The God of Magic: Archmage Academy (OP, LitRPG)

A fog of shadow poured toward their side of the room, covering them up to their waists. It obscured their view of the surrounding ground. The creature’s eyes were deep red and filled with hate. They pierced through the thick, shadowy fog. Now they were the only visible part of the beast, which had blended into the darkness itself. The creature loomed over them; it was easily eight or nine feet tall. Sen sensed it was going to strike a moment before it did.

“It’s attacking,” he warned.

As if his warning were an order, the beast leapt forward. Samara swung her blade to cleave the creature in two, but it swatted her strike away with its bare arm. Her shadeflame sword clanged against something hard, and with a flick of the creature’s other arm she went flying into the wall. Mori and Ilm encircled the creature, each ready to use magic techniques, but the creature ignored them.

It was moving right for Sen.

He smiled. “Binding Light Maxima.” Three thin bands of light popped into existence around his arm. He flicked his wrist, and the bands flew away from him and landed in the shadows. From where they landed, ropes made of light shot up and wrapped around the shadow creature’s limbs.

It charged forward and leaned down to bite Sen. Its jaws stopped harmlessly mere inches away from his face. He stood there unflinching, staring defiantly at it.

The creature roared.

“Through Fire Maxim!” Ilm shouted.

“Barrier Strike Maxim!” Mori said at the same time.

A ghostly fire flowed toward the creature from its right; a barrier wall clawed forward, disrupting the shadow fog on its left. The creature bent over and grabbed shadow itself. The shadows warped and condensed to form a black staff in the creature’s hand.

Then the staff’s power activated. Vines made of shadow shot from the ground and cut the bindings of light in two. The bindings snapped as if they lacked any magic power whatsoever. Those same vines enveloped Ilm’s through fire spell, and one of them burst into flames, successfully preventing the attack from reaching its intended target. The other vines pushed against the barrier to slow it, while also attacking the spell’s source. Mori was forced to release control over his technique and jump away.

The vines alone might not be that dangerous, but the fact that they moved through the shadows made them unpredictable. Sen turned to look over his shoulder and saw Milim aiming her own staff toward the creature.

It noticed, and held a hand out toward her as well, but Sen dove forward and punched it with Encapsulation and Aggression fueling his movements. His hand met what felt like bone. His eyes flickered in surprise, then he jumped to the side.

A flash of pink shot past where he had been a moment ago. Milim had timed that well.

The shadow creature took a step back. Its mind becoming hazier, its body craving sleep.

Milim fired several more blasts from her staff of incremental dreams. Each one would lure the creature into a deeper trance; each one sought to wrench control of its consciousness.

The creature roared. The wall of shadows poured forward like a wave, and Sen’s eyes widened when he sensed temporal adjacent magic. “Brace yourselves!” he called out, working to counter the effect. A wave of his own mana filled the room to challenge the shadows. He turned, noticing movement over his shoulder and realized too late the wave had come from both sides.

Darkness enveloped them.

Sen enhanced his eyesight using the same technique he’d used in the basement of Harpis Castle with Alari. But the place he’d been transported to was darkness itself. No matter what he tried, his eyes were filled with shadows.

“Is anyone there?” Sen asked, calling out to his allies. But he knew it was a pointless endeavor.

They’d been sent somewhere else. They weren’t in the same room at all.

Luckily, depending on who you asked, the creature had seemed mostly focused on him before. He hoped it held true now.

Something moved in the shadows ahead. He turned to face it. His hands outstretched to cast a spell.

He heard a movement behind him as well. Was there more than one creature in here, or was it just really fast?

He’d still been wondering when a staff smacked into his side and sent him flying. Sen tumbled hard, protected by his wards and Mana Protection, but the strike hadn’t left his defenses unscathed. He poured mana into his wards to heal the cracks and stood. This time the creature charged him openly. It roared, and each footstep it took slammed into the ground, one closer than the other until it reached him.

His eyes filled with rage, and he activated one of his newest techniques. Now seemed like a proper time to try the spell he’d gotten as a rank reward from the Flamelord.

“Ashen Blaze Maxima!”

Fire engulfed his hands. Sen felt drained as the spell temporarily purged his body of all other affinities. The Ashen Blaze was a selfish, jealous technique. When you used it, the spell demanded it and it alone be the object of your attention. Some called it the ultimate fire technique; others, a wild, dangerous magic. But wild and dangerous was exactly what he was looking for.

When his ears told him the creature was within striking distance, he struck. As his hand moved, a cloud of flames followed it. It was as if he’d dipped his hands in fire like ink and could draw in the air itself. When he moved, he left streaks of flame in his wake. The fight only intensified from that moment. He exchanged blows rapidly with the shadow creature, and with each strike the painting of the room shifted.

Sen’s punches filled the air with fire. Fiery reds and oranges that tore and burned through shadows and allowed him to see, even if just for a moment.

The monster before him was enshrouded in an aura of shadow; its very presence threatened to overwhelm reality and blot out all forms of light. When attacked, it erased light and replaced it with darkness.

