Supreme Magus

They all backed away from the threshold, each weaving their best spells.

Manohar came flying out if his cell at breakneck speed. The prisonersʼ eyes turned blue as several Warping Arrays appeared throughout the room, trying to intercept the Mad Professor.

He dodged them all by continuously changing his flight path. He stopped at the last second in front of the door, avoiding the one which appeared where he would have been if he had kept flying straight.

”I beat you again, woman.” He yelled in triumph while escaping. ”I knew you would try to get me once I crossed the…”

His euphoria disappeared when he noticed there was no one behind the door. The Warping array had affected an area large enough to capture Lithʼs team.

”Wait, did I say stay away from the door? I meant: stay as far away as you can. Dammit. What kind of world do we live in where a kidnapped man has to rescue his rescuers?”

For a second, Manohar thought about leaving on his own, but dimensional magic was sealed again and he had no idea how to get out of what was clearly a death trap. The real deal breaker, though, was that losing his companions or a fight was the same for him.

”I never lose!” Manohar yelled while preparing all the spells he could hold before walking back in front of the prisoners.

”Round 2, lady. Ready when you are.”

Thrud was amused by his spunk and more than happy to oblige. A Warp array brought him in her throne room, where they were all waiting for him. She was sitting on a perfect replica of the royal throne, sipping red wine from a glass.

The throne was made to resemble a rearing griffon. Its hind lion paws were the chairʼs legs while its front eagle talons made the armrests. She had a broadsword on her lap. The blade had seven magical stones of different colors on each flat side.

The ones closest to the hilt were bright red while the ones near its tip were bright purple. A white mana crystal went straight through the center of the cross shaped hilt, pulsing in unison with the other crystals.

Every one of those present was in shock from the moment of their arrival.

ʼSay that again.ʼ Lith thought, unwilling to believe his own eyes or even Solusʼs mana sense for the first time since they had met.

ʼThat woman is insanely powerful,ʼ Solus repeated for the fourth time with her voice flat in astonishment. ʼand her mana core is rainbow colored, whatever that means.ʼ

Just like the artifact on her lap, Thrudʼs core had every possible shade of the known mana core ranks. Arthanʼs Madness wasnʼt as effective as Awakening. Even though it managed to strengthen her core over the centuries, the accumulated impurities prevented Thrudʼs mana core from stabilizing.

Yet that didnʼt make her any less deadly.

”Thatʼs the Sword of Saefel.” Jirniʼs voice was barely a whisper. She was well aware of the powers of the weapon that once belonged to the Original King, Valeron Griffon.

”No, you are wrong.” Thrud replied between sips.

”This is the Sword of Arthan. My father knew that people like you lot couldnʼt be trusted. Thatʼs why during his last years he took the precaution of having both the Royal Sword and Armor extensively studied.

”That way he could leave his full legacy to his descendants after you small minded, petty peasants destroyed decades of his hard work and sacrifices.” Her voice was sweet, but full of poison.

The passing of time hadnʼt quelled her hatred. For her, it was like Arthanʼs beheading happened just yesterday instead of centuries prior. The ground trembled below their feet due to the unrelenting attack of the Spellbreakers on the array protecting the building.

Vastor couldnʼt take his eyes off the capsule behind the throne. Like any competent healer, he had studied all of the little information the Crown had disclosed about Arthanʼs madness.

Even though it was an evil contraption, it had helped the healing arts to progress by leap and bounds. The idea of killing even a single person made his innards churn, yet seeing Thrud so young made his mind spin so fast he had fallen to his knees.

ʼThe real Arthanʼs madness. I wonder how would it feel to be young again. To become more powerful than Marth, maybe even than Manohar. Maybe my Vilya and my own children would finally respect me, instead of just seeing me as a giant wallet.ʼ

Vastor wasnʼt charming or young anymore when he married, and he did it out of self interest. There was no love between him and his wife. He had always neglected his children to pursue his ambitions and now that they were grown up, they were returning the favor in full.

Now that he was old, Vastor regretted many things. For a second, he considered Arthanʼs madness as his second chance. As his opportunity to start from scratch somewhere far away from the Griffon Kingdom and do things right for once in his life.

Then, his eyes fell on the mountains of corpses piled up at the corners of the room. Thrudʼs clones were of different ages, some very old and some barely more than children. Some were still lying around, like dirty laundry.

Their bodies were all dried up, mummified by the extraction process of their life force and mana flow.

”How many?” Vastor gritted his teeth in outrage. Nausea and scorn snapped him out of his reverie, giving him the strength to stand up.

”How many people have you killed to keep yourself young?”

Thrud laughed at his question, like a Queen at her jesterʼs joke.

”I donʼt know. Do you remember how much bread you have eaten in your life? Well, neither do I.” To reinforce the effect of her words, she raised her glass above her head and tilted it slowly.

The wine fell down in red droplets which had small arms, legs, and heads. They werenʼt real people, just the effect of water magic on her drink to alter its shape. Yet Vastor shuddered as he could almost hear the screams of all her victims falling down her throat.

Kilian was stunned by both the size of the protective array surrounding her hideout and the power source that she had at her disposal to fuel it. He could see dozens of tier five spells crashing against the barrier through the windows, yet aside from making it visible, they seemed to have no effect.

ʼEven if they manage to take it down, weʼll be long dead by then.ʼ He inwardly cursed. When they had appeared inside the room, his Third Eye had revealed no arrays, but the sheer brilliance of Thrudʼs equipment was blinding.

Kilian tried calling for back up, but his communication amulet was dead as a doornail.

Manohar appeared less than a minute after they did, showing no concern for the dead bodies, the throne, nor for the gravity of their situation.

”Well, youʼre all alive, which could already be considered a miracle considering how dumb you are.” He taunted them before turning towards Thrud. ”Letʼs kick that old hagʼs ass and…”

The Mad Professor was expecting to see Hessieʼs homely body, while Thrud was quite a stunner and she was aware of it. She enjoyed the mix of terror and desire all of her victims experienced while gazing upon her true form like the goddess she believed she was.

”I take back the old hag part.” Manohar raised his hands in apology. ”Youʼre definitely the second most beautiful woman Iʼve ever seen, but weʼre going to kick your ass anyway.”

Thrud ignored her preyʼs empty threat, but his words were unacceptable nonetheless.

”What do you mean second?”