The Forsaken Hero

The sixth level marked a significant threshold for mages. It was the number of magic circles in a spell that determined its mana capacity, but the resulting power wasn’t merely additive—it was exponential. This was noticeable at lower levels, but the true impact of this growth became undeniable at the sixth level.

While a fifth-circle spell might be capable of destroying a home or attacking a group of people, a sixth-circle spell could lay waste to an entire town or village. It was the point where magic’s destructive potential began to escalate, where large-scale devastation became a terrifying reality. Even in healing magic, the difference was stark. At the sixth level, spells gained the potency to heal entire groups instead of just individuals. It was the magic of war.

Every additional circle after the sixth drastically improved a spell’s power, scale, and effect, so much so that the difference between an eighth-circle spell and a ninth-circle spell was more significant than that of the same eighth-circle spell and a first-circle one.

The seven magic circles rotating above the city of Liceria were no different. I lowered my staff with a small, tired smile as I finished the spell. The trade-off of wielding such potent magic was that it drained a caster immensely, both mentally and physically. Due to its very nature, Mana Storm exacted an even greater toll than other seventh-circle spells, sucking up nearly all the mana I could safely part with.

But even as I swayed, legs trembling, the circles released a harmonious sound, like the pure chime of a colossal bell. It swelled grandly, almost deafening, before fading, causing soldiers on both sides to look up in alarm. The magic circles of the spell froze mid-rotation, then collapsed, imploding directly into the centermost circle, directly above Liceria’s keep. The sheer amount of mana concentrated into a single point was enough to make fate itself tremble, causing small black fractures to appear in the air.

No sooner had it condensed than the point exploded outward, filling the sky with a blazing aurora of mana that dimmed even the sun. Glimmering fingers of mana streaked down like rain on the horizon, the currents so thick and powerful they could be felt more than seen.

”By the gods,” Luxxa whispered, her grip on her sword growing flat.

Jenna’s jaw dropped open, her voice coming out as barely a whisper. ”Is that a...a spell?”

Gith was behind me, and I couldn’t muster the energy to turn, but his silence was more deafening than either’s exclamation. It wasn’t just them that could sense the absurd levels of mana, either. Panicked shouts and screams erupted as the mana storm descended in a sea of glory, but no matter how the Brithlitian soldiers ran, it was too late.

The tides of chaotic mana crashed against the graceful towers of the central keep, enveloping them in a blinding maelstrom. The floating crystal above shuddered under the onslaught, black cracks spiderwebbing across its facets until it finally shattered with a bone-jarring crack. The mana within, drawn directly from the Shard of Omniscience, erupted in a devastating shockwave that obliterated the tops of the towers.

But before the rubble could rain down, the mana storm reached the walls where the cannons were stationed. Witnessing the destruction of the crystal, the soldiers abandoned their posts, fleeing with every ounce of strength they could muster. A few of the more powerful ones managed to leap from the walls, choosing a hundred-foot plunge over facing whatever hell was coming.

There was truly no other way to describe it. As the veil of mana obscured the cannons, they began to glow with an eerie intensity. While their exact function remained a mystery, it was clear they utilized some kind of magical circuitry with crystals acting as mana batteries. Though this design allowed them to concentrate raw mana into ferocious attacks, they fared no better than the crystal, rapidly overloading and exploding.

The walls and towers trembled as, one by one, the cannons detonated in a series of devastating blasts, each as powerful as their fully charged attacks. Soldiers screamed as they were flung from the walls; some vaporized instantly. Thick clouds of debris billowed into the sky, obscuring the carnage below, broken only by the occasional chunk of masonry that blasted out, some traveling hundreds of yards before crashing into the ground like meteors.

Before the dust could even begin to settle, the Mana Storm descended on the city itself. Colossal eddies of discordant mana surged outward, whirling like tornadoes through the streets and into the fortified positions outside the walls. Stone walls and buildings cracked and crumbled, adding to the devastation as their enchantments were devoured, leaving them brittle and weak. The mana storm tore through nearly half of the army guarding the city, stopping just short of their forward positions.

