August Intruder [SOL Progression Fantasy]

Slight rage built up in Melmarc as Veebee continued to call out to him. He turned each time, searching for the source of the voice. He found nothing, Only darkness looked back,

Ark stood patiently, waiting for him.

It took around two minutes before Melmarc's annoyance built up completely and he ignored the voice. What had he been thinking? That he would find a creature that existed within the portal inside Fallen High?

It was nothing but an illusion. An illusion that had succeeded in annoying him. Still, the illusion had just taught him something.

He missed Veebee. He missed how the void beast sounded like a child when it pretended to be cute and how it sounded like an adult being forced to put up with a particularly dumb child when it spoke in its normal voice, using its normal lexicon.

One thing was certain, he did not like the feeling.

He turned to a still patiently waiting Ark. "Burn it."

Ark hesitated.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, it's not like shadow fire is a common skill."

Calm down and think, Melmarc scolded himself.

He couldn't just have Ark reveal all his secrets, could he? Then again, there were other circumstances that turned the skill into something that did not have to be kept a secret.

"Your class isn't a common one either," he said, making sure that his annoyance at the darkness and Veebee's voice that still called out to him was not staining his tone.

Ark shrugged.

"Don't get me wrong," he said. "I'm not hiding it. In fact, I'm not even worried about them finding out about it. They already know my class, there's no point in keeping my skills a secret if I'm going to be admitted and learn from them. I'm just thinking about the cost of fixing anything if I break something."

Melmarc nodded. The only response he had for his brother, however, was something that he had told him not too long ago.

"They had to be expecting this," he said, voice hard. "You hit first, someone's going to hit back."

Ark was always quick to do things like this, but this time he remained hesitant, skeptical. It was almost as if he was thinking about too many things.

In the end, his expression dropped to one of resignation. "You sure?"

"Yes," Melmarc nodded. "Burn it all."

Ark shrugged. "Here goes."

He held his hand up and conjured a tongue of fire large enough to cover the entire hand. It was a bright black even in the darkness around them. It was like a natural thing mocking a man-made copy, laughing in its face.

Then, in mere seconds, the flame began to spread from his hand. It reached out from him, seeming to ignite the darkness around them. where it burned whispers of light peeked out. Melmarc saw them in different colors. Brown watched him, the wooden brown of a sturdy door. White stared like a curious child, the white of paint.

Ark, however, was uninterested in the colors peeking out from beneath the burnt darkness. Instead, his attention followed every part of the darkness that burned. He watched everything unravel. It was like watching paper burnt.

A drop of burning darkness fell next to Melmarc's feet and he ignored it.

<<Melmarc?>>

The voice was still there, a mockery of Veebee's. It made Melmarc wonder if Veebee was still waiting for him in some portal somewhere. He wondered if the Void beast was missing him. The version of Veebee that spoke with a broken lexicon and like a child made him think that it did. The version that was mature and spoke like some powerful being made him think that all it did was wait for him.

"That's quite the jump," Ark mused as the darkness finally burnt out and they were left to a room filled with students just standing, staring at nothing.

Melmarc paid the students very little attention. They looked unharmed to him, simply transfixed within some mental illusion.

"You stretched your arms out when were in the dark, right?" Ark asked, waving his hand in front of one of the boys. It was the boy Melmarc had grabbed before he'd hit the ground when they had entered the building.

Melmarc nodded, standing in front of one of the girls. She wore pig tails tied with blue ribbons. "I did."

"Then how come you didn't hit anybody?" Ark asked.

"Not sure." Melmarc looked at a girl whose finger twitched. "Spatial distortion?"

Melmarc didn't know. What he did know was that the students around him weren't moving. Had everything been in their mind? If the answer was yes, then how had they been together? Had the test just lumped them into one mental illusion. There were [Telepath]s and [Illusionist]s that were capable of affecting only specific people even in a crowd.

"Mel."

"Yes, Ark?" Melmarc didn't look away from the girl. Her eyes were moving behind her closed lids.

REM sleep? He pondered. He wasn't sure how exactly mental illusions worked. Although, there were shows that showed it.

"You know we kind of sort of failed this test, right?" Ark said.

That was enough to draw Melmarc's attention away from the girl.

"How?" he asked.

Ark tapped something on the door that was clearly the exit. There was a small parchment there, like old parchment used in medieval movies. There were names on it. Beside it, seemingly attached to the wall was a pen.

When Melmarc joined Ark, he realized that their names were placed one above the other. On the second column of the parchment was a single question. Why couldn't you get out?

