《Mark of Time: A LitRPG Timeloop》10 — Whispers of War

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Irwys SIlveran was in a bad mood. A frequent occurrence, ever since he’d met the new Mark. The [Royal Knight] walked through the guild pathways, keeping his frown in check as he passed by the dozens of adventurers that crowded every inch of the guild in recent days. He’d failed to anticipate just how many people would rush to the city with the barest sniff of the new dungeon branch.

“You should know how adventurers are by now, Irwys. The chance of being the one to reach the depths of a new branch are enticing enough to shake the entire continent. And with what’s inside the dungeon, I can’t say I’m not tempted either.”

Irwys continued to walk without missing a step as the prince spoke to his mind. Fate magic had multiple applications, including long distance communication that would normally only be associated with mind mages, and Prince Laiken was one of the strongest Fate practitioners he had ever seen.

“Your highness, perhaps it would be best to delay such talks till a more suitable chamber can be located? The guild lacks proficiency in divinations, but they aren’t incompetent and these are not topics to be discussed so freely,” Irwys replied smoothly, taking a left through the corridors. He didn’t find the many twists and turns of the building appealing.

“Oh? You think they can breach through my defenses? I’m surprised you think so highly of them. And even if they overhear what I have to say, what are they going to do? Stand the crown prince of Zandria on trial for talking to his [Royal Knight]? Who dares! I’ll have their heads!”

Irwys stiffened for the barest of moments at the words. He resumed his swift gait immediately, ignoring the harpy donning mage robes walking past him, giving him the side eye. He wasn’t used to seeing so many other species around within a single city. Zandria rarely had anyone besides humans, trolls, and griffins, and only one of the three could talk.

“Please don’t fool around Your Highness. The council is gathering,” Irwys sent back, adjusting the sword at his waist as he reached the door of the council room.

“Fates, you’re so stiff Irwys. Have I told you that? I think I’ve told you that. You really need to loosen up one of these days.”

Irwys pushed against the door, entering as he ignored Prince Laiken’s antics. Inside the chamber were the three guild heads. Irwys recognized them from the few meetings they’d had discussing the Marks and the pact, yet this marked the first time he’d seen all three together. He briefly glanced at the woman seated nearby wearing a high-cut dress from the eastern kingdoms outside the continent of Zweiril. A rare fabric called Poison-silk. Irwys remembered her as Valencia, the crafting guild’s head.

The guild heads turned to regard him briefly, greeting him with a light nod, before they continued to pour over a map of the Allied territories, marking the movements of the tribes.

Irwys regarded each in turn, spotting the nearby seated mark of Valor alongside the [Head Priest] of the church of Sera. He nodded his head as his eyes met each, quietly noting the absence of the Mark of Life.

“I would be really surprised if the church let the Mark of Life appear for something as trivial as the invasion of a city. With her role and her class I still find it surprising that we got her to agree to our pact.”

“Knight Irwys? Please,” one of the guild heads said, gesturing for him to take a seat. Irwys followed the old and portly Mage’s instruction, taking a seat.

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When he had first arrived at Lienmont, he’d expected more ferocity from the man dubbed the False Archmage. Instead, the [Mage] looked like the spitting image of a kind uncle with his unshaven beard, clean bald head, and soft wrinkles curled around his eyes.

“Not great to judge a book by its cover. Unless you’re me. Then you can. And, regardless of how the Magus Peiross may appear to be, that man is still one of the top 10 strongest [Mages] on Zweiril. Well, at least among the ones we know are alive anyway.”

Irwys adjusted his opinion of the man.

“Has the Prince found anything of note on the demons?” Guild head Zaress asked, as a pair of bright blue eyes turned his way. Where Magus Peiross was a soft and kind figure, guild head Zaress was a Wyvern turned man.

“Yes! I’m so glad you asked! I’m pretty sure there’s at least a dozen near the outer ranges of the city itself, and a few more inside the dungeon, but hey, can’t tell you that. For all I know they might be listening to this-”

Irwys cut the communication thread off.

