Assembly of void missiles—correct. Heat their mass—ready. Sequential shots—damage to the structure's shield: forty percent, fifty percent. I estimated about six more volleys. It should have been fewer, but I did not have that much strength—not after avoiding such spells.
I was very close. It was only a matter of minutes when hell broke loose. From several points, I felt magic—all human. I wanted to think they knew of this threat. Better to leave them to their adventure. I was in a hurry to arrive. A whisper warned me in time. Lightning magic was not easy to invoke, especially without the right environment for it to be effective—and it was. A huge impact that, had it caught me off guard, would have torn me apart. I turned to see several dozen mages—all weak, some less so, but preparing powerful magics—the famous Redcaps. On the other side, some Whitecaps and many who wore something to conceal them—they were Blackcaps! They were mixed among the Whitecaps. I supposed they did not see them out of habit, but they prepared unpleasant magic.
The Redcaps attacked with power—raw power. Flames around me, ice, tornadoes—nothing I could not deflect. Yet I had no time. While I used the sword to launch a wind gust that sent some Redcaps flying, I felt the last lock on the coffin break. Suddenly, all the magic I had always held was free. She accepted the ceremony! I had no time to worry about that. The Blackcaps attacked. The blows were small, but a shield would not work—I knew what they did. I had a much more advanced version. I had the answer. Small magic circles formed around me—one-shot shields. Each time their attack came, these intercepted them. They were thin, so the magic consumption, renewed with all I had maintained the coffin's seals, made me laugh. The Redcaps were frantic, preparing new runes, but they were slow. They could not stop me. I advanced at full speed while the Blackcaps and Whitecaps attacked me. It was like feeling the patter of rain on my cloak. Yet I was not fooled—this magic was dangerous. Any sorcerer, even the great city ones, would fall to these attacks. Where had they learned them? At least they made me sweat. I raised my hand to wipe my brow, and that was when I was forced to protect myself from a greater threat.
The entire ambient temperature began to rise. Even before I saw that wave of fire, the sweat evaporated. The earth cracked, split, and finally began to melt. It was a horrible sensation. I was grateful for the war elephant boots. They were designed to withstand temperature—unlike my body. I could not worry about my attackers. I generated a very resistant field about three meters away, with another separated by less than fifty centimeters inside. Neither would serve to stop this heat. But watching how the dwarves prepared their materials gave me an idea. In that space, I filled it with ice. It was very difficult—I had to absorb all the heat contained there. But finally, the solid block of water received the full impact. It lasted five seconds. Such high temperatures that the plain was left as glass. I did not know who sent this magic, but they expected at least an army. Behind me, I could see the ashes of those who had raised their fists against me. What a waste of mana, people, and land. This would be uninhabitable for thousands of years.
The second attack was even more terrible. I had not even dismantled my double field when drops began to fall. The first impacted the ice remnants and melted them with a horrendous screech. Then came a downpour of some corrosive compound—it was poison, but something more. I left the water to absorb as much as it could withstand. Above, I added a filter like those in cities to divert excess toxins to the ground. A small puddle began to form and damage the field's integrity. Cursing, I levitated a meter above where I had stood. Not a minute had passed, but the substance had taken advantage of the ground where I had been and hollowed it out. By the time the rain ended, a hole three meters in diameter and who knew how deep remained. Around me, the glass plains showed melted parts where corrosion had time to damage. I wished I could repair the damage or at least minimize it, but there was no time. I had to breach that place.
Arriving at the entrance, I was not surprised by the majestic—the golden pillars or the doors set with jewels. I was impressed by the barrier. It was an exclusion barrier—would resist magical, melee, and nature attacks. Designed as a final defense. But I was prepared. One of the fundamental flaws in the elves' ideology was this: they believed only humans, other elves, or some magical creature would attack them. They did not consider the best—or worst—of these species.
