In a lightly dark, large room, where magic lights flickered in every corner, accompanied by the hum of mysterious artifacts and the heavy scent of medicinal plants, dozens of mages were gathered, whispering among themselves, seemingly awaiting something.
And among the small crowd, two pairs stood out, quietly standing next to each other.
"Will you finally tell me what we're doing here?" The one who broke the silence was a young man, his eyes brimming with curiosity as he turned towards the old man next him.
The old man although with a slightly hunched and long white beard on his face, was no ordinary old man as he carried around a large wooden staff. Along with the blue robes he was garbed in, his status as a Mage was evident.
That old man would sigh upon hearing his apprentice's question again, resisting the urge to bash his staff at him. The young man has been poking him on the matter during the entire trip!
Fed up with the relentless questionings, the old man rolled his eyes, finally deciding to satisfying the his apprentice's curiosity: "Since we're here, might as well just tell you..."
"Remember the research I've been going through for months now?"
"Oh, the scrolls the King himself sent?" The boy scratched his head, trying to remember what the correlation was with this day.
"Yeah, those scrolls. It's a top-secret matter, but since the ritual will start today, it shouldn't matter."
The old man looked around to see if anyone was staring at them before whispering in the young apprentice's ear:
"The King himself chose the most prestigious masters of magic to conduct a ritual that has been rumored to have always kept the kingdom safe."
"Hehe, and your master is one of these honored individuals." The old mage puffed his chest, stating a fact that any other mage would take pride in.
The old mage raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his apprentice's reaction, who just stared at him with a weird look on his face. As the mage was about to open his mouth to gloat more about his past exploits, a high pitched obnoxious voice suddenly interrupted him.
"I thought only distinguished mages were to be in this room? What are these peasants doing in front of me?"
A fat man garbed in robes similar to the old man approached the pair, his head raised up high, arrogantly flaunting his entire fit that was composed of the most expensive materials.
The newcomer grinned evilly, noticing the apprentice that happened to just slightly cross eyes with.
"Keep your eyes away, lad. Your poor master could never afford even one of these — not in a thousand year!" The fat man sneered, while caressing his staff, clearly having way more value than the old mage's.
The old mage raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised that they would meet such an individual lunching aggressively at them out of nowhere. Despite the obvious harassment, the old man's face stayed calm, turning towards newcomer fearlessly: "My lord, should I remind you the Archmage chose me personally, unlike some people who got here just because of, um... special circumstances."
The old man's word were eloquent and respectful yet it somehow, it managed to stir the harasser, his face flushing red with both anger and embarrassment. The newcomer could only clench tightly on his staff, resisting the urge to throw spells at the pair.
"Humph." The arrogant mage exaggeratedly sneered before dragging his fat body away from the two, knowing he'd lose his head were he to make a fuss in the room.
"I don't know what will become of this kingdom…" The old mage mumbled, staring at the fat figure leaving them.
"Almost half of these old-timers here somehow managed to bribe the Royal Advisor to get here without the skills and reputation." He shook his head while gazing at the mages who were both obese and dressed extravagantly. He could only recognize a few renowned mages who actually had real skill. The rest were just show-offs.
"Gentlemen, now that everyone is present, may I have your humble attention, please?"
The pleasantries and small talk within the room were interrupted as a single person spoke. It was an old man garbed in long white robes. He too stood slightly hunched with his hands behind his back, staring at the crowd with a small smirk forming on his face.
The moment the crowd laid eyes upon him, whispers of admiration would immediately fill the room.
"Archmage Vis!"
"It's the Archmage!"
The mages even started slightly bowing down showing respect to the so called Archmage. These were all well deserved attention because after all, that decrypt looking old man was considered as one of the most powerful mages within the kingdom!
"You honor me too much." Archmage Vis raised a hand, signaling them to stop with the formalities, waiting for the crowd to settle down, before finally raising his voice again.
"Greetings fellow mages. You might be all wondering about your purpose of being here. Well, today your curiosity shall finally be satiated!"
"But beware! All that I shall say is of utmost importance to the Great Kingdom's safety…"
"This matter will NEVER get out of this room. The Inquisition itself shall mandate it, so heed my words."
A chill passed through everyone's spine once the word Inquisition was mentioned. A word mentioned so casually yet carrying heavy meaning. The inquisition was an Order personally created by the Founding King. They were the protector of the Kingdom and its secrets. If there was ever one loose mouth, no matter how, that person along with every witness would forever never see light again.
Archmage Vis approvingly nodded, seeing the crowd's reaction.
"Now watch and listen." The old mage waved his hand, and a projection appeared ahead for everyone to see. It was a large map, where there continents were displayed in a triangular looking formation.
The Archmage pointed his withered hands towards a blue-colored continent displayed in the North: "The Great Kingdom, founded by King Ortus 800 years ago. It has lived through undisturbed prosperity for decades until…"
The old man slowly moved his finger to a blood-red continent in the West: "The wretched demons from the Red Continent. They, out of nowhere, concentrated all their armies in one powerful and fast attack."
As the Archmage retracted his hand, the blue continent would slowly lost its color, until almost half of it was left painted in blood red.
"Their advance was unstoppable… countless lives were lost. And the demons... they were slowly reaching these same walls that protect us."
