Online In Another World

[The Chief’s Chamber | Emilio]

The chief’s ears flicked as he seemed to notice the sounds of battle outside of the temple walls, “I see. It’s the Verma; how unsurprising. They’ve fallen so low that they’ve recruited human children into their ranks.”

“–” He was silent.

After the damage he’d sustained, the lesser spirits had naturally vanished from him from the loss of focus.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a child. If you’ve walked into my home, I’ll crush you all the same. I’ve got my own people to protect here,” the chief said, “Don’t barge into my territory believing what you’re doing is simply righteous.”

Faced against the almighty chief of the Outriders, bleeding out as his body ached, a switch was flipped in the mind of the young mage.

Pressed into a corner with his body fluctuating between a cold and a warmth, a surge of energy as if adrenaline flooded through his veins came. Beyond that, his eyes sharpened and his breathing was calm as he slicked back his hair.

[Level Up!]

[Level Seven Achieved.]

[“Zone” Unlocked.]

Though he had not yet won the battle, the culmination of his previous victories combined with the experience gained being shoved against a wall allowed him to grow further.

I feel it. “Inspiration”–I can do it now, he thought._.

It was the unwinnable situation in front of him that triggered this development; all of the shortcomings that he experienced in what he sought to develop in his craft seemed to connect as the synapses of his brain fired off, working in unison to overcome the aspect of death in front of him.

As his shirt was packed full of holes, he took his vest and gray, long-sleeves coat off, leaving only his verdant cape around his shoulders as his blood-slick, hole-filled torso was on display.

THUD.

To the surprise of the chief, who stood across the vast, stadium-sized chamber in curiosity, the youthful human tossed his staff to the side.

“What’s this?” Chief Omana raised an eyebrow, “Don’t tell me you’re planning on using that blade at your hip? Forgive me, but I may find myself caught in laughter if that’s truly your plan.”

He didn’t respond, only looking forward as he readied himself, stretching his arms and cracking his joints before lowering his stance. The way he stood, lowering his body and bending his knees was as if he intended to launch forward directly towards the chief.

Those limitations are removed. That natural inhibition to destroy. I can let it all out now, right? Yeah, it’s fine, he told himself.

Just as the chief grumbled, casually raising his pillar-sized staff, the young boy’s hand flicked up, sweeping forward as a monstrous wave of wind burrowed through the chamber.

It was as if a viscous storm birthed itself in a moment, concentrating solely on desecrating the enclosed space as the bookshelves in the path of the wind were thrown to the side.

“–!” Chief Omana’s eyes widened.

The strength of the split-second thrown wind magic caused the giant demi-human to stumble back as his fur was brushed aggressively by the momentary storm.

How…? The boy still has this much mana?! Surely Nature’s Gift took everything! Chief Omana thought.

As the colossal elder regained his footing, he set his gaze forward to find the boy no longer across the vast room, but gone from his vision.

“What?!” Chief Omana let out.

The boy had propelled forward with wind, rocketing towards him with speed that caused the room to part in the wake of viscous air once again.

Chief Omana raised his staff in a hurry, “–Nature’s Fury!”

With the invocation, the orb at the end of the massive staff illuminated, commanding vines to form and intertwine, forming into enormous whips that were sharpened by thorns the length of spears.

Each of the vine whips stretched the length of trees, whipping around with strength that shattered the sound barrier as they swung around and attempted to swat the boy out of the air.

Amidst his travel forward, he flipped back with a burst of air at his soles, avoiding a whip strike before raising his hand up.

Without a word, he manifested four conjurations of fire; each of these spawns of flame were condensed spheres of incredible heat, swirling and instantly heating up before unleashing into massive propulsions of flame.

“–What?!” The Chief watched.

It was woven in a moment and without a word or even a catalyst; such a feat was inexplicable to the archaic, demi-human mage who was ill-prepared for such a counter.

The simple explanation for this ability without a staff being wielded was one thing: he no longer yearned to control and focus his magic, instead opting to unleash everything towards the chief.

“Burn,” he commanded in a whisper, looking forward with his sharp, amethyst eyes.

All at once, the four beams of fire roared out, spewing out as if falling from the maw of a dragon, spinning and bathing the chamber in orange inferno.

The flamethrowers reduced the colossal vine whips to cinder, filling the chamber with obscuring smoke within moments before the silently cast spell came to an end.

He stood there, looking forward as he hovered in the air, watching carefully for the chief hidden in the smoke, unknowing if the fire had felled the beastly elder.

“–You arrogant child!”

Roaring out, the smoke dissipated in the advent of the chief’s roar as a massive sphere of stone crumbled away, revealing the silver-furred demi-human within, who had hid within it. The enraged words boomed out as the chief’s staff pointed forward, leaving him little time to react.

“Fist of The Golem!” Chief Omana cast.

From the massive demi-human’s lips, the spell that was woven cast itself in an instant, causing stone to form in the middle of the air; it shaped itself into the size of a fist that was larger than a boulder.

“–!”

As he moved his hands, he began to summon shields of stone, but it was too late–

SLAM.

With a brutal impact, the stone fist shot forward, slamming its knuckles into the body of the boy, who was multiple times smaller than the rock fist. The force from the attack shot him across the room harshly, bouncing him off of the wall and causing him to roll across the ground.

The sound of cracking filled the room; it was almost too audible to be bones, but it was a pleasing sound to the ruthless chief.

As he laid there, feeling the impact in his bones, the old chief watched for a moment almost in surprise before looking down on him.

“Unsurprising. The meager spells of a whelp who still feeds on the teat of his mother could never stand against the ways of a Disciple of Nature,” the chief spoke.

Though as the chief looked down, watching from across the immense domain, he was surprised to find the boy beginning to pick himself up.

“…What?” The chief let out.

That was a direct hit. He’s a mere human child! There was nothing protecting–the chief thought.

Such thoughts were swept away as something caught the eyes of the magic-weaving elder: there were bits of stone crumbling away from the body of the boy, falling away as if it were a shattered armor.

“I see. You wove that spell beforehand. “Stonekin”–impressive, but…It did not nullify the attack in absolute,” the chief commented.

It was true; as the boy picked himself up, his upper-body was clearly bruised; his nose was turning to a shade of purple and oozing out blood as his lip was busted.

Still, he didn’t utter a single word in response to the chief; his brain was still overclocked; running on the sole intent of “victory”, the synapses began to fire off in unison once more.

This time, his heart thumped; it beat against his chest with overwhelming vigor as his blood ran hot in his veins.

“Not a single word? Perhaps I rattled your brain quite hard,” the chief egged him on, raising his staff, “–I’ll put an end to this miserable resistance.”

BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.

It was that same melody; the orchestra of his heart beating like a drum in his body as his blood danced in his veins with such heat that filled him with strength.

[Dragonheart System Activated.]

[Current Stage: Dragon Son | 2/10]

As he looked up once more, the eyes he looked at the elder with were different; his pupils had turned to ferocious slits.

…What is this? This feeling, the chief thought, the smell of flames; the stench of “that”–a dragon. Is this human of beast blood? A demi-human? No…that isn’t quite right. He’s something different. I must crush him now!

The dragon blood was pumped into his veins, but he maintained himself; he didn’t lose himself in blind savagery, but instead reached to his side, unsheathing his precious sword from its scabbard. It was the subconscious restraint he managed to invoke the Dragon Flow in that allowed him to withdraw its repercussions; he opted not to rely on the flames, saving his body from overextension.