“There have been no notable movements amongst the demons so far on any of the Alliance borders. There have been reports of shadow and dark elemental spirits and wraiths, yet no direct relation to the invasion can be found. There have been several reports of potential demon sightings, but no one has managed to verify one,” Irwys sent back. Valencia clicked her tongue.

“Frustrating opponents. Either the demons have the strongest obscurification spells and wards I’ve seen yet, or someone is interfering with the reports. I’m not sure which I find harder to believe,” Valencia said, crossing her legs. Irwys briefly caught a glimpse of the needles weaved within the hem of the women’s dress.

“She is the youngest guild head to take her position throughout all the guilds within the alliance in the last seven decades or so. From what I recall her class was [Minstrel of Threads]. Still under level 50, but not by much. Weaving steel threads of poison-silk sounds just about right for someone like her.”

Irwys’ eyebrows twitched as the Prince nonchalantly spoke to his mind, re-establishing their connection single-handedly.

“Oh don’t praise me too much. It wasn’t too tough to force a one-way thread, our fates are just that intertwined my dear [Knight].”

“I’ve sent scouts to track the Ostiri,” Guildhead Zaress said, scanning the map. “There are caravans of traders moving towards Lienmont as usual. I don’t see any army that might be heading here. The amount of land they have to cover to even reach the city makes me wonder if the girl was lying.”

“Irwys. Relay my words. This is important.”

Irwys was surprised by the sudden change in prince Laiken’s tone, but smoothly stood up and followed his instructions.

“Prince Laiken would like to speak,” Irwys said. Threads of fate snapped into place, and Prince Laiken spoke, now from the mouth of his knight.

“She isn’t. The Ostiri curse is mutating, reaching outside the Ostiri desert after centuries. I’ve gotten reports of unborn children having mutated limbs, and odd features at birth. The number of stillbirths in the last three to four months has been the highest since the Great Fell. And this isn’t limited just to the Ostiri. Even the lizardfolk to the southwest have been affected,” Irwys paused as the Prince stopped speaking. The guild heads frowned.

“May Sera’s grace guide us, why would the curse target children?” the high priest spoke up, turning to look at Irwys.

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“It’s death magic,” Laiken said, through Irwys. “Or something worse. Unborn lives are the most susceptible to these things, and they tend to form the first of the casualties. If it continues… it may be worse than the Great Fell.”

“That can’t be. Are you truly saying that this event is stronger than the Tier-11 curse of an Archmage?”

Guildhead Zaress raised his hand, interjecting. “While I’m aware that it is highly unfortunate to have such a thing happening, this at best serves to give hints towards why the Ostiri may have moved at all, and not on how to prevent them, or prepare for a war against them.”

“There is more,” Irwys continued as the prince spoke up again. “Not only has the curse spread outwards from the desert, the curse itself has worsened. Beasts are mutating at a far faster rate than ever near the desert. The Ostiri are facing a plague that is eating at them from the inside. Children are dying before birth. The inhuman mutations on the Ostiri themselves are spreading faster and faster, and turning monsters into abominations. Are you still failing to see what I wish to say, guild head?” Laiken spoke, from Irwy’s mouth, as the knight’s eyes shone a misty silver.

“The curse of the Ostiri has been confined to its desert cage for centuries now. But if it’s waking up, we have a lot more to worry about than just the displaced and dying tribe’s invasion. They might be rising from their graves,” prince Laiken spoke, as the threads of fate receded from Irwys, the glow within his eyes dying.

The chamber sat in silence at his words.

“Summon the war council and start the communication array,” Guildhead Zaress spoke at last. Valencia’s head snapped towards the man.

“Are we really—”

“There is no time,” the guild head growled, cutting her off. “A war is coming. A war we have to fight one way or another. The meeting was happening today one way or another. All I've done is spare us the days of debate and arguments before they began to prepare for war. Days we cannot afford now.” Zaress rose from his chair.

“Prepare the meeting chamber and get the girl. We'll need her to testify,” the guildhead said. Viel moved out to follow the orders.

Zaress stood silently, lightning crackling around his hair as a heavy aura set upon the room. The mana shivered, crackling like thunder clouds under the man’s weight and Irwys felt the weight the guild head’s name bore. The weight of the Storm Blight.