Archmage Vis took a deep breath, and hope filled his eyes as he continued speaking.
"When the shadow of defeat loomed over the Royal Capital, one man—no… one Hero—fought valiantly against the horde."
The projection then disappearing, replaced with the image of a dazzling youth with blonde hair and blue eyes, his sword raised high in the midst of endless demonic forces.
"Hero Bob…" the apprentice whispered, his eyes brimming with admiration.
"With his heroism and strength, we managed to disrupt the demons' offensive and finally chase them away from our Great Kingdom." The old man sighed and closed his eyes with relief, as if appreciating the great act of victory centuries ago.
"But master… we already know all this. What's the point of him saying all that?" the apprentice curiously whispered to his master.
"You might not believe it, but Archmage Vis used to be an opera maestro. He likes to add spice and plot to everything…" The old man could only wryly smile at the question.
The Archmage slightly coughed a few times once he noticed the crowd giving him weird looks.
"Of course, that is the story that you all believe to be true. But it is only half true!"
"Listen well! Truth is, the Hero Bob was never of this world!"
His statement was immediately followed by whispers and raised eyebrows.
"Not only that, but the Hero is nothing but the byproduct of researches coming from the founders of the Council of Mages!"
"The same research you were all given!"
The former maestro's plot twist proved to be effective on the crowd, as they gasped, some even taking out the scrolls they were, quickly going through them again to check on the information's authenticity.
And the crowd—after a moment of discussing between themselves, were utterly convinced. Not only the secret was passed on from the mouth of the Archmage himself, a mage of great reputation, but the scrolls they had studied were another undeniable proof. They all had a general idea of what kind of purpose these scrolls were used for. And the summoning of a foreign entity was part of it.
"And your purpose today will be the same as the founding fathers of the Council of Mages."
"Summoning the next Hero!"
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A long while after the orchestrated revelation, all the mages in the room were working on a particular magic circle inscribed on the ground. Some were enchanting, some were inscribing runes, and some were mixing herbs. Only one young man was running around doing chores for every small needed thing.
Strangely he was the only apprentice in the room, as each mage came without company. The young man internally rejoiced, thinking of all the varied task he could participate in as he was sent back and for to several stations. Unfortunately for him, his enthusiasm would soon turn to bitterness upon realizing the amount of work he had been assigned with. There was just too much that was not even time for him to take a breather!
As for the Archmage, he slowly walked by each mage, moving his meticulous eyes everywhere, not leaving a single detail unchecked. He had to do so to see if everything truly could meet the quality they needed for the Ritual.
The Archmage frowned deeply after doing a full round on everyone's work. An incoming headache came along, upon realizing that most of the mages present in the room were terribly unqualified for their tasks! Not only were they working slower than the others, but the quality of their work were subpar.
'Bunch of incompetents… That advisor be damned for choosing these fools,' he thought to himself.
'We don't have the time nor resources to teach another batch… I'll have to make up personally for the gap they're creating…' The Archmage sighed angrily as he moved around helping wherever he could offer help.
Hours of non-stop working passed and finally, they finished with everything. The mages sat in exhaustion as the older ones literally slumped on the ground. As for the Archmage he felt like he could barely hold on from all the extra work he's been helping with.
"It's beautiful…," The apprentice said weakly as he poured water all over his head to cool off. His legs hurt him but that didn't stop him from enjoying the view of the finished product of everyone's effort.
It was a large magic circle that occupied half the room that quietly shone, sending a few magic ripples from time to time. It was beauty in the eyes of the apprentice, but the Archmage did not look satisfied at all.
'Despite my aid and instructions… the magic circle is still not perfectly stable… and the runes... they are not perfectly aligned… whoever concocted the herbs needs to resign… That damned advisor!'
The white-robed old man was internally raging. Not only he had to do extra work from earlier but now he'll have to use more mana than usual to stabilize the circle and make up for everything else!
"We take a pause of an hour to recuperate, then start the ritual. The King expects the Hero. We're already behind schedule. There is much more to do…"
An hour later, once everyone had recovered, the ritual finally started. As instructed by the scrolls the mages were previously given to study, each mage channeled their mana toward the circle, activating it for the first time.
Archmage Vis stood closest to the circle, controlling the mana flow and keeping it as stable as possible. Everything went smoothly as it started. As the magic went through, the magic circle slowly activated. The Archmage's eyes brightened as things were going all according to plan.
His expectations would soon plummet as he felt an anomaly in the circle. The success they had witnessed was all but the calm before the storm. Like walking normally after having had a dangerous fall.
The edges of the magic circle started to dangerously ripple. The Archmage felt it, disaster would strike if they continued on the ritual!
"We must stop this!!!!" the Archmage shouted.
If the magic went out of control, he did not know what might happen. It could vary from a small explosion to a city-wiping one. Hell, it was even probable to summon a horde of demons at this point. The possibilities of what might happen if they failed were infinite. The ritual had to be stopped immediately!
"W-we… we can't!!" the apprentice's master shouted back at him.
The Archmage soon realized that even he couldn't control his mana anymore. It was like his mana was being sucked into a strong whirlpool with only a small rope to try to pull it back.
"Oh no…" The old man's eyes widened—it was too late.
It happened within a matter of a second. An explosion so big, so loud, that even the King up high the palace could hear the echoes.