Chapter 117. Noticed
The tall stack of paperwork towered over him, seemingly radiating a visible blackened aura of rot and despair.
Pope Ferdinand of the Holy Church stared at the menacing pile with an expression befitting a prisoner facing a guillotine. He swallowed. Idly, he wondered if perhaps he could pawn the work off to one of his High Priestesses… No, they might actually poison him if he made them do any more of his paperwork. Curses, where was Anastasia when you needed her? He didn’t know where she disappeared off to this time… Ah, no matter. He’d have to do this himself. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his fountain pen and got to work.
Budget approval, northern border reinforcement request, budget approval, dimensional investigation follow-up, more budget approvals… It was utterly mindnumbing. His eyes glazed over as he stopped reading the words altogether and instead began skimming over the documents, scrawling his signature wherever needed–
His pen stopped.
His eyes focused.
There was a faint prickle at the base of his skull. The telltale sign of his [Vigilance] coming to life.
Pope Ferdinand’s Divine Skill, [Vigilance], granted him a clairvoyant sense of danger, allowing him to sense attacks before they occurred. He often likened it to the Goddess herself whispering warnings into his ear.
But why now?
He was in the heart of the Grand Cathedral. Arguably one of the most well-defended locations in the entire world. None of the guards had reported anything, all the holy barriers were intact, and he couldn’t sense any malice in the vicinity.
Was his Divine Skill somehow malfunctioning–?
The magical backlash slammed into him like a meteor of hellfire. Pope Ferdinand cried out as every nerve in his body was set aflame. His [Vigilance] activated at full force, the Goddess forgoing whispers and hurtling straight to screaming into his ear, ephemeral impressions of agony and grief and righteous fury.
This sensation…
Through the pain, Pope Ferdinand narrowed his eyes. Just now, it felt like someone had disrupted a magical leyline. No, not just disrupted; someone had sundered a magical leyline, gouged out a vital piece of the world’s pulse and rent it apart. An act as unforgivable as it should’ve been impossible. Yet, it had been done.
In response, the world itself cried out, releasing a distress signal that echoed through all the realms, calling to anyone and everything attuned enough to sense the natural balance of the world – and how it had just been completely and utterly profaned. And now, it was up to him to answer the call.
With a wave of his hand, Pope Ferdinand sent out a pulse of magic. A moment later, the great bells of the Grand Cathedral began to ring. Gasps and shouts of alarm sounded in the distance.
Understandable. Those bells hadn’t been rung in over five years, not since the end of the Third Blood War.
The ringing of the Grand Cathedral’s bells signified impending calamity.
Pope Ferdinand’s eyes hardened.
Somewhere out there, a great evil had just made their move. Combined with everything else that had happened recently… The signs were clear.
He didn’t know who, or what, the enemy would be this time. But like every time before it, the Church would face the threat head-on.
It was time to prepare for war.
“No, no, no,” Sylvie moaned, panic rising in her chest and causing her vision to dizzyingly swim in and out. She forced herself to focus. She couldn’t afford to pass out now, not when the entire Elven Council had just been taken out by a single unseen attack during their monthly meeting. Sylvie didn’t know how she managed to stay conscious; she was only the meeting’s minute taker, weaker than all the Council members by far.
Was it a foreign attack? Did the humans finally come to invade Stark, the homeland of the elves? Or did some ultra-high-tier ancient monster awaken from their slumber?
Whatever the case, Sylvie needed to defend the Council. Composed of some of the strongest elves in the entire world, if the Council went down, then so did their entire nation. She summoned health potions from her inventory and began administering them to the unconscious Councilors with trembling hands.
“Councilor Arden,” she said frantically. “Wake up, please, wake up! Councilor Cicero, Councilor Daith, Councilor Fayre – Councilor Fayre!”
