Thanks to dear Ekaterina016 for their help with this chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own Magi and TYPE-Moon content.
Uruk:
The great city was more somber than its usual hustle, a more tempered mood taking its place in light of recent events. The temples and the church offered many sermons and sacrifices for the subsequent influx of worshippers as they prayed for the army's triumphant return. Despite the rain, many still flocked to the daily prayers without fail, such was their faith and conviction.
Alexios sighed as he held an umbrella for Iman, looking over at the people approaching the church. She had asked him to accompany her due to the weather, and he was happy to oblige since he was heading there too. The church itself was fairly spacious, and the two were able to find free spots quickly as they settled down in the middle rows. He watched curiously as the old woman clasped her hands and closed her eyes, silently praying with a smile on her face.
She seemed so peaceful and serene, and so were the others within the place of worship. Alexios almost felt like he was the only one who was worried sick about the war happenings, his fists clenching and relaxing restlessly as he frowned. He couldn't study without his mind drifting to the people fighting in Magnostatt, while they sat here unable to help.
Noticing his stare, Iman opened her eyes and turned to him. "Is there something on your mind, young man?" She whispered, chuckling when the young magician attempted to play dumb before realizing he was caught.
"You're one of His Majesty's most staunch followers, Lady Iman. I didn't think you're one to be praying for him," Alexios spoke softly, scratching his head as he watched Shirou's apprentice start the sermon, now his teacher was away in the war. "Isn't it weird for someone to pray, knowing His Majesty's power and believing without a shadow of a doubt he'll come back safely?" He asked, looking down at his hands before he frowned. "Doesn't it make more sense to fight with him? Or do we do this because we're weak or powerless?" He added bitterly, frustrated by his inability to accompany the Uruk forces and share in his homeland's struggles. He insisted incessantly to join the Vanguard forces, but his requests were all denied every step of the way.
Iman hummed, patiently observing him as he slumped forward. "Prayer, young Alexios, is not the recourse of the weak or powerless. It is the solace for those who remain, the strength for those who wait," she began, her voice a gentle echo in the vastness of the chapel. "His Majesty's power is beyond doubt, but even the mightiest ruler is but a man beneath his armor. We pray not because we doubt his return, but because we know the burden of the crown is heavy, and even a king needs the light of faith to guide him home." She explained, her hand gently patting his shoulder with a motherly smile, "Our prayers, our calls, will always reach His Majesty. It is a power we offer in tribute with each sincere wish we make, no matter how shallow or simple; some wish him riches, wish him fortune, wish him power, or wish him success. Such belief can be empowering, just as much as any sword or soldier."
Alexios lifted his gaze, the frown easing at the edges. "But what of us, Lady Iman? What light guides us, when we cannot stand beside our king in battle?"
"The same light, young man," Iman replied, her eyes reflecting the flicker of candles. "The light of hope, of unity. We fight our own battles within these walls, with every prayer a shield against despair, every chant a sword against darkness. Our king fights with steel and strategy; we, with spirit and steadfast hearts." She counseled, looking absentmindedly at her cane, before she grinned at the young boy, "You never know; one day, our faith might be just what His Majesty needs."
The young magician nodded, a newfound understanding dawning within him. He stood, shoulders squared, as if the weight of his doubts had lessened. "Thank you, Lady Iman."
Iman smiled, watching as Alexios joined the others in prayer. In the sacred silence which followed, she knew every soul in the chapel, every heart in Uruk, was united in a silent vigil for their king and their land. The elderly lady closed her eyes, engraving her feelings into each prayer as the rain poured outside.
None of them could sense the cloaked figures observing Uruk from the skies, hidden by way of the magic device they carried. The five of them silently surveyed the city's defenses before they nodded to each other, signaling the beginning of their assault. Their mistress commanded them to bring ruin and devastation to the golden king's domain, deeming it a heresy unfit to witness the Father's advent.
Their spell was already well-prepared, and a giant tsunami wave barreled towards the city. Towering over the imposing walls, the catastrophic disaster would surely submerge and destroy a fair portion of the city and end many lives.
However, while some of Uruk prayed, others watched over them and their homeland.
Soldiers raced to take positions and sounded the alarms, preparing for the worst as they braced themselves for the incoming disaster. A light shone in the great Tower overlooking the city, racing at blinding speed and crossing the wall before stopping in front of the incoming wave. Once the light dimmed down, a figure in resplendent scholarly robes came into view.
"It's Headmaster Dias!" An archer declared cheerfully, the revelation immediately relieving many onlookers.
Standing before the horrifying wave with a book levitating next to him, the magician clenched his hand and willed his staff to manifest. Its especially obsidian hue was distinguishable from afar, a simple tap of the air summoning violent gales around him. The magician stared at the wave about to swallow him, the wind gathering and compressing in front of his index finger.
He pointed a finger at the tsunami, and commanded the Rukh as it coalesced into a blindingly white color.
"Aasifa."
Instantly, the wave was blown away by the violent shockwave. Many covered their ears from the deafening sonic boom, cheering as the disastrous danger was dealt with. The Al-Thamen magicians were less enthused by their failed preemptive strike, growing apprehensive when the nonchalant magician turned their way.
"That was sloppy work, I have to admit," he commented, his voice ringing right behind them.
Startled, the team swiftly channeled their borgs and made some distance. The smiling Headmaster stood right behind them, hands behind his back and robes fluttering in the breeze. 'When did he get behind us?' They wondered, one of them turning to where Dias stood earlier… only to find another him still staring at them.
The second Dias remained flying with a confident smirk on his face, before he dissolved. 'A clone? No, an illusion?!' He frowned, shifting his attention back to the young man and taking note of the strange way the rain drifted away from him. He was using the wind to shift away from him, all the while maintaining his flight and previously commanding the strong gale. It was disconcerting to see him so at ease while maintaining perfect control over the commands he was giving on a constant basis, for a youth who is not a Magi.
