"So you don't know what you are?"
Dorian swatted aside a few grey branches as he trotted through the dense forest, his eyes roving ahead of him.
An hour had passed. They'd sparred for several rounds, with Helena giving him solid advice and tips on how to guard and hold himself in combat. Many of the concepts she'd shared with him centered around being aware of his surroundings, on how to properly respond or react to an enemy attacking in a certain way, or other more detailed topics.
Though they'd only sparred for an hour, Dorian had soaked up all the knowledge she shared.
Some of what she taught wouldn't always apply. For example, in his Giant Myyr Dragon form, he would be far less able to agilely use footwork to dodge a blow. He had no doubt that he would pick up some other, larger forms as time went on.
Still, this was the first time he'd ever gotten any actual practice or teaching in regards to combat. He felt tougher already.
He'd also experimented more with using his will to twist Fate.
It seemed this was the inherent ability his unique soul gave him. There were certain downsides: for example, it was easier to track him through Fate. But the upsides seemed to make that far worth it.
Just by using his will, reality would bend along his wishes.
During the combat with Helena, three times he'd managed to just barely evade an attack she sent out. The first time had cost him nearly 100 points of energy, while the second took around 130 and the third around 280.
Her first attack had been almost the same as the second. Only, when she noticed she was missing, she had adjusted the trajectory of her strike slightly. She still missed, but it cost Dorian more energy to make her miss.
The same thing happened with the third blow, though this time she tried harder.
From this, Dorian learned that the energy he needed to change reality was directly related to the impact his change would have.
"No." Dorian answered, shrugging.
"I was brought into this world from nothing. I have no real parents here, no real family, except the others." He'd opened up to her, a bit, as they'd traveled deeper into the forest.
He didn't feel threatened at all by her, and sharing a bit about himself and the others didn't bother him. He decided to keep the fact that he was from Earth a secret. Anything that wasn't common knowledge for the other Anomalies was something he should keep quiet on.
Too much odd magic existed, who knew if someone could spy on him from afar or look into the past.
"Oh." Helena's response was quiet.
Dorian ducked under a large branch, his eyes catching hold of a small, grey squirrel moving along its length. The squirrel had tough, leathery grey hide and looked rather ferocious for its small size.
Creatures down here at the floor of the ocean of nothingness were stronger, and more dangerous than most surface creatures. Simply surviving down here necessitated that.
"What about you, shorty?" He asked back, taking his eyes off the squirrel to glance back at the vampire.
She was journeying alongside him as they walked deeper into the forest. Dorian wanted to test out his newfound skills on any beasts that attacked him.
Or, as he was secretly hoping, a band of robbers or thieves. He could dispense justice, and get some practice in against real opponents.
"My parents were both killed when I was young." She talked nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal. A small wave of emotion swept over her voice as she talked, however, belying her casualness.
Dorian stopped, his eyes widening. He turned fully around.
She had stopped as well, her eyes full of confusion.
Dorian walked up and gave her a hug.
In the split second before he was about to hug her, unbeknownst to Dorian, her arms blurred as if she was about to rip out his throat. At the last instant, however, she stopped, continuing to stare at him, frozen.
"I'm so sorry. That must've been really hard." The emotion in her voice made it clear that the thoughts still pained her. Dorian did the only thing he could think of, and hugged her.
After a moment, she hugged him back, ever so slightly.
"Life can be pretty unfair." He let her go, giving her a sharp nod,
"But you just gotta keep toughin' through it. I'm sure they're smiling down on you from above."
Helena's face was indecipherable as she stared at him. After a moment, she nodded slightly, casting her eyes away.
A few seconds passed in silence as they resumed walking.
"So how come you're such a good fighter?" Dorian asked, after a while, breaking the silence. Helena was incredibly skilled, from Dorian's layperson perspective. She seemed to have an innate understanding for anything relating to combat.
Helena shrugged,
"It's because I need to be. I have a single goal in this life." She said, her voice starting to brim with passion.
"And that is to defeat a certain man."
"Oh?" Dorian said, curious,
"Who?"
"The man closest to becoming a God." Helena began, her fists clenching as she spoke,
"The strongest Wizard, and warrior, in existence."
"The being that injured and cut off the path to Ascendancy for Highlord Marcus." Her eyes flashed with anger,
"The Mad King Telmon."
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
"What do you think Cassiera? Should I put the vase here, or over here?" Arthur Telmon, known to most simply as the Wizard King Telmon, glanced at the large, white vase with a worried look. The ornate flowery design on it was simple, but beautiful, and gave off a holy aura.
His violet eyes were gleamed with a strange light, while his strong jaw and small nose gave him a masculine, handsome appearance. A long, red scar ran down the length of his right cheek onto his neck, and a set of muscular shoulders. A small golden crown rested upon his head.
The white robe he wore, adorned with a black colored insignia of a wizard's spellbook, was currently pulled up tightly as he looked around the large garden he was standing in, shrugging.
