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Journey To Dystopia

In a futuristic age where magic and technology thrive as one, the world revolves around the strong. From small beasts to titanic abominations, adventurers, heroes, revolutionaries, knights, and to those who stand at the peak recognized as "Monarchs", magic defined their very existence. Humans lived in supercities across the east and west, surrounded by an infinite ocean in the south and a boundless desert in the north. Hundreds of years later, when an ancient magic resurfaces in the hands of of an unknown "Monarch", the world begins to become undone. Continents and oceans previously unseen spring forth to reality, like an ever expanding maze. The border between realm's shifts. ------------------------------------------------ Jacob, a 14 year old boy, served as his village's resident hunter helping his uncle run his butchery. He dreamt of leading a peaceful but exciting life. Yet through a twist of fate, he meets a runaway prince aiming to enter the world's leading magic university, they are both plunged into the chaotic world of magic, destined to walk the journey to dystopia.

Writers_Ablood · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
9 Chs

Prologue(3)

[Inside the tower]

The warden was pacing around his office restlessly. He had noticed the barrier on the southern gate had been destroyed. He couldn't figure out how. The number of people that could destroy his barrier like that could all be considered his allies.

'Could it be..? A betrayal....'

He shook his head. 'No, it couldn't be.'

No matter who betrayed him, they wouldn't have been able to attack him so openly. Everyone already knew the abilities of the people on that level. It would be too easy to trace this attack back to them.

The warden who was crumbling under the pressure had already lost his edge in this battle. He had failed to notice that all his escape routes were slowly being cut off.

With the fire mage in sector three blocking any entry, the titan with the group on the southern gate and the mysterious prisoner slowly making his way up the tower.

The warden had long been placed under a checkmate.

As the man in restraints also noticed that the barrier was gone, he smirked.

He had reached the top floor almost leisurely walking around. But he expected some resistance before the warden's office.

Just as he thought that a guard in a red helmet with three others walked in on him.

' Four A-ranks'

To any other prisoner, their presence meant a death sentence, but to him, it was nothing more than a nuisance.

Geralt, had taken the lead guarding the commander's office. He had just seen a prisoner walk up the tower with his restrains still on.

He did not understand how he made it up here. Were the guards outside unable to stop him? He had not realized the severity of the situation, so he thought that the guards were simply not paying attention.

"Stop! I need you to step back down to the dungeons. We can't have you roaming around while the attacks are ongoing"

Geralt, still clueless, had not made the connection between the man in front of him with the attacks outside. Moreover, after seeing that the prisoner still had his cuffs on, he had let his guard down.

To him, this man was no threat.

But just before he could guide the prisoner downstairs.... right before his eyes, within a split-second the prisoner had vanished without a trace.

Geralt who had spent his whole life on the battlefield was sweating profusely. His instincts roared like never before. Telling him to act. There was no opportunity to fight. His body was calling on him to run away.

To flee.

However, such thoughts were useless. Once he saw the prisoner's speed; escape was no longer an option. The three knights beside him were in a similar predicament. All 4 were ready for battle.

Despite the prisoner being shackled, they had no plans of underestimating the enemy. The man had bolted in with no fear of retaliation.

Geralt could clearly see it, the prisoner had cleanly dodged every single sword strike with such precision, it almost felt like he was a nimble ghost. The man moved freely in the air amidst a countless array of strikes, every single blow negated with minimal movement.

Geralt felt a mixture of fear and awe towards the mysterious man.

It was a display of pure skill and experience.

The prisoner had now taken initiative, by twisting his legs in the air he jumped behind one of the guards, using his shackles as a garotte, he completely ripped away his head.

Blood splattered everywhere, his once obsidian chains were now stained red.

The battle continued and despite the guard's continuous efforts, they could not land a single blow on the enemy.

In response, the man bolted to the face of a guard and firmly planted his knee in his face, knocking him out.

This was followed by his transition to the third vice-captain, who was unable to react to his in-human reflexes, failing to block a swift kick to the head, effectively incapacitating him.

Geralt was helpless, the battle had unfolded right in front of him and yet even in his desperation, he couldn't lift a single finger....

The attacker had defeated all his comrades within minutes.

The fight had simply been nigh impossible to win. It was akin to a massacre.

Geralt now surrounded by a bloody pool of his former allies stared death in the face. He clutched his blade prepared to give his all.

-thump

His heart clenched inside his chest.

-thump

Every throb tightened his breath.

-thump

He could hear every beat, feel every fiber of his being. Every muscle in his body stiffened in anticipation. His hands shook at every possibility.

As he rushed forward with sheer determination, willing to a die a warrior's death, he slashed forward.

[.....]

Geralt felt weightless, like a feather. He saw the whole world revolving around him.

Up was down, left was right. Confusion struck him at this decisive moment. Nothing made sense anymore.

He tried to breathe, but it felt like he was drowning in the deepest depths of the ocean. As his consciousness started to fade, he realized what had taken place.

Geralt had been beheaded.....