Councilor Fayre had shifted slightly when Sylvie called her name. Hurriedly, Sylvie shook her shoulders. Fayre’s eyes flickered open. “S-Sylvie? Oh, my head…” She winced, clutching her head with one hand. “What… What just happened?”
“I don’t know!” Sylvie said. “That’s what I want to ask you! One moment the meeting was going on as normal. The next, every Councilor suddenly screamed out and collapsed!”
Fayre paused. Then, slowly, her eyes widened in horror.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “I remember now. The world… The world itself cried out to us. A plea for help and a keen of pain. Then… I sensed one of the major leylines perish.”
Sylvie didn’t comprehend her words. She stared at Fayre blankly. “W-What? One of the major leylines perished? Is that even possible?”
Magical leylines regularly fluctuated and shifted around. New channels opened up while old ones sealed themselves. However, though they could be transferred and translocated, they could not perish. Right?!
“I heard magic screaming,” Fayre said, her gaze vacant and her voice hollow. “Oh, how it screamed…”
And suddenly, she was in Sylvie’s face, clutching her shoulders tightly. Sylvie automatically flinched back, but Fayre wasn’t attacking her.
“Sound the alarms!” Fayre shouted, equal parts terror and resolve in her voice. “I know not the cause nor the malefactor, but if we want to survive, if the world wants to survive, then we must act now. Stark must prepare for war… and perhaps worse.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Sylvie inhaled sharply, not wanting to believe or accept what she just heard. But… Councilor Fayre was one of the oldest and wisest elves of the Council, well over two thousand years old. She’d seen many civilizations rise and fall and lived through countless calamities. She was not one to overreact.
So for her to act like this now…
Sylvie swallowed in fear.
Just what sort of a horrible fiend could’ve slain a magical leyline?!
The Dragon Haine (not to be confused with a wyvern, drake, quetzalcoatl, wyrm, or any of the other assorted inferior dragon variants out there) awoke from his slumber with a start. For a moment, he glanced around with bleary slitted eyes, taking in his surroundings. The gigantic hourglass embedded in the cavern wall revealed that five decades had passed since he last awakened.
That was strange. He wasn’t supposed to wake for another fifty years.
He strained to recall what happened. He… He had sensed something in his slumber. Something that had been important enough to wake him up.
But what?
He extended his draconic senses out into the world–
Haine froze. For a moment, he was completely still, not even breathing.
Then, the Dragon roared.
“WHO DARES?” he raged, magic exploding from his form and filling the cavern. The walls trembled and cracked as reality itself began fracturing all around him, the fabrics of space peeling apart under the unbelievable force of his voice alone. “WHO DARES VIOLATE THE SACRED LAWS? WHO DARES TRAMPLE UPON THE SACROSANCT? WHO DARES DEFILE THE MAGICAL LEYLINES?”
The air distorted, becoming hot enough to melt steel. Haine’s nap was entirely forgotten as he rose to his full height.
It appeared that certain beings had grown daring in his absence. He’d have to rectify that.
He didn’t know who was responsible for this unforgivable transgression, but once he found them…
Not even dust would be left.
Syto observed with a sort of incredulous disbelief as the Vampiric Lords rushed around the Blood Fortress in an abject uproar. Above, flocks of bats flew around in a frenzy, the familiars echoing their masters’ turmoil.
Well. He supposed it made sense. As a magical-thrall-turned-vampire, Syto’s magical attunement wasn’t as sensitive as a pureblood vampire’s, much less a Vampiric Lord’s. And even he had felt the devastating magical backlash that washed over the vampiric nation of Arcedia a moment ago.
Already, spies and informants were being dispatched into the world to gather intelligence. Syto himself was awaiting his master’s orders. No doubt he’d soon be sent out to investigate as well.
As he leaned against the wall, for some reason, Syto kept finding his thoughts drifting over to a certain adventurer he’d met two months ago. He tried to think of something else, but no matter what, his mind instinctively kept returning back to the adventurer.