It was an expansive, mystical garden. Hundreds of trees, bushes, and exotic plants lined a grey stone path, filling the area with a sense of magic and health. Magic Herbs of all sorts and types cluttered the area, a veritable fortress of wealth and plantlife.
"Oh your Highness…" Cassiera's slim form shivered into existence, the tight blue dress she wore accentuating her curves as she spoke with adoration.
"It looks perfect there!" She gushed.
Telmon frowned.
"Cassiera, I'm still holding it."
"Yes." She nodded her head,
"You are indeed, your highness. Your observing eyes are as sharp as ever." She was completely serious.
He glanced at her through narrowed eyes.
"What about here?" He put it in his other hand.
"Perfection."
"Here?" He placed it on his right knee, holding it up.
"Beauty untold."
"Here?" He placed it on his head.
"The fallen Gods have blessed your wisdom."
He sighed and set the vase down, glaring at her.
"Are you just saying that as an excuse to compliment me?"
"Wh-what, yo-your Majesty!" Cassiera blushed as she spoke, her eyes darting around.
She was an incredibly smart woman, the leader of the Fate Department. A devout and powerful Wizard, there were few as tactical and cunning as she. That was, if she was facing anyone but Telmon.
"Nevermind, nevermind." He shook his head, forcing himself not to smile. He'd stop teasing her for now.
He blinked, however, freezing as a message magically entered his ears.
A grim smiled donned his face.
"Come, Cassiera. It seems the corpse of that Anomaly has arrived." A while ago one of his Wizards had perished killing one of the invading Anomalies. Since then, the remaining creatures had caused chaos and destruction to spread throughout the 30,000 Worlds.
They still knew very little about these creatures. Having the corpse to examine might be able to answer many of the questions Telmon had.
Telmon casually waved his hand.
In an instant, reality warped and he and Cassiera vanished, reappearing several miles away in a large, grey chamber.
This chamber stretched at least a hundred meters in length, and several hundred in width, and was shaped like a large rectangle. It was hewn from the earth, set underground, many miles below the surface. Several large, glowing orbs of light decorated the sides of the mostly empty chamber, lighting it up.
A large, flashing portal could be seen at one end of the chamber. From this portal, a small troop of Wizards could be seen emerging. They wore an odd assortment of colored robes, indicating various departments. The Wave Department, the Light Department, the Sound Department, the Gravity Department, and a few others. Most of them seemed to be middle-aged or older, all powerful Lord Class Wizards. Several of them were even Pseudo-King Class.
There were very few King Class Wizards in existence, even for the gargantuan Borrel Autarchy. Lord Class Wizards made up the lion's share of his forces.
"Your Highness." A representative came forth from the group of Wizards. A Pseudo-King Class Wizard that Telmon recognized. An elderly member of the Gravity Department, Gwentel Tolm. He had short white hair and a small beard, his figure carrying forward with pride.
"My condolences about Antdre." Telmon began.
Antdre was one of the Lord Class Wizards that had died against the self-declared 'Secondborn,' a fearsome Divine Golden Lion that had since vanished, one of the other Anomalies they had lost track of. Telmon had an impeccable memory, and recalled that Gwentel had been friends with him. They were both members of the Gravity Department.
"He died a Wizard's death." The representative was somber as he replied, a tinge of sadness in his tone. He continued, not pausing, a hint of anger in his voice,
"We have successfully brought forth the corpse of the fallen Anomaly." Gwentel waved his hand.
Immediately, a huge corpse appeared in the air. A massive, thirty meter tall vaguely humanoid creature. Its entire body seemed to be made out of blackened wood, covered in hundreds of burn marks and scars. Its long arms were blackened, but covered in what appeared to be large, wooden plates. The face of the creature was almost non-existent. Instead of having facial features, it was just an oddly unsettling empty mask. No eyes, no mouth, just a blank slate.
A small, wooden crown rested atop its head, also partially burnt.
The exact description of an Ancient Boorakian Wood Giant, a powerful Lord Class beast thought extinct.
"I see." Telmon stared at it, his eyes cool. The Lord Class Volcanic Wizard Petryon, a man with a promising future, had died to kill this beast.
He blinked as he looked at it.
"It was a difficult journey, but we managed to safel-" Gwentel began, but was cut off.
"It's not dead." Telmon waved his hand. The wooden corpse flung through the air, landing down about a hundred meters away from them. Cassiera's body shimmered out of existence as she hid away, obeying a mental command Telmon sent.
"Pardon?" Gwentel looked at him in confusion.
"I said: It's not dead." Telmon jumped up into the air, his voice relaxed.
A glowing, white halo appeared, hovering around the Wizard King's forehead. The air around him remained perfectly calm and stable, not a hint of anything present.
"How foolish of you, Anomaly." A small smile appeared on his face,
"To willingly give yourself up to me." He waved his hand again,
"Are you going to wait there doing nothing? Or…?" As he spoke, a beam of white energy shot forward, intent on blasting into the giant wooden corpse.
