Chapter 7:

Cort lazily followed behind the wolf as it went after the three children. Yet despite his careless appearance, his technique was flawless. Like a shadow, he flickered against the night’s sky while not issuing a single sound.

The wolf seemed to be just as bored, as a few moments later it made its move. It sped up its pace considerably and outran the boys before turning around.

Cort maintained his pace and stopped a distance away from the scene.

The three boys stopped running as they stared in fear at the wolf that appeared before them. Like the angel of death, the wolf approached the boys at a slow and mocking pace. Its footsteps rang within their ears and seemed to overpower the sound of their heartbeats.

The oldest of the boys hurriedly stepped in front of his brother with outstretched arms in an effort to protect.

The wolf seemed to find that hilarious as it smirked. The smallest looking of the boys never took his eyes off the wolf, and continued to stare at it with a fierce look. Cort noted how the boy seemed to be muttering to himself beneath his breath.

‘Praying, probably’ He guessed.

As the wolf drew closer, the boy stopped muttering and turned towards the brothers. They seemed to argue for a few seconds, but in the end the older brother nodded his head resolutely and pulled his brother away from the scene in a hurry. The wolf seemed to find the whole situation amusing as it kept switching its gaze between the boy and the retreating brothers. Finally making a decision, it headed towards the latter.

But before it could get far, a bright flash illuminated the area as the small sound of an explosion sounded out. The wolf cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain and it quickly retreated away from the boy.

Cort’s eyes widened in surprise. Fire seemed to materialize from the boy’s palm after he yelled a word out loud. Logically Cort knew that it was probably some gadget that could produce flames. ‘But why use that? Surely a sword or a gun would be more practical.’

The wolf calmed down as it inspected its wounds. Other than for some minor burns and bruises, it took no significant damage. Noticing how insignificant the attack was, it looked as if it had taken a blow to its ego and thus it began to walk towards the boy.

The boy panicked and raised his hand once more while muttering.

The wolf stopped and eyed the boy closely. Suddenly a crafty look could be seen in its eyes as it backed away into the bushes slowly.

Instantly Cort knew of the wolf’s plans and looked towards the boy.

He was panting heavily and sweat poured down his face.

‘His guard is down completely…’ Cort thought with some disappointment.

As expected, the wolf reappeared behind the boy. The two eerie eyes seemed to be floating as the wolf’s body blended with the surroundings. Wind gathered around its four paws and it prepared itself to launch.

Cort looked back towards the panting boy, only to see the situation unchanged. ‘He’s doomed.’ Cort thought a little bitterly.

In a flash, the wolf rocketed from his position and neared the boy. A split second later, the boy reacted by lifting his arms up to protect his face. The decision proved useful as the wolf’s teeth was stopped by the arm. A fountain of blood erupted as teeth met flesh and the boy’s cries of pain sounded out.

Yet despite being slightly impressed at the boy’s reaction time, Cort knew that it was ultimately futile. That was unless the kid could pull something out of his ass in time.

The wolf pulled its teeth out of the boy’s flesh. The sound of his screams hid the sound of tearing flesh. The boy struggled, but to no avail as the wolf used its body to pin him down. Opening its mouth once more, it began to chomp towards his neck. But before it could get the chance, a hand slipped down the wolf’s gullet and opened itself up. “{Fireball}!” The boy yelled and an intense heat began to build within the depths of the wolf’s body. The heat was promptly followed by pain.

The wolf hurriedly stepped away from the boy before spitting a large amount of blood out. Its blood shot eyes stared at the panting youth in anger, but it soon dissipated as it spotted the boy’s expression. Madness, anger, confusion and killing intent warped his facial features towards the extreme. Finally he struggled to raise his hand towards the wolf and it reacted instinctively by running away. This time for good.

The boy dropped to his knees in exhaustion and began gulping down large amounts of air.

‘Well color me surprised, the bastard actually did it.’ Cort was truly impressed this time. From beginning to end the boy made do with quick thinking and absurd luck. Had the boy reacted a bit late, dead. Had the wolf attacked a bit fiercer, dead. Had the boy been a second late in shoving his hand the wolf’s damn throat, dead.

‘His story will be an interesting one.’ Cort smiled as he watched the boy keep his guard up, despite not seeing the wolf.

Out of nowhere, a large pillar of light illuminated the area around them. The pillar pierced the skies fearlessly, as it seemed to defy the overwhelming darkness of night. To Cort, it looked like an arrow of light that revealed the path he needed to take. A beacon that shone brilliantly during the storm.

“I need to go there.” He said quietly. As he dazedly gazed at the pillar. …………………………………………

A gust of wind pierced through the trees and stopped before an unmarked grave. The winds dissipated and two figures appeared from within.

Triste gazed deeply at the grave in front of her. Like the stories stated, all around her silence seemed to reign.

‘The silence is deafening...Could there be some truth to the legends?’ She lamented seriously.

“Is this the grave sister Triste?” Amy asked with curious eyes.

“Yes this is the place from all the stories.”

“Are they true?”

“That I do not know.”

“Why hasn't the wind palace investigated this matter?”

“Too much work for such an insignificant place. In fact, were it not for Shadewood, Phentar would not even be considered worthy of falling under the wind palace’s banner.”

“I see, thank you for your wisdom.”

