Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

Five days went by, and on the morning of the sixth day, Alaric woke up to stretching exercises. His stretching routine had changed dramatically, featuring a complex, inhuman choreography, forged from the Dance of the Sword and mixed with a dash of teleportation. Long story short, he was stretching in more than one place at a time in a fit to remind his body of its functions.

His teleportation had gotten so precise now that he didn't need to overthink it. He was fine with teleporting onto moving targets. Unfortunately, five days was still not enough time for him to become a professional, so the speed of the moving object had to be one he could keep up with. His precision was amazing, but it dropped if he wasn't looking at where he was going.

He could also teleport into places he couldn't see, but had no idea how or where he would end up once he got there. This part was doable considering he could feel all of space while using this power, and that included space he couldn't see with his own eyes.

There were limitations, but in his defence, abandoning logic wasn't the easiest of tasks, and that was a condition for mastering this ability.

According to Dara'k, Alaric was being held back by the need to think through his actions rationally. The Eagle struggled to understand how Alaric thought calculating the movement of objects made sense. Heaven-Crested Eagles, from the moment they learnt how to fly, were always using their abilities the way they felt they should be used. Nothing was calculating about it.

In the end, the two settled on the fact that Alaric had grasped a sliver of the concept enough to make the power usable.

The boy finally came to a standstill, mist rolling off his body as he panted heavily. The cold air blew away his sweat and replaced it with soothing dew. Here and there, Alaric could see the cracks in the mountain wall, the shattered boulders and fallen debris that had been caused by his training, the bigger signs of destruction having been caused by his guardian's blows.

[ You've grown stronger. ] Alia whispered into his mind.

[ Not strong enough to face a Dark mage of the Steel Rank. ] Alaric replied with a sigh.

The guardian chuckled in his mind, [ You've grown strong enough to run from him, and that's all the power you need for this battle. I will step in if things escalate. ]

It was comforting to know the guardian would come to his rescue, but the fact remained that this was only possible if Alaric was able to cast an S-grade Concealment Barrier. He took a deep breath and let his body shiver just a bit, 'No pressure at all!'

Dara'k, who had been asleep, stretched his wings and yawned loudly before shaking his feathers. Aether rolled off the waking eagle in chaotic torrents.

"Good morning, Dara'k," Alaric greeted with a smile. He noticed once again how significantly golden the Eagle had become since coming to the Barren Mountains. Each night, he woke up with more gold in his feathers than white. His aether had grown more potent, and Alaric couldn't tell whether the bird had grown bigger or not.

Aether poured off the bird in massive torrents before Dara'k turned to Alaric, "Good morning, Protector."

Alaric nodded and shifted his attention to his Storage Bracelet. During the free time in between training sessions or even at night, Alaric had taken time to ask the Keeper's Almanac several questions and had discovered a few interesting things.

First off, some items in his bracelet had never made sense before, but now he knew what they were. A few runestones, pills and elixirs had been placed in his Storage Bracelet by the Tower, and now he knew what they were.

Shuffling through the bag, he felt his heartbeat rise. Inside were three green glowing bottles. Healing Elixirs. They looked a lot like the elixirs he found in Old Thai's shop. There were others meant to stage off fatigue, boost his agility and other abilities. All things considered, his Storage Bracelet was starting to seem more valuable than the gold contained within it.

Elixirs aside, Alaric found the pills even more difficult to interpret.

Pills were decorated with unique colourful patterns that denoted their purity and purpose. Powerful alchemists were able to make what was known as High Star pills and elixirs. For fear of too much information, Alaric asked his guardian to summarise the system for him before getting a grip of how things stood.

Seven Temper Ranks and thus Seven Stars.

Pills, weapons, elixirs and artefacts were all graded using this system to denote their quality and strength, with One-Star items being equivalent to Glass Rank and Seven-Star items being equivalent to Divine Rank.

Sometimes that logic translated directly to a Wood Rank not needing One-Star armour to protect themselves, and sometimes, it did not, like how a Three-Star Healing Elixir, which was sufficient enough to heal all wounds, cuts and bruises off anyone with next to no regard for their rank. Such an elixir, however, remained incapable of healing except torn muscles, broken bones, lost limbs or bringing someone back from the brink of death.

Alaric's research had gone well, indeed. He now knew of his Four-Star healing elixirs and much more he carried in his Bracelet. Before he could continue admiring his goods though, the atmosphere was suddenly filled with the sound of heavy wingbeats inviting a pair Alaric wasn't expecting this early.

"Alaric!" Scarlett's voice called out to him from atop a majestic Heaven-Crested Eagle. The girl jumped off the eagle's back while Kair'ak started to glow a brilliant white. She landed in her human form, walking behind the former assassin with a measured gait.

Alaric took a calm breath and asked, "What happened?"

"It's Melbourne. The whole city is covered in a Containment Barrier. But the magic, it's dark," the girl responded. At that point, Sariah and LionHeart were just getting done with packing the tents and all their belongings, including the Storm Orbs.

