NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1131: New Reality
At the base of the mountain range up north, where the final, cataclysmic clash between the Cultists and the Acadian Magi had unfolded, the land lay in utter ruin.
The earth was charred black and caved in upon itself, while the nearby peaks had collapsed into jagged heaps of stone. For miles around, there was nothing but scorched wasteland.
The black flames, at some point, had been snuffed out, leaving behind nothing but drifting ashes… the remanants of the tens of thousands of zombies consumed within them.
In the aftermath of this ruinous battlefield that reshaped the entire topography of the lands north of Ravenfell, three figures could be seen… four, if one counted the charred corpse of the Emperor Emeritus.
Berger knelt on the ground, weeping silently as he held Gerald's lifeless body in his arms. Blackie remained standing by his side, his head hung low. Finally, there was Balthazar. He gazed at the charred corpse with a melancholic look in his eyes.
"Damn you, old man…" The gnome muttered under his breath as tears trickled down his face.
He knew that if it wasn't for Gerald and Blackwood's final magic protecting them, they would have most certainly been dragged to the dark pits of the Underworld. If not, in the best-case scenario, they'd be grievously injured.
The self-detonation of a Mana Core Magus was just that devastating. Not to mention, there were two…
Balthazar looked at Gerald's lifeless body, tears welling in his eyes. He had known the man for a long time. In many ways, Gerald had been a father-figure to him. Back in his youth, when he and Lucian often traveled the world together, his paths had crossed with Gerald countless time.
And now to see the man in such a state brought out overwhelming sorrow from deep within Balthazar's heart. He raised his head, gazing at the first rays of the sun slowly lighting up the dark night, and softly said:
"Twelve hundred years… He inherited the Empire from his father, strengthened it, and made it flourish before passing it on to Lucian. A proud legacy, wouldn't you say? Yes… I believe it was a life well lived. Now rise, Berger. He wouldn't want to see you like this."
Berger, however, ignored his words. He continued to sob while hugging his mentor. Out of everyone present, only Blackie could understand his pain, his sorrow, his… rage.
The Cult of Bones had stolen Berger's family a long time ago, and now they had taken away his mentor as well. Worse still, knowing that spies within the Brotherhood's upper echelons had played a hand in Gerald's death only fueled his rage.
Suddenly, a faint wave of energy swept past them, rippling outward before disappearing into the horizon. In that moment, the world changed, and a tense, unsettling silence descended upon the lands.
Something subtle and insidious was taking shape, an undercurrent that would soon alter the course of history across the entire Ulier Continent, and perhaps… even Tron.
Balthazar, who stood with a forlorn look on his face just a moment ago, suddenly found a frown shadowing his face. Soon, that frown turned into a dark scowl, his eyes blazing with anger.
He turned to Berger, who was kneeling on the ground, frozen in shock, and looked at him for a long time. At last, his lips parted and he said in a cold voice:
"Berger… did you know about this?"
The gnome's body trembled ever so slightly, his eyes wide in utter shock. There were traces of sorrow, anger, and indignation in his eyes as well, but they were all overshadowed by the sheer astonishment gripping his being.
"N-no… this… this can't be," he muttered in a trembling voice as tears trickled down his face. "H-he wouldn't… no… this… this is impossible!"
Blackie, who was standing beside him, too had a grave expression on his face. His dark eyes flickered with countless emotions, but a moment later, a hint of clarity flashed in them. It took him another moment to realize that something had terribly gone wrong.
He turned to the gnome and spoke in a grim voice, "Berger, this… something has changed. You must take this with a grain of salt. But I am certain… no, I think… I think there is otherworldly magic involved!"
Berger's body continued to tremble, his eyes wide with shock. "I… I don't know. Blackie, this… I feel like… I feel like I'm forgetting something..."
Balthazar, on the other hand, didn't share the same sentiments as Berger and Blackie. He took a step forward, his aura distorting the very air around him. Black fire danced in the depths of his eyes as he spat in a murderous fury:
"If this is true. Then, I will take care of it myself."
With that said, he ascended into the skies, turning into a streak of black fire as he soared straight towards Ravenfell.
Meanwhile, Berger remained kneeling on the ground, his mind in utter disarray as he struggled to come to terms with this new reality.
***
Saratoga Castle.
Several students, faculty members, and young Magi from other arcane institutions had gathered around Professor Mathilda Whitaker's lifeless body.
They were all mourning the passing of this steadfast guardian who protected the castle with her life, when suddenly… a faint wave of energy swept past them.
In that moment, their eyes glazed over ever so slightly, and they felt like… they had forgotten something.
It was impossible for them to recall that which they had forgotten.
Soon, the grief in their eyes gave way to confusion, then shock, before finally settling into anger.
Lisa, who was standing amongst this group of young Magi, covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Tears welled up in her eyes before trickling down her face.
She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe it at all!
"Adam, you…" she muttered in a trembling voice. "N-no… this… this can't be…"
Meanwhile, Adam's three students, who had knelt beside Professor Whitaker's cold body, found themselves shuddering in horror and shock. They kept muttering the same phrase over and over again:
"No… impossible… he didn't… he couldn't…"