Their fight was one for dominance. Who could paint the room more quickly?

Fire or Shadow?

Sen took a punch to the face. He grunted and jumped forward, driving several blows into the creature’s chest. Each time he struck the creature, he felt as if he were punching a wall. His hands bled. Each drop fell to the ground below, carrying flames with it. Every time he struck with Ashen Blaze active, he felt something burning deep within. Every time the creature struck him, that same fire roared even greater.

This jealous spell demanded that you refuse all other techniques while it was active, but in exchange, it offered great power and protection.

It was almost ready now.

He crossed his arms to endure an onslaught of attacks from the creature before him. It raked his skin with claws as his barriers failed around him. He couldn’t reinforce them while the Flamelord’s spell was active. It didn’t matter; he could endure. The pain was irrelevant with victory on the line. Each strike sent him sliding back a little further, but he planted his feet and endured, gritting his teeth.

That fire inside swelled with each burst of pain, as if it were kindling.

And then Sen felt it. He dropped his guard and stepped to the left as the creature punched directly for his core. Sen shot forward, dragging his fist against the outstretched arm he’d dodged, and his entire arm lit up like a match.

“Ashen Blaze Set Aflame Maxima!” The second portion of the spell unleashed something so powerful Sen understood how the Flamelord had earned his fearsome reputation. He punched the shadow creature through the core, and it no longer felt like a wall. It felt like punching old, dry wood, waiting to burn.

The creature flew back with such force that when it smacked against the rear wall of a room enshrouded in shadow; it cracked. Stones fell from the ceiling above, and flames raced in every direction from his body to fill the room. Shadow dissipated as the flames ate away.

He kicked his feet and flew forward to deliver the finishing blow. As flame purged shadow, he got a clearer sight of the creature.

Its antlers were just as fearsome as before, but its face was visible now. It had a mask of bone that covered it, and dark green, angry eyes stared at him through it. The creature’s core was wrapped in bone armor with dense fur that covered its weak spots, and its deer-like legs scrambled as it tried to get back to its feet.

An artifact on Sen’s person resonated with mana, even through the controlling nature of the Ashen Blaze. The will to fight left Sen’s body, and he came to a halt not far from the creature. He pulled the artifact from his belt. A small wooden flute he’d taken from the high-grade artifact collection. [The Spirit Caller.] It resonated with the being in front of him, but he didn’t need it to do so to recognize her.

Her feral form was more ferocious than the last time he’d seen it, but her soul was familiar to him. He reached out and ran his senses over it just to be sure.

“Fawna,” he said, sadness tinged his voice.

The creature growled. Whatever shadowy influence had infected her mind before was gone now. “You left us,” she said. “You abandoned us. We looked for you. But you were gone.”

Sen’s heart ached. He hadn’t expected the spirit to care, or was that true? Had he even thought to wonder before stepping into the future? Had Sen taken even a moment to think about those he was leaving behind? An impulsive step into the future, jumping a thousand years forward, and he’d done so without so much as a word. Hadn’t he always been like that, though? He’d left his own family behind to save a boy he’d never met before. He’d left Ragmár behind.

Sen had been tempted to leave Bright Sail quietly, without saying a word to anyone. Of course, he had meant it when he told Milim he wouldn’t forget her or leave her behind. Of course he had. But…it was clear now he had a habit of leaving people behind. Things were different back then, at least…he’d thought they were. He never even stopped to realize how much his impulsive decision-making affected those around him.

Ragmár had embraced him when he returned after being gone for a hundred years, but within a day Sen ran off again. His parents had accepted Saene in his place, but secretly worried for him all those years. It wasn’t until now, seeing Fawna stare at him with that look, that he realized how his actions had affected those around him.

To many people in the world back them, he’d been the God of Magic. It was expected that he would run off to deal with powerful threats. But to the people around him, to his friends, he was Sen Locke. He owed them more than what he had given them.

He walked forward with a heavy heart, and though he still sensed a quiet rage in the spirit before him, he lowered his guard completely. The deer spirit’s eyes squinted when she realized it, but Sen approached her and knelt between her legs. “I’m sorry, Fawna, I failed you. I’m so sorry.” He lowered his head and closed his eyes. If she wished to strike him, he would understand that.

But when she reached forward, it wasn’t to hurt him. The giant deer spirit pulled him in for a hug, careful to avoid impaling him with her antlers. The deep, grating voice sobbed. As it did so, her form changed, and though he kept his eyes closed, still facing the realization he had, he heard her familiar voice return. Through tears, she sobbed his name. “Sen…it’s been so hard. It’s been…”

He wrapped a hand around her and patted her back. “I know.”

Fawna had teleported him and him alone into an underground room. She said it wouldn’t take long to get back to his friends. Without the shadow magic that had infected her, she couldn’t teleport them. In her human state, you wouldn’t think she was as strong as she was, but there was a reason she’d been the steward of all his other spirits. The one he relied on to manage the others and see to their needs. She might not be the strongest of all those spirits he’d contracted, but there was no one more capable. He regretted leaving her behind more and more with each passing moment.