With a heavy sigh, the guild head folded the map as he turned to stare at Irwys with his bright blue eyes. “I know it is foolish. And yet, against all odds and proof, I hope that you and the girl are wrong,” Zaress said, walking out.

Irwys stood silently, watching the guild head’s back. A moment later, his prince whispered.

“Me too, Zaress. Me too.”

***

Jennifer stepped into the guild, walking through the entrance section filled with adventurers of all ranks. Just two weeks ago, she’d felt extremely out of place, walking among so many adventures laden with a multitude of weapons. Now the thought barely crossed her mind as she stepped past the reception desk and headed towards her training chambers.

She summoned a light ball above her palm, floating it without much thought. A little shard of glass accompanied it, flying in circles around her palm. Alongside practicing her glass spell, she’d continued to work on the light shaping exercise. It had been a painful and frustrating endeavor with constant failure so far, but for some reason Jennifer had found herself unable to quit. At least I can summon around half a dozen light balls now without thinking. Interesting how that carries to my ability to summon glass shards too.

Today was supposed to be her rest day so that she could recover naturally without potions but Nathaniel called her all of a sudden. The past two weeks of training with Viel had left her battered both physically and mentally despite the many potions she’d been fed.

Gently, Jennifer rubbed her abdomen, feeling the tight muscles that had started to show some definition. She’d never been too thin or skinny, but she hadn’t had muscle before this point. It still felt a bit odd to see such a massive difference in just two weeks of training, but she couldn’t deny the results. She felt like a different person, even to herself.

I wonder what Rumina will think when she sees me easily casting Tier 2 spells. Or when she sees me waving a sword around and actually knowing how to use it for once.

Her lips curved up as she imagined Rumina’s expression, but the thought didn’t last. It had been almost two weeks since she’d first joined the guild, and Jennifer hadn’t spotted Rumina anywhere in those two weeks. She wondered if her friend hadn’t taken everything with the same cheer she always used to.

Maybe I’m too nonchalant about everything. I’d just told everyone of an oncoming invasion and then hoped they would believe me without any further explanation. I didn’t even tell Rumina the whole truth.

Guilt creeped into her heart. She knew she was avoiding the conversation with her parents. She didn’t want to tell them that she hadn’t been there when the invasion happened. That she didn’t even know if they had survived or not.

I should probably talk to them. Dad, Rumina, all of them.

The thought still intimidated her. She’d broken down in front of her master, and she was glad she had. Yet, a part of her still wished to simply keep things the way they were. To pretend as if the invasion she warned everyone about wasn’t real. To deny that she’d ever truly died. She'd been having nightmares, and while she could only vaguely remember them, in almost all of them, she had watched the sand swallow the burning city whole. Watching, as everyone she loved, was reduced to dust.

With grim thoughts, Jennifer headed towards the chamber Nathaniel asked her to come to. She hoped there was some new magic theory waiting for her. It’d help keep her mind off the darker thoughts that plagued her silence. She walked up to the room and opened the door.

A woman sat inside the room. Jennifer froze upon noticing who it was.

Anghul lounged with her legs up on the table and a bored look on her face. She held a half-eaten apple as her pitch black eyes turned towards Jennifer.

Jennifer wondered if she was in the wrong place.

“Stop gawking like an idiot and sit already,” Anghul spat, munching on her apple. Her eyes remained fixated on her.

She closed the door behind her and took a seat nearby. She hadn’t interacted much with Anghul during her time in the guild, and she wished to keep it that way. At least the woman hadn’t gone out of her way to bother Jenn.

The seconds passed painfully slowly as Jennifer sat in awkward silence. Anghul continued to eat her apples, and after the fifth one, she was starting to think the archer had some problems.

Within a few minutes, her patience began to thin. She would’ve been fine all by herself, but seated next to the archer with her aura nudging her every so often, it was difficult to sit silently.

“When’s Nathaniel going to come?” she spoke up, turning towards Anghul.