"You channeled more commands to give the wave its shape, rather than ensuring it had speed and seismic foundation. Very wasteful and ill-conceived, for aberrant magic," Dias continued, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders as he observed their borgs. "She must be growing senile, sending amateurs like this to cause trouble." He snickered, taking amusement in the way all five of them tensed at the mention of their master.
"You speak boldly, for a youth who knows of our mistress," one of them responded, his tone sharp as the water around them turned into the vague shape of dragons. "Without your King and his retainers, your precious city amounts to nothing!" He mocked and commanded the constructs to charge, growing exponentially bigger as they absorbed the rain.
Dias watched the attack, chuckling as it drew closer before snapping his fingers. "Hal,"he whispered, before the water constructs dissolved back into rain drops.
The Rukh… was commanded back to its original state.
"W-Wha-" The veiled man uttered in confusion, only for his words to be cut off by Dias's sudden charge. Sensing danger from the incoming staff, the man attempted to condense all of his borg in front of it, only for his barrier to shatter and for the dark weapon to pierce his head.
"A basic application of Shalal Baraq–a water-type spell composed of seven commands, four of which were unnecessary in your execution," Dias commented, before his smile receded. "That's an 'F' for you. Ihtiraq," he intoned, setting the man ablaze and reducing the body to ashes in an instant.
The remaining four looked on in shock, the unexpected charge taking them off guard. Magicians who fought so up-close and personal were rare, even more so when they were proficient enough to easily disengage from close quarters. Not to mention the way he broke through such a focused defense–the display boding ill for any protection they thought their barriers offered.
"Even if our King was here, lowly scum like you wouldn't have seen him," Dias stated casually, twirling his staff before pointing it at the group. "You didn't know self-defense was a mandatory class for magicians around here, did you?" He added with a condescending smirk on his face, his casual attitude provoking the masked assailants further.
"Let's see how you'll handle this!" One of them snickered, pulling an orb before crushing it. Silence stretched for a few moments, before the seas rumbled once more as numerous wyrms and monstrosities rushed to the surface. Their skins and bodies were unnaturally dark as they roared collectively, the disturbing eyes spread across their forms shifting focusing on the city not far away. They spared no expense in capturing the beasts and injecting them with dark Metal Vessels to enhance them with Black Rukh, forming a force capable of completely demolishing the walls along with the harbor.
Dias observed the incoming monsters without worry, yawning as he turned to the group watching him. "Is that all?" He asked, letting go of his staff and pointing at the Al-Thamen magicians with his index and middle fingers. "Then I don't have to worry. Thaqb." He concluded, his staff blasting a hole through one of them before they could react.
The men at the walls prepared for the incoming horde, the air growing somber as they beheld the disgusting mass of eyes glaring at them. Despite any fears they held, the men stood their ground and readied their arrows and spears. Standing at the forefront on top of the wall gates, Adam sighed as he clenched his fist and channeled his Magoi into his ring. "Let us begin. Halphas."
The octagram shone a menacing red, before his limb turned metallic as a strong heat permeated his surroundings. The meshwork of different metals continued to encroach upon his form, until half of his chest shifted to the metallic hue, before the smith halted his transformation.
Half Djinn Equip was enough for the task.
"Obey my command, dingirs," Adam declared, his metallic limb shining dazzlingly as the numerous canons stationed upon the walls were activated. In unison, the constructs took aim at the monsters and began loading vast amounts of Magoi. The stoic smith waited patiently until the beasts were in prime position, before he lowered his hand. "Fire!"
Explosions shook the earth as the blasts coalesced upon the horde, blasting a temporary hole in the sea and leaving only bits and pieces of the sea creatures in their wake. The beasts unfortunate enough to not evaporate from the initial strike were left in tatters as they were blasted away from the harbor, the cannons already ready for a second volley as if daring the enemy to attempt another assault.
"I-Impossible…" The Al-Thamen attackers were stunned, the unexpected level of devastation beyond their wildest estimates of Uruk's lingering combat prowess.
"If that vixen of yours wanted to make a scene, tell her to come herself," Dias mocked the group, crossing his hands while his staff floated beside him. "Any other tricks up your sleeves? I need more interesting material for the students' next presentation," he egged them on further, beckoning them with a friendly smile.
One grew fearful of the confrontation and attempted to flee, channeling all of his Magoi to propel himself as far away from this place as possible. Even if the initial attack failed, the intelligence gained from it was still of great importance. It was especially important for a nation as mysterious as Uruk, who had evaded their scrutiny without fail.
And for such vital information to be recovered, one of them needed to escape. The agent grew relieved when he noticed Dias didn't give chase, his hope for a successful retreat bringing sweet relief… until he caught sight of a glint in the periphery of his vision, and the world turned dark.
The remaining two watched as their comrade's head flew in the air before it joined his falling body into the sea, hurriedly watching each other's backs when they realized they were surrounded now. Izamu blocked their escape path, while Dias prevented them from advancing.
"Stop playing around, Dias," the general reprimanded, giving his friend and peer a stern glare as he held his sheathed sword casually. Wind circled the weapon, providing a sharp edge for its covered form. He would never hear the end of it from the others if he went all out against such enemies.
"So it has come to this," the two magicians uttered, each pulling a dagger with a blackened blade. Without warning, both proceeded to stab themselves with the weapons as a swarm of Black Rukh burst from their bodies. "Grant us strength, o' Father!"
Dias and Izamu held their ground, staring at the pitch-black sphere and the gathering Black Rukh. The sphere began bloating and contorting until a dark hand broke out of it, the crystalized darkness withering to dust and revealing the monstrous goliath born from within. Its size, comparable to the Ziggurat, made it easily noticeable from far away, as it outstretched its four arms. Its head had two faces, each glaring murderously at the general and headmaster, channeling different spells in each of its hands.