Fawna’s antlers were much smaller now, five or six inches compared to the massive antlers atop her head earlier. The bone mask had disappeared. She had auburn hair that reminded Sen of the fur of a deer, and bright green eyes. She wore a green top with a living flower that hung from her collar. There were leaves around her sleeves, and a green choker with a purple gemstone adorned her neck. Her magic largely favored plants, which explained the vines all over the castle. The fact that she’d been enraged and in her feral form explained the chimera ghoul corpses all over as well.

She’d massacred them in her altered state.

Fawna had been quiet for a while, walking him back to the room where they’d find his friends. But she finally found words. “I helped Ragmár for a while after you left. I thought that would be what you wanted. But…well, I was away during the invasion where he died. He’d sent me to look into something.”

“Into what?” Sen asked.

She frowned. “I don’t know. Some magician? Or something like that. He thought I was the only one who could. My memories are really hazy.” She stared at her feet as she walked. “I got word that he died. I do remember that. It felt like I had failed, so I doubled down on the task he’d given me. But something happened…I…”

Sen placed a hand on her back. “It’s okay. Take your time,” he encouraged.

She nodded. “There was a fight. I think I found the person Ragmár wanted me to. I wasn’t supposed to confront them, but I was lost, angry, and confused. In the end, I lost the fight.”

That was hard to believe. Fawna was as intelligent as she was powerful. Of all his spirits, her strategic abilities were second only to a few. But in an emotional state like that, it wasn’t impossible to believe. Her judgement was likely clouded at the time. “What happened after that?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. Shadows? I remember shadows. My mind wasn’t really my own at that point. I remember bits and pieces, but…well, you saw me.”

Sen stopped walking. “You’ve been corrupted all this time?” he asked.

He’d thought the corruption was recent. He’d never imagined it happened so soon after he left.

Fawna sighed. “Yes. I was aware enough to isolate myself. I found some quiet cave and went to die there. But…your mana.”

Sen was generous with the spirits in his employ. He hadn’t worried about them precisely because he knew they’d be able to subsist on what he’d given each of them. His mana had kept her alive in this horrifying state for all that time. “If that’s the case, why were you here?” he asked.

“I remember…sensing you. It was vague. I’d been in a state of lethargy, borderline hibernation for almost a thousand years. Your presence was what roused me. But I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t sense the artifact that linked us, so I went to the only place I could think of.”

“The castle. You came here looking for me.” It was obvious. The castle should’ve been Sen’s first stop. Not his last. Knowing Fawna had been waiting here all that time, like this. It pained him. “I’m so sorry, Fawna.”

“It’s okay. I—”

“Sen!” Milim’s voice cried out. They’d reached the throne room and his friends were already outside. They hurried over; Samara and Milim eyed Fawna. Ilm stared at Mori to see how he reacted. But Mori and Fawna were already acquainted.

“Oh my…Fawna? What are you doing he—” He trailed off and shot a glance at Sen. Mori knew of her other form too. It had suddenly struck him she was the one who had attacked them. “I see. I’m glad to see you’re well.”

Sen was grateful Mori approached the revaluation tactfully.

Samara however, was Samara. “Where’s that monster?” she demanded. “You kill it?” she asked.

Fawna grimaced.

“We don’t need to worry about it anymore,” Sen said.

Milim noticed the claw marks on his arms. “Mori, he needs healing magic,” she said.

Sen shook his head. “I’m fine for now. Let’s keep moving.” The cuts on his arm burned something awful, but he’d heal them later. Fawna had hurt for thousands of years. What was this compared to that?

Fawna reached out and touched his wounds. She whispered something, and his skin knitted back together. He looked down and then at her in surprise. “Why?” he asked her.

“Because I know you, and you don’t deserve to hurt for this. It won’t make me feel better,” she said.

Sen turned to look at her and then nodded slowly. He looked back and saw Milim staring at the interaction. She lowered her gaze.

[Smooth. Real smooth.]

Sen’s eyes locked on Mori, who as always, understood his intentions. Mori hurried over to Fawna’s side. “It’s been quite some time, deer.”

Fawna’s jaw dropped. She slapped Mori’s shoulder. “I told you that joke isn’t funny!” And for the first time since Sen had seen her, she laughed.

He smiled, grateful for the distraction, and walked over to Milim. He grabbed her by the hand. She looked up in surprise. Sen squeezed her hand for assurance, then turned to the others. “Let’s get going. Ragmár’s message is waiting.”

Samara raised a brow at the display, but didn’t say anything.

Milim blushed.

He led them into the throne room once more. The shadows were gone, and as they passed the throne, Sen ran his free hand over it. The door leading to Ragmár’s throne room chambers was unlocked. He pushed it open and stepped inside. There, in plain sight, was a stone tablet embedded in the ground so nobody could take it away from this place. Sen looked at Milim, who nodded her encouragement. He let go of her hand and approached the tablet, as everyone filed into the room behind him.

He placed a hand over it and poured mana outward to activate it.

And then he heard the secret message Ragmár had left behind for him a thousand years ago.