“Don’t know. He’s managing the link arrays and some depth damned mage things, whatever they use to gather the council in a hurry. Now stop flapping your lips and leave me some silence,” Anghul replied, taking another bite from her apple.

“You could’ve said that nicer,” she said, clenching her fist. She was growing annoyed at the woman’s constant antagonism.

The archer turned towards her. "Oh? Speaking up now are we?" Anghul said, uncrossing her legs.

“Yes, because I was content to just let you be, but now I have to sit here and listen to all your insults. I don't get what your deal is. Ever since the start you've been antagonizing me, and even my Master. Sera, I don’t get it. What’s your deal?”

The archer stared at Jennifer, as the apple in her hand vanished with a flicker of mana. Two pits of black eyes turned towards Jennifer and suddenly the room began to seem a lot smaller.

"You want to know what my deal is?” the woman asked. “My deal is the fact that you are weak. We need allies not children to babysit within the depths. You brought the call of a war. Do you know what this means?" Anghul spoke as her aura flared. “I will head out and kill my own tribe. I will tear through my very own people, because of this war that has come upon our heads. Because of the war that you brought to us,” Anghul spat as Jennifer felt the room darken for a moment as wisps of black rose from the archer's eyes.

Jennifer stared at the archer, failing to gather her words. “The war… is not my fault. I did not ask anyone to do this. I… hate it too. But I’m sorry to hear-”

“Don’t say you are sorry,” Anghul growled. Jennifer felt her hair rise on her arms.

“Do you know what you are sorry for? Do you understand it? My parents had sold me, thrown me to the [Slavers], and even they had no use for a burden. I was blind, motherless, and a cursed child. I was dead weight, and I lived each moment under that weight. Do you know what happens to the children whose curse leaves them disabled? Their parents slit their throats to spare them the suffering their lives would be. But mine lacked the spine to do so, and I paid the price,” Anghul scoffed.

“In a way, I’m thankful that they were such cowards. Because of them I got to prove my worth. Earn my class and gain eyes even harpies would envy. I fought, and fought and fought each step of the way to be free of that dreaded place. And it resulted in what? This? Seething sands," Anghul cursed.

Jennifer stared silently, a lump rising in her throat. She’d heard stories of the nature of the Ostiri curse and how harsh the deserts were to the people within but she couldn't have imagined it was this harsh.

“You are right. I don’t understand,” Jennifer said, clenching her fist. She looked up, and met Anghul’s eyes. “But the war is not my fault.”

The archer turned towards Jennifer, her frown setting deeper on her face. The woman turned away with a click of her tongue as her aura receded. “I know,” Anghul said in a quiet voice. The archer turned to face Jennifer, her brows set in a frown.

“We need allies, more so than ever now,” Anghul said, her pitch black eyes meeting Jennifer’s. “But all we got is you,” Anghul said, as the room descended into heavy silence.

Jennifer remained seated, her chest rumbling in turmoil. I did not ask for this. I did not ask for any of this. The Mark, this war. I should be in the academy, learning Enchanting, trying to grow so that I could heal my dad. Why am I here?

She found no answer.

“Hey! Sorry it took so long! Oh hey Jenn, you’re here already. Great, let’s head out then, and Anghu-” Nathaniel paused, looking at the archer. His gaze returned to Jennifer who looked down at her hands, feeling an odd sense of guilt.

Anghul got up from her seat, brushing past Nathaniel as she headed out. “I’ll be there,” the archer said on her way out.

Nathaniel turned back to look at Jennifer, his face stuck between a wince and an awkward smile. “I’m so sorry about Anghul-”

“No,” Jennifer interrupted. “It’s alright,” Jennifer replied, as she got up from her seat. “Are we beginning training now?”

“Ah, actually, no. Do you know about the council coming here?” Nathaniel asked.

“I heard Anghul mention it. Council of who?” Jenn asked.

Nathaniel winced. “Guess I forgot to mention. There’s been a change of plans. The council is… the council of the Alliance. The war council is gathering, Jennifer, and you have to appear in front of them.”