"I don't think we were supposed to get out," Ark said. "At least not the way we did. I think the illusion was supposed to do something to us."

With the memory of Veebee's voice in his head, Melmarc couldn't bring himself to care. His annoyance wasn't from the fact that he missed Veebee, it was from the fact that it felt like someone had intruded on his privacy. His experience with Veebee was his and his alone. It was private.

Melmarc shrugged. He was about to give an answer when he realized something. He held both hands up in front of Ark.

Ark looked at them with a confused expression. "What?"

"We left the room with a pen and paper," Ark said. "We don't have any pen and paper."

Ark looked down at his hands as if he expected his to still be there. They weren't.

"That's so cool," he muttered.

Melmarc was about to say that there was nothing cool about it when he changed his mind. Instead, he took the pen on the wall right next to the parchment and answered the question in the space next to his name.

Why couldn't he get out? The answer to that was a no brainer, and he put it down before handing the pen over to Ark.

Ark looked at his answer and almost laughed. Without missing a beat, he scribbled down his own answer before attaching the pen back to the wall. With that sorted out, they both left the room, leaving the other students behind.

Their answers said the same thing.

I could.

…

The next room was something of an amphitheater. Melmarc and Ark came through the door at the top of the elevating circle of chairs with a small space at the center. Interestingly enough, they found some students at the center. Melmarc counted three of them, and they stood with an adult. He assumed the adult was an instructor of some kind.

Ark leaned into Melmarc. "Next, we fight to the death," he joked.

Normally, it would be a cool joke if he wasn't still in a bad mood. Someone had messed with his mind, and he didn't like it. He didn't have a memory of such a thing happening before. Not even Uncle Dorthna had done it.

The room was massive, illuminated by dancing orbs levitating close to the pitch-black ceiling. Currently, the orbs cast the room in the glow of the afternoon sun, just the right amount of yellow.

"How long do you think it will take them to notice us?" Ark asked, leaning against one of the chairs. Despite the amphitheater look. The seats were styled like what you would expect from a lecture hall.

"Not long," Melmarc said.

Down below, the instructor was already looking up at them with a curious expression. He was a large man. A barrel-like chest stretched his blue tee until it was so tight Melmarc wondered how it was still intact.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He had sharp blue eyes, so sharp that Melmarc could see it across the distance.

Still staring at them, he put a finger to his ear and said some words. As he spoke, the three students looked up, following his eyes. Two girls and a boy watched them. One of the girls looked as if she spent too much time in the gym—not big, just muscled, defined. She had flowing black hair and kind eyes.

The second girl had a viking braid, that gave her a warrior's face. She was also beautiful. You would expect to find her in a movie instead of a school. The boy was the focus, however. He looked daunting, domineering. He was easily Eroms height. Almost their fathers.

He had hard eyes, like a commanding officer who did not understand the benefits of the slightest joke amongst his subordinates—not cruel, just strict.

"Looks like the captain of a lacrosse team," Ark joked.

"A lacrosse team of body builders," Melmarc muttered, wondering why his brother had gone with lacrosse team instead of just using rugby.

It wasn't very long before the teacher took his hand from his ear. He sighed as if his plans had just been ruined somehow.

"Wanna bet we came out far too early?" Ark asked, grinning.

Wanna bet whoever set that illusion is currently confused? Melmarc thought. He still couldn't shake the anger.

The realization brought another thought to mind. What if the anger was the test?

What if they had angered him intentionally?

A common misdirection. They leave him to think that the illusion was the test while someone, perhaps an [Empath], rewire his brain into anger and see how he reacts to it.

It was a far stretch, but he couldn't put it past them. But if he was right, sending him straight into a combat test angry would lead him into making the wrong decisions which would be a new kind of problem.

Delvers, after all, needed to learn how to control themselves regardless of how they were feeling at the specific time.

He turned to Ark. "Do you feel any kind of way?"

"Might be horny."

"Be serious," Melmarc sighed. "Apart from horny."

Ark paused, gave it some thought. In the end, he shook his head. "Nope."

It seemed like he was the only one feeling some type of way. Maybe the emotion was genuinely his, after all, it was justified.

Down below, the instructor raised his hands to them.

"There's an escalator to your left, use it." He gestured to their side.

Melmarc and Ark looked. There was a hand rail beside a row of seats. As they walked over to it, Melmarc wondered why they hadn't run into Pelumi or Patience at any point in time. He would've been more than happy to spend time with Pelumi at least.

When they got to the escalator, they found an up and down button on the railing. Ark pressed the down button and the stairs turned on, guiding them down.

