Chapter 4: Chapter 3: Allure of Ascension

Neir felt all the muscles in his body tense. Not because he was the target of an archmage’s aura, but because he was facing the man he both loved and hated most. 

He let a moment pass, then  sighed discreetly, quelling the emotions boiling through his veins.

“Please don’t view me in that light, my lord,” he said in Helathi, hand on his chest, keeping his voice respectful yet wilful. “You’ll find that I’m more resilient than a mouse—I have more similarities with snaroaches, I think.”

The glow in Baisal’s eyes flickered brightly. “It seems Rrynd has raised a competent soldier,” he said, feigning admiration. He then pushed most of the clutter on the surface of the table to the side, rummaging for something. “Is that why he suddenly feels the need to spit in my mouth?”

The fine hairs on Neir’s forearms perked up as the temperature in the room dropped.

“I told him—I warned them all—the Helath vernacular shan’t leave the Inner Circle,” Baisal continued, picking up a fist-size orb. “So then, why is it that you speak in my tongue so fluently? What important calamity forced your lord to break his oath?”

“It’s—”

A terrible cracking reverberated in the frigid air, the orb in Baisal’s hand splitting apart. The shards bit into his palm, drawing blood. Neir stared, confused as the man threw bits of glass into the air. They froze, suspending mid-air, then each individual piece spilled dull crimson beams that weaved together to form a screen of light.

There was a bright flash.

Neir shut his eyes, belatedly realizing what Baisal was doing. He blinked, the light fading as fast as it appeared. When his vision returned, he blankly stared at the full-body-mirror-sized magitool before him.

Revealed on the screen was a castle surrounded by thick, white clouds. The giant building sat atop a floating mass of land; it looked to be a private island part of the Hovering Archipelago, Tinsin. 

The sacred light suffusing Baisal’s body dimmed, his eyes reverting to their natural brown color as a vast amount of mana vanished from his body. Of course, all that mana didn’t go into activating a simple magitool.

Neir frowned, his eyes darting back to the image of the castle. His guess was affirmed almost immediately. Thick, yellow tendrils of energy sparked to life over the island, instantly evaporating the surrounding clouds. 

Then, the lightning bolts splayed down; shooting toward the castle. What seemed to be a barrier of sorts tried to block the spell, however, it splintered almost immediately, making way. The floating island crumbled the next second—the castle melted and was torn asunder in a brilliant flash. 

What was left of the island fell, the metaphysical buoyancy keeping them in the air severed.

“...That was Lord Rrynd’s keep?” Neir guessed, filling the empty silence in the room. 

Baisal seemed to find the question comical as he chortled. “You didn’t know?” he asked, grabbing a seat and plopping down as if he didn’t just murder dozens of men and women. “Regardless of that, speak. I’m curious as to what message you carry.”

A bitter smile made its way onto Neir’s lips. Right. This was the kind of man Baisal was. He only asked two things from his people: to carry his secrets to death and to never fail his expectations…. Otherwise… you’d come to know his brutality.

“I carry no message,” Neir said with a sigh. “And I don’t work for Rrynd.”

“Who then?” Baisal asked, a brow trembling. “Oped, perhaps? Or is it Edria?”

Shaking his head, Neir raised his hand and sparked his soul, igniting a blood-red flame in his palm. 

“That’s…!” Baisal caught himself, standing and glaring at the flame. He roused his mana. “Who are you?”

Neir smiled at the killing intent directed at him. “I suppose I’m something akin to the incarnation of a god.”

There was a deep silence.

“How can that be?” Baisal finally asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “...The Right to Divinity is only gifted to mortals… How can something already deific in nature be given the chance to become divine?”

“Aren’t you a little too arrogant, Baisal?” Neir scowled, dispersing the flame. “How can you claim to know the secrets of us gods? The Pantheons sanctity is something near-infinite in nature.” 

A muscle in Baisal’s jaw twitched sporadically.

“Of course, I don’t blame your ignorance,” Neir continued nonchalantly. He took a step toward the archmage. “If you so please, I can teach you all those possibilities.” He showed his best benevolent expression. “For a small price.”

“...You sound more like a devil than a god,” Baisal observed, sighing, sitting down. He regarded Neir with a serious glint in his eyes. “Very well. What price must I pay?”

Neir leaned on a table closest to him. “Gold, child,” he said, grinning slyly. “All the gold you can fork over.”

Baisal started, dumbfounded. Then, after studying him in a daze, he laughed unrestrainedly at the absurdity of Neir’s words. “Providence for gold coins?” he asked, breathless. “No wonder you’re damned to this plane—though I wonder why the God King didn’t simply seal you.”

“The God King rules over countless deities,” Neir said, shrugging. “He has far more important matters to deal with than one hedonistic lesser god.” He stretched his hand towards the archmage. “So what do you say?”

“How can I say no?” Baisal said, walking over and grasping the hand tightly. He smiled. “Now then, may I ask, how exactly I can break out of this mortal shell?”

‘There it is. The fool's sole reason for living,’ Neir thought with a tight-lipped smile. “Eager, aren’t we? I knew coming to you was the correct choice,” he said. “There are countless ways to ascend your mortal coil. The easiest for someone like you—who is not connected to the God King’s Essence—is to assimilate the core of some god’s Tower.”

Baisal looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. “Impossible. Firstly, no mortal could absorb even a sliver—”

“You could if you knew the correct runecircuits, and prepared the right ritual,” Neir interrupted dismissively. “Needless to say, you’d also need to fully comprehend the god’s authority. And no—the goal is not to absorb the entire core, simply to form a connection to the Source of Creation. Something I’m very familiar with.”

