The Wrong Kind of Immortality

Once the order to attack was given, Maxim sighed and pushed divine power through his feet into the ground.

In an instant, the power spread outwards from him and covered all of the infrastructure around them in near-impenetrable shields. Impenetrable to things that would cause damage, that is—people would still be able to go back and forth through them.

It was one of Maxim’s original spells—one that he had created by utilising his shield-related Blessings.

Quite creative, actually.

Orestis remembered feeling impressed the first time he had seen the hero use it. Mostly due to how flawless the spell structure was.

However, knowing what he knew now, the idiot had probably perfected the spell over repeated battles with him.

It is still impressive. But not as much as before.

Regardless, it was one of Maxim’s most commonly used spells when battles started inside a populated area. That way, no matter what kind of spells or attacks were thrown around, the surroundings would remain in one piece.

After all, winning a battle mattered little when the whole city—or village in this particular case—was destroyed in the process.

The Temple forces hesitated for a second, seeing the level of power Maxim had just displayed. But then the two battle-priests and all nine mages began casting spells at Maxim. Seeing that, the paladins continued onwards.

Meanwhile, half of the soldiers—which included the disabled ones—moved to protect their loved ones, pushing them into the middle of the crowd. The other half rushed out to meet the paladins with whatever they had on hand—whether it was swords, hammers, sticks, or even fists.

By this point, Orestis had already pulled his mother up to the platform in order to get out of the crowd. In a situation like this, the higher elevation and extra space made it easier for him to protect her. Of course, he had already cast a shield around her.

Eirene and Eleuthera had also followed him, with Eirene already having raised her battle shield. Eleuthera, as usual, didn’t bother with one.

In this particular case, Orestis agreed with her choice. It was impossible for any of the Temple forces to harm her, after all. Although, his mother and Eirene still seemed a bit worried. Not for themselves, he knew—but rather for the people around them.

They were both too kind in that regard. Too empathetic.

Eleuthera offered Eirene a bag of popcorn, telling her to relax. For once, Eirene gave her patron an exasperated look and refused.

The goddess offered the bag to his mother next, but she also shook her head and politely declined. In his mother’s case though, her hands were occupied with cuddling and patting Nuri.

Their loss.

“I’ll take it,” Orestis said, then scooped the bag before the goddess could make it disappear.

“Orestis, really. This is not the time,” Eirene said, fixing him with the exasperated look this time.

“What? We’re not going to be doing anything,” he replied, throwing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Might as well enjoy the show.”

Eleuthera nodded unreservedly. “He’s right.”

Plus, it’s about time I got to stand on this side of the popcorn gallery.

Eirene rolled her eyes, but chose to accept the situation.

Orestis watched as Maxim was surrounded and bombarded. None of the spells made it past his barriers. Which was expected. What was unexpected, was that the idiot was still trying to reason with them—still trying to convince them to stop and go back.

He scoffed.

Or maybe not that unexpected. It is precisely because of nonsense like this that I call him an idiot.

If it had been up to Orestis, he would have just shoved everyone down onto the ground and forced them to listen. And also beaten up everyone from the temple for good measure.

No wait—that would be unreasonable. Let’s say I’d beat them up for making a mess and wasting my time.

Yes, much more reasonable. And completely unrelated to how I might be a bit biased against them.

Orestis munched on some more popcorn, in quite a good mood. He was really enjoying watching the idiot play around with everyone.

Maxim was leisurely casting spells—hundreds of them, but that was still quite leisurely for his level—at the paladins, mages, and even the soldiers, ensuring nobody managed to hurt anyone.

From the looks on the faces of the mages, they couldn’t seem to understand how Maxim was doing it all while also defending against their spells.

Orestis could guess, though. Maxim was likely using the viewing fold over his eye to watch the whole area with a bird’s-eye view. That way, he would be able to see and react to everything.

It was not something most people were capable of. The only reason Maxim could utilise the method so effectively was because of his enhanced, Exemplar-level senses, his perfect memory, as well as his ability to process multiple sources of information at once.

But that’s neither here nor there.

The most amusing thing was how Maxim was not favouring either side; he was preventing both the Temple forces and the soldiers from landing fatal blows on each other.

Maxim’s spells would turn a blade, push a person to the side, or even outright create small shields. And everyone was trying really hard to kill each other; they just could not seem to succeed despite escalating their efforts. Which drove them to try harder, only to fail again.

Orestis found the look of growing frustration on all of their faces to be hilarious.

I think I see what the idiot is trying to do: make everyone so frustrated that they get fed up with trying to fight.

But there was one problem with all the fighting: it was not doing the soldiers any favours. All of the active ones were foolishly using aura to fight when their pathways were already damaged—and that was aggravating their condition.

Orestis had been using a diagnostic spell from the beginning—watching them, noting the changes, collecting data for the eventual research. He had already gathered a fair bit of useful information.

However, that aside, things were not going well at all for the afflicted. A few of their auras were starting to move in erratic, unusual ways. Orestis did not think that was a good sign. Especially since they were concentrated within the aura pathways around their heads.

“Maxim, you should put an end to this quickly. Some of the soldiers are showing signs of instability.” He spoke in a moderate voice, knowing Maxim’s senses were sharp enough to hear him.

His mother and Eirene both turned to him at his words.

Eirene reacted immediately, unspooling threads of mana from her fingers. She was using the spell he designed for her. He noted that she had incorporated physical and mental paralytic effects into her threads. It was clear she intended to incapacitate anyone who went berserk.

A good choice. It would take the afflicted out of the fight, preventing them from harming their allies or dying through recklessness. Not that Maxim would need her help.