Hmm…
There was no way Levi Ironwood was involved in this latest fiasco…
Right?
“LEVI IRONWOOD!” Anastasia screamed. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
“IT WASN’T ME, I SWEAR!”
It totally was him.
But Levi had a reason for it.
Not necessarily a good reason. But a reason all the same.
Contrary to what one might think, Levi’s latest actions hadn’t been entirely thoughtless. As in, he had put at least a marginal amount of thought into them. He knew that completely killing one of the largest magical arteries of the world would have calamitous consequences. Natural disasters, elevated monster attacks, collapses of entire ecosystems that relied on the ambient mana…
Which was why he only severed one of the death lines running across the Dragon’s Leyline.
The thing about death lines was that for something to die, all the death lines had to be cut. If only one death line was severed, then the target would only be partially overcome by death, thus avoiding instantaneous death.
Of course, that wasn’t to say that nothing would happen. Even a partial death line severation dealt an incredible amount of damage. In this case, an entire massive section of the Dragon’s Leyline outright withered up and extinguished. Fortunately, the southern section that led down to the capital; Levi had calculated his angles correctly.
Consequently, the Dragon’s Leyline wasn’t completely killed. Only a part of it, and that part would soon recover, thus preventing any permanent damage being done.
Temporary damage, on the other hand…
“Well done, Levi Ironwood!” Terminus laughed as he strained to pilot the ship. The sea around them became a veritable blender as shockwave after shockwave blasted out from the Dragon’s Leyline. The magical backlash was beyond extreme, and they only managed to survive due to the combined magical barriers formed by Terminus, Anastasia, and Levi. “You insane, suicidal, brilliant bastard! No wonder you were able to foil our plans in Luminarche!”
Even so, they were forced backward and upward. Terminus engaged the surfacing enchantment, fighting to keep them stable as the ship rapidly rose to the surface. Within twenty seconds, they reached the rippling waves above.
“What did you just do?” Selene asked in horrified amazement. “It… It felt like you just… killed a part of the Dragon’s Leyline?”
“Yep, that sounds about right.”
“HOW?!”
“This will have ramifications,” Anastasia said. “Your actions here just set off a blinding beacon to the entire world. Sundering a magical leyline… Anyone even remotely versed in the art of magic will regard it as an unforgivable act, regardless of the circumstances–”
“And damn all those who do!” Yuki shouted. The leader of the Resistance stepped forward, her eyes blazing with conviction. “They didn’t lift a single finger to help for the past ten years. Yukihasa was abandoned by the entire world, its people left to rot. So if we have to commit an unforgivable act to save the country, then so be it!” She turned to Levi. “I don’t know how you did what you just did, but… I thank you, Levi Ironwood.”
Levi nodded. “Of course.” He turned to Anastasia. “I know what I just did was pretty terrible, objectively speaking. But for the sake of this country… I did what I had to do.” He tilted his head. “Then again, you agree with me. Don’t you?”
Anastasia hesitated. Complicated emotions played out across her face, her duty as a High Priestess warring with her innate morals.
Ultimately, though, there was a reason why Levi held her in such high regard.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I do. So long as you’re aware of the consequences…” Her gaze hardened with resolve. “Then let’s save this country.”
Levi grinned. “My thoughts exactly. Now, the first thing we need to do is take care of that.”
He pointed, and the others turned.
“Oh,” Yuki said in a small voice.
Before them, the mighty underwater earthquakes had generated a massive wave. A tidal wave – no, this far surpassed a mere tidal wave. A tsunami more than five hundred meters tall rose up to the sky, blotting out the moon above. It was taller than the grand walls surrounding Luminarche, taller than an Elder Wyvern, taller than entire mountains. It rushed forward with alarming speed, covering several kilometers per second, its growth and acceleration enhanced by the magic saturating the water.
Fortunately, it wasn’t headed in their direction.
Unfortunately, it was headed directly toward the capital.