As the wisps and eddies of chaotic mana dissipated, I searched the city anxiously. Though the sun shone brightly overhead, the city was shrouded in darkness, and not just from the lingering clouds of dust and mana. Tens of thousands of souls that had once shimmered like candles were now extinguished, leaving a hollow, empty ache in my heart.

Mana Storm wasn’t inherently lethal, but its consequences for both the weak and the strong were far from benign. At Western University, even the most powerful mages had been crippled, taking weeks, if not months, to recover. For those below fourth level, caught in the storm’s fury, their souls were left torn and desolate. From the testimonies given at my trial, I knew many would never fully recover.

Jenna’s voice broke through my sorrow, drawing me back to the rocky crag we stood upon. ”I didn’t even know a spell like this was possible,” she said, her voice hushed with awe, ”much less that you could do it.”

I shook my head, my voice soft and subdued. ”I’m... not who you think I am.”

It was a cruel, almost unforgivable attack, crippling the future of countless mages and warriors in Liceria. But at least they were alive. The thought did little to comfort me, though. I couldn’t doubt myself, not when we were attacking the Circle, but how many innocent lives had been caught up in the crossfire?

”Nonsense,” Jenna scoffed, clicking her tongue. ”You’re Xiviyah, the Oracle of Eternity. You’re kind and sweet, if a little shy. Whatever this is—” she gestured at the chaos below ”—isn’t you.”

”She’s right,” Gith added, breaking his silence for the first time. ”This is war, and you simply did what must be done.”

”It is indeed impressive,” Kahlen said, nodding thoughtfully. For some reason, his approval made me feel even worse. ”Yet, despite your power, you still fell short.”

”How could you say that?” Luxxa whispered, her gaze still fixed on the devastated city, her lips pursed and her face pale. ”I’ve never seen such complete devastation before. And just a single spell.”

I let out a deep sigh of resignation and finally lowered my staff. ”The curse is still there. I was hoping it would disappear with the mana, but it, well, didn’t.”

”You mean even after all that, the Heart Crest wasn’t destroyed?” Jenna asked, incredulous.

Kahlen snorted, folding his silvery arms. ”You could slaughter them at your leisure. I doubt anyone caught in the spell’s effect will be able to put up much resistance.”

”Maybe ever,” I added in a small voice.

It was disappointing but not particularly surprising. The device projecting the Heart Crest was attached to the Shard of Omniscience. It would take at least a ninth-circle spell to affect something with as much mana and power as the Shard, much less a mere eighth-level Mana Storm.

On the other hand, the crystal buffing the soldiers was consumed, so what did that mean? Was the Heart Crest just bound that much tighter to the shard?

Before I could ponder the issue further, a sudden wave of dizziness caused me to stumble. Everything spun for a second, and then my world filled with warm, silver fur as Fable caught me, supporting me with his flank.

”Xiviyah, what’s wrong? Is it an attack?” Luxxa’s voice sounded distant, but when I looked up, she stood directly before me, covering me with her shield and scanning the surroundings. Gith and Jenna had similarly sprung into action, taking defensive positions on either side.

I struggled to stand again, leaning on my staff. ”It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to cast something like that, and my soul wasn’t quite ready for it. I think I used too much of my mana at once.”

”Wait, only half?” Jena’s eyes were wide as saucers. ”You mean you could do that again right now?”

”Only if I had to; it’s dangerous for me to push my soul too far, or else the sunpurge will overpower it,” I said, touching the sensitive area on my side, wincing at the memory of the glowing scars.

As we spoke, the order to advance had been given, and the Last Light Company surged forward. Brithlite’s ranks were in complete disarray, over half their forces ravaged by my magic. The front lines and defenses had survived, the soldiers numbering a little over ten thousand, but most of the reserves and powerful mages had been incapacitated. Only a handful of seventh-level mages and warriors would have been able to survive the backlash of the mana storm, and among those, none were in a position to assume command.

”So it begins,” Luxxa murmured, folding her arms. ”The first battle against the gods.”