A few moments passed in stunned silence, before Jennifer’s mind finally caught up to Nathaniel's words. If her heart could’ve leapt out of her chest, it probably would’ve. With a deep breath, and the calmest voice she could muster, she spoke up.

“I’m appearing in front of who?!”

***

It had taken a while for Jennifer to calm down, and a while more for her to accept what she’d heard as reality as Nathaniel escorted her to the meeting chamber. She recalled her father mentioning the time he’d begun working in the mage guild all those years ago, and had been greeted by one of the guild heads. He’d laughingly mentioned how the man was likely going to be the most important figure he’d ever meet in his life.

She eyed the same man standing within the chamber, accompanied by the other two guild heads on both sides. A [Priest] stood nearby as well, alongside Irwys, Viel and Anghul. Jenn wondered what her father would think, if he was here.

Nathaniel said, his voice echoing in Jennifer’s head.

Jennifer turned around in surprise, her eyes wide. She glanced around the room once, before turning to Nathaniel. “Telepathy?” she whispered.

the mage said with a wink, patting her shoulder.

Jennifer realized Nat’s attempt at distracting her, and she had to admit its success. Her mind flooded with potential ideas and utilization of mind magic or how she would even learn such a complex and rare spell.

If that even was a spell. I didn’t sense any mana at all.

Jennifer thought she was quite good at magic. She couldn’t compare to noble bloodlines gifted with secrets and resources from childhood but she was still quite proud of her own abilities despite not having any of the resources. Yet, her worldview had flipped entirely the more time she spent with Nathaniel. The ease and perfection with which he executed his magic baffled her. It made sense, seeing how he was a Gold Plate and had years of experience over her, yet that did nothing to ease her burning desire to catch up to him.

Ten years. I may not have that amount of talent, and I may not have his resources. But I have time. I can do this. Also prevent the invasion while I’m at it.

Jennifer tried not to fixate on her magic. She never knew which death would spell the end of her, but the thought had refused to leave her mind. Taking a breath, she let the idea go for the moment. It would do her no good to be so competitive; there were other matters that demanded her attention right now.

Feeling a bit more calm after a couple of breaths, Jennifer looked around the chamber. It was a simple hall, carved in the same white stone as the rest of the guild, but Jennifer could sense the layers of mana that ran through the walls. She’d passed through some heavy wards on her way.

“Set up the communication array, Nathaniel,” Zaress said before turning around. “If everyone is here then close the doors. The alliance will be trying to establish a connection soon. Help him if you would, Peiross. I’d rather no delays happen.”

Nathaniel nodded, patting her shoulder one last time as he walked ahead. Jennifer spotted the Mage guild’s head, Peiross Varlos, looking in her direction for a moment. The mage gave her a light smile and a nod before turning away to prepare the spell.

Her nerves returned as she looked around. Her eyes eventually settled on Zaress, the central guild head and the renowned adventurer, Storm Blight. She vaguely recalled seeing him flying through the burning city on the night of the invasion.

“Mark of Time, it is a pleasure to meet you,” a voice interrupted her thoughts, almost making Jennifer jump. She turned to see a kind looking man standing next to her, wearing robes of white with golden threads running along the hem. She recognised the man as the [High Priest] of Sera’s church.

“By Sera’s grace, the pleasure is all mine, [High Priest],” Jennifer replied, trying her best to imitate the courtesy her mother had taught her, telling her it’d be of use when she would one day work amidst nobles as a renowned Enchanter. Jennifer was almost certain she’d messed it up.

“May Sera guide you. Difficult times are arriving. I must admit: I never thought I would see the face of a young girl to be the one carrying the heavy burden of this news,” the priest said.

Jennifer stared silently at the man, unsure of what to say. She eyed the priest, nodding silently as a response.

“Is there something you wish to ask?” the priest asked. Jennifer realized she’d been staring. She almost shook her head as her default for any awkward situation but managed to stop herself. Shuffling her feet awkwardly she asked. “I just… wasn’t sure why you would be present in this council. I believed the church didn’t get involved with politics, especially wars.”

