Under the blood-soaked, crimson skies that engulfed Atrila, a single mage stood defiantly against the authority of the curse that demanded attention like a queen. Like an immature baby, the cradle commanded respect for effortlessly taking down the world’s strongest in a matter of seconds.
Not even the curse-caster who had given the baby life anticipated such sentience. But with magical energy being fed directly into its heart, it would only be a matter of time until it grew one of its own.
Yes, in theory, nobody should be able to defeat it.
Its defenses were put in place perfectly to counter every form of attack one could possibly think of. The stone skin around its body and hanging rod prevented any conventional projectile from striking it down.
One could, in theory, if they were strong enough, dash to the stone and cut it cleanly off. But for that, the curse had a failsafe that drained the magical regeneration rate of a living being. By suddenly stealing what people often considered a normal energy source in their lives, their senses of smell, sight, and hearing would all be thrown into disorientation.
But in its basking ego, it had forgotten one crucial source of magic. A type of magic that was not commonly known or used, yet still existed. Having gained sentience, the curse also gained bits and pieces of human memory.
The only one who could stop it, the only recorded person in the world able to use pure arcane energy as spells, had vanished from the face of the earth a few years ago. Without the Butterfly Mage, the curse lost its only potential opponent who could match its greatest feats.
What was the point of preparing for a threat that didn’t exist? That was surely the thought process the curse ran through in its nonexistent mind. But the rules had long since changed.
Surrounded by mud-hands that slowly closed in on her position with every passing second was the new mage, Saya Idlansil.
Her entire existence, from the color of her hair to the technique she specialized in, defied the curse in every way, shape, and form.
To Saya, this was not only a way to free the people of Atrila, but also to save her best friend. She stared boldly at the curse, her murderous glare serving as a challenge to the unstoppable beast inhabiting the skies.
It was a rather simple equation, but one that could easily be undone.
If it were a matter of repeating what she had done the previous night, then there wouldn’t be a shred of anxiety tugging at her heart. But the distance, the thickness of the curse’s skin, and the lives at stake indicated that she had to give it her all.
With a sharp inhale, Saya tilted her shoulder slightly to the right. Left leg forward. She extended her left hand with an open palm, as if reaching out to the sun beyond the cage she found herself in.
“Soul Sight, active.”
She lined her middle finger on her left hand with the curse’s spine, the pillar dangling the cursed cradle.
“Ohhh~”
Atop the city walls stood a short, silver-haired girl with crimson red eyes. Next to her was an unconscious Lucia, who had fainted right after barely escaping Saya’s violent assault.
Quintella’s eyes glistened and sparkled with unbridled joy, her ten coverless toes excitedly tapping the cold stone beneath her.
“As usual, you have zero regard for your own life, Ocky.”
Balling her right hand into a fist, Saya extended her arm forward, ready to slingshot it back behind her. The visualization was simple. She would have to throw a punch so strong that it would send a beam of arcane energy toward the core of the curse.
But with the large distance between them, she would have to pool enough magical energy into her arms to successfully complete her cast.
Of course, she knew that her body did not possess the necessary magical energy to power such an attack, so she would take a page out of her enemy’s book. If magical energy was already being siphoned from the city, then she would do the same.
Except, instead of draining from the living, she would drain from the dead.
A taboo, one that would normally earn someone the death sentence. But if she didn’t break the curse, then there would be nobody to sentence her in the first place.
One life for hundreds, that seems fair to me.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
The route was calculated. There were approximately five hundred meters between her and the enemy before her. If she wanted the beam to fully pierce the stone holding the cradle, then she would need to unleash the full might of her strength to enhance not only its size, but also its speed.
“Magical Gears primed.”
Her eyes closed.
She brought forth all of the magical energy inside her body into her right arm.
I need to focus. The visualization needs to change.
I’m not shooting a beam. I’m shattering plates before me.
The plates will make a beam, so I need to break them as fast, and as hard as possible.
Fiercely opening her eyes, she finally made the first move against her opponent. Her spine arched back as she activated her gears into full swing.
“Recall. Execute!”
Blue lightning surged upward from the ground as she pulled her elbow back. The primeval power beneath the city answered her, a low-frequency hum vibrating through the soles of her boots. The air grew heavy, static prickling her skin as the energy coiled, waiting for her command.
Somewhere in the distance, a muffled crack echoed through the castle. Her dormant book tore through the stone walls of her room, trailing the scent of scorched dust and ancient parchment.
It arrived in a blur of friction-heated air, the cover snapping open with a sound like a whip crack. Five pages tore free, spinning in the air with a rapid flutter as they shed their binding.
A singular, large magical circle formed beneath the mage. Four smaller circles snapped into place around her right arm, tightening until they fit her arm like a glove.
To the unaware, it might seem that the circle served as a structure to enhance Saya’s abilities. But in fact, her power was already at its maximum, and the magical circle merely served to contain her power as much as it could.
