Divine Deity Sect…
The large number of mages filled the Divine Deity Sect and a thick eerie stillness prevailed all over the sect.
The sprawling sect grounds, usually bustling with disciples, now only allowed silent, shadowy figures to pass through its grand gates.
Hooded, masked, and heavily armed, the individuals moved with deliberate steps, each flashing a unique weapon symbol etched onto their skin.
The gatekeepers, clad in silver robes embroidered with golden swords, verified every single one before allowing inside.
Among the flowing crowd, three men stood out despite their efforts to blend in. Jason Mama’s spies, trained in the highest arts of deception, attempted to merge with the stream of sect members. They whispered among themselves, their eyes darting around in calculation.
“Keep your heads down. We just need to gather intelligence on their gathering,” one of the spies muttered, his voice barely audible over the shuffling feet.
But no amount of training could mask the tension in their postures. Unlike the others, they lacked the crucial weapon symbol that granted access beyond the gate.
As they approached the sect’s entrance, the lead spy stepped forward, confident that his skills could deceive even the most discerning eyes. However, the gatekeeper’s gaze lingered on him for a moment too long.
“Your symbol?” the gatekeeper demanded, his voice cold and clipped.
The spy hesitated, hand inching toward his hidden dagger, but before he could act, a streak of silver light descended like divine judgment.
A sharp wind howled, and the next moment, the heads of all three spies tumbled to the ground. Blood pooled beneath their lifeless bodies as the crowd stepped over them, utterly indifferent.
High above, the Supreme Sword Magus, Elarin, hovered, his blade gleaming faintly under the moonlight. He sheathed his sword with a soft metallic ring, eyes narrowing as he scanned the remaining crowd.
“No outsiders,” he declared, his voice resonating through the sect grounds like thunder. “Only those chosen by the sword shall enter.”
A ripple of energy passed over the crowd, yet no one dared to respond.
Among the last of the crowd, one man—ordinary in appearance, witnessed the scene with widening eyes. He is Joon.
Joon, a low-ranking magus specially sent by Alaric. He had only come to observe. Now, sweat poured down his neck. He slipped away as quietly as he could, retreating into the dense forest bordering the sect.
He escaped and ran away like a rat. Finally, his hurried steps carried him up the narrow mountain path, leading to a secluded summit where Supreme Wand Magus Alaric waited.
Alaric stood at the edge, overlooking the Divine Deity Sect through a telescope infused with mystical energy.
“Supreme! They’re dead. All of them,” Joon gasped, falling to his knees.
Alaric lowered the telescope, turning in surprise. “What happened?”
“The spies… their heads rolled before they could say a word. I’ve never seen swordsmanship like that. The sword light moved as if the sky itself obeyed its will.” Joon’s voice trembled.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
As Joon recounted the events, a shadow stretched across the ground. The faint hum of a blade filled the air.
Joon stiffened, eyes wide. A thin line of crimson appeared across his neck, and his head separated from his body, falling forward.
Alaric froze, his fingers pressing around his wand.
“You shouldn’t have fingered here, Alaric,” Elarin’s voice boomed, echoing across the mountaintop.
Alaric turned to face the Supreme Sword Magus, who now stood a few feet away, blade shimmering in the moonlight.
The winds howled across the mountain peak as Alaric stood on the edge of the cliff with nervous looks. Before him, Joon’s headless body lay sprawled, his blood staining the white stone beneath.
Alaric’s sharp blue eyes narrowed, fixated on the figure hovering several meters away. Supreme Sword Magus Elarin floated mid-air, his robes billowing gently in the breeze. The faint glow of his sword shimmered at his side, humming with suppressed energy.
“Elarin, do you who you just killed? Those people belong to Jason Mama. The Nine Realms Association won’t let this slide. Jason Mama will come for you.”
Elarin chuckled softly, the playful sound echoing against the mountain walls. “Jason Mama? He’s already losing his grip. Even if he musters the courage to retaliate, it will be too late.”