"Well now, this is interesting. They're like Black Djinns." Dias whistled, finally closing his book as he observed the spells with intrigue. "The spells aren't well-structured, so it's likely relying on instincts to manipulate the Rukh," he noted, snapping his finger and dispelling the fireball on one of the monster's hands, only for it to return immediately. "So that's how it is–relying on quantity now, eh?" The magician snickered, before he waved his staff with a flourish.
"I'll show you how it's done; Shalal Tenin."
The sea began to rumble, forming a whirlpool before a powerful stream soared to the clouds. The stream took shape, as the waters obeyed the headmaster's commands.
First came the pointy horns and the claws, followed by the snarling face of the enormous wyrm drake glaring at the black behemoth. The dragon easily matched the Black Djinn in size, the foam and vapor giving the illusion of smoke.
"I hate to break it to you, but if that's all it took to drive us into a corner, we wouldn't last a year in our positions," Dias spoke from his new seat atop the large water dragon's head, smiling mischievously at the general.
Izamu shook his head, giving little concern to his friend's antics. "Show off," he whispered, dismissing Dias's presence entirely and focusing on the monster before them.
"I can't hear you from up here, little guy!" Dias quipped, clicking his teeth when his teasing went unheeded. "Let's see what you've got, ugly." He beckoned, his dragon snarling as it charged at the two-faced Black Djinn.
The watchmen and citizens bore witness as battle resumed and thunder roared above the skies of Uruk.
Magnostatt:
Surgical devastation.
It was the first thought in Titus and Aladdin's heads when they first returned to the city, finding only sadness and fear where once there were smiles and laughter. The injured and dead were rushed in droves when the assassination of the healers was discovered, the magicians racing against time to save those who might still survive their wounds.
Two barriers were still down, and would remain so because of the damage caused to the defense facilities. It was only thanks to the quick work of the senior magicians they had the third barrier at all, even though it wasn't running on full power.
Gazing at the despondent soldiers and defeated looks of the magicians, both knew one thing. A realization shared by the majority of the citizens, and even more so for those who witnessed Uruk's assault.
Had it not been for Scheherazade, this nation would've been defeated on the first charge.
Aladdin and Titus were the most aware, having seen the golden King with their own eyes. Although the magicians saw how the Rukh inexplicably shifted its very nature to his will, the Magi was able to sense the depths of his power he possessed. A will capable of imposing its own rules, strong enough to force the Rukh to submit. His influence knew no restrictions, encompassing all of his followers and warriors beyond anything the two had seen.
"I can't believe they passed the protections so quickly." Titus broke the silence as the two treaded carefully through the rubble, wincing when they spotted some of the injured and the dead awaiting retrieval. "The others never knew what hit them," he lamented, averting his gaze from the distraught family huddling together around a fire.
"We can't let another fight take place." Aladdin affirmed, dreading the destruction and lingering catastrophe further conflict would bring. Uruk's strength was made clear through the first clash, and a second one would finish off any possible resistance. Only, the Magi knew no magician would willingly give up the homeland they built, no matter what hid beneath the very dirt they cherished.
The implications of this uncompromising nature was not lost on either of them, and Aladdin shuddered at the thought of those judging crimson eyes casting judgment on the people here.
"There must be something we could do." Aladdin grunted, squeezing his staff tightly as the two approached the makeshift infirmary. Their faces brightened when they spotted Sphintus in the middle of the patients, and they quickened their pace to join him.
"Aladdin! Titus!" He welcomed them with a small smile despite the injuries all across his body, bandages covering a part of his face. Their Heliohaptian friend certainly looked worse for wear since last they met, but given the grave toll incurred on the injured, he was still fortunate to get out of the battle with only healable injuries and messed up clothes.
"Sphintus! I'm glad you're safe." Aladdin cheerfully greeted his friend, his smile faltering when he noticed the sadness etched on his face. "How are you holding up?" He asked.
"Could have been worse, all things considered," Sphintus responded dryly, gesturing to his wounded form. "I got stuck under the rubble after an explosion near the infirmary I was staying at. By the time I came to and got out of it, the others were already gone," he explained, gritting his teeth and holding back the tears he desperately wished to shed.
"Don't blame yourself, Sphintus," Titus consoled his peer, gripping his shoulder and meeting his defeated gaze. "There was nothing you could have done. Had you been with them, you would…" He trailed off, the insinuation clear as the destruction surrounding them.
Many more experienced magicians resisted the enemy covert unit, only to end up laying with the rest. A young student stood no chance.
"You think I don't know that?" Sphintus retorted harshly, throwing a heated glare in the direction of the faraway coast. "Had I woken up earlier, maybe I could've saved someone, anyone!" He sighed, his throat growing dry as he struggled to put his feelings to words. His friends weren't there to see the sprawled bodies of their instructors and peers when he finally pushed the last bit of rubble off of him, their faces locked in the horror they felt before their lives ended. It took him a while to get over what he witnessed, but the sight remained ingrained in his memory.
"We'll put a stop to this, Sphintus," Aladdin assured, shifting his gaze around the place in search of the chancellor. He could see Myers and some of the instructors were recovering, wincing when he spotted the purple-haired instructor's broken arm and burned midriff. "Where's the headmaster? We have to talk to him about this." He asked, anxious to talk with the elderly man before he resolved himself to a path they wouldn't be able to return from.
"He came by to visit the wounded. He even helped us with the worst cases," Sphintus informed, gesturing to the patients furthest away from the rubble before he crossed his arms. "He seemed disturbed, but he said he's going to the underground levels," he explained further.
"Thank you, Sphintus. We'll go find him." Aladdin nodded to Titus, and the two turned to leave.
"You will do no such thing." A voice stopped them, before a figure abruptly appeared in front of them. The three magicians yelped and looked up to the stoic Goetia, his presence making them freeze for a brief moment.
