Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 511: The Era of Sorcery II

CH511 The Era of Sorcery II

***

Baron Belloc looked at Alex with a complex expression. It was unclear whether he was impressed or disturbed by the young man’s answer—or perhaps both.

Kron, meanwhile, was still digesting the implications hidden between Alex’s words.

”So, you believe that using a borrowed knife is the only way a mortal can kill a Combat Sage?” Baron Belloc asked.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

”How much do you actually know about Combat Sages?” he countered.

”I have only ever had the privilege of witnessing them from afar,” Baron Belloc replied.

”Well,” Alex said calmly, ”the number of Combat Sages I have personally met in my life—and had some form of relationship with, good or bad—numbers at least five.”

Kron’s eyes widened.

”I can tell you this without a doubt,” Alex continued. ”Even if you handed a mortal a Legendary-grade blade and had them stab an unconscious Combat Sage, they still wouldn’t be able to break the skin and draw blood—much less kill one.”

Kron swallowed.

’The total number of known Combat Sages in our world barely exceeds five...’ Baron Belloc thought grimly. ’Just what kind of world did he come from?’

”That is precisely why I prefer to possess both intellect and power,” Alex went on. ”Most plans require both if one wishes to execute them personally.”

He paused briefly.

”But when one lacks power—as in the scenario you proposed—there is no choice but to delegate responsibility.”

Alex’s lips curved slightly.

”In a sense, being able to wield a strong borrowed knife to achieve your goal is itself a demonstration of intellect.”

His gaze locked onto Baron Belloc’s.

”Does my answer satisfy you, Baron?” Alex asked evenly. ”Are you finally going to tell me what I wish to know?”

”Yes,” Baron Belloc replied after a moment. ”Your answer has confirmed something I have been reluctant to acknowledge for quite some time now.”

He exhaled slowly.

”It is only fair that I answer you.”

Baron Belloc sighed. His gaze turned distant, as though he were looking back across a bygone era.

”The answer you seek is a deep one,” he said slowly. ”It is not an answer that can be found in the present, but in an age long past—an age buried beneath layers of rewritten history. The Era of Antiquity.”

”The Era of Antiquity,” Alex said, ”is when your plane’s pantheon supposedly found humanity and led them out of darkness, is it not?”

Kron nodded in agreement.

Baron Belloc sneered unconsciously.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. ”So that isn’t the truth.”

”No,” Baron Belloc replied flatly. ”It is not.”

He continued, his voice heavy with disdain.

”The Era of Antiquity is merely what the deity-worshipping ignoramuses chose to call it. In truth, it should be remembered as the Era of Sorcery.”

Alex’s pupils constricted, but he forced himself to remain silent and listen. Kron, too, was struck dumb by the weight of the revelation.

”Before the current age of deities,” Baron Belloc said, ”this world was ruled by sorcerers. Sorcerers were as numerous then as warriors are now.”

He paused.

”In fact, warriors did not exist.”

Alex’s breath stilled.

”The only ascension path on Verdantis was the path of Sorcery.”

The Baron’s voice grew steadier as he spoke, as if relieved to finally recount a secret—a truth he had carried for decades.

”There were sorcerers who commanded the elements—calling forth wind, cloud, and earth with a mere gesture. Others wielded weapons—swords, spears, halberds—not as tools of brute force, but as conduits to summon the wrath of the heavens.”

”Some turned plants and beast remains into peerless elixirs and pills. Others refined metals into artefacts beyond comprehension. There were also those who tempered their bodies into living constructs, those who mastered and commanded beasts as extensions of their will, and those who cursed and slew from afar, unseen and untouchable.”

He looked back at Alex.

”The path of sorcery was voluminous— All-encompassing.”

Baron Belloc’s voice lowered.

”And through it, a civilisation was built—the likes of which we can scarcely fathom today. It was said that sorcerers who rivalled Combat Sages were common.”

He hesitated briefly before adding,

”In fact, it would not surprise me if their number rivalled those of your home world as you’ve alluded.”

Alex’s eyes flashed.

To say he was merely surprised would not be inaccurate—

but it would not be sufficient either.

Something deeper had been stirred.

