled with fresh gashes and wounds, a clear sign of what could only be described as torture.

Glinda covered her mouth, tears swelling in her eyes.

"The bitch tried to assassinate me in my sleep, can you believe it?" Locht declared with a grin. "So I taught her a lesson. And a very good one at that." He chuckled.

Glinda ran, but not away from the bespectacled mage. Instead, she ran towards him, fury clouding her judgment, as all she wanted was to smash his head in and wipe that smug look on his face.

Only for her to trip in the most pathetic way as the earth mage created a small bump on the stone floor. She landed face first, bloodying her nose in the process.

"Haah, how disappointing. You're cute but you're just as stupid as the rest of them." He shook his head before crouching down, lifting her head by grabbing her hair. "Our nation was gracious enough to offer you a place in the Magocracy's chosen yet you rejected our offer, preferring to work under the thumb of these non-mage baboons instead." He then slammed it back down, grinding her wounded nose into the stone. "I'll have my way with you. And then, I'll kill you, just like I've killed your friend. But, before that, I have something I want to ask of you. And, depending on your answer, I might just spare your beloved servants." He yanked her head back up, looking at her straight in the eye. "Now, tell me, did you meet a girl named Marina Greenwood some years ago?"

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The capital city of Mira, inside the Magocracy

One month later, inside the Sage's Tower, a meeting between the Council mages was in session.

All five of Council Mages were present, sitting on their lofty chairs suspended in mid-air as they discussed and spoke with each other.

Mira, however, was conspicuously absent.

"I trust everything is proceeding as planned?" Merlinus Salamander spoke, his low, growling voice booming inside the chamber.

"But of course," Monas Vehta answered, his old, decrepit face forming a toad-like smile. "My children are nothing like yours, Merlinus. Hobbiton, Marchen, Tolany, Aresha, Utia, Aja—they're all under our control."

"And the gnomes? The dwarves? Amereria? Ferus?"

"The gnomes are, as always, under our influence," Opal Lestat answered, her lips pursed. "Amereria—they have signed a pact with us. As for the dwarves, it would only be a matter of time until they relented. With the prices of crops rising thanks to the weakening of the leyline, causing crop failure everywhere, only farms blessed by magic could survive. They would no doubt starve."

"And Ferus?"

Silence. Opal gave a loud huff before she answered.

"They have ignored the letters we've sent so far. It seems they will need a visit from us them to change their mind."

All of them were aware of the certain change that had occurred to the kingdom. How some self-proclaimed saintess took over, utilizing Marina Greenwood as her pet. And they also knew that Marina Greenwood was practically on par with their own magic, or at least, on par with Vera. From their spies, which they had in every kingdom in the continent, they knew she had reached the level of a Grandmaster-level mage.

"You should've killed her." Opal glared at Selendia. "You should've killed Marina Greenwood. You know she has the potential. And you know she'll never join us, not after Vera killed her family."

Selendia smiled at the old lady, hiding a giggle with her hand. "Oh my, I am not that heartless, you know. And besides, Lady Mira and Lady Ilyhmrra believed she wouldn't be a threat to us. They even told us to leave her alone. Who are we to presume otherwise?"

"No matter." Vehta interrupted with an annoyed expression. "Ferus will not be a threat. I'll simply order Lochs to go there now that he has finished his task. Now, let us talk about the other side. The Church and The Holy Empire."

"So far, there are no signs of them planning an assault," Selendia answered. "I believe they prefer to defend over to attack. Especially after their emperor kicked the bucket recently." She giggled again.

"Good," Merlinus grinned. "That will buy us time to enact our plan to completion."

"Hmph," Vehta huffed. "If only we still have the artifacts, we will not need to cower like this."

He was, of course, referring to artifacts Mira left behind. Using the soul trapped inside, one could cast magic far beyond their level. It was how that gnome Vera managed to cast an Archmage-level magic all those years ago. Of course, she only possessed one of them, hidden away inside her magic laboratory in the depths of the Uvarsa Mountain, where she desperately tried to reactivate its effect. It had gone dormant after she used it against Rana as it had exhausted the mana it had accumulated from hundreds of years.

As for the rest, the Magocracy had gathered painstakingly from all over the world throughout the centuries, held secretly in every major house as family heirlooms.

No one knew how the artifacts were lost in the first place. The Council theorized some of their predecessors didn't want MIra to be resurrected. As such, they hid them away.

Unfortunately, since they had used them to resurrect Mira, the artifacts had lost their strength. They would have no choice but to rely on their own strength in this war.

Indeed, Mira had declared to them that she wouldn't lift a finger to help. She wanted to test their strength and see who would be worthy to become her successor.

"That Mira," Vehta continued. "She doesn't want to attack. With her strength, taking care of the Imperial Knights should be no problem whatsoever."

With Vera gone, the Magocracy's military might was definitely behind the Empire. Attacking across the ocean would be suicide.

Merlinus laughed. "It is a shame! A terrible shame indeed! But Lady Mira is not some battle-hungry maniac like me! She wouldn't fight unless it was necessary! And as her disciple, it is our job to ensure she would never need to enter the battlefield!"

Opal sighed. She could never get along well with the man. Or the rest of the Council for that matter.

She stood up from her flying seat. Instead of falling down to the floor below like you would expect, she remained in the air. Her feet sparkled with thunder as she addressed the rest of the Council.

"I'll speak to her. I wish to know why she refuses to partake in this war that she declares herself. Doesn't she wish for a paradise of mages like we all?"

With a loud flash, the old woman disappeared. Only the smell of burning air remained.