"Mister Magicians!" Marga cheerfully called them, grinning happily and gasping at the sight of the skies above. "It's the sky! It's so pretty!" She spoke, holding Goetia's hand tightly as she pointed at the clouds.
"What do you mean, Mister Goetia?" Aladdin inquired, smiling at the cheerful Marga.
"If you wish to cease the ongoing hostilities, you need to follow my instructions," Goetia declared, observing the three students with a cold stare. Although his proposal felt suspicious, the Magi sensed the truth held in his words. The mysterious man was capable and trustworthy, and more importantly he seemed to have a plan.
"What do you need us to do?"
"You two will escort Marga to the Uruk base," he stated, his words shocking the three students. "You will entrust Marga to them until I am done here. The Uruk environment is less contaminated," he noted, feeling Marga's grip tighten as she looked up at him.
"...OK." Aladdin agreed, shifting to Titus to find him more hesitant.
"What? You can't be serious, Aladdin!" Sphintus protested, grabbing his friend by his robes and flailing him around. "It's enemy territory. They'll kill you two!" He shouted at them, glaring daggers at the man for even suggesting such a reckless stunt.
"That will not happen," Goetia stated, his certainty leaving the Heliohapt mage stunned. "Gilgamesh will find killing you bothersome–he won't do it, and his subordinates will obey his will." He waved off Sphintus's concern with an explanation which left the young man even more aggrieved. "If you require further insurance, I will remind you his creator is there as well. She will safeguard them," Goetia added while pointing at Titus.
"Still, what makes you so certain this plan of yours will work?" Titus asked, crossing his arms as he pondered on what this strange magician had prepared. No matter what way you look at it, one man didn't have the means to end an entire conflict.
"Because we know what one side seeks to destroy, and the other hides still," Goetia answered, eyes narrowing as he looked at the ground. "Your thoughts do not matter. Either follow our instructions, or this exchange is annulled," he declared with finality, a dangerous sharpness lying beneath his calm face.
Aladdin and Titus shared a look, gauging each other's thoughts before they nodded. Goetia released his hand and silently urged Marga to Aladdin's side.
"You'll come back, right?" Marga asked, holding on to his cloak.
Goetia looked at the child intently before he nodded. "Without question. Your math classes are tomorrow," he assured her, the casual reminder of her lessons leaving the others stunned once again. The man didn't seem to hold the ongoing troubles with any regard, as if it was considered a chore he could simply scratch out along with the other daily tasks.
A strange man.
"Let's go, Marga," the two students said, reaching out to the little girl before the three of them flew out of the city.
Sphintus watched their figures until they left the city proper, turning to Goetia only to find him already gone. Dismissing the questions he had, the young magician returned to the infirmary, praying his friends could put an end to this madness. Otherwise, Magnostatt might become a grave for all its magic-wielding denizens.
A notion Matal Mogamett also pondered anxiously as he made his descent into the furnace. The chancellor remained lost in his thoughts ever since he saw the bodies of the magicians lined up after the cleanup, every covered corpse akin to a blade stabbing his heart. To suffer such a tragic waste of precious life at the hands of a goi King was bad enough, but to bear the shame of having fought and died to their fellow magicians only fueled his rage into a bellowing inferno.
He could not, would not, let such blasphemy and desecration of all they held dear go unpunished. No matter who stood with the insufferable ruler of Uruk–be it Reim or any other magicless imbecile–his judgment would not be forestalled any longer.
Even in death, their comrades still fight, for their Rukh, blackened by this plight, had joined the furnace. He would honor their will and usher in the might of their kingdom of magic.
"Cease your folly, magician." A voice broke him out of his musing, a singular figure blocking his path down to the furnace, as both of them floated in the middle of the Makbarah. "Forfeit this…banality, and we shall be lenient," he spoke, tattered cloak fluttering in the wind and revealing his singular arm.
"Why do you stand in my way, fellow magician?" Mogamett asked, his eyes narrowing when he failed to recognize the man from any of their faculties. "Were you also misguided by that petulant goi?" He inquired further, his gaze saddened and his staff glowing an ominous black. Those crimson eyes might feel different, but there's no mistaking the pressure spreading in the Rukh around him.
Just like King Gilgamesh.
"I care not for the machinations of the King of Heroes, but your plans place my charge's upbringing at risk," Goetia stated, eyes observing him with indifference, before he gazed down at the facility within the depths of this waste of life. "Should you persist, I will proceed to depose you," he threatened, shrugging off the instantaneous barrage of spells the headmaster fired upon him. Flames, water and lightning barreling towards him instantly shifted and flowed under his command, coalescing above his palm before dissolving into Rukh once more.
Mogamett watched the display with a frown. Redirecting spells and gathering them in such a quick and precise way was no simple feat even for an instructor, yet he never heard of such a talented practitioner in Uruk or Magnostatt. Someone of this caliber had to have been talked about at some point, one didn't achieve such finely tuned control over their magic from just theory or practice. It needed a fundamental mastery of one's understanding of oneself as well as years of constant training.
"Very well. Incapacitating you will suffice," Goetia concluded, his clothes flapping about as the area between the two was instantly engulfed in explosions. The entire district shook from the collision, Goetia's figure floating in the middle while the headmaster flickered from one position to another. He didn't need to have a visual on his target to tell his location.
The field of vision of a single pair of eyes was indeed limited, but fooling the other ones was a different matter entirely. They had a limited amount of time to clean up the mess this human and the King of Heroes caused; otherwise, it would incur unnecessary complications to Marga's planned activities. Their observations proved the fickle nature of and lack of patience from human children when left in an unfamiliar environment.
Frightening blood-red eyes narrowed at the obstacle standing in the way, their hostile scrutiny causing him to shiver.