From the moment Alex and his party assessed Verdantis as a Class 6 plane, he had felt a quiet dissonance. On paper, it was supposedly only slightly weaker than Pangea.

Yet in practice... it felt far weaker.

They had not travelled far—only a fraction of the world—but even so, the disparity was glaring.

For one, Legends here were spoken of as myths. Names passed down in stories. Figures revered, but never seen.

On Pangea, Legends were rare, yes—but not scarce.

One could visit nearly any major city on the Arun Continent and find at least one residing there. Sometimes openly. Sometimes not.

Given that, it made little sense for Verdantis to be classified as only marginally weaker than Pangea.

Unless—

Unless the plane had once been something greater.

If Verdantis truly possessed the illustrious past Baron Belloc was alluding to, then the classification began to make sense. Barely.

Another thought struck Alex then, sharp and sudden.

’Sorcerers... aren’t mages,’ he realised.

’Not as I understand the term.’

His eyes narrowed.

’They’re cultivators.’

Not western-style mages like those on Pangea—but closer to the cultivators from the eastern fantasy stories of his past life.

The moment the thought surfaced, everything clicked.

’Hand seals, Talismans, Sect-bound knowledge, Complex glyphic scripts... I should have realised it sooner,’ Alex thought, shaking his head.

A rare wave of self-directed disappointment washed over him.

’I’ve failed my otaku background.’

While Alex was busy mocking himself internally, Kron spoke up, his voice filled with unease.

”Father... if what you’re saying is true, then how did things come to this?” Kron asked. ”Where did warriors—and the Nav— I mean, the deities—come from?”

Baron Belloc sighed, the sound heavy with centuries of unanswered questions.

”It is unknown,” he said. ”What is known is that the sorcerer civilisation fell after encountering a great enemy—one seemingly impervious to their methods—the same one who wrought Berserk energy upon our world.”

He paused.

”That was... until the sorcerer organisations discovered a method that did work.”

”They had experimented on non-sorcerers,” Baron Belloc said heavily, ”and converted them into Combat Warriors—the first of the warrior class we know today.”

He exhaled slowly.

”However, by then, the sorcerer civilisation had already fallen beyond recovery. And it was at that moment the deities appeared—seemingly out of nowhere—claiming to be the ones who enlightened the non-sorcerers.

”The deities used their authority to resist Berserk energy to lead these newly created warriors into battle against the threat that had destroyed the sorcerer civilisation.”

Baron Belloc’s teeth ground together as though he had witnessed it all himself.

”After the Combat Warriors succeeded in pushing back that enemy, they turned their blades on the remaining sorcerers. By then, most of those left were the weak—those who had neither fled nor died in the war.”

He continued, his voice colder now.

”They were forced into submission. Those who resisted were killed. The rest were enslaved.

”The original Combat Warriors seized the holdings of the sorcerers and built their empires atop the ruins of the civilisation that came before them. At first, they banned all forms of sorcery outright—out of fear that someone might restore the old paths and rise against them... and against the deities they had chosen to worship.”

Baron Belloc paused, then sneered.

”But reality soon caught up with them. Much of the sorcerer civilisation they had inherited could not function without sorcerers. Entire systems—artefacts, infrastructure, legacy constructs—required sorcerous operation.”

”So the deities made a choice.”

”They combed through what remained of the sorcerer libraries and selected only the weaker branches—those easiest to control. These fragments were then passed down to individuals who awakened sorcerer talent in later generations.”

He clenched his fist.

”At the same time, they systematically erased all records of sorcery’s true heyday. They claimed that what knowledge remained had been lost during the Great War of Antiquity—and that it was the deities themselves who had recovered what little humanity now possessed.”

Baron Belloc looked directly at Alex.

”To prevent any possibility of insurrection, strict conditions were imposed to control the spread of sorcerer knowledge. This was done under the guise of preserving exclusivity and maintaining balance.”

”And in time,” he said quietly, ”that lie became history.”

”All mysteries surrounding the Great War—who the sorcerers truly fought, where the deities came from, how they suddenly gained dominion—were buried, deleted, and forgotten.”

”The world moved on,” Baron Belloc concluded, ”guided by a false narrative carefully crafted by the deities... so they could hold onto power forever.”

***