AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Unfortunately, I don’t have time to debate the risk of defying her. Already her patience is thin.
“I said step away from the demon,” she booms. Golden light flares in her hands. The surrounding priestesses all follow suit, prepared to strike.
Now one thing is certain. There won’t be time to conjure a wind spell to sever Natharius’s hands and for him to regain his magic. I’ll be blasted apart with light magic long before then.
I take a step away from the Void Prince and raise my hands, though I certainly don’t put down Father’s staff. “I can explain.”
The High Priestess doesn’t want to hear whatever sorry excuse I can come up with. Her brow creases with fury. “When I sensed my ward being broken,” she says, her voice carrying through the dungeons, “I did not expect to findyou. We healed and fed you. We showed you kindness, and yet you repay us by freeing a demon of the Abyss?”
“I have my reasons—”
“There are no reasons to excuse unleashing a demon on our city. Do you know how many innocent lives your actions put at risk?”
“You don’t need to fear him raging terror through your city,” I say. “No innocent lives are at risk. This demon is strictly under my control.”
Apparently that’s the wrong thing to say. Ahelin’s golden eyes sharpen. “You are the one who summoned this demon. The one to whom it is tethered. I thought it strange for a demon to be strolling our streets without its summoner in sight, but not once did I consider that a Mage of Nolderan would be responsible. Though the magic you wield is much different to ours, I have always considered the magi to be noble folk. How wrong I was.”
“You don’t understand. Nolderan is gone. What other choice did I have?”
“Lies! The story you told us earlier this evening, all of it must be lies! Upon reflection, such news is too shocking to believe. How can Nolderan, a city which has stood for over a millennium, cease to be overnight?”
“It’s the truth!”
“No. What I believe is that you came here to gain our trust and infiltrate our ranks, all so that you could unleash this demon upon our city. I do not know your motives, witch, but I do know that you will not succeed. The Mother will ensure your failure.”
What can I say to convince her that Nolderan’s fall is the truth? That I summoned Natharius out of desperation?
I turn to the Void Prince, wondering if he might have anything to add, but he only smiles at me. Of course, he’s pleased that I’m surrounded by countless priestesses and must face them alone. Ahelin seems enraged enough to kill me where I stand, and then Natharius will be freed from our bond, and I will get to enjoy an eternity of torture at his hands.
Wonderful.
“Surrender,” Ahelin demands. “Come peacefully. I have no wish to fight you, but I will if I must to protect the people of Esterra. Do not force my hand.”
The magic radiating from all the priestesses glows brighter at her words.
Right now, it looks as if I only have two choices: to fight or to surrender. Will I be able to defeat all these priestesses, some of whom appear to have been practicing light magic for longer than I’ve been alive? Most likely not. But do I plan on surrendering? Not at all.
I could try to free Natharius, but it’s unlikely I’ll manage in time. And now that Ahelin knows I am his summoner, she would rather kill me and banish him back to the Abyss than risk Natharius storming her city. I can’t waste my first move. Whatever I choose, it has to stack my pitiful odds in my favor.
Fortunately, I have just the spell in mind.
I cast as quickly as I can, weaving together all my strands of aether, and I speak the spell-word only at the very last moment, when the spell is almost birthed.
“Speculus.”
Four bolts of aether radiate from me. They take physical form, manifesting into mirror images of myself.
The most I’ve ever conjured at once is two clones. I wasn’t sure I’d succeed at creating double the amount I was taught to at the Arcanium, and sustaining them will require much concentration. The fact the spell worked exactly as I intended is either out of sheer desperation, luck, Father’s staff—or all of the above.
Ahelin doesn’t hesitate to launch her magic at me, calling outmizarel. Her priestesses take that as their signal to strike, and beams of golden light hurl at me from every direction.
“Laxus,” I cry before they can reach me. All my clones teleport with me to the corners and far walls, where the paths of light can’t reach us. The beams follow a straight trajectory and don’t curve around to us.
I begin casting as soon as I materialize. Ahelin and her priestesses only begin preparing their next spells a moment later, briefly confused by my teleportation spell. Hopefully they have no idea which of the five Reynas I am. By their expressions, they all seem to be intent on striking any one of me and hoping they get lucky. A few are looking at the real me. At least Ahelin herself isn’t.
“Folmen,” cry all my clones and I.
Violet lightning bolts at the nearest priestess and jumps to the next, forming a chain. All my clones mimic my spell, sharing a portion of my strength. The power is evenly distributed, meaning the priestesses won’t be able to identify which among them I am. It does, however, mean each individual bolt isn’t as powerful as if I were to cast it without my cloning spell. Only a few priestesses are struck multiple times, enough to daze them. But my aim was to divert their attention and force them onto the defensive.