The magical gears within her body whirred, grinding against each other as they evaporated and replenished the blood that flowed through the same body. The feedback was nearly instant for Saya, as her mind hazed and her body begged for rest.
Her hearing had nearly depleted, leaving only a dull, metallic ringing sound resonating in her eardrums. The weight of her arm seemingly increased tenfold, as if she were holding up a building with pure physical strength alone.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
A clock inside her mind started to count down. It was a sound she had heard somewhere before but couldn’t pinpoint where. All she knew was that it was only a matter of time before she failed.
But it was too early to fire now.
At best, she would only shatter five imaginary plates before her, yet her mental calculations indicated that she needed a minimum of fifty.
Thin blue lines emerged from the cobblestones, forming a glowing maze that mirrored the city’s complex grid. The light was faint but sharp, similar to the magical gears that regular humans possessed. Each vein of energy surged inward, pulsing in sync as it converged at the plaza where Saya stood.
Like a snake, it wound around her ankles in a cold, tightening coil, the sensation of scales sliding over her boots. As the energy crawled up her legs, it left a trail of static that made her skin prickle.
Within a matter of seconds, the flow from the city to the cradle had lessened by nearly half.
No longer satisfied with its offering, the curse frowned down upon its mortal enemy.
Unknown to most, the lullaby that had given birth to the curse had two parts to its song. Lucia had opted to skip the second part, as it was largely unnecessary for the role that the cradle needed to play. But the tyrant in the skies refused to give the mage even a second more of opportunity.
And thus, with the sentience it had gained, it cast the second part of the song upon itself, mimicking Lucia’s voice.
Forward and back the cradle she swings
And though baby sleeps, he hears what she sings
From the high rooftops down to the sea
Identical cradles sprouted from the original, like a complex network of beehives joining forces to take down a single wasp. Tipping over, clumps of heavy stone rained down above Saya.
The curse had given Saya two choices: either cancel her cast and move, or die trying to execute her attack.
Damn it!
It was a predicament Saya had hoped to avoid, but with the situation evolving so quickly, she needed a way to counter its attack without unleashing her beam early.
Her lessons on mana manipulation crept from the corner of her mind. If she utilized half of her current focus, diverting it to counter the falling stones, then she would just barely survive.
I can’t cast a different spell, I’m using my other arm to aim.
But I don’t need my fingers fully.
Scanning the lightning flickering all around her, she bent her fingers, visualizing a guidance tube to funnel the magical energy through a specific channel. The tyrant in the skies laughed, puffing its nonexistent chest with pride and assuming victory over the foolish mage who dared to challenge its reign.
But the curse had made a grave mistake. Unlike itself, Saya didn’t forcefully rip magical energy from the city. Rather, the city lent its power to the mage to take down the evil that loomed above it.
Yes, normally Saya’s attempts would fall on deaf ears, but currently, her wishes were the city’s command, and it desired to live just as much as she did.
With a flick of her wrist, the blue lightning snapped upward. The bolts streaked through the air like heat-seeking arrows, their passage leaving a sharp scent of scorched ozone.
As the light collided with the falling debris, the raining stones shattered, atomizing without a trace. A wall of dry, white dust rained down where the boulders had been, the grit coating her tongue and stinging her eyes as the shockwave rattled the city’s structure.
Saya locked eyes on her target.
Magical gears within her spun up like a machine, horn-like hums vibrating across the city, the very foundations of wood and clay threatened. Like a covered pot of water, red steam shot out from inside her body, the gears within her exuding as much blood as possible to make more space for magical energy.
As of now, she was no longer a mage, but the barrel of a gun that served only to accurately deliver the city’s revenge. What once began as a battle between the curse and Saya had now transformed into the curse against Atrila itself.
The magical circle beneath her shattered like glass, its remnants flying into the air and vanishing into nothingness.
Static emptied her mind as she stood locked in position like a petrified statue.
Fifty plates…
I can go a bit more.
Just to be safe.
Greed. It was greed that drove her forward.
Yeah.
My greed is what got us here in the first place.
My greed is why he’s in the state that he’s in now.
My greed is why so many people died today.
It’s because of me, and my greed.
So if I’m going to be greedy again.
I want it to be for something meaningful.
All the warnings had been placed from the very first page.
(Mixing the two techniques should allow for powerful blows, but be sure to also enhance your durability, or your limb could explode right off.)
Those were the exact words in Kuno’s notes. Ever since glazing her eyes upon them, every single swing she had given was with the expectation that she would lose an arm or a limb. But despite that, she still carried on.
“Save the Eighth”
Oktavia’s voice echoed in her mind. She could feel the glare of the one who came before her, as if a pair of eyes was looking straight into her mindscape.
It was true. The ever-so-calculating Oktavia would have never taken such a risk to begin with, most likely opting to take a safer route. This much Saya knew, due to the lack of mirages before her.
