The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 979: Show of Hand

“A contract?”

“Yes, a contract.”

“Why should I?”

“Only option laid bare. Without immediate care, I’m afraid, there’s no hope of survival. The godly aura oozes. The vampiric blood fights and claws for survival. A commendable effort. As for my offer, it’s simple. Sign a contract and become part of a greater family. A deal struck with the devil,” he lowered the smirk, “-is one not to be taken easily, nor is it easily granted.”

“Else I can die...”

“And leave the world in the hands of an unknown entity. Don’t tell me,” he distanced himself a little, “-would dying solve the matter of the heart?”

“Pardon?”

.....

“Lady Syhton, goddess admired and prayed throughout my kingdom – It would be of no consequence for the power of belief would rise another of thy kind. Who is to say the successor shan’t be a puppet of Artanos, who is to say she’ll make a worthy goddess. I’m shunned to ever be considered a god, or anything remotely associated with the righteous side of what humanity prays. I’m a humble man of humble means and humble ability. The greater picture can only be changed by a greater force. Just like rivers abled to carve mountains, you have the strength to affect everything, and I mean my words, everything.” Thᴇ link to the origin of this information rᴇsts in novelenglish.net . fire(.)nᴇt

“Igna,” she breathed and gestured for him to get closer, “-you’re the worse,” she whispered at the sharpened ear, “-trying to deceive a goddess with pretty words.” Against all odds, her knowledge of the blatant ploy led to a crucial choice, “-I won’t say I know what you want, or what the future holds. I’m defeated, a worthless goddess cursed to never regain the might of the stars... therefore, Devil, I would like to sign a contract.”

“EXCELLENT!” he exclaimed – a bubble of energy swallowed the tower into a tiny dot. Said concentration exploded into a weightless realm of nothingness. Fragmented colors – unmixed paints same to a painter’s palette sprayed across the never-ending blurry canvas. “Where are we?” she landed on a white chair.

“Welcome to the divide,” he said, conjuring a table and another chair, “-we’re in my personal storage realm. Consider it a smaller, weaker version of Mantia.”

“And?”

“Look at thy wounds,” grimoires hovered at his beckoning call, “-gaze further into the world,” she side-glanced, “-and the path leads to nothingness, for its past nothing that one makes something,” it weirdly made sense, a belief only reinforced by the eruption of massive bookshelves sealed under ancient symbols and protective barriers, “-are those relics?”

“Yes, fragments of knowledge known to only Origin and the inheritor of Mantia. There’s nothing that I can’t learn. No mystery nor unsolved riddles,” a snap erected black walls means to shield perception, “-back to us,” he led her focus onto the table, “-here’s the contract,” a translucent seal hovered. Lined by symbols, chants, and the mark of Death, Origin, Alfred, and Time signified its importance, “-make no mistake, those seals are never used lest my guest is important.”

“Three of the strongest entity known to the heavenly realm, thee wields all three?”

“No,” he smiled, “-I don’t wield nor control their action,” he undid his shirt and pulled, “-my beating heart,” the death element limped, unable to produce mana or act as a shield, “-my mark’s been destroyed, forced to live in the shadows of its predecessor. The current mark’s under Undrar’s command – the true Death Reaper. Origin, well, he’s a part of my consciousness – why doth thee think I have Mantia? Alfred is my first incarnation. My cursed fate of sufferance and betrayal was cleared on the day I learned the truth. Lastly, Time – the symbol’s, well, I don’t know where it’s at. To my knowledge, lord Scifer bestowed part of his powers onto me when he was faced with death. The little rascal was one strong man. Facing Zeus head-on and almost winning, I commend his bravado and strength.”

Her bloodied expression remained unimpressed, “-why should I care?”

“Well, I thought thee’d be interested?”

“I’ve sworn to sign a contract, there’s no need to add butter.”

“My sincere apologies,” the seal twirled and hovered onto her palm, “-care for an explanation of my conditions?”

“Is it not standard?”

“No,” he smiled, “-Au contraire, les contracts sont uniques.”1

“Why so?”

“For the contracted’s complete satisfaction.”

“Suppose I should listen.”

“Then so be it,” a scroll manifested on the table, “-on signing a contract with the devil, you must understand that thy soul and inherited assets are immediately taken possession by the Devil. As for how much is to be taken – the collateral will be decided by the devil, dependent on what the contracted asks -the range shall fluctuate. The initial fee of contacting the devil; a soul – unique to the summoner or not will be paid regardless of the contract’s status. Once signed, the devil shall endeavor to see the task accomplished.”

She popped her head in astonishment, “-this reads like terms and service agreement.”

“Influence of the mortal world,” he laughed, “-the summary is basics of what the deal entails. Now, thy demands.”

“A stronger vessel worthy of a high-tier goddess. My complete recovery and the return of my symbol to my crest. In exchange, I’ll pledge myself to the devil and his realms. As for my worldly gains – everything shall be at thy disposal.”

“Are you sure?” he crossed his legs, “-everything for those three wishes...”

“You don’t understand,” she slammed the table, “-I was locked to forever gaze upon the realms. My freedom came on a yearly basis, on the day my people hold a grand celebration – their faith allowed for my escape. It was nice, being able to walk the mortal world and enjoy the lasting moments I had before being locked. Artanos unknowingly destroyed the curse.”

“Hence the falling stars.”

“Yes. I sound like a broken record,” she sighed, “-still, I don’t know what else to say...”

“Then don’t,’ he stood, “-a drop of blood,” he said, flicking a dagger, “-and I’ll answer to thy demands.”

She grabbed the dagger, one strangely conceived and awful looking, and tapped. Droplets fell, leaving Igna holding a strange smile, “-what’s with the grin?”

