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Embrace the Ether

To burn away the old, rebuilding it anew. Countless years ago, a terrible war came for the ancient Primordials, casting down their once believed immovable dominance and securing the rise of a new empire. The Ether was fractured, broken into numerous pieces as peace was hard-fought. Thrown into this new hectic land, Deus must come to wield an unexplained power, one that threatens both his sanity and life simply to use. If he wishes to survive, he must learn not only how to harness this strength but how to grow and expand it, altering the path of those around him. What he doesn't know is that he's found himself involved in a terrifying plot hosted by those demons of old, a game of sorts to decide the fate of Midnight. Does Deus have what it takes to survive, or has he found himself trapped in a plot he has no hope of escaping? ———————————— Note: This story has a slow-build and takes awhile for the pace to get going. If that isn't your thing, this may not be for you. Heavy emphasis on world-building and character creation and progression. Release schedule! I don't have any specific schedule, and every time I make one it tends to end in tripping myself up after a few weeks. I will do everything in my power to release frequently enough, though. Seeing comments and support help dearly, and absolutely give me that kick of inspiration I need to keep going. I'd release more often, but it typically takes me well over 10+ hours to complete a single chapter when I aim for 2-2.5k words, and that doesn't include major post-writing proofing and plot-hole checks. I'd post more frequently if I had more time, but the day only has so many hours in it. If you find any plot-holes or inconsistencies, I'd love to hear about them. Hit me up for a shout-out in my author's notes! —————————————————— I write as a hobby, not professionally. Maybe one day. —————————————————— Tags: Fantasy, Light Sci-fi, National Wars, Magic, Demons, Supernatural, No Romance Plot, Secret Organizations, Technology, Light Steampunk, No-Harems, Male Lead Characters, Strong Male and Female Characters, City Construction/Founding, Deep-Lore, and more.

JVenior · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
61 Chs

A Lord's Authority

Evelien wasn't sure how to respond as she simply stood there for a moment, weighing through everything. Even she had to admit that everything that was happening had been a bit beyond her scope, and if—by some odd miracle—Deus could use Mir without actually meaning to, or even knowing what it was, that would change the scope of many conflicts in the future.

Perhaps in the not so distant future, Deus would be her superior, if he was able to harness the Mir to such an extent where even he couldn't control it.

Typically the problem people face with using the power of Mir is that they can't gather enough within their bodies and souls to manifest, resulting in a problem that many have where they may understand Mir, but they can't wield it like a sharp weapon.

For Deus—or anyone for that matter, to be able to wield the Mir without restraint, as if there were no authority limitations, that could incite something massive.

"Before I answer your question, allow me to levy my own question in return…" Evelien exhaled as she spoke, trying to clear her throat and return to her normal calmness. Whatever he meant, for him to ask in a hypothetical fashion clearly meant that he had more questions than answers.

"First, there are no true hypotheticals. They don't exist. Everything is born from experience, some way or another. So, my question is this; if you were able to use Mir, even unconsciously, how are you still alive?"

Deus froze upon hearing her response, knowing that his vague and shallow excuse of hypotheticals had been completely seen through. In truth, he had expected it, but he hadn't expected her to simply shrug it off and not play along.

"Ah…" Deus murmured out, "I think you've misunderstood… hah… this is a purely random question…"

"No, I very much doubt it is." Evelien retorted, "I didn't lie when I said that the radio chatter has gotten me a bit nervous… something even our master takes seriously has woken up and drawn its wrath down upon us. You will tell me why, and I won't let you hide anything from us crows."

"Enough." A resounding voice sounded from behind her, causing her and Reinout to both twist around in a hurry. They were surprised to see the man stood behind them as if he had manifested out of nowhere.

"C-captain Roch… sir…" Evelien stuttered in an attempt to catch her breath. "When did you arrive…?"

"Just a few moments ago. My ship will be arriving shortly, but I figured I should hurry on over, so I ran the rest of the way." Roch explained as he paced slowly to her side, glancing down toward the rough battlefield. The moment his head peered over the edge, a resounding clash of thunder sounded from all around as both Androma and Rol'an took notice of him.

Androma's expression shifted to a long-drawn grin, while Rol'an's had plummeted into full-blown hatred, seething at his teeth.

"Roch!" Rol'an roared out, jumping into the sky, no longer worried about his defenses. The ground beneath him shuddered, kicking him up dozens of meters into the air, bringing him to Roch's height in a matter of moments.

Even the young Droh who stood to Roch's side was only a mere background character to Rol'an as he glared at his self-proclaimed nemesis.

The black flames enveloped him as it pulled him closer, arriving at the boundary of the tower in a moment, causing even Androma to let out a rough sigh in exhaustion. It was quite obvious by Androma's face that he found Rol'an overwhelming and unpredictable, making him one of his more difficult opponents. His complete opposite.

Androma prided himself in striking down proud warriors, those who wouldn't hesitate to charge straight forward without thinking things through, simply because they believed without hesitation that their own power would pull them through.

An enemy like that was perfect for the mysterious and elusive Androma. On the contrary, however, Rol'an was the sort of enemy who was both proud yet strategic, with an almost monstrous sense of self-worth, making him a dangerous foe to face.

