There was no more news of him. Actually, there was, but those were old. All the excitement was slowly petering out, and while people still looked into him, either in the form of videos or background checks, the commotion and excitement were dying down. It was inevitable. The same thing happened to Mikhail once he claimed the first place, and the same happened to the one before him.

And while Jered’s situation was very special compared to previous cases, Magicians would never get too hung up on short-lived celebrities. Therefore, his name didn’t pop up much in the news section of the AUC website. A pity, truly. Del was disappointed that those fools couldn’t see the greatness that was Jered. No one could see past those flashy spells and behold the sharp mentality of a young man that was destined to stand above the hierarchy of Archiland.

Del knew better, and because of that, he couldn’t help but lament the foolishness of his fellow colleagues. He was his friend, after all. He knew him on a personal level; he was even part of his organization! He had been entrusted with an important task, and he hadn’t failed. Del would never allow failure to stain his reputation when it came to his ‘friendship’ with Jered.

Friendship, hah. How weird. He barely had friends—no, scratch that. His social circle was made up of acquaintances. There were no friends to speak of. That’s why Del regarded Jered in such high esteem. And that’s also why he couldn’t stand people not looking up to his friend!

Del turned all the blinds of his home down; he had recently moved to Ashford Town in hopes of being closer to Jered, but after his glorious victory against Mikhail, the young man had disappeared. He looked everywhere for him, or for people that might know where he had gone to.

Ashy Petals, Jered’s organization—at least on the surface—didn’t exist anymore. Well, the company behind it did, but the magical side of it had ceased to exist. The executives had been executed and all of its members had vanished into thin air, along with the building. Literally. At first, he was extremely concerned about it, wondering if something had happened to Jered. But that seemed highly unlikely.

Ambrose had spared him a few words, with a pale and haggard face. The face of a man that regretted his decisions but learned to accept them. Del had never seen such a… mentally broken Royal Magician. Emotions became more manageable the stronger you got, though there were exceptions.

That was the last time he saw Ashy Petals’ former leader. Fortunately, he was reassured about Jered’s wellbeing. Hell, from the way Ambrose intoned his words, Del could infer Jered had a hand in whatever happened to Ashy Petals. As expected of his best friend! Way to go!

Still, that posed a quite important question? Where was he?

Del wasn’t expecting Jered to keep him updated about his endeavors or whatever future plans he had in store, but a curt text message would have been fine too. Well, as long as he was fine, it didn’t matter. In the meanwhile, he would prepare everything for his return. Namely, a small army of criminals more than willing to do whatever it took for a shot at freedom.

It wouldn’t be too hard.

Not with the right incentives. And Jered’s name was one hell of an incentive.

However, there was a way more important thing to do first. Something he had been putting off for a while—mostly because he didn’t know whether it was a good idea or not. Not to mention, he didn’t know if he could pull it off either. It was a gamble, but if it worked… the reward would change his life.

It was dark in his home, just as he had willed it to be. Darkness was required for what he was about to do.

With quiet steps, Del withdrew a plastic bag from a cabinet tucked away in a corner. And within the small bag was a strand of black hair. He unsealed the slit and stuffed his nose inside it, taking a deep whiff of it. There was no scent reminiscent of Jered; it had been quite a while, and whatever smell had been there, was long gone.

It didn’t matter. Not anymore, anyway.

Del clutched the plastic bag protectively as he pulled back a drawer and retrieved a worn and torn piece of parchment. It was something he had found by chance on a trip to a faraway land somewhere in Asia. That had been so long ago, yet he had never found a use for it. Well, not until now.

He moved with haste, even though he had all the time in the world at his disposal. He pinned the old parchment on the wall with a conjured nail and made sure to go over it again and again—just to make sure he didn’t screw up mid-ritual.

The ingredients were simple, the pentagram he had to draw not so much.

‘1 ml of blood from a Rainbow Unicorn.’ As much as he was rich, it still hurt his pockets to acquire it. Especially because it was extremely rare to come by. It was a good thing he had connections in the right and wrong places.

‘A fetus, sired by Magicians.’ It was dead, that’s how Del managed to get his hands on it. He felt for the unborn soul, but the lifeless mortal coil would help him achieve his goal. Still, he clasped his hands in prayer and offered his thanks to the child. ‘May their soul rest wherever dead children go.’

The last ingredient was the most important one, even though he didn’t pay anything to get it.

‘A strand of hair from the body you wish to reproduce.’

Del smiled as he stared at the plastic bag in his hand. Due to that, he would become just like Jered. That attractive appearance. That unmatched talent. And that sharp mentality fit for greatness. He briefly wondered how Jered would react at seeing a clone of himself. Maybe he’d applaud him for the splendid work. Maybe he’d feel threatened by the appearance of someone whose talent could match his own.

It could be dangerous, but Del was too excited to care. He had done what Jered had requested anyway, after that he could lay low for a while—until he had enough power to make a public appearance. But that was for the future.