Alaric ground his teeth in thought, "Looks like he decided to trap everyone inside."

"Yes, he did. And there is no telling what they will do if we don't give them what they are looking for," Scarlett responded.

At that point, a smirk bloomed on Alaric's face. "Then we give them what they are looking for."

…………………

Moments later, three Heaven-Crested Eagles and a white flying lion took to the skies, rising high above the Barren Mountains. Higher and higher they went until they could peer past the undulating mountains and gaze at a small village in the distance.

Alaric's eyes shone with magic. He'd expected to see a village growing out of the Barren Mountains with its exposed side walled off by a curving line of wooden tree trunks sharpened at the top to create a powerful fence.

What he saw, however, drew a gasp out of him. A dense purple dome so large it covered the entire Purified Zone and then some. A thick, dark mist covered the woods, spreading dark magic's corruption through the woods, poisoning the air.

Through the dome, Alaric spotted battered carriages, crashed and stomped on. Dead demons among human corpses lay strewn about in the commotion surrounding the city. Broken swords and beaten shields also lay within the mess.

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There was a line of adventurers and guards standing on towers built behind the heavy wall, shooting all manner of magical and non-magical projectiles at the demons that were still scrambling to get to the wall.

Every once in a while, a volley of spears wreathed in glowing magic rained down on the battlefield, purifying a small chunk of the corruption threatening to overwhelm the city.

It wasn't enough.

The Holy Barrier was down, and the City was struggling against the demons trying to overrun the city. This struggle seemed to have been going on for a while, too, and the humans were losing.

From this high up, Alaric's enchanted vision spotted tents built just beyond the wall to help the men recover between shifts. Refreshments were constantly restocked while low-grade elixirs came and went even faster than the water supply. This was all to maintain the small fighting force that was keeping the demons at bay.

If they could hold out long enough, it was possible to eventually kill all the demons, even with their small supply of holy magic, but Alaric knew better.

He glanced back and saw scattered black dots all the way to the horizon, progressing slowly, but making their way to this one location.

'There is no end to them,' he thought to himself.

"What could be calling those demons to Melbourne?" Alaric asked the others over the wailing wind.

Scarlett, who was currently riding on top of Kair'ak, shrugged, "A large mass of exposed human souls, the insane amount of dark magic in the area, the absence of a holy barrier, I don't know. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if they were attracted to the Dark Mage."

"Alaric, we can't just leave them there," Sariah spoke out. She was also sitting on top of a Heaven-Crested Eagle as powerful as Kair'ak, a last-minute addition named Grun'am, courtesy of the High Sentinel himself. Grun'am happened to be Kair'ak's brother and was more interested in fighting than his sister was in healing.

"You're right, Sariah," LionHeart answered, "But helping them now will only alert the soldiers of our return. Let's get the girl first."

"How do you plan on doing that?" Grun'am snorted, "That's a Containment Spell cast by a Steel Rank Dark Mage. It will let you in, but it won't let you out."

"My spatial ability should be able to escape it," Alaric shrugged, flying off the fact that he didn't sense trouble in escaping the purple dome.

"That's a gamble," Grun'am argued, "If it doesn't work, then you're last option will be to find a way to break the Dark Mage's focus. He's of the Steel Rank, so if you must confront him, do not do so directly or you'll be dead in a heartbeat."

Alaric nodded right as they came above the city. The Eagles rose above the clouds for cover and coupled this with a cloaking spell to ensure that they were well-hidden.

Alaric stood up on his Dara'k's back and began reciting a chant he'd crafted recently. This particular spell was essential for the success of this mission, and while it was perfect, it would have to do for today.

"I invoke the constellation of Knowledge and Revelation: Delphi, conceal my presence to all but I, deceive all senses of those who might perceive me: Shroud."

The spell was rough around the edges and required a lot of aether, but with Alaric's aether reserves, that wasn't a problem. He could still feel his influence on the world and how he destabilised the aether in the air, and yet, he could also tell that it was no longer focused on his body specifically.

It was exactly what he needed. Something to shroud his body.

He took a step forward and dropped, angling himself downward into a nosedive. Unseen by all, his body gained a few azure lines as he tapped into SwiftWind's form and abilities. The wind gained purpose and worked for him, taking him down even faster, aiming for a single location: The Sisters of Fragrance.

He plunged through the Dark Barrier and resisted the urge to cough as the corrupted air entered his lungs, only to be eradicated by his pure aether.

As he plummeted, he sent thoughts to a particular white fellow standing anxiously inside his In-Between, "You know what to do."

The white figure, a perfect copy of Alaric, nodded, "No pressure!" Then, the clone stepped out of the In-Between.

……………………………

The City of Melbourne had gone deeply silent except for the distant echoing cries of the fighting adventurers and their guardians. Doors were closed, restaurants had stopped working, the market was empty, the orphanage was on lockdown—steel doors barring entry with a translucent protective dome shimmering with magic.