Alaric’s eyes narrowed further. “You’re treading dangerous ground. I’m the Supreme Wand Magus. You may have cut down those spies, but challenging me isn’t the same as silencing mere pawns.”
Elarin smirked, his hand gently resting on the hilt of his sword. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? You know as well as I do that strength rule these realms. You chose slavery beneath Jason, and that’s your dog life.”
Alaric took a step forward, his wand slipping into his palm with fluid grace. “The Nine Realms have long stood under balance. A single sword cannot tip those scales.”
Elarin’s gaze hardened, the playfulness in his tone vanishing. “Balance? Alaric, this world has outgrown that fragile harmony. A storm is coming. The power structure of the Nine Realms is shifting beneath your feet, and you stand still like a fool.”
Alaric raised his wand, its tip glowing faintly with silver light. “Enough riddles. You kill spies and silence witnesses, but I won’t let this secret gathering continue unnoticed. I’ll see to it personally that Jason knows what you’re planning.”
Elarin shook his head, disappointment flickering across his features. “You misunderstand, Alaric. There won’t be any ‘after today’ for you.”
Alaric stiffened. “You won’t kill me. Not here. Not on this mountain. If I fall, the other Supremes will descend upon you like vultures.”
Elarin’s lips curled into a slow smile. “No one will come. They’re too busy dealing with the shadows we’ve already set in motion. As for Jason, he’s blind to the rot beneath his throne.”
Alaric smirked. “You may be stronger, but escaping is enough for me. You think I can’t slip away if needed?”
Elarin unsheathed his sword in a single fluid motion, the blade humming with raw energy. “Your arrogance is going to kill you. I’ll pray for your soul, Alaric.”
The air crackled as Alaric’s wand traced a glowing sigil into the sky. “Let’s see if your prayers can cut through this,” he said, unleashing a cascade of silver spears from the sky. The projectiles surged toward Elarin in a blinding wave.
Elarin sliced through the barrage with ease, his sword weaving arcs of light that disintegrated the spears mid-flight. Without missing a beat, he launched forward, slashing in rapid succession.
Alaric twisted, deflecting the strikes with barriers of shimmering light. The mountain trembled beneath the clash, stone cracking and splintering around them. “You’ve improved,” Alaric admitted between gritted teeth.
Elarin’s sword light flashed, leaving a thin cut across Alaric’s shoulder. “I had to,” Elarin replied. “You’ve been standing still for too long.”
Alaric thrust his wand into the ground, summoning a pillar of light beneath Elarin. The sword magus easily darted aside and easily made several cuts over Alaric body with his sword light.
Alaric body froze in surprise.
Breathing heavily, Alaric asked with a stunned look. “When did you reach Half-Sovereign realm?”
Elarin said nothing, his silence more telling than words. The air grew heavier as Elarin raised his sword skyward. Lightning crackled along the blade, arcs of energy dancing down its length.
“This ends now, Alaric.” Read new adventures at My Virtual Library Empire
Alaric’s eyes blazed as he unleashed his strongest spell, conjuring an ethereal beast from the heavens. A silver dragon coiled around him protectively, its scales shimmering with arcane power. “Let’s see you cut through this!” Alaric roared.
Elarin met the challenge head-on, his sword descending with divine light. The dragon lunged, but the blade pierced through its scales, shattering the construct with a single stroke. Alaric stumbled, coughing up blood as the connection to his spell severed.
Elarin landed gracefully, pointing his blade at Alaric’s heart. “You chose the wrong side.”
Alaric smirked through the pain. “Perhaps. But even if I die today, the Nine Realms will never kneel to one sword magus.”
Elarin’s eyes softened for a brief moment, as if acknowledging an old comrade’s bravery. Then, with a swift strike, he ended it.
Alaric collapsed, his lifeless body resting on the scorched ground. Elarin lowered his sword and pierced the mountain with its tip, burying Alaric beneath the shattered peak.
Hovering above the ruins, Elarin glanced toward the horizon where the Divine-Deity-Sect loomed in the distance.
“The endgame is coming… everything will fall apart. And it started with your death, Alaric.” he whispered, sheathing his sword.