Del arranged the ingredients for the ritual around him before he conjured a knife and slit his wrist. Before his mana could act up and heal the deep gash, the wound spurted out long rivulets of fresh blood on the softwood flooring of his apartment. He cast ‘Low Telekinesis’, and with a tug of his mind, the blood levitated off the ground and began to move around.

He was not particularly talented, and his telekinetic grip wasn’t strong either. What made it worse was the sheer complexity of the pentagram; clearly, that ritual was not made for a mediocre Adept-Tier Magician like him to attempt. His thoughts revolved around Jered, and how easy he could most likely pull it off.

That made Del even more eager to succeed. If he could become like him, would it matter what price he’d have to pay?

He steeled his determination and renewed his focus.

The ribbons of blood floating in the air wiggled as they lowered back down on the floor in a fixed pattern, until a crimson circle was formed, whereupon a triangle and an inverted triangle entwined with each other on top of the circle. It was incredibly hard to get the shapes right, as even a drop out of place could very well fuck everything up.

That would not have been pleasant.

Del proceeded with the next part of the ritual. He had to write the following words on the perimeter of the circle. ‘Löngun’. ‘Að umbreyta’. ‘Líkami’. They were not standalone sentences, but words that helped convey the purpose of the ritual. A bead of sweat slid down Del’s forehead, and he quickly flung it away with a small burst of ‘Low Telekinesis’.

The last thing he wanted was to ruin everything because he was leaking. That would have been embarrassing.

Del heaved a deep breath in, and continued with the last part of the ritual.

The ingredients.

He started with the fetus, which would grow to be his new vessel. With a wave of his hand, the curled up, lifeless fetus floated atop the circle, right where the tips of the triangles met. The intricate lines of blood glowed faintly, meaning that there was no way back. Del didn’t allow distracting thoughts to change his mind.

Then, with the utmost care, he placed the strand of hair on top of the fetus.

“Please, let this work. Please, please, please!”

Del gritted his teeth and gently levitated the purple-ish blood. There were one million ways the ritual could go horribly wrong, but he hoped he had enough luck to turn his life around, “Please,” he intoned one more time as he let the rare unicorn blood drop on the circle. The reaction was immediate.

The circuit of blood glowed with such an intensity that it completely offset the darkness of his home, making the whole place bright, as if under broad daylight. He idly noted that the blood had taken one a more purple hue as it did so. A surge of mana bled out of the pentagram, enveloping the ingredients in a bright orb of light.

Del didn’t know much about rituals. So it was safe to say he didn’t know whether that orb of light was a good or a bad thing. Still, he had gambled everything on that. He crossed his fingers and prayed that everything would have turned out alright, because he was close to passing out.

The orb of light became a deep, alarming crimson.

“W-What…”

Del’s eyes went wide open as something was pulling him forward. Not, not exactly him. More like his ‘consciousness’—his soul, perhaps. He couldn’t tell. Everything was so blurry in his spinning world. For some reason, there was no fear. However, there was no happiness either, sadness, or anger. There was only an immense void that longed to be filled.

He watched as he left his body behind, his vision blinded by the bright light that consumed him.

A strong pulse of mana went off, sweeping through the apartment and destroying anything that came in contact with it—his own body included. Nothing was left of Del. No, actually, something was.

A quagmire of blood, flesh, skin, and bones.

However, in that intense—and now tapering off—light, Del was being reborn.

His soul flew into the fetus.

A Mana Circuit was being forged.

Then the fetus ‘grew’. Week by week. The rest of its body began to develop in earnest, absorbing vast amounts of mana.

Del was in a lethargic state as this process went on, as if he were under anesthesia.

Eventually, the fetus fully matured, yet its growth didn’t stop there. From an infant to a toddler. From a toddler to a preschooler. From a preschooler to a school-aged child. From a school-aged child to an adolescent. What should have taken decades to happen, happened within a couple of hours.

Soon, Del’s growth slowed down to a stop.

A second, and last, pulse of mana spread out.

The orb of light flickered a few times before it died out, and when it did, it spat Del out onto the floor.

A hazy curtain of steam arose from Del’s body.

“Ugh…”

His head throbbed painfully, and his body felt sluggish and weak, not to mention extremely hot, as if he had just walked out of a sauna. He rolled on the floor a couple of times, rubbing his head for good measure. The details of what happened were fuzzy. He didn’t know if he had succeeded or not, though if his aching body was anything to go by, he probably had.

Probably.

“Ugh… fuck…”

He frowned, bringing one hand up to massage his throat. Hmm. The tone was a bit off, way too high-pitched. Though considering the toll the ritual placed on his newly-born body, it was not that surprising. He was sure his voice would go back to normal soon enough.

However, there was one disturbing discrepancy Del discovered while he ran his hand up and down his throat.

He blinked, his hand furiously fondling his neck in search of something very important.

Where the fuck was his Adam’s apple?

The realization hit him like a truck, “Oh no…”