But the path laid out before her dissatisfied the newcomer mage.
Her conscious body transported itself into different realms as her soul tapped into an ancient power. A power that had been present since the beginning of time, and would remain there far after reality collapses.
Like freefalling through different tunnels, her vision faded in and out as the concept of origins came rushing into her mind.
A mountain of diseased bodies. A plateau flowing with sweets and honey. A city with bustling artificial lights that rivaled the stars.
In each of the seven destinations, every one of them was inhabited by a different silent spectre in the distance, barely out of her line of sight. They stood in silence, watching and studying the visiting mage with an unmistakable frown on their faces.
Shut up.
The power presented itself on a silver platter, an invitation to the mage so she could secure her life. But in doing so, she would follow the path that Oktavia once took, bound to the chains of her own mind, unable to take control of their own life. But no matter how much power she was offered, it was not nearly enough for her to throw away her free will.
I know what I’m doing.
The seven spectres faded, accepting her resolve without further resistance.
By the time she arrived back into her own world, the last spectre staring her down was none other than herself.
Snapping out of her temporary hallucination, her focus narrowed back toward the tyrant in the skies. The creeping approach of Oktavia behind her was inevitable, her mirage slowly closing in on Saya’s position to mark a new death spot.
Even if I die, I have to try.
Save the Eighth? Who cares about that? I don’t even know what that means!
Right now, there’s only one thing that matters in my life.
And that’s saving HIM!!!
Letting out an audible cry, even amidst the chaos, her magical charge multiplied tenfold.
Loud, explosive crackles shattered the nearby buildings, collapsing them into nothing but dust and rubble. The ground cracked, the very foundation of the city starting to cave in on itself. The book ran in overdrive, as it began to seize uncontrollably in an attempt to contain Saya’s power.
Her arm bloated like an overfilled bag of water as more steaming blood shot out from every crevice of her skin. Sensation throughout her body went numb, reserving what little physical energy she had left for the punch she was about to throw.
Blood streamed out of her nose and eyes as the functionality of her brain slowly began to halt. Sounds of splintering bones mimicked the breaking of chains, one by one subjecting not only her arm to extreme pain, but her entire mind and soul.
As the magical gears in her body started to break apart, Saya grit her teeth before letting out a loud war cry, as her first true spell came into fruition.
(All Curses Burn in Equal Light)
“ZERO CANON: GRAVEFIRE CATACLYSM !!!!!!!!!!!”
Her arm sprang forward, releasing the built-up magical energy in a single, deafening blast. For a fraction of a second, the crushing pressure inside her vanished, replaced by a hollow, weightless relief.
The recoil of the shot gave way to a wet, splintering crack that shattered her skeletal structure. From her fingertips to her shoulder, the limb exploded without a single shred of evidence. Although she had lurched forward to fire, the sheer force of magical energy sent her body flinging backwards. What little blood she had left sprayed out as her body hit the ground with a loud thud.
In the skies, the beam of arcane energy glowed brighter than the sun itself, encasing the city in a vibrance of pure white. To even call it a beam was an understatement, more akin to a pillar forged in heaven.
Its width was large enough to devour the royal castle whole. What was once meant to simply sever the connection between the branch and the cradle was now on its path to disintegrate the cursed tyrant entirely.
Like metal to a magnet, the blue lightning flickering across the city joined the beam of light, combining its might into one truly powerful blast.
As the light encased the cursed tyrant’s vision, it couldn’t help but cry about the unfair advantage the mage had against it. In its current situation, it would have rather gone against the Butterfly Mage.
Because from the curse’s knowledge, at least the pink mage would have ended its suffering humanely.
The beam of light devoured the cradle whole, the air shrieking as the pillar of white-hot energy punched through the barrier, the sound like a thousand sheets of metal tearing at once. It lanced upward, a blinding needle of light that didn’t stop until it pierced the atmosphere and bled into the stars.
Above, the shimmering dome fractured, its translucent plates dissolving into a rain of harmless, cooling sparks as the night sky greeted the city of Atrila once more. Like beautiful fragments of snow, the remnants of Saya’s spell sprinkled down upon the city as its citizens began to regain their consciousness and ability to move.
With her waning magical energy, the hovering book plopped onto the ground, lifeless as it once had been.
Saya lay on her back in the center of the plaza, her body heavy and anchored by a spreading pool of her own blood. Her breaths were jagged, each strand of hair she inhaled creating a sting in the corner of her brain.
She forcefully closed her eyes to ease the pain, but when she tried to open them again, the weight of her eyelids forced them shut, denying her the final sight of victory. Her breathing slowed as the static in her mind overtook her thoughts.
“Ten out of ten! You really outdid yourself this time, Ocky.”
“Don’t you worry, I have juuuusssttt the thing to help you get back on your feet.”
Huh..? Who… is that…?