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Tenth author's journal 2A: Mikhail

The war between demons and angels that has raged across countless worlds is now spreading to Obsidian. Thousands of independent city-states have ruled the Obsidian world for centuries, rising high above a dark, wind-tossed ocean. The Obsidian world is now threatened by an all-out war between angels and demons. Book 2 focuses on the third archangel, Mikhail, and how their decisions affect the world surrounding the war. Sides A and B offer different perspectives on a single-choice play-out that changes the story forever.

Willhem_Duy · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
73 Chs

49_Marching into tomorrow

Chapter 49: Questioning morale

[Kryos POV]

It has only been half a month since I understood those complex plans of them, I must say the whole thing is quite a daze not only for me but others. Mikhail, whom I mourn for many times to come just come alive and tried to die again. Quite an idiotic move for the one that proclaims to be the archangel of knowledge.

Ever since the beginning, I have thought something wrong with my partner's mind like something so unsettling that I can't explain, maybe the fact they have been dead too many times over that they won't value life anymore.

"Dwelling on the front line, you surely have a death wish, O prince of lust." Furcas comes to the tent with chuckling. After the last time, he still called me by that name. It was embarrassing enough that I make myself like a fool in front of my uncle but also him and my rival.

"Hey, not that again. I have already said sorry about that time." What a jerk the ancient ones are, this is why I don't mingle with any one of them. Do I have to concern that my partner is spending too much of their time around them?

Mikhail is much younger than me but already speaking like someone before the age of sealing. I mean with that many responsibilities at hand, they must have been tired every day, unlike my lax routine.

"Just kidding, kid. But what are thinking so closely about, you know you don't have to strategy and all that muddy stuff. Just your presence here is enough to boost others' morale." Why does he speak like I have no real power but to become the doll decorated on the battlefield?

I know that to the other trusted one of them, I am the weakest but I am still a "prince", don't they remember how much strength I spent trespassing kingdoms and territory on end to gather information for the world table? Those merits seem to come to naught when even my subordinates play more important roles than myself.

"Mikhail must have taken revenge on me to give me such an embarrassing role." In frustration I muster, those words seem to be caught by that skeleton.

"Hehe, the little majesty is afraid that you will burn yourself out there." With the blue flame failing around like that, does Furcas thinks that I will be afraid? He must be mistaken me for a simple imp then.

"Well, I have faced my uncle in a long fight. What make them have the decision that I am so fragile that being put on display like an object of adoration?" Uh oh, like something I have angered that old skeleton. The flame changed into a purple kind as it scorched everyone in the tent.

The heat burst in the tent like the fire of a thousand suns, the unnerving sound of crackling bones. I thought I would have fainted there but it slowly goes down by some miracle, maybe he has grown a conscience

"Listen here, little doll. If not for Blood Claw's recommendation, you wouldn't be here even. Talking about adoration like that, you should be at the capital and being the doll that you are worthy of." He is right…Mikhail could have discarded me when Eugen mentions me in the meeting yet still consider me as a boost of morale.

"And for the thing, that fights as lord Andromalius has told me. He was injured and hungry, not to mention the fatigue of thousand moons that he stayed awake for that. Even at you can't land a single wind past the little majesty's hair and here you speak of power?" Furcas's last sentence is intriguing, it corrupted my mind curious.

I have never seen Mikhail fight someone before, let alone be serious. Mikhail is a pacifist at heart with no intention of hurting even their enemies, I am not getting the full picture here. I guess it would be the same with Uncle's sparing as well.

"You have fought them?" I ask if the place is burned to a crisp but still, the structure stands without damage. The fur that covers the tent is made from hell carnivore skin, I recognize the pattern similar to my uncle's house, I have visited them in the time of trading information with him.

When talking about information sorter, there is no doubt that Ragnorr did the better job but he is less organized than my uncle. Through the wisdom he has, my uncle was able to replicate the whole section in the office without actually in; whilst Ragnorr just keeps them where ever he felt like it.

"The battle ends before it draws its weapon or cast a single spell. The cold it caused could freeze the whole hell over if it ever so desire." Furcas's comment once again cut through my line of thought.

By my deduction, it seems that Mikhail primarily uses ice magic with the addition of interchangeable light magic or dark magic. There are very few records I gathered from elsewhere like the human's king testimony of them using fire magic. It is convoluted whether the knowledge they use rather experience-oriented than optimal selection.

"It's strange for them to only use ice and wind, maybe based on their expertise in such magics that other is neglected." Commenting on something worth some wisdom that I have gathered through hard work should be met with recognition yet…

"It seems that you haven't passed the basic of magic. Even though you are a prince, a lack of basic knowledge is laughable." Furcas's laugh returned like salt added on injuries. Even the youngest imp knows that basic knowledge.

"Spell efficiency is based on volume, consequential, and proficiency, isn't it? I have understood them before reaching a hundred." I answer reluctantly.