Mogamett frowned as he blocked and redirected the wind blades launched at him, his countenance worsening as he saw the attacks dispelling once he evaded them. 'He's keeping his attacks from hurting the gois, all while fighting me,' he noted, keeping his newfound wariness hidden. His enemy had yet to use a borg, utilizing some form of strength magic to deflect any attacks he dished out.
"Saif Zawbaa." The headmaster commanded, wind blades encircling Goetia and cutting deep marks into everything it crossed. But it wouldn't be enough. "Romh al Arth." He continued, morphing the surrounding earth into spikes stretching to the floating man at breakneck speed.
Goetia took a moment to observe the spells, raising his hand at the incoming wind blades. "Quwaa." He intoned, before lightly pushing his palm forward. The impact preceded the ensing deafening bang as the gales slammed into the roof of the district. With a flick of his wrist, the air around Mogamett shimmered, and the earth spikes halted. "Barq al-Samaa," Goetia chanted, and a great rumble answered his call. Bolts of lightning, pure and white, shot out from his hand, seeking the headmaster with unerring precision.
Mogamett did not back down, never taking his eyes off his opponent. "Nahr al aman." He whispered, summoning a great barrier of water in front of the incoming attack. "Nar al-fana." The Headmaster countered swiftly, and from his hands erupted a stream of fire, twisting and turning like a living creature, hungry for its prey.
The flames met a wall of silence as Goetia raised his hand. "Sakann." He uttered, the flames dimming and settling into a bed of embers before him. Not a second later, he was beset by many flame arrows, their distance too short for an incantation. With a snort, Goetia snapped his fingers, the amplified sound and ensuing wind extinguishing them. Sensing another conjuration, Goetia raised his hand and caught the chain aimed for his neck. "Lahab." he whispered, and the chain disintegrated into a shower of sparks, the metal glowing red-hot before vanishing into ash. The former beast didn't spare the construct a glance, its form decaying into the void from whence it came.
He wasn't a foe Mogamett could afford to hold back against. 'I never thought I'd use this against one of our own,' he lamented, as the Rukh around them darkened and heralded depravity. Derangement magic was only used on prisoners, criminals and anyone who wouldn't be missed, but to have to use it on his fellow magician ate away at his heart. However, now was not the time to be swayed by emotion–their home was at stake. And so, he commanded the Black Rukh, the wave of darkness swallowing Goetia's figure and trapping him until nothing but a blackened husk remained.
Or so Mogamett believed, until the darkness shifted into a stunning purple, and then the headmaster saw them. Eyes, demonic and imposing, watched him with clear amusement.
"The depravity of humans is a world we know in depth, magician." Goetia's harsh voice resounded through the entire district as his figure emerged from the darkness, holding the dark remnants of Mogamett's spell in his grasp. "The difference between our understandings of worldly plight is worlds apart," he stated, crushing the spell within his grasp.
"Then you must know why I need to do this," Mogemett retorted, gritting his teeth and grooming his beard. "With your help, we can work together and push the invaders back! Why must you fight your fellow magicians? Why ignore their suffering?!" He questioned, tightening his grip on his staff when he noticed the fury burning in the eyes watching him.
"Do not speak to us of suffering, scum," Goetia snarled, the Rukh shifting violently between different colors until it settled on the same hue as the demonic apparitions surrounding them. Mogamett could see the outline of antlers forming from the Rukh gathering atop the enigmatic man's head, along with a broken… crown?
'What is that?' Mogamett wondered, his control over the Black Rukh overpowered by the man's strange influence. He frowned, analyzing the patterns and colors of the Rukh to decipher the source of his opponent's strength.
Goetia raised his hand, but whatever spell he prepared was cut off when the district began trembling. Shadows rose from the depths of the furnace, some flying past them while the others surrounded the two magicians. The residents of the underground began screaming as they were systematically hunted down, their haunting pleas and curses echoing within the district as the bodies piled up.
"How?!" Mogamett looked on at the Black Djinns encircling them, their spells and menacing grins bringing him pause. No one should've had access to the furnace's Djinn creation function; it was Magnostatt's ultimate weapon!
If their last resort was hijacked by someone else-!
"Troublesome," Goetia spoke, calmly staring down the Black Djinn firing a beam at him before he flicked at it. The beam was reflected, blowing off the Djinn's head, before it was redirected once more to the bottom of the Makbarah. The attack which should've destroyed the facility within the depths, didn't detonate as one would expect.
Both magicians sensed the magical energy being absorbed in its entirety, leaving nothing but silence as dozens of new Djinns flew back to encircle them. Staring at the creatures around him, Goetia scoffed and beckoned them. Dealing with the magician would have to wait, he has to deal with these familiars and isolate the gluttonous core harvesting the humans here before it grows too bloated. Numbers would not do his adversaries any good, for one simple fact the seventy-two were intent on demonstrating. No matter how weak they grew…
…Djinns would never be the demons' betters.
Uruk Camp:
Staring at their surroundings, Aladdin was still reeling from the fact the three of them got into Uruk's camp so easily. The two magicians were initially very worried about the reception they would get, given the friction they had with the Uruk forces and their king, expecting their presence to be met with a… less-than-warm welcome.
In a way, they were right. The soldiers kept their eyes on them as they passed by, their stares maintaining a strict watch over the two magicians. Discussions turned silent as they passed by, the men and women offering a respectful bow to their guide before narrowing their eyes at them.
Titus remained silent and composed despite the peculiar glances he got from the commanders they passed, frowning when he saw Leonidas and Tomoe bow to him. Aladdin was oblivious to this weird behavior, busy chattering endlessly with the one called Alibaba as the two caught up on each other's journeys. The young magician was beginning to believe their guide was intentionally taking them on a tour before meeting King Gilgamesh.
Speaking of their guide…
"You know Master Goetia, mister?" Marga asked, as she hung in the arms of the white-haired incubus smiling gently at her. She was happy to discover the pretty man who welcomed them into the camp knew her teacher. After all, Master Goetia was an upright and reliable person, so the people who knew him had to be similar, right?
