Trinity of Magic

Zeke swallowed dryly. This had been a depressing start to the event. He had been aware that statistically, only one in five Mages would manage to advance. However, seeing it in person was something else entirely.

He glanced at David. The man seemed unrattled by the display, but Zeke wasn’t sure if he should trust his calm facade. Out of all of them, David was closest to the advancement. His core might hit the limit of Grand Mage in the next couple of months.

Would he try to advance right away? They had not yet talked about it. But the thought of losing David or any of the others in such a way was unpalatable. He would have to find a way to make this procedure safe for his people to use.

Despite the gruesome fate of his predecessor, the second participant was undaunted as he stepped up. Unlike the earlier man, he had come alone. This could only mean one thing, this Mage was an independent practitioner. Zeke had nothing but respect for people who managed to get this far on their own strength.

His gait was slow and cumbersome as he made his way to the center of the room. With every step, the scowl on the man’s gaunt face deepened, as if even this short track was an unbearable chore to him. His sparse black hair and pallid skin only served to increase his sickly appearance.

“Greetings,” the man rasped, his voice sounding just as gloomy as his appearance suggested. “My name is Emilio Larkeson, I am 113 years old. Death affinity.”

It was only now that Zeke noticed the man’s eyes. They were two pools of darkness, the same as Aurelia Thorsten’s. Apparently, this was a mark that all death Mages shared. However, compared to the Thorsten matriarch, the black eyes were barely noticeable on Emilio. In fact, any other color would have seemed completely out of place on his face.

The man sat down cross-legged, a process that seemed to require all his remaining energy and willpower. With an audible sigh, he closed his eyes and began his advancement. His approach was quite different from the last contestant’s. Instead of using an intricate spell to scatter his core, Emilio chose another approach. Like a whale, he sucked in the surrounding Mana, without ever channeling any of it into a spell.

After a couple of moments, his core had reached its limit. Zeke winced as he saw it strain under the pressure. This was something his Mana Control teacher had always warned about. It was one of the easiest ways of destroying a Core completely. With bated breath, he observed the process, curious to see if the horror stories of his instructor were accurate.

Craaaaaccckkk!

Instead of slow-spreading cracks, the core just exploded.

This approach was working out a lot better than Zeke had anticipated. The results of the explosion were about the same as the earlier method. However, the real surprise was something else. All that attuned Death Mana was now flooding his form. It had not been given any intent or spell form, but its mere presence seemed to aid the process.

“Akasha?”

[Answer.]

It appears as if the attuned Mana is able to influence the remains of the core. No known records of this phenomenon. More data is required. Adding it to the list of research topics.

It had been a long shot, but this was a promising discovery nonetheless. Without any further hesitation, Zeke entered his Soul Sight.

He was greeted with the same scene once again. Emilio’s Soul, which was shaped like a skull, was already in the process of being stretched out. It had about the same size as the first man’s. However, Zeke noticed that it was a lot more opaque. Even now, being already stretched to twice its original size, it had not become see-through yet.

Even upon reaching the stage the previous advancement had failed at, the skull was still in good shape, with all its features clearly distinguishable. Only after being stretched to almost the shape and size of his entire body did the skull start to fight back in earnest.

The skull managed to reach the full size of his body without much of a problem, despite the occasional spasms. However, this was where the problems began. The next step of the advancement seemed to be some kind of solidification of the Soul. But the process got disrupted constantly by even the smallest jerk. The Skull, which had by now been transformed into a fully humanoid shape, was fighting against something. It seemed to be intrinsically opposed to the changes that were happening.

To Zeke Soul Sight, it looked like a skeleton wearing a horribly tailored suit. And no matter what it tried, it was unable to get comfortable in its oversized shell. The scene made for quite a bizarre picture, to say the least.

With every moment this continued, Emilio’s body seemed to grow weaker and weaker. It wasn’t long until he was unable to go on. After one final, weak pulse, his heart surrendered its duties. Soon after, his entire body ground to a halt. Zeke watched as his Soul simultaneously stopped fighting.

For a moment, he thought this might be a natural part of the process. He had read that Death Mages would always abandon their mortal coil when becoming Arch Mages, to continue their ‘life’ as part of the undead. However, it became clear that this was not the case when the process didn’t continue even after a while.

Zeke’s gaze was fixed on the scene. He had always wondered what happened to a Soul after the body died. Would it leave? Would it go to a better place? This was his chance to find out. However, the result was rather disappointing. There was no grand spectacle, no sacred ceremony — nothing. The Soul merely started to dissolve. Mere minutes later, every last trace of the soul had vanished, leaving nothing behind of the man who had been called Emilio Larkeson.

Zeke sighed. This was rather disappointing. Ever since he had learned of the Soul’s existence, he had held out hope for something more. He didn’t quite know what exactly — Reincarnation, maybe? A spirit plane solely for humans? It didn’t really matter. He had just hoped that there was something more awaiting those who had passed. But the reality appeared to be a lot more dreary.

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[Notice.]

The ambient Mana level has increased by 232% over the last 10 minutes.

Zeke studied his surroundings. Due to his tunnel vision, he had not noticed anything strange at all. This wasn’t too surprising though, as he never paid much attention to the ambient Mana levels in the first place. Mana was like air in that sense, nobody would pay much attention to it as long as they had enough to breathe. However, now that he focused on it, he distinctly noticed that there was a lot of Mana around. “Go on.”

[Hypothesis.]

The Essence of the man named Emilio Larkeson seems to have been converted into Mana. It is likely that this is the fate of any Soul that is not tethered to a body.