Neir conveniently left out the details concerning what horrible side-effects and backlash doing that would cause.

“...I see,” Baisal murmured, sitting down. He looked at his shaky hands for a few minutes before closing his eyes. “How many coins will it cost for you to teach me this method completely?”

“You didn’t even pay me for what I just said,” Neir said, humming softly as if disappointed. “Not a good sign.”

The ring on Baisal’s pinky finger flared, the blue gemstone emitting a blue flash. A bright light showered an explosion of soft light in his hands, and when it died down, a violet leather pouch was sitting in his palm. 

Neir fished up the fancy pouch, inspecting its contents. He smiled, satisfied, shaking the bag filled with platinum coins; their luster glinting if even a tiny bit made its way into the bag. “Well then with this—I’ll be taking my leave.”

The magical energy in the surrounding area suddenly surged, slightly giving the illusion that space was distorting.

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Whistling softly, Neir didn’t look back as he made his way to the stairs. “Don’t worry, child,” he said, tossing the heavy money pouch into the air and swiping it back into his hands. “I’ll be back. Let me enjoy this bounty first.”

There was no response, but Neir could feel the archmage's frustration on his skin. He wasn’t worried though. Baisal wouldn’t kill him—not now at least. 

‘Not while I hold the Right to Divinity,’ he thought, walking up the stairs, his eyes turning cold. Of course, if Baisal was to pounce at him here and now…

Neir shook his head softly. ‘There’s no chance he’ll act that rashly,’ he concluded. ‘Not when faced with so many uncertain factors—not to the being offering him his long-cherished goal.’

Emerging from the stairwell, he immediately noticed two maidservants idly chatting. They saw him and quickly bowed, gesturing for him to follow. He obliged, allowing them to guide him to Aturi’s office.

“Thank you,” Neir said to the women, opening the door. He walked in, regarding Aturi’s solemn air. “...I’m here for my pouch and belt.”

Aturi arched a brow, gesturing at Kallan. “...Seems you’re still alive,” he said, surprised. “Though I can’t say the same for your lord.”

“How unfortunate,” Neir said truthfully, retrieving his belongings. He traced Visis-Coanil’s sigil through the air. “He will be their judge.” He bobbed his head at the father and daughter duo, then left, ignoring Aturi’s questioning gaze.

***

Neir roamed the roads back to the slum with a carefree gait. The sky was still inhabited by a giant moon, bathing him comfortably in its beams. It was probably still a few hours to dawn.  

He took a turn into a grimy alley, suddenly halting. “Come out.”

No response. All he could hear was the faint barking of dogs in the near distance. 

Neir sighed, sparking his soul for what would be the last time in this life—probably. His hair and eyes bled red, his skin seething with the immense energy spilling into his body. 

He dug a finger into his ear, slowly pulling out a long worm-like creature. 

It reeked of Baisal's mana.

The little bug squirmed in his grip, its form shifting, slightly incorporeal; like a long, thick trail of blue smoke. It wreathed, puffing up into tiny motes as his flames devoured it.

Ignoring the blood trickling out of his ear canal, Neir looked ahead. There, contorting the surrounding light with some kind of concealment technique, was a man garbed in tight-fitting black clothes. 

Startled by the caustic gaze trained on him, the figure stepped back. Neir took a powerful step, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. 

The man did well to respond to the surprise attack, parrying Neir’s fist with the pommel of his sword and twisting his body to create a little distance. The grotesque sound of Neir’s knuckles shattering filled the air. 

He dismissed the pain and clenched his broken fist until it leaked blood. Then, without losing any momentum, he smashed his forehead into the man’s face, grabbing his hand so he wouldn’t fully remove his blade from its scabbard.

Blood sprayed from the dark-clad man’s nose. But he grinned savagely, pushing back against Neir’s skull with his, seemingly unbothered by his broken nose.  “Enough,” he growled out, mana curling out of his mouth in the form of mist. “I was instructed not to hurt you.”

Neir snorted, breaking away from the man and flicking the blood dripping down his fist toward him. The red droplets hardened, jerking towards the arrogant little bastard with a sudden force. 

Unsheathing his long sword, the man held his ground, swinging the blade to meet the attack. Shrill ringing sounds crack through the air as the blade flitted through the air as glinting arcs of silver, swiftly deflecting dozens of the tiny beads almost simultaneously.

Neir’s figure blurred into a red haze, reappearing behind the man. His skin tore, the sudden air resistance like sharp, serrated razors. 

The man spun, stunned. He could only stare as Neir spat a mouthful of blood into his eyes. There were soft thudding noises, a few beads embedding themselves into the back of the man’s skull. 

“...You dirty bastard…!” he cursed, staggering, gritting his teeth. He tightened the hold on his sword, and a burst of blue light streaked around the blade’s edges. He was finally serious.

Neir shook his head. “Burn,” he said, reaffirming the Intent he already laced into his blood. The essence-infused blood on the man’s face ignited with a bright crimson flash, exploding in the man’s face. He let out an ear-splitting scream, trying to extinguish the soulfire eating away at his skull with mana. 

That only fueled the flames, spreading them to the man’s mana core. 

The fire slowly died down as Neir stopped sparking his soul. He gave one last glance to the charred corpse, then walked off after making sure there weren’t any more of Baisal’s agents lurking about.

Closing in on the hideout, Neir shook off his brooding mood. He smiled, feeling the violet pouch stuffed with platinum coins.  ‘I’ll have to spoil those kids.’

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