Gwentel, and the rest of the Lord Class Wizards, all looked on in confusion. At the same time, they began to cast several defensive spells, protecting themselves just in case.
At the last second, the enormous wooden corpse shivered. Abruptly, its body jerked backwards, flipping over as it cackled,
"Ohhhh, hahahaha! You saw through me! Hahaha! How delightful!" Its voice was piercing and high pitched, an irritating whine.
As it spoke, its body began to transform, the burnt skin slogging off, revealing a plain, brown wooden exterior.
"You aren't an Ancient Boorkian Wood Giant, are you?" Telmon responded, folding his hands together quietly.
"Hahaha, maybe, maybe not? Why does it matter? What is perfection without a little fun?" It laughed as it spoke. After it finished talking, it slammed its foot down, an incredibly dense Aura bursting forth from it. Brown light flashed out, coloring the air around it.
"I, the Seventhborn, shall show you the fun inherent in perfection! Hahahaha!" Its voice took on an insane edge. Tens of thousands of wooden roots began to explode from its body, shivering forth with an incredibly dense air of power.
A faint, brown image of a Halo formed around the head of the huge, hulking wooden creature.
"Pseu-Pseudo Angelic Class!" Gwentel's face paled as he looked on in shock, his body blurring as he retreated backwards for the portal. It was a well-known fact that if a human faced a powerful bloodline beast of the same Class, they would be easily trounced.
The bodies of most beasts were simply far, far too strong when compared to humanity. Even with magic to compensate, the powerful Abilities most creatures had made each battle a tough one.
A Pseudo-Angelic Class Beast was considered a match for an Angelic Class Human Wizard.
"You are mighty, Wizard King, so I've heard! Let us have a mighty fun battle! Hahahaha!"
The tentacles of wood began to tear into space itself as they shot towards Telmon. Spatial fractures appeared, distorting the vision of everyone present. The Aura that wrapped around the wood was corrosive, painful to even look at.
Telmon shook his head,
"Arrogance." He snapped his fingers.
Immediately, an invisible barrier appeared around him. As the thousands of tentacles slammed into this barrier, they glanced off it, the spatial fractures twisting and falling out of existence.
"I will share something fun with you, my foolish friend." He smiled,
"Through my research, I've made several discoveries and established hundreds of theories. One of those theories is about existence itself."
"It is my firm belief that everything in existence is made up of tiny, minuscule particles. Every single thing, from you and your form, to me and mine."
"Everything in reality can be singled out and humbled down to a collection of numbers and data, representing the whole. Tiny minute particles, moving with purpose and energy."
By now, the thousands of wooden tentacles had completed bounced off the invisible barrier that protected Telmon. They instead began to surround him, hundreds of spatial tears ripping apart reality itself as they tried to rain down upon him.
The other Wizards had long since retreated through the still open portal, making a safe escape during the fight. They would prove useless in a match of such power and scale, and made the wise decision to get out of the way.
"Hahahahaha! Die! Collapse! Tear! Such fun! I waited so long for this!" The Seventhborn's insane voice sang out over the chaotic screams of space as more and more tears appeared.
"Do you know what that knowledge means, my foolish friend?" Telmon continued, unperturbed.
"It means there is nothing in existence that can hinder me." He clasped his hands together.
"Creation Magic." He began, casting a spell. His eyes glowed with white light,
"Atomic Deconstruction."
WHOOSH
Everything around Telmon transformed into ash.
The thousands of tentacles, the stone floor, everything within a hundred meters of him transformed into small, grey particles of ash.
The massive wooden body of the Seventhborn was the only thing left within a hundred meter gap, all of its wooden tentacles annihilated.
"Creation Magic: Universal Space Prison." Telmon waved his hands casually, casting another spell.
Immediately, the space where the Anomaly was standing in shock was sealed off, vanishing from reality as he imprisoned the creature.
Telmon sighed with disappointment as he looked around at the now badly marred room. Thousands of gaping scars could be seen, the damaging spatial waves wrecking the underground transport chamber. The portal his Wizards had used to get here had long since been destroyed.
"How boring." He shook his head,
"Cassiera, get the Earth Department to fix this place up. Also, have the Space Department work on establishing a new Network Portal." Most of the Departments had representatives here, on the homeworld of the Borrel Autarchy.
"Yes, your Highness!"
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
Dorian settled down comfortably into bed, stretching his tired muscles.
He'd gotten into several fights as he traveled through the forest, various savage beasts trying to kill him. He'd managed to practice several of the tips Helena had given him, slowly laying a foundation for his own martial skill. He hadn't acquired any unique or powerful bloodlines, but the experience and knowledge he gained made it a worthwhile venture.
Tomorrow, he decided, he would begin his final preparations.
It was time he left for the next world on his list, to journey towards the Ember Gorge, and create a new body for William.
.