"Yes, indeed. He is an acquaintance of mine," Merlin answered, offering the little girl a lily and choosing to not elaborate on the details of such history. "He used to be much bigger, believe it or not. Grumpier, too," he quipped, a knowing smirk on his face when the girl's eyes shone.
"Can you tell me more about him?" She requested earnestly, her hopeful gaze and gentle grip enough to melt any cold heart. The incubus was certain he would've buckled instantly had he been human.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, little one," Merlin politely refused, eyes briefly glancing to the side, before he whispered. "You can ask him after this is over. He doesn't like when people say unnecessary things about him," he explained, acutely aware of the dangers associated with angering the former King of the Demon Gods. As much as he wished to help the young girl, Goetia's anger was not a tribulation he would survive.
It was already bad enough the King of Heroes was glaring at him at every turn, adding Goetia as well would spell his doom.
Marga pouted, but didn't press the matter as she saw the figures standing at the shore. Goetia told her about the man they were heading towards, saying he was strong and wise, that she would be safe with him until he finishes the things he needed to do. The way he stared at them made her gulp, but the beautiful lady next to her felt very warm.
'Although acting respectfully towards him is preferred, do not hesitate to reject any demands you find uncomfortable. We will protect you without fail.'
Goetia's assurances relieved the knot in her throat, and she realized Merlin had set her down in front of the man. "M-My name is M-Marga. I will be in your care." Adhering to her etiquette lessons, Marga quickly bowed her head and greeted the golden King and his companions.
None spoke as the king observed the unassuming child, before he knelt down. "Raise your head," he commanded, gazing into her eyes silently. Though his piercing eyes made her worried, Marga managed to keep her gaze firm and steady. Watching her struggle, a tinge of a smirk appeared on his face, and he scoffed at her. "You're not half bad, for a mongrel," he spoke, turning to the woman next to him. "Your men shall guard her until this farce is finished," he instructed, ignoring the baffled look on her face and shifting his attention to Titus.
The magician tensed under the scrutiny, readying himself for any abrupt attack as the man took in his every feature. Titus turned to Scheherazade, hoping for an explanation, only to be met with a bashful look he never saw before. His mother was always composed and welcoming, but she seemed at a loss for words as she watched the King of Uruk take his hand and look at his clothes.
"Your body is deplorable; even the pipsqueak is better built than this," Gilgamesh noted harshly, squeezing his arm and appearing disappointed by the result. "Your clothing is humiliating to behold; it better fits a jester," he added, shamelessly feeling the quality fabric of Magnostatt with visible disgust and growing irritation. "And to make matters worse, your resolve is feeble," the King of Heroes concluded, piercing eyes seeing the hesitation hidden in Titus's defiant gaze, and judging it to be lacking.
Aladdin could see his friend visibly deflated with each barbed critique, all the while his fellow Magi sighed with narrowed eyes. Well, he couldn't deny the magicians' outfits were a bit weird compared to the other places he traveled. Titus never did join instructor Myers's training regiment, so he didn't hone his body as well as they did. 'He figured that out from just a casual glance,' he noted, keeping to his silence when Gilgamesh threw him a glare.
Titus yelped and resisted as he was hoisted easily by the scruff of his shirt, glaring daggers at the King of Heroes, now eye-to-eye. "What is it to you? My problems do not concern Uruk," he retorted, trying in futility to free himself from Gilgamesh's grip.
"They are Uruk's concern, boy." Gilgamesh answered, pointing at the nearby Schehrazade who remained strangely quiet as she smiled at them. "I can't have a child bearing my radiance act so pathetically," he clarified, much to the confusion of the newcomers and the bashful blush of the older Magi.
"What do you mean? I have no connection to you," Titus inquired, openly frowning at the arrogant man.
Gilgamesh snickered, pointing at Scheherazade. "She is your mother, is she not?" He demanded, placing the woman on the spotlight and making her feigned distraction known.
"Y-Yes, she is," Titus replied, unsure of where this question was going. He then took note of Lady Scheherazade's strange behavior as she averted her gaze awkwardly, chuckling nervously when he squinted at her. Then, a frightening thought came to him–a negligible possibility he wouldn't have ever dreamt possible any other day and would have just scoffed at. "You can't seriously mean…?" He trailed off when he caught Mu and the others giving him teasing grins, suddenly feeling increasingly smaller under the weight of the King's gaze.
"I see your wits are at least a redeemable quality." Gilgamesh snorted, a predatory glint shining in his eyes. "Your mother is now my wife, and so you will be granted the priceless privilege of my undivided attention as your sire." His words rung like the toll of a distant bell, solemnly heralding death for the young homunculus.
"...is t-this true, L-Lady Schehrazade?" Titus pleaded to his mother, his hopeful eyes widening when she walked up to him with a soft smile. Gently, she brushed his hair and patted his head, as if preparing him for her response.
The Magi cleared her throat, giving her son a sympathetic smile before she gave her answer. "Yes, Titus. It is all true." She affirmed his worst suspicion, her words shattering his hope as the King of Heroes released his hold. She pulled her child into a soft hug, letting the weight of the news settle in. "You are the Prince of Uruk now, Titus," she told him, offering an encouraging nod as the attention returned to Gilgamesh.
"You should rejoice. None other than you have been granted this blessing," Gilgamesh declared haughtily with a proud smirk, wholly unsympathetic to the young man's emotional distress as he laughed. "We will have much to do to fix your worst traits after this nuisance is dealt with."
"Does this mean Reim is also joining the war?" Aladdin chimed in, worriedly glancing between the people around him. With a strong ally in the Reim Empire, Uruk's advantages grew even more prominent. If both powers assaulted the weakened Magnostatt now, the Kingdom of Magic wouldn't be able to resist their combined might.
