Chapter 16 : Rules of Nature

With a gentle wave of his hand, Lucius summoned forth a new menu. His eyes shifted to the gold accented ‘Spell’ button, with a tap of his finger, he drew it forth.

Mages were often archaic creatures, lost in the folly of their ways and huddled amongst others similar to them, their amour propre had been incessantly circlejerking each other; as a result, they shared the common weakness of being lost in anachronistic ways. The refusal to accept modern technology or convention a recurring theme, even to this day, their spells were built on the foundation of old-fashioned models and faiths.

Old-fashioned models and faiths that Lucius naturally frowned upon.

Naturally, Lucius would not have it any other way, had these mages actually understood the obsoleteness of their skills, and chose to reach for a new system of magic. Lucius most certainly would have been sniffed out and restrained.

Heh. After all, he was special, Lucius had been reaffirmed of such all his life, and thus he believed that even the mages, conservative and secluded as they were, would search for him.

To his proud assertion, the millionaire had been homeschooled for the majority of his life, it was only through the books of his mother that he had been able to adapt the practices and functionality of magic in the first place.

If anything, he was more of an artificer than a mage, one who in place of pure concentrated magical ability, sacrificed it for increased potency in the infusion of said magic with his equipment.

Whether it be the construction of talismans, ritualistic daggers, or wands, craftsmanship of such ilk, is thought to be a part of the magical school of Artificery.

Such was the law upon which the very world was built upon, the law of equivalent exchange. Magic, although the manifestation of that which should not exist, is not brought into existence for free, as in its place something must be offered up.

Therefore, to those skilled in one form of magic, they would find themselves lacking in another.

For even the greatest of mages could not hope to succeed at everything.

A concise description of every spell and the requisite incantations being made apparent in the form of visual diagrams, Lucius’s eyes flashed with pride.

“Zoom, I want to get a clear vision of where those bastards are.”

Conventional sci-fi glasses dictating such a possibility, his vision focused until the gang, who had been moments before a mere speck, were now clearly held in full view.

With caution, he approached. Wondering what the face on Tommy would be as he snuffed out his little charade, his grip fastened around the handle of his suitcase.

Step, by step, the two soon arrived at what they looked for. Tied to a nearby tree, Lucius quickly came to the terms that Morgana was in a bit of a pickle. Affirming his will to resolve the conflict, his newly found desire, flared as quickly as it was muffled.

A quick glance, and he saw that two of Tommy’s cronies were at a bit of an impasse. While their position in front of Morgana led Lucius to believe that their designation were that of guards, their overall condition, to put it frankly, did not give much of a strong impression. Confused and befuddled, Lucius doubted that the centipede around their necks were evidence of their beastial preferences and the rope around Morgana’s mouth and hands some… Other things. Concluding that they were all at the mercy of the not so benign Tommy, Lucius would make sure to give the due kindness he had shown Morgana in equal measure.

Lavishing the situation with the most of the emotion he could manifest, Tommy a few arm lengths away in front of the lot, paced about. His face unnaturally pale, his current condition served as a stark contrast to that of yesterday, as he now both coughed in increasing frequency and walked with a stiff gait.

Lucius, who looked him up and down, began to come closer and closer. The continual flow of his blood that grew in strength with each passing second, soon caused his veins to brush against his skin.

But, such anger was little more than the musings of vermin, even with the hostile approach of two enemies and the irate expression that Lucius held on his face, Tommy still smiled.

Whether he was indisposed or ill, it mattered little, Lucius swore to put him out of his misery.

Loathsome, vile, and utterly irredeemable, what virtues others saw in Tommy, Lucius conceived as falsehood. Happiness was reserved for the procurement of victory, of surpassing one’s odds and achieving success, and yet here Tommy was, grinning as he held an innocent girl and two not so innocent goons hostage.

Was this some kind of game to the cretin in front of him?

“Lucius, Harux, drop your weapons and kneel before me.” Tommy yelled, as if it were a natural obligation for the duo.

“I see that your goodwill knows no limits, Tommy,” Lucius quipped.

“I have been known to be a benevolent leader after all.” he replied, adamant to play the role. “As such, if you were to lick my shoes, I would consider making you into subordinates of mine.”

Still in a stroll, Tommy suddenly coughed into his hand.

“However if you refuse,” he added, signalling to his compatriot with a peep of his eyes. “I cannot assure you that she will remain in one piece,” Proof of his commitment to his words in the form of a knife. Tommy envisioned it as a paint brush, with the canvas being the air next to Morgana; he set about the act of painting, drawing imaginary lines of color, tinges and hues in the air. One such stroke of paint even brushed against Morgana’s cheek.

Like a swipe of paint, red now lined the white snow.

Unwavered by his threats, Morgana with vacant eyes looked to Lucius.

The duo, now with full faith that Tommy was plain-spoken about what he had in mind, drew breath.

Itching to just unleash his rage, it took all the self-control that he could muster to not jump forth and end the threat once and for all. The emotion that swirled in Lucius teetered on being borderline homicidal, his mercy would soon run its course.

“Tommy, I will only give you one chance. Release her now or you will regret it!” Lucius growled.

Tommy looked down on the enraged fiend before him, and with added grace, coughed again.

“Kneel mongrels. Though I did not take you for the illiterate sort, I shall reiterate my terms one last time, as I do hold a certain amount of pity for the disabled.”

One of his hands curled into that of a fist, while the other, opened into that of an open palm.

Demonstrating that it was empty, Tommy then pinched his thumb and index finger over empty air, holding a imaginary sheet of paper, which dare anyone presume, was meant to represent the bargain.

Just how excessive was he going to be?

“Pledge allegiance if you do not want her to be harmed, lest my acolyte here remove your pretty flower’s fingernail one by one… Hehehehehe.”

As if jolts of electricity had shot through his spine, Tommy had begun to tremble, quivering in all parts of his body uncontrollably. Even his followers, stubborn and devout as they were, had just the slightest of hunches that perhaps he was not all there in the head.

Determined to prove that his threat was no mere fluke, one of his subservient goons caught the message his master conveyed. Nervously drawing out a plier from their pocket, they lifted it in the air, revealing it like some trophy for all to see.

No more a threat to her than a passing leaf, the one who at the most peril, at most risk of danger or bodily harm, was nothing short of being in a complete state of tranquility. With a steady mind and body, she analyzed the situation at hand.

Even though tight rope had binded both her mouth, legs and arms alike, her breathing and heartbeat was nothing short of normal. If she had to assume, her heart currently operated at around 50 beats per minute, far from the threshold of jeopardy, and below that of what one would even expect even.

Believe it or not, at a time like this she still held not the slightest tinge of fear. The reason was far from just delusion or senseless hope either, the grounds of which her courage was built upon was the simple understanding of logic.

Logic from the comprehension of the character and ability of her partner, nothing more.

Something that the others would come to understand in due time.

“Never,” Lucius responded, standing his ground.

“Very well then, remo-.” Cut off midway, Tommy never did get the chance to finish his line. Forced to yelp out in pain, a blazing bolt of concentrated mana had hit him straight in the chest. On the exact same spot as last night, it was a malicious attack intended solely to maximise his agony.

“Man, all that babbling is making me tired,” Harux complained, his sword already drawn.

And with that act of aggression, the battle had begun.

In an instant, Lucius’s knees dropped to the floor, and his suitcase, having gone down with him, was fit for activation. With a quick yet hefty punch, he hit the M logo on it.