Ark shook his head. "Please tell me that their students aren't too lazy to actually use the stairs."

Melmarc would've argued that the descent could be stressful for people but left the matter alone as they got on the escalator.

"Any idea why we didn't see your girlfriend?" Ark asked during their descent.

Melmarc shrugged. "I'm guessing she woke up late or early."

"She didn't text you?"

"No." Melmarc shook his head. "I checked in the bus."

Ark nodded sagely. "And now?"

Melmarc reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He had a few pending messages. He squinted at it in confusion.

Why was Naymond messaging him?

Along with Naymond's, there were at least four other messages. Pelumi's message was there, too.

You've got to work on your priorities, he chided himself as his finger clicked on Pelumi's message, opening hers first instead of Naymond's, the [Sage] that was under his protection.

"She said she's outside the building that their test was delayed," he told Ark.

Ark tapped the side of his cheek in thought. "I'm guessing she woke up late and we're moving in batches?"

Melmarc guessed so too, so he nodded.

"I'm also guessing that you broke something in that first room," Ark grinned. "And you were warning me about breaking things."

Melmarc shot him a look. Ark shrugged, unbothered.

"Do you think they'll have the same issue with the illusion room?" Ark asked.

Melmarc wasn't sure how to answer that, so he said nothing and opened Patience's message. It was very much similar to Pelumi's, it just had more words. She, too, was stuck outside. Melmarc told Ark as much as they reached the ground where the instructor and the other students were waiting for them.

Ark grinned. "The two girls you know are stuck outside. Do you think they know that they know you?"

Melmarc thought about it and wasn't sure he wanted them to. Pelumi and Patience were two different types of people. Patience was more direct while Pelumi was subtle.

Ark merely shook his head at Melmarc's absence of an answer.

"School's going to be fun," he chuckled.

They stood in front of the instructor now while the students with the man stood back. The girl with the pigtails was twirling one with her finger.

The instructor took a long moment to look down at them. In the end he sighed.

"What kind of name," he said, "is Tar'arkna?"

Ark gave him a boyish grin, answering without missing a beat.

"The kind you'll never forget."

…

Aurora could not believe what was happening right now as she walked through the busy streets. People were making their word to whatever businesses they needed to get to.

She strolled, trying to affect a simple calm. The last thing she needed was for anyone to realize that she was panicking.

One of the greatest fears of the Oaths was currently happening. The Oath of Madness could not be accounted for. Madness was missing.

More worrying was the fact that Dorthna found it interesting. Dorthna rarely ever found anything interesting. When he did, it was never good.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out and placed it to her ear.

"Speak," she instructed.

There was a sigh before an answer.

"I've found something."

"Do not tell me that you've found something, Detective Alfa. Tell me what you've found."

Her contacts would've found Madness faster but the Oaths kept eyes on them. The last thing she needed was a group of panicked Oaths. Desolation had panicked for no reason and had tried to kill Madness.

For all her confidence, Aurora could not, in truth, afford to wage a war against the Oaths. She would if she had to, but it was not advisable. Even Dorthna liked to say how every world needed its Oaths.

I wonder how Desolation is doing, she thought while Alfa said things that she wasn't really paying attention to.

"… Hello?" Alfa called.

Aurora shook her head. "I was lost in thought. What did you say you found?"

"A massive estate in the area," Alfa said, unhappy to be repeating herself but not having any other choice. "Reports say that it belongs to a powerful Gifted, he's on the ranking."

If Madness was hunting, which she really hoped that he wasn't, then he would definitely be going for the powerful.

"Why did the estate stand out?" Aurora asked even though she was certain it was the location. After all, a call to Fendor was what had led her to this location.

"Well, from what I can see here, there are online reports of the estate being unreasonably quiet this morning."

"How quiet?" Aurora was already heading in the general direction of the location.

"Well, very quiet," Detective Alfa said. "There are no guards at the gates."

For fuck sake.

…

Dieter lay in a pool of his own blood. He could taste the metal tang in his mouth. It filled the air and tried to smother his lungs.

His breather was labored and difficult. It was like trying to force air through a mountain side. Accompanied by it was the discomfort of stopping himself from coughing. He knew that coughing would clear up some space to breathe better, but he fought against it.

It was like holding back a sneeze. Every breath was painful yet ticklish. In the end, he failed. His will succumbed, and he coughed.

Blood spilled from his lips, staining his chin. He would've liked to say that it stained his clothes as well, but there was already so much blood that he couldn't even tell if he tried.