Magic itself was nothing more than a variant of air spheres, which you could use for transport or voice communication. They fell out of use because they saw that words could be heard by everyone if they were fast, so no one paid them attention. This magic was entirely mine. First, create spheres of air, agitate the molecules inside. That was difficult—there were ten that must be used per attack. Then I made them spin around me—fast, faster. The air inside had to be very agitated. Finally, when the air had expanded to the point where it was difficult to maintain these capsules, and I had increased their protection to prevent the air from escaping, I launched them against the shield.
The impact was thunderous. Obviously, the magic layer did not damage it. But at the speed it traveled, plus the heat of the air and the physical impact itself, it had an effect. The shield's luster faded a little. So before it stabilized, I prepared these bullets again. It all came down to the shield's stability. If I managed a small hole, it would be enough. I had exhausted all my magic on the next spell—one capable of eliminating everything inside. It was a malevolent magic, but the only one I had left. One impact remained. My mind was already blurry. I could not faint—not yet.
Finally, the barrier released a different air from the unpleasant acid lingering around. The hole also released terrifying words.
Relictamque (abandonment)
Lego animam meam (I renounce my soul)
Relinquo mortem (I renounce my death)
Libet evanescunt (I want to disappear)
"She is doing what she should not! That language is not from here—it comes from a different dimension, a different reality. They are words, but their meaning enters like needles. It is impossible she knows what she says! She renounces herself—not what she sought. That is not to recover elven magic. It is something more atrocious. She wants to let a being from another dimension take possession of her being! I will not allow it!"
"My magic will kill me—so be it. It will eliminate everything and everyone here. I only wish she had loved me equally. Extinction!"
"Do not rush death, dear boy. That is what I exist for."
The voice was a cold void—the promise of nothingness. It did not matter. I already saw my magic precipitating. It was a sphere that, upon exploding, would devour everything and everyone. But instantly, I saw ashes floating. In seconds, they acquired bone consistency and embraced the sphere. They were vaporized instantly but diminished its capacity a little. Where did they come from? A melted necklace from one of the dead still falling gave me the answer. They were the Blackcaps. Who possessed such power? At least it was about to pass through the gate. Was that a decrepit hand?
The sphere exploded—I was sure of it. The impact threw me several meters back. When the pain subsided a little, I saw the bastion still standing—blackened by the impact, with almost ruined towers, but not destroyed. I had failed!
"Dear boy! You did not fail. You see, for my troops to rise, I need this. My magic is not eternal. But listen—pay attention. Your ears will give answers. Do not worry about the language; even if you do not know it, your brain will tell you."
I tried to stand, but the explosion must have been quite respectable. I still could not move. Magic healed me slowly. As soon as I generated enough, I performed minor healings—lungs, mouth, heart. Broken ribs and back had priority over my arms and hands. Still, I could hear what that necromancer said. But it was interrupted by a howl followed by words that revealed everything to me.
Morgana dominae chaos (Morgana, Lady of Chaos)
Magicae continentur (The magic contained)
Suis possessoribus reddi (Return it to its owners)
Revertetur (In return)
Vos can penetro (You may enter)
Quod regnat chaos (Let chaos reign)
Omni aeternitate (For all eternity)
My screams mingled with hers, with the necromancer's laughter, with the inhuman cackle released by the remains of what was once a simple woman who only sought approval. The explosion of magic—I could feel it. All magical objects had lost their power. All charged scrolls, prepared runes—everything. I knew it would travel to the elves. Those imbeciles got what they wanted, but the price was too high. They condemned Greenleaf. I had to go—even if I was weak, there was something I could do.
"I fear not, boy. I am the lich who stopped you. I planned everything. My hosts awaken across the continent. There will be nothing but chaos and the peace of the grave for the races here. But you will serve me dead. So I will return something not so potent but equally damaging. Extinction!"
My legs barely held me. It was obvious it did not have the power level of my magic, but I could not defend myself—only flee. I barely took a step, and several bones seized my arms. It seemed I had nowhere to go. I am sorry I failed you.