Rol'an waited for his body to grow accustomed to the mist before attacking, something that the typical proud warrior wouldn't do. They'd have faith in themselves, pushing their own bodies beyond the limit.

A smart and tricky enemy was dangerous, more so than a powerful yet straightforward enemy.

Between Androma and Roch, it was the latter who had propelled himself throughout the region as being one of the most dangerous warriors of them all, forcing even Rol'an into defeat once before.

"Ah, hello my little demon," Roch genuinely greeted Rol'an, lowering his head and tucking his arm in across his chest. It was a noble action, which only caused his nemesis to feel exacerbated even more.

"Roch… our battle won't be the same as it was before. You may have gotten the better of me before, but I've changed since then. No, I've evolved."

"Evolved? How so?" Roch asked as he clambered his way up atop one of the many battlements that sat around the tower walls, putting himself higher than everyone else around him.

His black cloak shook and swayed in the gust of wind, yet not even a single speck of dust landed anywhere near him. Like some sort of field surrounded him, preventing even the most minute particle from coming close.

"From where I'm standing, it seems you've only grown more ugly and ruthless, but that doesn't inherently equate to power," he said mockingly, yet within his voice, there was a hint of truth. "One who has to exclaim their strength with words has nothing but false strength. Use action to prove your power, nothing more, nothing less."

Androma and Rol'an both remained silent as he spoke. The former lowered his head with a slight nod, satisfied that Roch had taken it upon himself to step in. The latter, however, could only growl out from between his clenched teeth, where no words could even form.

Rol'an lashed out toward him, his blood-dyed sword already fused with his absolute fury as it practically hummed in his grasp, awaiting the feast that would come.

"Androma," Roch whispered out for only his fellow kin to hear, "Go to the tower and await my ship. The one who will arrive will bring you absolute salvation, but could also lead to the downfall of countless lives. Consider his word to be that of our Lords."

With that, Roch extended out his arm as the world itself seemed to open up, drawing out a translucent spear from the ground, the sky flashed with extraordinary lights.

"Come to me, my Dauntless heart shall bring true silence back to this world."

A beautiful explosive burst of light formed from this spear, an absolute quiet took over, silencing even the bloodlust that had previously erupted out from Rol'an.

"How is this possible?!" Rol'an shouted as his voice became lost in the quiet as if his darkness was dissolved into light, leaving no shadows around him.

"Androma has always been a powerful student, but beyond his illusions… I'm afraid to say, he's long away from being my equal." Roch slowly floated into the air, his body both weightless and transparent, leaving only a faint blur of light around him.

"Rol'an, my little demon. You've come far, much farther than I would've expected… but unfortunately, you're not the main character of this story. This time, an absolute power has come, but not for you. Because of this, I'll let you live, consider this a gift as I can respect your growth."

The Roch that spoke was different from the one that Rol'an had previously experienced. He was all-knowing as if nothing could be hidden from him. His very body seemed almost formed of Mir, the world around him just barely containing his exquisite being.

"This power…" Rol'an hissed out as he wrapped his lanky arms around his face, cowering from the light, "You've received more authority than I've ever seen… at this very moment… you're at the center of everything."

"Begone, now."

The world twisted as the crimson sky ran, erupting out a brilliant white that seemed like all of the heavens descended. The spear he held shimmered, a hushed sound rang from it as half of it was transparent, almost as if it could slip between being physical and being mere spiritual.

"NO!" The Borun shouted as the light broke around him, rendering his own sword a shaky fragment, leaving heavy cracks throughout the blade. "I will not be destroyed! I will not die like this! AAAHHH!"

Rol'an extended out his arm, only for it to melt away, dissolving into the light that reached everywhere.

All of Direfell and the region around it had been bent by Roch's power, his authority. Even as the one who wielded this absolute power, his face was strained as he struggled to contain it all. The overwhelming power that only a true Lord could ever harness without restraint, he had unleashed it.

Even if only one attack, it was enough to push his very body to the limits.

The white light faded, allowing the world to reveal its dark and elusive shadows once again. The previous bright light, which had overwhelmed the eye had gradually faded, lasting anywhere from a few seconds to even many minutes. Time seemed almost to stop, only returning once the world once more became crimson and black.

Roch heaved over as his body lowered, the Dauntless spear he previously held once more faded into the earth. His body lowered down as he landed softly against the crumbling battlement of the tower.

"So it's done?" A voice asked from behind him. Roch turned to look, his face both pale and exhausted. "As the Lord wished, his lasting peace has been returned. Unfortunately, that demon has yet to die, but he will not reveal himself until he fully recovers, which should last us quite some time."

Roch spoke to Androma, who had already arrived atop the tower and now stood side by side with Evelien and Reinout, who held both reverence and fear in their eyes as they watched on.

They were strong, but in the face of either of these two, they wouldn't last even a moment.

"Ah yes, it seems my ship has finally arrived. It's time to go greet him." Roch declared, stepping down off the battlement as he adjusted his poster, allowing the color to once more appear on his cheeks.