“Speak nothing of it.”

Both women stopped talking and simply chose to continue observing the grave.

A few seconds later, a voice sounded behind them.

“Not all of the stories are true but some of them are.”

Amy started as she heard the familiar, mesmerizing voice.

“My apologies, have you two waited long?” He said as he approached the two.

“It is us who should be asking that to you. Sir William” Triste replied as she turned towards him.

“Oops, it looks like I’ve been caught with my white lie.” His tone now sounded a little apologetic. “The people of the wind palace are truly impressive.”

‘Changing the subject, are you?’ Triste thought with contempt. “Thank you for your compliments.”

Faking a cough he continued “Anyway, back to the topic at hand. The most famous of the stories hold some foundation of truth. A good example of this is the one that concerns a group of twenty or so Core Refinement magicians. These grounds are in fact soaked in the blood of those magicians, and some of them were even close to the mid-stage of core refinement. An eighth grade if you will.”

During his speech, the man drew closer to the grave and was now touching it lightly.

“Whoa…” Amy looked at the grave with a mild sense of fear.

“Yes” He was now dusting the dirt off the stone “Another noteworthy example is-” Before he could continue, he was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of an immensely sized pillar of light that radiated from the grave. The pillar connected the grave to the skies above the clouds.

The three magicians shielded their eyes away as they winced in pain.

“What is happening exactly?” Triste asked.

Slowly the male magician took his arms of off his eyes and studied the pillar closely. His expression kept shifting as he pondered its existence. A few moments later, his brows furrowed.

“...a beacon.” He muttered to himself before reaching towards the light.

At his touch, the light started to break apart. Small particles of light descended prettily from the vanishing light.

Amy stared with wonder at the sight. To her, it resembled the fall of snowflakes illuminated by the sun’s light. Furthermore, upon reaching the ground the light seemed to melt away.

All around the three magicians, the sounds of fleeing animals rang.

Suddenly as the pillar shrank to half its size and grew hazy, a heavy feeling of suction assaulted them.

Triste discovered that, to her horror, the grave seemed to be devouring her unrefined Origin Energy.

“Amy! Refine everything you have stored but don’t use it for your core!” She ordered as she began to wildly refine whatever energy she had left. To magician, the best time to refine wild Origin was just before a spell’s casting. As the longer that refined energy is stored, the weaker it becomes. That is unless it is used to build up one’s core. She grit her teeth as she continued to madly refine. By the end of it she managed to store 80 percent of her limit. But without the ability to absorb new energy, she would not last long in a fight.

Once again she tried to absorb new energy, but she was still restricted by the grave.

“Amy, how are you doing?” She asked her.

“I’m fine.” She replied in a tense voice as a look of concentration flashed across her eyes.

Having been reassured of Amy’s condition, she turned towards the other person of their party.

‘As expected of a high level Free-Form’ She thought as she looked at him.

He still had a casual look to him, as if unperturbed by the events around him. She had no idea if it was an act or not. And she supposed that was the point of it.

“Stay sharp Miss Mend, we have a guest.” His melodic voice said softly,

Confused, she was about to ask for the meaning of his words, but she was soon forced to swallow her words as she saw a transparent figure sitting above the gravestone.

The figure was that of an old man, his facial features were wrinkled yet it was clear that he was once an attractive person. His white hair was shoulder length and unkempt but coupled with his long, swaying beard and deep eyes, they gave him an air of mystery.

‘His eyes.’ She thought in a daze. The man’s eyes were unfathomably deep and they seemed to have experienced all the world had to offer. In front of such eyes she felt as if all her secrets were laid bare. Anxiety sprouted in her heart as she began chanting {Sprint}. Her eyes darted towards Amy’s location.

“It’s nice to meet you senior.” Unlike her, William was calm and used a polite yet confident tone. Once again his melodious voice seemed to soothe all those around him.

The old man locked his eyes upon the magician with a mild gaze.

“Cut it out with that word-binding crap.” In contrast to his mysterious and respectful appearance, his words were foul.

“Sir, what ever do you mea-”

Wind suddenly surrounded everyone as Triste moved with extreme speed towards Amy, it seemed she buckled under the pressure.

William’s face hardened at her unexpected actions. “Miss Mend, do not act in haste.”

Triste said nothing as she grabbed Amy be her neck and dashed away.

Just as she reached the edge of the clearing a booming voice ordered “Stop!”

Triste sneered as she heard the voice. ‘Like hell I will’ However in contrast to her thoughts, her body started to slow its pace involuntarily. “Wh-What is happening.”

“Come to my side, you two.” William said in a gentler tone.

Triste kept resisting the voice’s odd power, but unlike her Amy willingly moved towards him.

“Amy!” she said in a questioning tone. It was then that she saw her expression. Amy’s eyes were hallow and her face void of any emotion.

‘Mental Possession’ her heart shuddered as she thought of a certain lost art.

Decisively letting go of Amy, she attempted to escape on her own, however she felt as if she was trapped in quick sand as every frantic action led to her eventual drowning. A feeling of deep helplessness captured her tightly as she slowly stopped struggling.

Soon enough both women were next to William as they stood facing the old man.

William coughed and continued as if nothing happened. “As I was saying, senior. I was wondering if it was at all possible for me to ask you a couple of questions.”

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