All that, and plenty of other things, had happened, all to ensure the safety of the people who lived there. It was not rare to find adventurers or guards dressed in full armour standing outside houses of rich individuals who'd hired them for protection, along with their guardians.

Towering beasts with fangs, claws, magic and any other form of mystical weaponry designed to keep their masters safe could be seen in front of people's houses, right behind protective barriers.

Merchant Cities were known for their bustling business and that explained the deep pockets of the folks who lived in Melbourne. Most were willing to pay several gold marks just to make it out of this calamity alive.

Deep inside Melbourne, the city held its breath, as though a single sound would cause it to go up in flames and be wiped off the face of the Valerian continent.

The air was tense everywhere except for one place. The tallest building in the town of the upper echelons of this esteemed Merchant City, The Sisters of Fragrance. Known for selling rare alchemical ingredients and flowers, the Sisters of Fragrance was home to the Matriarch, the most powerful woman in the city.

It was also the building currently surrounded by a retinue of soldiers armed to the teeth and decorated in vermilion colours. In the middle of all these men stood a man dressed in black clothes covered in gleaming scales.

This man was the reason Alaric's friends had tried to talk him out of this mission. He was the reason Melbourne was on its last legs, as well as the one behind the large barrier of dark magic closing off the city from the rest of the continent.

At the man's feet, a man of the Stone Rank knelt, battered and bleeding to the point where he was nearly unrecognisable.

Avaros lifted him by his hair, a fair blonde that was now tainted with blood and something… black. "You said… he would be here. The girl, too."

"I said…" the man coughed, letting up even more blood tainted with black, "…nothing of the sort. I said the Sisters of Fragrance sells rare flowers."

"Did you?! It's been five days and I know what's left of your feeble mind can barely string up a sentence, but my patience grows thin, Byron," Avaros spoke calmly but every word was laced with enough venom to make a snake hide its fangs, "I'll give you some credit, though. You're pretty tenacious for vermin."

Byron chuckled to himself, "What do you fear, Dark Mage? Judgment. Death. Powerlessness. Perhaps you fear the name sung by the aether itself. I've seen it. His power."

"Pitiful to think I'd believe the words of a man who didn't know how to use a Teleportation stone," Avaros growled before thrusting his fist into Byron's stomach.

The fist connected with the force of a mallet striking a brick wall, sending a powerful shockwave in all directions. The punch had enough force to turn a human into a bloody mist, but Byron was Stone Rank. His body held, if only just barely.

The Dark Mage dropped the coughing man to the ground and kicked him with enough force that he flew into the road, landing in a roll that left a trail of blood.

The Dark Mage walked up to him and started kicking him repeatedly. "When… I… ask… for… something…" He breathed heavily with each kick, "I… want… it… DELIVERED!!!"

With the last kick, Byron's body was sent shooting across the road and into the wall of the opposite building.

A barrier roared to life at the sudden intrusion and sent bolts of electricity through the blonde slayer before he went still, knocked unconscious by the unbearable pain.

Avaros looked at the unconscious man with a sour look. "Why do they break so quickly?"

The commander, still standing back with the other Red Cloaks, stared at the beaten man's body with a smirk, "Because they are weak and useless. They know nothing of Aether Manipulation or Reinforcement. That's vermin for you."

"Right you are, commander," Avaros replied, "Right you are. Bring me one of those maids… I need to question them next. Who knows? Perhaps he'll break once he sees the kind of damage their lesser bodies can take."

Silence followed the order, prompting Avaros to look back at the frozen soldiers. It was obvious none of them had expected him to give such an order. The commander lifted his hand, most likely to offer an alternative, only for Avaros to snap, "ARE YOU DEAF?"

"Not at all," the Commander tried to shake his nerves, but failed, horror writing itself neatly in his eyes. He turned to the others and started barking orders, "You, hurry up… Yusa, Roan, make yourselves useful…"

The dark mage watched them with a bewildered expression on his face. Did they not know who he was? To defy a direct order from one as high and noble as him. They had barely reached the entrance when a voice stopped them in their tracks.

The atmosphere changed, and the sun seemed to shine brighter. For just a moment, it was easier to breathe. For troublemakers, such a feeling only brought dread.

"My, my! It's been forever since I last laid my eyes on a group of unsightly barbarians," a voice filtered into the vicinity. "Such animosity! True to its core."

Avaros's face lit with a twinkle of wickedness in his eyes, "Now we are getting somewhere. Reveal yourself, Alistair, if that's even you're real name."

Alistair walked out of an alley not far from Byron. His Face Mask was on, so he looked like Alistair in this moment… and yet, the air took on an unnatural change, responding to his presence.

It was a shift that was impossible to ignore. Not the tyrannical one felt in the presence of powerful beings, but the kind that made it feel like the world itself was turning to witness the presence of someone it couldn't ignore.

That influence clashed with Avaros's tyrannical version, and the aether in the air hummed like a siren, dangerous, low and inviting.