Chapter 62
Chapter 62
“...what are you doing, Amelia?” Noele asked, blinking.
I glanced back from the stove and replied simply, “I’m cooking us lunch. Where are your parents at?”
I only saw Noele and Garron standing at the front door. Both of them were carrying these large Bags of Holding— probably to carry grain. There was a crackle of oil, and I glanced back down to the frying pan as a small fire sizzled beneath it.
The Steel Tank frowned as he peered over my shoulder. “What… is that?”
“Fried rice,” I said as I stirred the pan. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”
Garron just blanched, and I rolled my eyes. I expected that reaction from him, considering I didn’t have a [Chef] Class. But I was sure he was going to love it when he gave it a try. However, what I didn’t expect was Noele’s reaction. She bit her lower lip.
“But… why?” she asked. “Are you trying to open up a food stall again?”
“You liked the burger, didn’t you?” I scoffed, shaking the frying pan over the fire.
Noele hesitated. “I… kind of did? But you barely got any sales, remember?”
“I just felt like cooking,” I said with a shrug. “This isn’t for a food stall or whatever. And even if it was, it’s not my fault Jax scared away my customers.”
“I don’t think Jax was the problem, Amelia.” The blonde girl eyed my food apprehensively.
“My cooking is fine.” I pulled the pan away from the stove, turning the fire down. It wasn’t a gas stove, but it was a magical stove. I just had to press on a rune, and the flames would change in intensity— it was really quite comparable to modern technology.
I served the fried rice in a large bowl as Noele and Garron exchanged an uneasy glance. I knew my cooking was fine. I didn’t need a Class to cook well. Maybe random strangers weren’t going to give me a fair chance, but I knew I could convince Noele’s family and Garron to try out my food, and I especially knew that they would find it delicious.
“Just give it a try, and if you hate it, you can spit it out and eat something else.” I spoke casually, and they acquiesced.
I watched the two of them as they slowly sat down like they were condemned prisoners about to eat their last meals. As they gave my food a taste test, I did wonder how Jax was doing. Didn’t he go off to see Grat-ra’zun or something?
Man, I felt bad for the Elder Dragon… I hoped that annoying elf wasn’t going to pester him too much…
—--
“Hm, what?”
Grat-ra’zun blearily blinked his eyes open as he sat up in his cave. There was the clatter of coins. His pile of gold and platinum shifted, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Did I doze off?” he groused as he raised a stubby arm and scratched his head. “What was I doing again…?”
He was an Elder Dragon— one of the last in the world— and he went by many names. He was known as Igniz’s Arcane Champion; the King of the Crimson; the Wisest Sage of the World System; and more recently, the Glorious Terror of Mount Arkais. But he was also incredibly old, so his memory wasn’t all that great.
It took him a moment to finally remember what had happened before he fell back to sleep. And he recalled a rift in space. A creeping chill. And…
“Oh, right. That girl.”
Grat-ra’zun frowned as he clambered out of his bed of treasures. Two young women had intruded into his hidden lair. Annoying human adventurers. Or so he thought at first. But as it turned out, one of them had been an otherworlder, and they sought guidance.
It was… an embarrassing misunderstanding. Especially after the Elder Dragon had prostrated himself before them when he had exhausted all his traps and his greatest Skills. That otherworlder— Amelia— had completely overpowered his magicks, and he thought he was going to die.
But she just asked him to teach her how to connect with the World System. It sounded like a simple enough task. Grat-ra’zun almost found it to be ridiculous. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized something was amiss. After all, in over ten thousand years of his life, this was the first he had heard of such an issue.
He almost felt that… the World System could be…
The Elder Dragon’s thoughts trailed off. And he blinked, eyes growing wide.
“That’s right— the Fal-Deus is making its return,” he exclaimed as he swept his gaze over the cave chamber. He scrambled forward, quickly sifting through his treasures. “Where’s that damn… aha!”
Grat-ra’zun produced a large glittering scroll. He opened it, and gleaming silver words flashed on its magical parchment. His eyes quickly scanned through the messages— it told him of every major news event that had happened in the last decade since he was last awake. He read through it, nodding slowly.
“The otherworlder Kallistus Kal is summoned by the— I was there for that, yes. The meteoric rise of the Miststorm Riders… who are they?” Grat-ra’zun continued skimming through the scroll as he murmured. “Ivory the Fairy Queen was ousted… the Kingdom of Kal was formed… the elves attempt a final assault on the sunken continent of Mare…”
There was so much for the Elder Dragon to read through. It almost felt like a century’s worth of events had occurred in a mere decade. Everything from the Kingdom of Kal’s rapid expansion throughout Laxo, to the extreme rise in terrorist attacks across Alius. That was not to mention the fact that the two-hundred year war between merfolk and elves had flared up once again with the death of the former Merfolk Emperor.
“Vacuos should have just begun a new Age of Calamity,” Grat-ra’zun said as he arched his brows. “But this is far worse than any of the previous cycles I have ever seen. Could the Sect of Abyssal Thorns be behind this…?”
It almost seemed artificial. The flare of monster attacks was entirely in line with the past Cycles of Calamity. But everything else… was happening too quickly. The Elder Dragon had lived long enough to realize that there was something more to these wars and conflicts.
“I will need to speak with the Archmage King or the Grand Sage about this… wait—”
And Grat-ra’azun froze. He stared at the most recent words etched onto his scroll. It brought him news from the recent days. Rumors that likely hadn’t even reached Laxo yet. But it was news that would shake the entire world.