Around him the entire living area was a mess. What had once been a well laid out open space with chairs and boring paint was now a mess of charred walls and items already crumbled to dust. To his left, their host was… probably dead. Dieter couldn't be sure. The arm the man had regenerated to display the ability of the [Healer] was a broken mess, but it paled in comparison to his leg.

Their host's leg was shattered with bones poking out at random places. The man who had attacked them and promised not to kill them had squeezed it like a wet cloth.

They were not the only casualties, however. The rest of the S-rankers who had come for the gathering had suffered similar fate. The intruder had ruined them and taken their confidence while he had been at it.

What hurt Dieter almost as bad as his injuries was the fact that he did not know who the man was. There existed a Gifted walking the earth with abilities so grand that he had not even activated an external skill to defeat them.

His breathing tickled him the wrong way again and Dieter coughed up more blood. His host choked on something to his side and Dieter almost sighed in relief. The man was alive and that was a good thing.

Ignoring the chaos and the blood and the pathetic state of the ranked Delvers, Dieter turned his attention to the center of the room, there laid the [Healer].

He still remembered the question their attacker had asked him while holding him up by the neck.

"Will you heal yourself?" the monster of a man had asked in a deep baritone, tone similar to that of a curious child.

The [Healer] had nodded, then he had received grave injuries. The [Healer] continued to heal himself even now, after so many hours.

Their intruder had given him an unspoken test. He had to heal himself before any of the rest of them died from their injuries.

Cruel.

Dieter moved his hand in pain and settled it on his stomach. He had a hole in it, received from a single blow. He still couldn't believe it.

Maybe it's time to retire.

A small scraping sound creeped out from the corner. The entrance to the room. Dieter paled further than his lack of blood was supposed to be able to allow.

Flashes of the battle filled his head. He started hyperventilating. He could feel his fear. It grabbed him and begged for attention.

Please no.

A drop of tear spilled from his eye, finding its way down the side of his face. They were in no position to defend themselves.

I knew this was going to happen, he sobbed. Their attacker had left them alive, but the way he had fought them had been too arrogant, unpredictable and cruel for a person possessing of kindness.

I don't want to die, he cried, as he turned and started dragging himself along the ground with one arm.

Pain from the action coursed through his body but his sense of self-preservation muted the pain.

Fear was proving itself to be a powerful motivator.

"Fuck."

The word came out low and small. It was a sigh. Dieter heard worry in it. Panic, too. It was preceded by footsteps.

Dieter dared to stop dragging himself along the ground. He allowed his body to rest as he listened to the footsteps of whoever their new guest was.

He waited as she moved from one body to the other, checking on pulses and the likes. After a while, the person moved to the [Healer] at the center.

"You must be a [Healer]," the person said. It was a female voice.

Dieter did not hear what the [Healer]'s response was.

"Not enough mana to heal yourself fast enough," the woman said, observing not asking. "Here, have this. You should be up and running in no time… please don't say what you're about to say. I see vengeance in your eyes, and something tells me that if you say what's on your mind, I will not be willing to let you leave this place alive. So keep your thoughts to yourself. Got it?"

There were no verbal responses, but the woman spoke again.

"Good."

Dieter's fear had returned. Their guest was on their opponent's side. She wasn't here to save the day.

"Fuck," he groaned as someone moved him, turning him on his back.

"I'm really hoping that you're the healthiest because I'm supposed to find you alive," she said, squatting down next to him.

Healthy? Dieter thought. It was the wrongest word to use for any form of description regarding him.

Dieter's breathing came back faster. Hyperventilation teetered at the edge.

What did I do to deserve this?

"Calm yourself and listen," the woman said as if she was uninterested.

Dieter tried, focusing his attention on her eyes. She had interesting eyes. Hard but not cruel.

"Do I have your attention now?" she asked.

Dieter tried to nod, succeeded, and groaned in pain. He was just realizing that his jaw was broken in at least two different places. He was about to ask himself how it had happened since their assailant had not punched him in the face when he remembered the reason.

Their assailant had, at one point, picked Ronan by the leg and begun swinging him around like a club.

The entire ordeal had been like fighting against some overgrown gorilla that had been taught how to fight like a person but still possessed its animal brain—vicious, cruel, powerful, and unpredictable.

"Now, this is very important," the woman said. "Where did he go?"

Dieter would've spoken if he could, but he didn't have to. In response to her question, he looked past her to the ceiling above.

The woman gave him a confused look before finally looking up at the ceiling.

A massive, gaping hole that revealed the sky stared right back at them.

The woman sighed in exasperation. "How?"

Dieter opened his mouth but no words came. He left the answer in his thoughts.

He jumped.