The priest smiled calmly before turning away towards the other guild heads. “As you should know, this isn’t any ordinary war. The gods are involved and thus, so is the church,” The priest turned to look at Jennifer. “I come here as a representative of Selina, the Mark of Life.”

Jennifer’s eyes widened. The [Saint] is the Mark of Life?

The priest turned back towards Jennifer. “The church has stayed its hand from war and the workings of kingdoms, only so far as the threat didn’t threaten the existence of the Alliance itself.”

“The demons are that big of a threat?” Jennifer asked, surprised. An invasion on Lienmont made sense, but to topple the Alliance was a notion that Jennifer couldn’t even begin to fathom. It would spell the end of civilization as they knew it.

“I fear that the demons are only a catalyst, and that there are far worse things that are starting to rise from their slumber,” the [High Priest] said, turning towards Jennifer. “There is another purpose that has brought me here. It was meeting you, Mark of Time.”

“Me?” Jenifer asked, and the priest nodded.

“I carry a message from the [Saint],” the [High Priest] said. Jennifer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mark of Time. When the time arrives for you to seek the truth, to seek into the past, search for the dragon’s Mark,” the [High Priest] said, giving her a last smile as he walked away.

Jennifer stared at the priest’s back in confusion. When… I seek the truth? What does that mean?

She didn’t get the chance to mull over the man’s words. A pulse of mana traveled through the chamber. The doors behind Jennifer shut themselves. Runes of blue ran across the floor and up the walls, covering the chamber in magic.

[Enhanced Mana Sense] returned a mesh of mana threads and matrices lay around her in all directions. Jennifer found it impossible to track the spell as intricate threads and links of mana began to connect together.

Circles of light manifested on the floor, at the center of the chamber, as some of the members up ahead stepped back, watching the magic work. Seven circles lit up on the floor, arranged in a circular array as runes swirled around them. Like pools of water rising from the ground, wispy figures flickered within the arena. She watched as the members of the council appeared.

Zaress stood in front of the circles, his graying hair tinged blue from the light of the spell. The bright light of the spell soon faded, the mana settling down, leaving the wispy figures standing within their respective circles.

Jennifer quickly glanced at the various members standing. There were members from the Nests, the Elven tribes, the Verhiz lizardfolk swamps, a representative from the Lehorian Empire, a dwarf woman, who Jennifer could only recognize the gender of due to her familiarity with her Master. She took in a sharp breath, noting a dryad that stood silently next to the elf. She’d never seen a dryad before; their people were rarely ever found outside of the Elder Woods.

Jennifer’s eyes lingered for a moment upon the dryad before moving to the last person standing. The prince of Zandria.

The Prince stood straight, his light gold hair and crimson red eyes glancing across the room as the man wore a pleased smile on his face. Jennifer’s eyes shifted towards the silver Mark on his forehead, like a lotus with three petals.

A sudden shift had Jennifer see silver threads floating through the air, the presence of a Mark brushing against her. She looked down at the prince’s face, and received a wink for her trouble. The sensation faded in an instant. She stared, looking around to see if anyone else had noted the prince’s gesture, but no one reacted.

She returned her sight to Zaress, watching the prince, and Irwys standing nearby from the corner of her eye.

“I greet the council, and apologize for the short notice of this meeting,” Zaress said, his voice booming across the room, demanding attention.

“Small talk ain’t what we’re ‘ere for are we? Ye call upon the deep downers for War, human. I’m here to hear yer plea,” the dwarf woman snorted, her accent thick.

“My, boisterous as always, aren't we Merideth?'' The Harpy woman trilled, covered her face with her feathered wing-hands.

“The empire, as always, is willing to take up arms for a just cause. Especially for a city like Lienmont,” another man spoke, the representative from the empire.

Jennifer turned to stare at the guild head, and for a moment, she felt as if she saw the man sigh. “It is not our war that I have called you here for. I’m assuming at least some of you are already aware of the invasion headed by the Ostiri upon Lienmont,” Zaress said.

“Have the Rezis lost control of their tribes? I’d always stood against allowing vile things such as [Slave Lords] to be allowed to trade with the Alliance for just this very reason,” the human from the Empire spoke, his face twisted in disgust.

