I

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Arc I Chapter 6

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“Captain, I am not sure what you mean.” Ludwig scratched his head. His second in command scanned the area, yet his confusion was evident. His aether sensitivity was never the best. “I can't sense anything ... What ... What ... What is this ...? Captain, do you see what I see?”

“I do.” Guenther nodded before raising his arm to confirm his suspicions. His hand tried to catch the floating particles. He failed. The misty particles eluded his grasp. They consisted of pure, refined aether. Dense, heavy, radiant, they shimmered dark purple, exuding the same oppressive aura he felt before. The surrounding aether was so powerful that it was visible to the naked eyes. It unsettled him. This wasn't normal.

He had heard of such places before, holy sites, ancient ruins, old forests, blessed with high concentrations of natural aether, yet this was different. Their air was rich in aether. The currents strong. This wasn't a natural phenomenon. This phenomenon was artificial.

A fine mist saturated the clearing. Particles permeated the air and coloured the entire world purple. Their number was countless.

Ludwig gulped. “Captain, what is this?” His men grew nervous. The mysterious aether unsettled them.

Guenther remained silent. He was at a loss, like everyone else. The particles didn't remain static. The aether gathered and accumulated in a way that reminded him ...

His blood froze, as realisation struck. He remembered. He had seen this type of aether before. This was ... This was ...

His head turned. As expected, the girl's corpse was the centre. The maelstrom of aether rotated around her dead body. The situation was dire.

“Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!!!” This was a fucking summoning.

Her corpse glowed purple in the dark like a radiant sun. The aether protected her. Purple light covered her whole body as a dormant power awakened, a dormant power of unimaginable scale.

Guenther drew his sword, but it was too late. Their world turned white. An enormous explosion struck them with full force. The shock wave knocked them over.

Moments passed until his consciousness returned, until Guenther clenched his fists. Mud, dirt, sand, and blood filled his mouth. His head suffered from concussion. His eyes caught only a few short glimpses, but they were enough to make his very bones shiver. A giant pillar of purple light rose skywards. Its radiant glory pierced the clouds and heaven itself.

The purple light receded before night reclaimed its rightful place. The pillar weakened and the last remnants of light faded, but this was only the beginning. The dead girl stood before them and lived. Once again, she walked among the living. Clad in black frills, silk, and lace, wonderful crimson blood stained her blouse. The girl looked confused, puzzled, surprised.

Guenther gritted his teeth. He forced himself to stand. He killed the girl with his own hands. He witnessed her death. Whatever they faced, it wasn't her.

His eyes narrowed. A simple question escaped him, “Who are you?”

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