The more area that is affected by the spell, the more mana is used to make it happen. The more plausible a phenomenon happens, the less mana the spell need to manifest. And finally the more one practice the same spell over and over again, the quicker and more efficient the output to be. The simple thing I have learned by heart centuries before.

"Then, let me explain why you lack wisdom as lord Andromalius said." Light a flame in mid-air, this is a simple 'flare' no more no less. The spell is a basic fire spell. Given his authority, the mana cost should be little to none.

"The second law of magic, consequential of magic is based on the condition for a phenomenon such a spell to manifest in the world, and how possible for such pheromone to happen in the world or plausibility for short," Furcas explains as the flame grows fainter until it is extinguished.

"The sovereign use ice and wind magic, those are the most consumption magic in short battles. Because in such a short interval of time can't reach the lowest point of heat or accumulated in an arranged manner, they are more likely to gain an advantage on an opponent who doesn't have that risk-taking."

Those words come as a headache. What does the consumption of plausibility have to do with the advantage of risk-taking? Those don't seem to form cohesive reasoning at all. Should it be more utility ones more favorable in short battles?

"And another reason is frostbite and breath loss are hard to deal with." Furcas chuckles, he was trying to play me from the start.

"Can you just say that in the beginning?"

A loud earthquake has shaken me when my whining finished, a rupture of earth. The paradise castle has fallen onto the mountain range and the ringing urge for us to join the battle.

"Prince Kryos, the castle has fallen as planned how should we proceed with this?" The falling of paradise castle, is such things even possible? I am quite in a daze about these kinds of events even when recited more than hundreds of times. Having no time, Furcas urges me to open the wooden box.

"Well open the treasure box, kid. Their majesty has provided such luxuries for you." Open the wooden box, a parchment lay with a single spell 'Itinere mitis', an amulet with a singular symbol on it, and a bottle with a scarlet liquid.

"Oh, their blood. You are lucky to have a portion before you achieved anything." The mention of blood makes me kind of nauseous, what did they instruct me to do with this kind of thing? I only understand the spell that I use to boost the morale of the front line but the scarlet bottle of blood?

"What do you do with this? To spray off enemies or have it enchant my weapon, I should brou-" Furcas slaps me in spite.

"Have mingled with the humans that you have forgotten the nature of our kind? We are demons, drinking such luxuries is our way to regain our stamina and strength." He angrily proclaims. I don't want to follow the old demonic way of living, I like all of other's co-existing nature. To revert in such a barbarian manner, I can't stand it!

"What if I don't want to? I don't want to feast on the vulnerability of my dearest companion!"

…The deafening silence between us while the rally outside of Jeremiel and Blood Claw has already begun. I just want all of this to be over to have a lengthy discussion with my partner about self-deformation, they don't deserve such a treatment after sacrificing so much.

"Speaking like Blood Claw, isn't you? But you must understand"

Grabbing the bottle from my hand, Furcas open the seal just to shove it directly into my mouth as the scarlet liquid continuously pour in between my forcefully opened mouth.

"This is necessary for your survival. So take it like a 'prince' that you have always proclaimed to be!"

The repulsive liquid enter my mouth, Trying with all my might, but none of them has been vomited out. My sense is heightened with a fearsome excitement, my body is rejuvenated.

Is this how demons suppose to be? A blood-sucking kind that is only known…wait this taste like frost berry jam that my mother always made back in the day. The reminiscing taste calms my agitated self.

"This taste…It doesn't taste like blood, did they try to test me?" Again meet with a knock on the head, it looks like my inexperience will be my doom if this continues.

"The taste mimic one's most favorable consumption, which is the property of angel's blood. Their majesty has sacrificed too much for you to play upon their hard work." Furcas goes outside for his command of the battalion.

Sitting inside the tent alone, I desperately read the spell. The usage supposes to weaken those in the crest of light that was marked by the first archangel and brim those are marked demonic. With the sign of the dark sky and an eclipsed moon, the spell should prove its activation. Fine then.

"Prince Kryos, it's your turn for the rally." An imp comes to announce my turn.

Stepping outside, the sea of demons who stand here because of their belief in the sole ruler of Saudade and the joined supporter of the former reign of Asmodeus house. The platform for rallying is just a box of supplies

"I will stand here not as an Asmodeus or the former prince of Saudade, but as the comrade of all you. For those who believe in the cause we are fighting today, we shall march into the better tomorrow where Saudade will be rid of the claw of the first archangel."

The start of the battle draws near when Uriel lights up the west side of the castle and Gabriel oozes the muddy blood of the east.

[ In the darkest night, under the starless sky

We call upon powers, unknown the light above

Nor the dark below, sherd through unlimited space

Flow through countless times, to forward we march. ]

[ 'Itinere mitis' ]

The end

Now the gambit of ideals,

Is what we all feel,

And each time we take a chance,

We remember that first dance.