“If I may guild head,” prince Laiken spoke, and the guild head nodded. “The Ostiri are headed by a Mark. A man, holding one of the eight Marks given by the trial that has begun beneath the city of Lienmont. The great dungeon under the city is shifting, changing, and, we fear, not for the better. I, and the guild, have gathered some of these Marks, each with unique abilities. And one of them comes bearing a grim news of the future,” prince Laiken says, turning towards Jennifer.

Jennifer gulped as the eyes of the dozens of figures rested upon her.

“The demons are colluding with the Ostiri. Our [Seers] see a great calamity that would strike the continent near the end of this month, one capable of toppling the Alliance itself,” Prince Laiken continued, as Jennifer saw the Mark on his forehead beginning to glow.

Murmurs spread across the council members.

“Something is there, within the dungeon, something the demons are targeting. And we need the Alliance’s support to stop them,” Prince Laiken said.

“Do you mean to take a girl’s wordsss? On matters such as thisss?” the Lizardfolk spoke, a long tongue flickering out with a trailing hiss.

“I am aware of the gravity of the situation,” Prince Laiken spoke. “And thus, the Mark of Time will be testifying in front of the council, on a greater truth spell, upon the veracity of her words,” Laiken spoke. Jennifer’s heart thundered.

She bowed her head lightly and stepped forward. Their gazes were intense and curious and she was thankful that these people weren’t present physically in front of her or she may just have collapsed from the weight of their combined presence.

Mana linked with her mind, and she looked up to the source. Nathaniel stood at the back, still intently focused on the spell, but the mage nodded reassuringly. Jennifer nodded back. She needed to gather herself. With a light breath in, Jennifer straightened her back as she stood in front of the council.

“A young lass eh? If it weren’t for the decades I’ve known ye Zariss, I’d have thought ye were making a fool of me today,” the dwarf woman snorted, turning her eyes towards Jennifer.

“Jennifer Lain,” Prince Laiken spoke, and she turned to meet the prince’s eyes. “Are you willing to swear upon your words, in front of a truth spell?” the prince asked.

Jennifer took in a breath, and then nodded. “I am.”

“Then swear, Jennifer, that each word you have spoken is the truth,” Prince Laiken spoke, as the runes below her feet lit up, swirling with mana. [Lesser Arcane Analysis] presented the spell in front of her eyes.

Spell of Greater Truth

Divination

Tier - 6

A spell of Greater truth. To lie before this spell is the task of the fool, or of the brightest of Mage.

“I swear upon my words, and upon the future I witnessed. The Ostiri would be led by a Mark, tearing into Lienmont alongside demons, as the people would be slaughtered in droves. I have seen that future with my own two eyes, heard their screams, and watched the city burn in front of my eyes. To this, I swear on my Mark,” Jennifer said, magic rippling at each spoken word.

Runes swirled around her in a frenzy as the spell clamped itself upon her soul. A burning light flashed, the runes beneath her feet lighting up with a golden color, and Jennifer felt the spell loosen its clutch from her. She almost breathed out a sigh of relief.

With a resounding crack, thunder flashed near Zaress, as the guild head turned to stand next to Jennifer, facing the council.

“The truth lies there for us to see. And as such, I, Zaress Keinor, proclaim the guild of Lienmont at war with the demons. Will the Alliance stand by us?” The guild head asked, his words vibrating with power.

A few moments passed, as mana swirled in the room, auras flaring. With a snort, Merideth spoke up. “The deep downers will stand,” she said.

“The Empire will stand,” a voice followed.

“The white blossom will stand,” the dryad said.

“The nests will support the cause,” the harpy followed.

“The swamps agreesss,” the lizardfolk said, hissing.

“The tribes will provide you with support as well,” the elf spoke at last.

“You know I’m already in,” Prince Laiken said with a smile.

Zaress looked around the chamber in silence, nodding to himself. With heavy words, he spoke at last. "And thus, the Alliance stands as one. After decades, we begin anew a centuries old war against the demons. May Sera grace us all.”

And so the war began.

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