"Rather than continuing this war, it is our goal to negotiate with Chancellor Mogamet and establish an agreement to end the ongoing conflict," Scheherazade explained, reassuring the worried young Magi as she patted Titus's shoulder. She was well aware of the stubbornness the magicians held for their nation, and she was also certain Gilgamesh was equally aware of such.
Given the current state of both sides, this conflict could only end with either an agreement between both parties to end hostilities… or the complete devastation of Magnostatt. For all his pride, Gilgamesh did not seem a fragile man who would go to such lengths for pure bloodthirst and ego, and so Scheherazade was left pondering on what the magicians were hiding which necessitated such an approach.
They were going to find out in any case, one way or another. She only hoped no further unnecessary losses would occur as a result. The benefits for both Reim and Uruk would only grow by avoiding the potential decimation of Magnostatt.
However, fate was never so merciful.
Without warning, Gilgamesh snapped in the direction of the city, a look of fury overcoming his relaxed features. "It appears negotiations will not be held." He snarled, his tablets appearing in his grasp, before he fired a flare to the sky.
"What's going on?!" Alibaba questioned, standing in front of Aladdin protectively, his dagger glowing as he readied his Djinn Equip. His confusion and apprehension were shared by the others around them, the camp rushing to prepare for battle as per their King's signal.
"It appears Magnostatt have unleashed their trump card," Merlin answered, purple eyes glinting menacingly as he glimpsed at the faraway city state. "No, rather, it appears our depraved acquaintances have taken control of it," he clarified, pointing to the dark figures flying towards the Uruk camp. His words caught Aladdin's attention, while Scheherazade's eyes narrowed as she took a closer look at the monsters flying over the Uruk forces' base.
"Such filthy eyesores." Gilgamesh said, glaring at the smiling Black Djinns in disgust. "Ningal, clear this filth," he ordered, observing the incoming beams with clear contempt. Amidst the crowd of concerned and anxious people, the King stood without moving a muscle.
"Great spirit of Devotion and Sacrifice, obey my command," Ningal's solemn voice echoed within the encampment, an ominous heat spreading over the area as the ground under her feet bubbled and turned into blackened remains. "Bring forth the sun's grace, Orobas!" She declared, before her figure was submerged in torrential waves of Magoi.
The bombardment would not reach him, nor Uruk's camp…
…for his most devoted follower took to the battlefield.
The beams rained on the encampment like falling comets, the devastating energy held within intent on destroying the entirety of their forces. However, none of the attacks reached their target, exploding just a short distance away from the Dark Djinns. A figure wreathed in flames stood between the monstrosities and the camp underneath, golden eyes peering from the searing flames at the enemies above.
The sensitive Aladdin realized the magoi protecting the encampment was… in the form of waves? He'd seen plenty of defensive barrier techniques–the mother he never knew specialized in this very thing, after all–but never one so… fluid.
A large hand encircled the stoic woman, before squeezing shut. The Djinn looked at its enclosed fist, before its form began to shimmer and soften. The once-solid creature resembled a molten sculpture, its edges blurred by the intense heat radiating from Ningal's body. The Djinn's eyes widened, and it struggled to break free, but the heat had already seeped into its core, burning its essence to ashes.
As the Djinn writhed, chaotic golden rays of sunlight danced around Ningal's fingers, weaving intricate patterns in the air before the creature's hands disappeared. The Djinn's struggles grew feeble, before evaporating in the next instant. The surrounding sea churned, steam rising in billowing clouds, and the vaporized remnants of the other Djinns condensed into droplets, falling like liquid stardust around Ningal.
Ningal's eyes opened ever so slowly, blinding coronas shining from behind her dark pupils, mirroring ominous eclipses heralding destruction to entire nations. By the time she gazed at the horizons, the final Djinn collapsed into a dust cloud unceremoniously.
Ningal stepped back, her red robes billowing in the residual heat. The sea settled, the vapor dissipated as the surroundings became clear again. Any traces of the enemies vanished beneath the invisible sun's brilliance, leaving behind only a faint warmth in the air. Ningal's gaze lingered on Magnostatt where more enemies were coming, before she charged ahead.
"She completely disintegrated them…" Alibaba trailed off, observing the flying lady with intrigue. As a fellow user of a fire Djinn, the prince was curious about the abilities she had.
"Stop gawking at my assistant, mongrel," Gilgamesh chidded, opening a large portal from which he extracted Vimana. Stepping on board, he sat on the throne as the others joined him. "Your entourage will stay here with the girl," he commanded just as Mu was about to join them, switching his attention to Aladdin and Alibaba. "You two will head past the city and bring me the Djinn users of Kou. Their vanguard is not far," Gilgamesh added, crossing his guard and leaning his head on his fist.
The two nodded, watching as the aircraft took off and flew to the Magnostatt. They managed to catch up to Ningal easily, the King Vessel keeping her focus on the Black Djinns constantly emerging from underground. Wasting no time, the duo flew through the air, chasing after some of the monsters heading for the Kou forces.
"You shall gather the citizens and teleport them away from the city," Gilgamesh instructed his new queen. The two shared a look before she nodded, disappearing instantaneously from aboard the ship. Left alone with Titus, the King of Heroes beckoned him to come closer.
Titus slowly approached, worriedly wondering what task the golden king had for him. "What should I do?" He asked, standing in front of his new father. Thinking about that word made him feel weird, a foreign concept to the homunculus who only ever knew Lady Scheherazade as a parent–nevermind the fact this king had brought such desolation upon the home of magicians.
"You are to remain by my side, naturally," Gilgamesh answered, his smug grin rubbing Titus in all the wrong ways. Explosions rang around them as the Djinn warrior fought back the onslaught of black monstrosities single-handedly. "Although I have a measure of your capabilities, you remain wholly ignorant of mine. We shall be seeing each other consistently from this day forth, so this is a perfect opportunity to correct your failing and know more about my magnificent self," he elaborated with a flourish of his hand, golden portals opening from every direction and bombaring the djinns endlessly.
