CHAPTER 13

A smell that reminded him of iron crossed his nostrils, it was the blood, blood of his colleagues being spilled by demons, and blood mages... As he walked through the corridors of the fortress, he clenched his fists and turned away whenever his eyes landed on the gruesome sight of the severed bodies.

Heads, arms, legs, they were all spread through the place as if a storm of blades had crossed this path, he walked slowly and steadily towards the mage quarters, taking care to never lower his attention, his hand firmly holding the luxurious stave made out of Whitewood with a sharp and slightly long Veridium knife on the end.

He crossed through the big double door and entered the hallway that led to the quarters, there, he watched in disgust as a group of 15 possessed hounds and 2 bears ate the bodies of some apprentices and enchanters.

"Bastards... If I discover the one who ordered this, I'll make sure to kill this person even if I have to travel the whole world..." Silently muttering to himself, he took out a large lyrium potion from his handbag and drank it fully. Feeling his mana increasing at an alarming rate, he lifted his stave and pointed upwards, pouring all his strength into this spell, the question crossed his mind and the mana in his body started moving extremely fast towards the stave.

He could feel his veins burning slightly as more than his natural reserves of mana were burned away, but as that happened the wind in the room became increasingly violent and without alerting the demons it was starting to form a vortex above them.

From the moment he started till its conclusion 15 seconds passed, but it worked, before the demons could react, a hellish tornado was brought down upon them with flames that were hot enough to melt iron.

The demons cried in pain and were lifted from the ground due to the powerful tornado, eventually, their bodies became charred black due to the temperature of the flames, when the spell lost its energy and the tornado disappeared, he saw how every demon had become charcoal and sighed in relief.

Sucking a mouthful of air he used his stave to stand upright, this kind of spell wasn't something he should have been casting, he was lucky that his master, a senior enchanter from the circle had given him a lyrium potion earlier before returning from the research site.

His actions must have caused some commotion because now he could hear hurried footsteps approaching his location, turning around he sighed when he saw a small group of templars approaching.

One of them wore no helmet, he had a big two-handed sword in his hands and a scary-looking face with red fiery hair and a scar that crossed his right eye from top to bottom, that eye was blind and slightly grey due to the injury but the other one was still green.

"Knight-Commander Marteu, so you survived..."

"You must be that mage Illana keeps talking about, Oliver isn't it?"

Oliver nodded his head.

Looking past Oliver, Marteu noticed the damage he caused and opened his eyes wide, for such a young age to be capable of casting such a powerful spell, even if it was with the assistance of Lyrium that was already an impressive feat.

After thinking for a moment he said. "Come with me Oliver, you will assist me in cleaning up the rest of the fortress, we managed to rescue the majority of the apprentices and mages but there are still demons and blood mages wandering around."

Oliver nodded and followed the Knight-Commander and his subordinates, what he wanted the most today, was to kill as many demons and blood mages as possible.

...

"NO!" With a face full of tears Pawen watched powerless as her apprentice, a little 12-year-old boy, was beheaded by the blood mage's straight scythe, a common weapon between the largest faction of blood mages, The cult of the new dawn.

Looking around she could only bitterly bit her lips, in front 2, to the left 5, behind 3, there was no escape, every entrance to the repository was blocked by blood mages, and all she had to assist her was an injured Edwin, five apprentices, and senior enchanter Zathorn...

"Pawen, there is no choice... Listen to me!" Zathorn grabbed Pawen and brought her back towards the group while pointing his stave towards the blood mages, they didn't dare to approach so easily.

This was proof of something extremely terrifying, it proved that they knew who they were going against, someone from within must have sold them out.

"We can't face so many of them... I'll give you guys a breach to escape, when that happens you should run as far as you can! Flee to the city and seek out the chantry, stay there with everyone!"

"What!?" Pawen looked at Zathorn, a former teacher of Abraham, and held his arm. "What are you saying!? You can't possibly mean-"

"Stop Pawen! Y-you know we have no choice here..." Edwin approached her from behind and put a hand on her shoulder, she turned around and looked at his sorry state with a frown.

Edwin's right arm was chopped off during the fight by a Demon, they already closed his injury but it didn't change the fact that he was still weak and injured.

Zathorn nodded, he turned to look at the blood mages with a frown on his head. "I want you all to use an arcane shield spell together, if necessary use both your staves together to keep the flow of mana steady, but you must keep it no matter what happens, do you understand?"

"Yes..." Pawen lowered her head and clenched her teeth as she answered him with a painful feeling piercing her heart.

Wasting no time they all approached the wall behind them, every single one of the apprentices touched Pawen and Edwin's staves which were placed next to each other, with Pawen and Edwin guiding everyone's power together they soon formed a powerful shield that surrounded them, protecting them from any harm.

"Hahaha! Do you think a mere shield will be enough to stop us, we are blood mages! Don't underestimate us!" One of the hooded blood mages, feeling emboldened by their defensive approach, stepped forward and shouted.

"Shut up you damn maleficar! Your words hold no power here, today I'll make sure to do my duty as a teacher, and teach you all what is the power of a senior enchanter!" Clenching his fists hit the ground with his stave, a bright wave of energy started growing around him, forming some sort of bubble of pure energy around him.

Seeing that the blood mages pointed their staves at him and started channeling their most powerful spell, meaning they would also take a while to do what they needed.

Zathorn knew it wouldn't be long before they resorted to blood magic, and in this place which is painted in blood, he couldn't allow them to make use of this, silently he muttered under his breath. "Forgive me, Maker, for your children is about to commit a sin..."

Closing his eyes his muscles contracted and the bright blue bubble of energy suddenly gained a purplish red shade, the blood on the ground and walls started floating and slowly became bright red energy that fused in his spell.

Looking at this, the blood mages were startled, how could it be! This bastard was going to use blood magic against them, blood mages! Gritting their teeth at all that potential blood that he stole, they took out knives from their pockets and stabbed their hands to use the power of their own blood.

knowing he would die here in a way or another Zathorn gritted his teeth, and also took a knife from his pocket, sighing he slashed at his throat, feeling that unbearable pain and the blood gushing out, he wasted no time and incorporated it into the spell, making the mass of energy grow in an alarming speed.

Somehow at that moment, through cheer will, he managed to lift his stave and shout. "Die you, bastards!"

At that moment the air inside the place seemed to have frozen, suddenly a wave of cold air extended from him coupled with blue bolts of lightning, this first wave threw all of the blood mages on their backs, interrupting their casting.

The second wave was formed by an increasing vortex of pure energy spreading cold winds and snow continually around them and an increasing number of bolts of lightning, the ceiling broke and was launched away by the power of the vortex, and what came soon after with the third wave, was the powerful and aggressive wind.

This spell was the apex of what the Primal school of magic was capable of together with a boost from the blood magic used in between, it was a spell combination named Storm of the century by its creator. The storm was so big that it could be easily seen from far away, and even after Zathorn died and was dragged away by the storm, it still seemed capable of distinguishing friend from foe, making it so that the spell would hit their enemies with much greater power than when it hit his allies.

The storm was too powerful, the walls surrounding Pawen and the others didn't manage to endure and were destroyed one after the other, looking at the path for salvation that opened for them, they gave one last look behind to thank their dead savior and walked away, their destiny, Ghislain Chantry.