----------------------------

[Outside the fortress]

The mages had regrouped and with no hindrances to slow them down, they could finally focus on what lied ahead.

As they all gathered in the central grounds, two of them could be seen childishly bickering.

Naturally, it was the hot-headed mage and the sly witch. She argued how his flames had charred the ground almost ruining her new boots.

"Hotshit, you think this quality of leather grows on trees you daft bastard"

Hearing this enraged him.

"It's Hotshot. Old Hag, maybe if your lazy ass was more useful, I wouldn't need to waste my time with small fries."

As the two continued arguing, one could subtly see a slender man slip into the shadows, disappearing from view.

The witch had no patience for hotshot's antics.

Max intervened, stepping between the two,

"Enough. Vex, you are needed elsewhere."

She let out an exasperated sigh and flew towards the tower.

---------------------

[Warden's office]

The man glared at the warden, an intense stare-down ensued between the two.

"Who are you? "

The warden questioned; A strange darkness obscured the man's features; the warden could not perceive anything.

"Warden Simon Bartholomew, or should I say Paladin?"

"So you know something of my past, hmph.... not a hard detail to find out. So what do you really want?"

The man laughed.

" You seem unimpressed, very well, I will tell you exactly what I am looking for"

He gestured at the warden's neck.

"That Holy regalia you keep around so much if you let me have it. Maybe I will spare your petty life"

The warden seethed with rage

"HAH, A rat like you who only managed to sneak in and kill my men, you want to spare me? We'll see who spares who!"

With this, gigantic barriers emerged in the room. The warden had clearly made preparations.

In no time at all, the neatly organized room had turned into a battleground. The once solid walls cracked as the warden began using his barriers to compress the man in between them.

However, the barriers could not follow the man's speed as he vigorously darted around the room. As such, the walls had completely collapsed...

The man who was still shackled taunted the warden

"What's wrong? Did old age finally catch up with you?"

The warden was indeed slow but by no means was he weak.

He transformed his barriers into a spherical shape, hence covering more volume. With this, he could increase their velocity even further.

Innumerable balls shot at blinding speed, as three orbs managed to land a hit, the magician was flung backwards crashing into ground!.

Amidst the chaos, one sphere coincidentally broke the chain binding his shackles.

The man free from his restrains had finally regained his powers....

In an instant he clenched his fists, completely shattering his cuffs. An enormous mana flowed through him.

"Finally, those things are suffocating you know.."

A demonic voice resonated within the room. An umbral aura dominated the office. It felt as if the man had completely changed from before.

Regardless, the warden showed no signs of hesitation. He continued his relentless barrage of attacks.

However, this time, instead of dodging, dark spikes emerged from the fissured floor and easily blocked the strikes.

There was no time to waste, the counter-attack had begun. The man clapped his hands together.

A dark ember sputtered in the distance.

Suddenly! A strange magic circle appeared above the warden, as a powerful flame surged through completely destroying all defenses. It was magic from a dark time. A forbidden technique.

"Y-You... How did you...."

The warden was shocked. As a holy magic user, he knew all about these dark spells. He narrowed his eyes at the man....

Such spells were long lost to history... How had he used this cursed power...?

The warden remained headstrong and channeled a barrier, completely encompassing the man within. This was his strongest attack. Perfectly compressing the matter between his barriers by a hundred fold.

A divine power pushed against the man, threatening to crush him. However, he was in no such danger.

"This fight is already over, you have lost". The man covered his hand in the same dark flame, he touched the barrier easily melting it through.

The warden was awestruck, he had not anticipated such strength from the attacker. However, it was far too late...

The man flickered towards the warden, using his burning hand to grab his face. The warden writhed in pain and he ripped away the locket containing the artifact. A holy treasure.

"Now, where exactly did you find this? not even the 9 apostles possess anything of this sort."

The warden, barely conscious as pain overpowered his mind, sneered.

"Like I would ever... ughh... tell a devil-like you"

The man sighed.

"Tsk, men like you don't even understand the world they are trying to protect"

The hand still holding the warden erupted into flames. As darkness consumed him.

The lifeless body of the warden dropped on the floor.

The man looked around in disappointment, a lot of useless blood had been spilt tonight. As he turned around he could see Vex, who had flown in through the broken walls. She stood still, as she observed the destruction that had taken place.

Slowly, all the mages had now gathered in the office, they bowed their heads to the man with the utmost respect.,

"My lord"

As they awaited their orders, he glanced at them,

"Lance, have the prisoners been taken care of?", he inquired.

The mage in shadows softly replied,

"Yes, I cut down anyone trying to escape."

The man gave an approving nod as he touched his face, conjuring another mask, he then looked at the witch,

"Vex, Start the recording".

The witch lowered her head in obedience, as she flicked her wrist, her bracelet beeped as a hologram pulsed through the area. recording to show the world what had happened.

On this dark stormy night, in the most secure fortress in the world, one of the strongest humans had been slaughtered for all to see.

The man looked into the hologram, six masked figures lined behind him, he uttered.

"We are Paragon."