Titus watched the relentless assault, analyzing the different spells flung at any emerging monster with eerie precision. Golden light encompassed the darkness, arrogantly flaunting its power amidst sparks of Humanity's greatest works. The people stood still as the shower of explosions overwhelmed the horde, blasting into the building at the very heart of the Kingdom of Magic and reducing it to smithereens before the assault ceased.
Titus could feel the sweat trickling on his cheek, looking at the man behind it all sitting nonchalantly on his throne. He looked bored, clicking his teeth at how simple the subjugation ended up being. To think a man who was neither a Magi or a Metal Vessel user held such power unsettled him, even more so when he was clearly holding back.
"Do not lose focus," Gilgamesh chided him, never taking his eyes off the land below them. The King of Heroes frowned, gazing into the depths below Magnostatt before he pulled them away from the central district. "It's coming," the King of Heroes warned, his words followed by the entire central building falling apart as a beam of light shot into the skies. Black tendrils slowly wiggled and poked out of the clouds, the alien entity descending upon the land, filling the populace with dread as it approached closer and closer with each passing moment.
Yet, where most began to despair and drown in fear, others welcomed the foreign entity. Two priests flew above Magnostatt, hidden under the cover of their concealment spells, and watching the ensuing spectacle with joy. How could they not, when the Father appeared before them after the hardships they endured?
"Well, well," one of them spoke, looking down at the underground district from the large hole. Observing the abundant Black Rukh within the sector, he frowned under the veil when he found survivors amid the blackened remains of those deep within. "I see not all of the citizens were properly absorbed by the medium. As expected of you, Lady Gyokouen, those preparations were necessary," he added with a thoughtful hum.
Following Uruk's declaration, Al-Thamen spared no expense in expediting the growth of the furnace by accelerating the fall of many within the underground district, as well as planting a proxy to unleash the medium after harvesting all the Black Rukh born from the clash between Uruk and Magnostatt. Through the countless resources poured into the vessel from the start of this conflict, they were able to guarantee the medium would be stable for deployment even if Uruk was planning something.
Even now, they could feel the medium taking its shape as it struggled against the rules of this world. With its core connected to Gyokouen, its adaptation was marvelous and rapid. The Djinn warriors of this era wouldn't be able to defeat it.
"Now, all that's left was to witness fa-" The second priest agreed with his comrade, but trailed off when he saw a giant, gray humanoid figure blasted into the skies from the underground.
Everyone observed the harrowing colossus as it crashed against the central district's walls, its haggard, skinny form disgusting to look at. The two priests were shocked to see the medium flung away from the depths, watching as a single man flew out after it.
Who was-
"Well, now." Merlin's cheerful voice shook the priests from their distraction, and the two men realized they were looking away from Magnostatt now. "I'm afraid this performance is not for the faint of heart, so unruly spectators such as yourselves are not allowed." The Magus of Flowers wagged his fingers at them, his smile proving a disturbing match for the bloodied sword he held. Nonchalantly, he flicked the veiled agents' foreheads and watched as their heads slid off their necks. With those watchers eliminated, the Magus turned his attention to the more pressing threat, disappearing in a flurry of petals before appearing above the medium.
Goetia stood on its right, malevolent eyes burning with anger as he channeled more energy above his palm. He expected the spell he fired at it would hinder it, but he couldn't see any visible damage on its body. 'It managed to devour the curses as well; pesky creature.' The former Beast snorted, keenly searching for the medium's every strength and weakness, as the stalwart fortress walls began to crumble and decay at its touch.
The medium attempted to get up, only for a bombardment of spells to push it back down. Vimana shone amidst the chaos, the golden radiance of the Gate of Babylon
remaining as brilliant as ever despite the circumstances. Gilgamesh stood up from his throne and stepped to the edge of the aircraft, with Ningal and Titus right behind him. Looking between the other two casters before gazing at the undamaged medium, his eyes narrowed. "Ningal, brat, you are to stand back until further orders," the King of Heroes declared, more portals opening around him as he cast Goetia a menacing side glance. "Your judgment shall come after disposing of this pest in my new garden, beast."
"Such matters are irrelevant to us." Goetia met the threat with indifference, maintaining stoicity. He would deal with this unwanted variable, and proceed with his own plans as estimated. Dealing with King Gilgamesh's ego would only delay their progress and make unnecessary hassles for more important tasks. "Don't get in the way," he warned in return, the eyes around him shifting between the boastful, the mocking and the hateful.
"Now, now." Merlin chuckled and attempted to interject. "I'm sure we can reach a conclusion for this later, wise kings." He tried to appease the two, fearing they might actually turn to blows before eliminating the medium.
"Be silent, Incubus!" / "Silence, Merlin!"
The two didn't share his worries, their combined glares and furious rebuke convincing the Magus of Flowers maybe leaving them to fight it out might be better, despite the obvious world-ending threat just in front of them. Thankfully, his words must have worked at least to some degree, as the three of them finally focused their attention on their common enemy.
The grand battle… had begun.
Glossary:
Hal: Rukh Reversal
Signature spell created by Dias, the Headmaster of Uruk's magic institute. Through calculative analysis, one is able to grasp the formulas used for spells, and through rapid reverse engineering, he can dispel spells up to a certain complexity.
Thank you for reading the chapter! I hope you enjoyed it.
If you want to stay up to date with the latest updates and news about the stories, or just want to hang out together, be sure to join my Discord Server: discord. gg /AP6xKzZXgU
Have a nice day and stay safe, Zasshu!
Next update is still undecided as I will be working on another Honkai Star Rail one-shot with LightEveningDawn again for the foreseeable future.