As for his mother, she clutched Nuri tight to her chest and started to pray. For the safety of the soldiers, no doubt.

Maxim, for his part, finally stopped holding back. His divine power flared as he sent spells at every single soldier who was actively fighting. There were two spells for each person: one to render all of them unconscious so that their aura would be dispersed, and another to cover them in shields so that the paladins would not be able to harm them while they were helpless.

One other thing happened at the same time. When his mother started praying, the beads in her hair had begun to glow. Faintly at first, then brighter.

Naturally, that drew the notice of the mages.

The timing was such that her prayer coincided with Maxim’s spell, making it look like she was boosting his divine powers through her prayers. And priestesses who boosted divine spells were always a priority target in battles.

Not that my mother is a priestess—but they don’t know that.

So it was inevitable that one of the mages threw a spell at her while the others tried to stop Maxim.

His mother was already shielded, but Orestis still raised his own shielded hand between her and the incoming spell.

No need to be careless.

The mage had been fighting against Maxim’s layered barriers, after all. Unless he was a fool, the spell would likely be modified to pierce barriers.

Orestis still did not want to draw attention from the Temple, so he did not use too much power for his shields. Which meant his current shield would not be enough to stop the spell. But it did not need to.

He wove a spell into the flesh of his hand so that when the spell inevitably pierced through the shield, it would be dispersed upon making contact with the spell hidden in his hand.

That way, it would look as though the shield had absorbed most of the spell, leaving only enough force to destroy his hand before dissipating. Unlikely, but completely possible.

It is convoluted, but I’d rather not have another Demerius situation.

As such, when the spell struck, the shield broke and shattered his hand in the process. He did not care about the hand. The point was that the spell had gone into it instead of past him.

Although, this is the second time I have deliberately destroyed my hand with a spell this month. If I keep this up, people might start thinking I have masochistic tendencies, he thought wryly.

And then, he heard his mother’s voice behind him—sharp, worried, almost in a panic. “Orestis!”

Right. I forgot to take into account how this would look to her.

A miscalculation on his part. Easily rectified, of course. He turned to tell his mother it was nothing. His hand would mend; there was no need for her to fret.

“I’m fine, Mo—”

He stopped.

His mother’s face was covered in blood.

A chill ran through his body at the sight.

Part of him knew that the blood was his. Part of him knew that she was unharmed. It didn’t matter.

His mother was covered in blood.

Unbidden and unwanted, memories surfaced: an empty home. The fourteenth of a month that meant nothing to anyone but him. A declaration of execution.

Suddenly, there was clarity. About what just happened. What almost happened.

A mage of the Temple had just tried to kill his mother.

Like they had killed her in the past.

He turned his head towards the mage who had cast the spell.

***

Eirene knew immediately that something was wrong with Orestis.

It had happened the moment he saw Avra’s face, spattered with flecks of his blood.

For some reason, Orestis had deliberately let the spell break his hand. She could only assume he’d done what he always did: overanalyse the situation, arrive at some absurdly complicated solution, and decide that pretending to be weaker was worth the injury.

In fairness, his face hadn’t even twitched as his hand burst. As always, he ignored the pain, treating it as unimportant and insignificant.

His expression had changed only upon hearing his mother’s cry. Then he looked guilty and sheepish. She could almost hear him hastily constructing apologies and reassurances as he turned.

And then he froze.

The look on his face turned to shock, followed by a depth of grief so strong it hurt her to even see it. And then his whole demeanour changed.

His expression turned blank. Cold.

Eirene felt a shiver run down her spine at the cold, murderous fury she saw smouldering behind his eyes. It was a rage so absolute that, for a fleeting moment, she forgot how to breathe.

And it wasn’t even directed at her.

Even Avra seemed shocked at her son’s sudden transformation. She called out to him again, but Orestis didn’t respond. It was as if he couldn’t hear her at all.

And then he turned his head to look at the mage who’d cast the spell at Avra.

What happened next was so fast, Eirene would have missed it completely had she not been using her perception enhancement spell.

There was a flicker as Orestis constructed and released a spell so fast that she only caught a faint, blurred streak rushing from him to the mage. At the same time, she also saw Maxim thrust his hand towards that same mage.

The next instant, the world shattered.

A deafening crack tore across the battlefield as a spiderweb of black fractures erupted from where the mage had been standing, spreading so far that their ends vanished beyond the horizon. Only Maxim’s barriers kept the village from being ripped apart alongside it.

The battlefield fell deathly silent as everyone froze.

Every head turned towards the epicentre, staring in stunned disbelief at the devastation. No one seemed capable of understanding what they had just witnessed. What they were seeing now. No one was looking at Orestis because they had no idea that he was the source of that devastation.

Everyone else was staring at the cracks in the air. For most of them, it was the first time they had seen spatial fractures. Even those that had seen something similar before had probably never seen it at this scale. It was as if they were looking at the world through a shattered mirror.

Only Eirene, Avra, Eleuthera, and Maxim were looking at Orestis.

As for the hero, he was already standing between Orestis and the mage. Though still alive, the mage stared blankly at the spiderweb of spatial fractures around him, looking as though his soul had left his body. He likely understood that if not for the shield surrounding his body, he would be dead right now.

As for Orestis? His eyes remained fixed on Maxim. When he spoke, his voice was utterly devoid of warmth. “Move.”

Maxim met his gaze, his expression serious. Then, with a wry, helpless smile, he said, “No.”

Orestis didn’t say anything else. He simply raised a hand towards Maxim.