“The Grand Sage of Imbel Forest is dead?” the Elder Dragon sputtered as smoke huffed out of his nostrils. “Impossible— how did the Merfolk Empress kill him? He was the leader of the elves… he was…”
Grat-ra’zun could not believe his eyes. He caught himself, shaking his head. He would need to confirm the veracity of this news. The Grand Sage of Imbel Forest had been Level 73— one of the very few SS-ranks in all of Vacuos. And certainly, he didn’t have a Class specialized for combat. But he was at least equal in strength to the Level 68 Archmage King of Scholus.
If the Merfolk Empress had slain the Grand Sage in battle, that meant she was at least equivalent to an SS-rank threat. And Grat-ra’zun could only think of one way she attained such great power so quickly.
“She must have been empowered by the Void itself,” he whispered in a harrowed voice.
It was the only explanation. The Merfolk Empress must have been Void-touched— perhaps even Void-blessed. Either way, her strength could not have come from the World System alone. Because to attain such power through ordinary means required a gradual growth. And in this millennium of peace prior to the beginning of the Age of Calamity, there weren’t very many threats that could have let one easily reach SS-rank.
But through the gifts of the Great Evil lurking beneath Vacuos, such powers could be attained in an instant. And that was why the return of the Fal-Deus could spell the end of the world— it would have led to the beginning of the apocalypse.
“By the Thrones,” Grat-ra’zun cursed at the thought. Things were far worse than he thought.
The Elder Dragon lowered the golden scroll. He must have made a mistake. When Amelia had shown up a few months ago, he thought that there was still time before the Sect of the Abyssal Thorns learned of the revival of the Fal-Deus.
But he was already too late. He drew forward, tracing his clawed fingers in the air as he prepared various [Message] spells. He was going to have to assemble those he could trust as soon as possible. Fortunately, thanks to Amelia, the defenses to his lair had already been dismantled. He didn’t need to disable the dangerous spells surrounding his cavern to prepare for guests.
“Now, who should I contact?” the Elder Dragon wondered aloud as all kinds of magical sigils glimmered around him. He could think of dozens of individuals he could call, but a thought crossed his mind. “And who has yet been compromised by the Sect of Abyssal Thorns?”
Their reaches must have spanned far and wide to influence the world to such an extent. There were only a few individuals Grat-ra’zun could trust, and some of them might have even fallen to the Void’s temptation.
The Elder Dragon shook his head. “First, I shall pay a visit to Scholus—”
And an explosion interrupted him. A powerful blast struck his crimson scales as he recoiled, roaring in pain. He snapped his gaze back and opened his maw.
“Who dares—”
He barely caught a glimpse of a shadowed figure zipping across the ceiling before a second explosion engulfed him. It was accompanied by a whistling sound, before blasting out around him with sparks and glitter. The shockwave rippled across the cave chamber. Mountains of coins toppled, and ancient relics were sent scattering across the room.
Grat-ra’zun felt like he had been struck by a falling star. He ground his teeth together as he steadied himself from the attack. The shadowed figure zipped back as he unhinged his jaw.
“Burn!” he screamed, unleashing a plume of fire into the air.
The flames struck the ceiling, and the blast knocked the shadowed figure back. A white sphere flickered and flashed, protecting the shadowed figure as it crashed into the ground. It… no, she skidded to a stop right by the feet of another five figures standing at the entrance to the Elder Dragon’s lair.
He narrowed his eyes as the first figure picked herself up, flitting back up into the air. A small set of wings buzzed behind her as she dusted herself off. She was tiny— barely bigger than a gnome.
Behind her, a tall figure towered over her. And four more figures waited at the side, smirking even in the face of an Elder Dragon. There were six of them in total, and Grat-ra’zun recognized all of them.
“Ivory the Fairy Queen?” His eyes went round as he stared at the first figure.
She raised her head, blinking as he said her name. Her brows snapped together and she snorted. “I am now the Exiled Queen, thank you very much.”
He swept his gaze past her— at the looming creature that stood at ten feet tall. With a glistening sable skin, that was also as hard as rock, and glinting red eyes that peered at the dragon with no emotion.
“Rakash the Tormentor of Alius.”
The troll hefted an obsidian axe over his shoulder. He did not grin. He did not smile. He was the horror that haunted the dwarven nations on the other side of Vacuos. At dawn, he would appear before a village, town, or a city. At dusk, he would leave behind nothing but ruins. He alone was responsible for a million deaths across Alius over the last twenty-years.
And it was his actions that inspired many trolls, gnomes, ogres, and nagas to do the same.
Grat-ra’zun’s eyes darted to the remaining four figures. Two of them were clearly human, one of them was an elf, and the last was one of the merfolk. Their reputations were not nearly as prevalent as the first two, but the dragon still knew of their names.
“Ammon the Arcane Archsorcerer. Delmer the Sentinel of Light. Usil the Malevolent Berserker. And Si-Vus the Land Conqueror.”
All six of them were high S-rank in level. They gathered before the Elder Dragon’s lair as he stared at them uncertainly. He straightened, eyeing their every move.
“Why are you here?” Grat-ra’zun asked. “Why have you come to my lair?”
They exchanged a glance. For a moment, none of them said a word. Then Ivory just laughed.
“We’re here to kill you for our King, of course.”
And she raised a sparkling wand, unleashing a flurry of twinkling stars his way.
MelasD
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