83. The Last Warlock

Mack crossed the light door, and at the same moment he could see what was beyond.

An old man using a dark robe.

"Finally someone, after thousands of years."

Mack walked a few steps and stopped, not sure if it was an enemy, an illusion or even a light construct.

"It seems you are a very cautions person, even growing so strong."

Said the old man without moving an inch from his original spot.

Mack kept looking at him without moving, but his right hand was already on his sword.

At this distance, the sword was more effective than any spell. That was one of the things that Mack learned in all those years in the tower.

"You can feel at ease. I saw all your progress during those years you spend in the tower. I'm not your enemy."

Said the man, pointing to a mirror by the side that showed Mack right now.

"How can I be sure? All gates until now put me in a deathbed"

Asked Mack, but without moving.

"The true is, I'm your ancestor."

Said the old man.

"My ancestor is dead, the Arcane itself said to me."

The old man's face changed.

"The Arcane? hahahaha. Right!"

The old man felt like someone who had not heard a good pun in years.

[I am the Arcane, boy]

Said the Arcane in a masculine voice now.

Mack almost tripped back when hearing the Arcane with the same voice as the old man had.

How could he be so stupid?

"You are not stupid. I prepared this for thousands of years and waited thousands more for someone who could pass all my trials. You are just too green to foresee any of this. After all, you have barely reached your 30 years now."

Indeed, Mack was too young to be put at the same level as those monsters that lived for thousands of years.

He knew that. Even so, the revelations that came one after another made Mack not believe anything anymore.

"But I swear I heard the Arcane refer to you as her master when I was half sleeping"

Said Mack, still not believing that his only company until now was a lie.

"Would you trust it if I not let something slip by? You distrust even your own shadow kid. I never saw someone as cautious as you enter the tower before."

Unconsciously, Mack took a step back.

~sigh~

"Kid, to tell the true. I am your enemy. I wished to end this quickly without saying anything, but I think I had grown too old now, or maybe is the lack of talk. Who knows?"

Mack took his sword out and took another step back. His mind was blank.

He still could not distinguish head from tails about this situation, but his instincts were in full panic now.

It was as if Mack could feel the sharpness and cold of a blade in his neck. Death was about to strike him down any second.

"The true, kid, is that all the trial were just to create a new vessel for me. A new body, your body."

Said the old man, raising his right hand and pointing to Mack.

But at that moment Mack could glimpse a tattoo identical as his owns in the right hand of his ancestor.

As if a light struck him woken, he moved his sword and slashed with all his force.

The old man took a step back but was unprepared for what happened.

~thump~

Mack's left hand fell to the ground.

Both of his hands had similar tattoos that he did when discovering the book. Mack cut his own left hand out, but he had more eight tattoos in his body.

"HaHaHaHaHa very clever! Indeed, someone worth of reaching here. HaHaHa!"

Laughed the old man as if he was caught unprepared for the first time in his life. But once the surprise faded out, his tone became even more serious than before and his face retorted with rage.

"But you and I know that this will not stop your fate, but only delay it."

Mack knew it was a gamble, but he did what his instincts said, and Mack instincts were always spot on.

Unknown to Mack, he just saved his life now. Because his ancestor was about to activate all the tattoos on Mack's body.

His ancestor looked at Mack's left arm, blood flowing like a river, and with a pondering tone expressed what was in his mind.

"You indeed are a freak. I never expected someone to even evolve the body to level three, yet, you reached level five. That took me over three hundred of years at my time. Look at the color of your blood. Deep red, almost turning to black."

Mack didn't know what that means but knew it was supposed to be a good thing.

"And your eyes, already red."

Said the old men looking straight at Mack's eyes. As if admiring a product or the prospects that he would have with such a good body.

Blood kept flowing from Mack's left hand, but now the flow was much less. His body was healing like a freak that Mack was.

Noticing the difference, his ancestor looked at Mack's left hand and pondered for a second.

"In about six hours you will have a new hand, then we can continue."

With that said, the old man vanished into thin air.

Even knowing that nothing was solved, Mack, for some reason, fell as if a mountain had left his shoulders.

But in the next second.

Chains made of light formed around Mack's body and locked all of his arms, neck, and torso.

[Just a precaution, we don't want you to hurt yourself, right?]

Said an old masculine voice in Mack's head.

Mack struggled to get free, but nothing happened.

The chains seemed to be made of light, just like the light constructs from previous gates, but way harder.

Minutes passed by as if they were hours, while the silent chamber echoed Mack's struggles to get free.

But nothing worked.

He had all his runespells inactive, and to activate one, he would need to touch his hands, but he had no more left hand, and was chained.

~sigh~

Mack head fell to the front as if he had gave up.

His head covered in sweat made his hair feel like Mack just came from an intense training. But there was no pleasant feeling of achieving something.

He could not get free.

'Even if I could, what can I do?'

Mack knew better than anyone about his situation.

He was at the mercy of his ancestor, and that man didn't seem to be one who had any mercy.

[Just give up kid. You can't avoid your fate]