Was this where Mana came from? Birthed from the Souls of the Dead? According to the Giger, not only humans had Souls, but all races did, including monsters and animals. If this was true, then this would be an important discovery.

In a weird way, Zeke found the thought comforting. Instead of simply disappearing, the dead would return to the Mana. While their bodies nourished the ground, their Souls would nourish the Air.

While Zeke ruminated about life and death, the remaining spectators were still expectantly looking at Emilio’s figure. Zeke was confused at first, before realizing that they had no way of knowing that the man had failed. Bodily death was a normal step in the advancement of a Death Mage after all.

This left him with no choice but to wait. He had no way of relaying the truth of the situation to them, not without revealing his abilities. It took over half an hour before one of the organizers declared the advancement a failure. Soon after, Emilio’s body had been removed from the room, freeing the spot for the next candidate.

The next candidate was a woman who emerged from the group on Zeke’s left. Her face was hard, with lines that appeared to be carved from stone. From her tidy uniform to her short-cropped hair, everything about her screamed soldier. Her group appeared to solely consist of city guards.

To Zeke’s surprise, he spotted a familiar face among them. The man who had inspected his ship upon arrival was sitting there, in the very first row. Scanning their large group, he realized that almost a third of all guests were made up of guards. The entry to this ceremony was probably freely offered to them. There was no other way any of them could afford to be here otherwise. The city would be able to benefit immensely from every new Arch Mage in their ranks, after all.

“Meria Ponti, city guard, 103 years old, Metal affinity,” the woman barked in short order before sitting down.

Zeke turned his focus to her. The method the woman chose to use was similar to the first man, but a lot cruder. It was a force spell that seemed to serve no other purpose than to break the core. Zeke wondered how anybody could be so cavalier with their advancement. Didn’t she realize that her future was at stake here? Or was she just that confident?

The moment Zeke used his Soul sight, his expression crumbled. Meria’s Soul was by far the weakest one so far. As expected, her struggle began even earlier and was more violent. It only took a couple of minutes for her advancements to completely fail. Similar to Alessandro, her Soul ended up distorted and unmoored, leaving her with no choice but to return to her comrades in shame.

It was the same with the fourth man, another destroyed core, and another failure. Zeke was beginning to doubt if he would actually see a successful advancement today. That’s when the last participant arrived — the Bloodsword Mage.

His rigid posture and hard face were in no way lacking compared to the woman from the guard, a soldier through and through. But there was something different about this man. Zeke realized instantly what it was — his eyes. Despite appearing middle-aged at most, there was a cunning and wisdom in his gaze that belied his young appearance. This was a man who had stories to tell.

With a curt nod, the man introduced himself. “Greetings, honored Mages. I am Charles Riker, representing the Bloodsword family and my home country of Valor. I am 94 years old and have a Blood affinity.”

After his introduction, Charles sat. Honoring the name of the foremost house of Valor, his spellwork was a sight to behold and Zeke couldn’t even begin to guess at what his spell was supposed to do. Blood was gathering all around his Core obscuring it from sight, even from Zeke. But after minutes of little movement, he noticed that the clump of blood started to shrink. By the time the last of it had dispersed, there was no core left.

The realization of what must have happened hit Zeke like a ton of bricks. The spell must have demolished the core bit by bit and fed it into the bloodstream. Even after losing control of his core, a sophisticated spell would still be able to function for as long as it had mana. Out of everything he had seen today, this method stood head and shoulders above the rest.

The man’s Soul was shaped like an anatomically accurate heart, with a giant eyeball in the middle. It didn’t take long for him to realize that this would not be like any of the prior attempts. Instead of stretching and pulling, the Soul seemed to expand naturally, willingly adopting its new shape.

By the time it had completely taken on its new form, Zeke realized what was different about it. Even at this size, the heart was still as dense and opaque as it had always been. This had not been a matter of ‘stretching’ it but more like giving it room to breathe. Its previous state had been akin to a prison cell, hindering its growth.

Zeke took a moment to observe the new state of the Soul. Its appearance was still that of flesh, but instead of a heart, it was now a biped. Its single, giant eyeball was firmly affixed to the chest of the humanoid clump of muscle. In any other context, this would be quite a grotesque sight. However, he couldn’t stop marveling at the picture in front of him. His physical and spiritual views overlapped neatly.

It was at this moment that Charles opened his eyes. At the same time, all the surrounding Mana was streamed into him. Like a bottomless void, he consumed it all. Zeke didn’t even need his [Perfect Spatial Awareness] to see the changes taking place. The Mage’s body was going through some sort of Mana-Baptism, visible to the naked eye.

It was like watching a starving man feasting for the first time; or like the cracked ground being nourished by the rain. To Zeke, Charles had looked fine before — strong even. But after this transformation, his previous appearance could be called nothing but sickly, in comparison.

Charles got up slowly, his joints cracking in the process. The room waited in complete silence for what he was going to do. The blood mage balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it against his chest, a gesture that was promptly repeated by all members of the Bloodsword family.

“Today, a new sword rises!” Charles yelled to the cheers of his people. “Honor to Valor! And Honor to the Bloodsword house!”

“Honor to Valor! And Honor to the Bloodsword house!” the group echoed.

Zeke could see the many envious gazes directed at the new Arch Mage, as Charles returned to his people in triumph. He couldn’t hide a smile at the thought of what those people might say if they knew who the biggest winner of the day truly was.

[Notice.]

In accordance with Hosts wishes, I have extrapolated a model for the minimum Soul requirements. Further improvements are necessary for a safe advancement. More data is required. Adding it to the list of research topics.