“You passed the test,” he said, “-the dagger’s a cursed item. If the contracted bears any ill-will, hidden malice, agendas, or such, it’ll expand and eat the betrayer. No one cheats the devil, not even the devil himself.”

“Right,” she sustained a tone of skepticism, “-Igna, might I be frank?”

“Go ahead.”

“The devil act, are you making fun of me?”

“No,” he exhaled, “-putting on a show is just a way to relax. I mean, look at the deal from a logical perspective, the gruesome reality’s less of an appetizing meal. Words are words,” the seal burnt, “-as for me,” the room distorted in a circle with him in the center. Her injured body stretched and strained, a moment of pain released suddenly, *COUGH, COUGH, COUGH,* she gasped on all fours, “-WHAT THE FU-”

“My lady,” he smiled, “-welcome to the Shadow Realm,” they stood on a hovering isle amidst the clouds. Below laid the capital-city, “-so high,” she commented, “-the energy, why are we here?”

“Best thee remain quiet,” he breathed, symbols materialized, the energy gathered in a storm around Igna, *See the unseen, feel the unfelt, knowledge deep within, awaken for I order so; Eye of Truth,* the bicolored pupils bleached into the pure white sparked by red and purple, flickers snapped.

‘I feel uneasy,’ she retreated under a single tree, ‘-the presence’s dropped, what’s happening...’

*Ancient Magic, Spatial-Arts: Disruption.* a slashing motion slit her body in half, *Hand of the Lamented, I bring upon the earth the powers of the shunned child, watch me, the heavens and cower for I, Alfred, have reawakened. Watch as tis my forthcoming, my return, and my message to those who dare stand against me, repent!* ethereal palms dove into her soul, she screamed, “-MY HEART!” all the while the torn existence breathed and pumped her godly aura. ‘-found you,’ he gripped and pulled – a clockwork shadow fell upon the isle, *I am the slayer without fear, I am he who shall be the last of what thy see. Heed mine call, thou whomst dared to fight the natural order, tis the day thou ought to be destroyed, Ancient Magic – Astral Binding,* golden crosses impaled the figure, “-and he thought this would suffice,” chuckled Igna.

“You’re a fool,” said the clockwork shadow, “-a fool who allowed us within the shadow realm.”

“My,” he shook his head condescendingly, “-it seems lady Syhton was but a pawn, as are you. Her symbol’s fragment is your core,” he pressed a foot against the shadow, “-as for where we are, tis nothing save a temporary protective dimension.”

He forced a yelp, desperate to gather strength for an urgent message, “-you won’t win!”

“I’ve already won,” smiled Igna, “-take this message to the god of knowledge,” a simple gesture opened a passage for the message, “-now you,” a delectable grin lit Igna’s visage, *Burnt eternally in my domain, I, Igna Haggard, call forth the flame that purges gods and demons alike. Set ablaze; Abyssal Wrath.*

“AHHHHH,” skin burnt to a crisp within the ever-oppressed fire of the haunted. A soothing wind blew, scattering the ashes in a vacuum. A gem-like fragment hovered, ‘-her symbol,’ he lifted the stone psychically, ‘-damn,’ Syhton’s rather strained expression felt more of a -art work. Her body was split down the middle, forced to stretch in a ‘V-shape,’ were in the middle sprouted the tree, ‘-the birth of nature,’ he jokingly dubbed the piece and approached, *Mana Control: Light Element Variant – Astro Krona,* remnants of stranger taint were erased. *Mantia – Book of Restoration, Honzela, fifth passage, broken art be fixed, fixed art be broken, eternal cycle; creation and destruction, the levy for reality changes perspective, watcher watches, creator creates, destroyer destroys, and restorer restores, Hicht,* her soul regenerated above the weeping body, *Come forth Box of Soul.* the chest clamored beside the tree, every noise flickered speck of dust; like a blacksmith hammering an anvil, *Living or dead, I invite all to the realm of absurdity, serve me and my companions, be one of a greater family. Forgo the past and look towards the future, one in which thou art be immortal and without regret. Box of Soul: Shadow Realm Transmigration,* it instantly swallowed her godly aura. The stray symbols gathered at his feet in a pentagram bound within a circle, *-knowledge known to only the watcher, I, master and inheritor of Origin, beckon thee; Mantia, Library of the all-knowing,* pages fluttered into the center, *-Book of Rue, on the first day of the devil’s awakening – the ancient art of creation falls, for the conjurer is a priest sworn to the gods but led astray by evil. The anti-god, the devourer of angels, the embodiment of evil, cursed King Alfred, reaches the heavens and swallows Creation’s heir, gaining the powers of Creation. Fashion into life a perfect replica, grant the symbol of Creation; Yeve,* the circle burnt,” *Watchers, spectators, names ring high and low, us, unknown to the world’s reality, unknown to the world’s knowledge, have lived in utter solemness for millennia to come and go. Watcher of the Shadow Realm, beckons my might to be fully materialized without prejudice, reality is but my playground, neither god nor demon shall overcome my authority, face me in stride, face me in fear, reality’s what I wish it to be for knowledge is the true strength: Realm Expansion, Shadow Realm Variant – Rantiam.* It swallowed the circle, forcing world-shaking power into the heavens. A vessel worthy of a supreme god rose within, *I beckon the souls of the Shadow Realm, be free,* he snapped, *Release.* a rush of energy darted from the box of soul and into the empty vessel, *CLAP,* everything halted, Rantiam retracted – every spell vanished. The great veil parted. A tall figure stood presently, she watched her fair skin and tender fingers – her long black hair and piercingly light-blue stars for eyes blinked, “-welcome,” said Igna nonchalantly smacking her forehead, “-with this, I’ve completed your requests.”