I stared blankly at Daz at the mention of Syemore. How did he know about our battle? Only the Black Wolves, the three Arabella maids back at home, Ryo, and Belle knew about the true events of that day.
Did Ryo slip up and tell him? No, he would never go behind my back. But even so… If he knew, why were we fighting? Was he affiliated with him? Just what the hell was going on?
"You seem confused… Surprised even?" he said good-naturedly, tone going in and out of serenity and savagery. "Don't worry. This was something I found out on my own."
I tensed, eyes shifting back to the two Arc Slayers he held in both hands.
"When I am away, I leave one Arc Slayer behind. Always. The blade is imbued with my magic ability, which is Nullifying magic. It not only nullifies the mana and magic of those it strikes, but it also nullifies the user's ability as well." He closed his eyes like I posed no threat to him, daring, even, to pace. "I leave it in the Valley as a last resort in case the threat reaches its extremes—in this case—the Blue Phoenix Knights incident and its leader, Syemore." He opened those haunting gray eyes to me again. "I left this Arc Slayer in Belle's care as safekeeping in the Desert Kingdom. With the help of her sister Alice, she can access the room where the Arc Slayer is, with no exceptions. Upon entering the room, she may break the seal on it and then must use a spell to wield the blade. Even if it is only for a mere twenty seconds or so…"
I stared at him blankly. I didn't quite know where he was going with this… I had thought of striking first, but despite his nonchalance toward me at this time, his presence told me I would not be able to land the blow—or catch him off guard for that matter… yet.
"The point I am trying to make is"—he tilted his head as he maintained his glower—"I would have known if the seal was broken and the spell was used… and because it wasn't, I suspected someone else had broken the seal and wielded the blade of their own volition. But the fact that it was used without a user is a peculiar thing—and that's what got my attention."
He went on.
"On top of that, I investigated the scene as the Valley continues its rebuild and found the broken Arc Slayer among the wreckage. Judging by the time it was destroyed, I suspect it was destroyed earlier in the battle. And then there were the sizable casualties that occurred that were not of the Phantomdrakes doing…"
Shadows formed over my eyes as he spoke of this.
"Belle had notified me she tried to protect the citizens as much as possible with her Celestial Dome, but Syemore broke through… hard to believe, even with Forbidden magic. Her Celestial Dome is second to none; not even my Nullifying barriers can contend with that spell."
He was right. In my memories after I had come back from insanity, I remembered Syemore's cannon blast, but it only cracked the inner walls of the barrier and then bounced off into different areas around the Kingdom… What did this have to do with anything, though?
"There is only one other ability that can act just like Nullifying magic. However, unlike Nullification, it does not cancel magic—rather, it rejects it. It also has no counter… Not one that we know of at least… Not even Forbidden magic, or Nullifying magic can counter it. And that ability… is Tantra."
My head rang as if it were something I knew but could not act upon. The only thing I could think of then was a single question, What the fuck is Tantra?
"Tantra is an anomaly in our world of magic," Daz went on. "Those who have it are usually the same ones who cannot use magic at all: those who are born without it, or those who chose to suppress their own magic to attain the ability. Even so, to have one as powerful to fend off Forbidden magic and even break through Belle's magic is a rarer case… The only possibility I could think of was that there must have been a third party that could use Tantra amid that fight. And then the name Greed came up… Do you understand where I'm going with this?"
He paused, letting me answer. And I knew, but could not.
"I never understood your ability until I met with someone in Tartarus who claims you as his brother. It was only after speaking with him that I finally understood… and oh… how I felt so stupid for not realizing sooner…"
Brother? I thought to myself.
"Only Sins can use a type of Tantra that can take the form of a magic ability and act as such without the use of mana or the side effect of being nullified—even giving it physical form. Tantra is invisible, you see, but unless one is a Sin or has undergone a type of trauma that triggers its awakening, its feel is the only way to know of its existence. You're one of either."
"And what makes you think my power isn't just magic?" I asked, at last speaking—however weak my counter argument was.
"You registered your 'magic' as Copper magic, yes? Even a Grand Copper magic user would bend at the will of Forbidden magic, let alone only have the power to break through a tough wall—not Celestial Dome. If you did all of that with 'Copper magic', then you should be the Arcane King, not me."
"Okay," I said, mentally tossing that impossibility out. "Even if it is this… 'Tantra', as you say… how do you know I didn't go through my own traumas?"
"And your name just so happens to be Greed as well? What a happy coincidence," he mocked. "In any case, my main agenda for coming back to the Valley was to see if my hunch was true, and if it was"—his glare intensified, and I felt his aura once more, but it was different this time; this feeling… was like my own—"then I am here to remove the cancer."
I readied myself for battle, and his aura shredded through me. He was hostile.
"So, I will ask you one last time… and depending on your answer, I may make your death swift." He took a step, and instantly, I felt the air pressure around me thicken; it became hard to breathe. "Are you or are you not a Child of the Sins?"
There it was again—that moniker. Why was it so bitter to my ears? Why could I not answer for the life of me—even to lie about it? And even if I did lie, what was the truth? I choked on my response, unable to speak, once again. All I could do was shake my head slowly… 'no'.
Daz loosed a sigh. "You know… I really hate liars."
I blinked, and he was right in front of me. His body was in a forward dashing motion with his arms wrapped around him, the Arc Slayers, extended past his grip, ready to swing a direct cross motion. I could barely react, and there was no time to jump away—I had to dodge in place.
The Arc Slayers swung vertically, and my reflexes took over, throwing my head back and arching my body in the process.
"Good reflexes. But that won't help you much here."
He then raised the left Arc Slayer and swung down—way too fast for me to see clearly while I was still in this thrown back position.
I caught it with my palms, still bent over backwards and balancing. He flipped his right hand, reversing his other Arc Slayer, and swung inward toward me again. I forced my legs to jump in place and spun in the air opposite the direction that it attempted to slash at me; pushing the other Arc Slayer with my hands upward, I allowed space for me to flip in place.
Coming back down on the other side of his inward swing, I finally saw an opening, and readied a left hook; I threw it to his side where I thought he could not block. But right before impact, he used the wide side of the other Arc Slayer above him to block it, facing the blade downward like a shield to my strike.
The impact pushed him back a few feet, and our eyes met briefly after the short exchange from the distance between us. When he stopped, he flipped his large dual blades, repositioning himself for another attack. He stood upright first, crossing both Arc Slayers around him again, and dashed. I repositioned myself in like and bolted, right fist ready.
Just before we met, my fist coated in vantablack before the cross slash made contact. In less than seconds, I saw Daz's eyes widen at the sight of it—and it was too late to stop his attack. Our clashes met, and upon impact, both blades shattered like glass.
Holding only the hilts now, black shards dancing in the air, Daz's face reflected shock as he witnessed both his infamous blades destroyed before his very eyes. He jumped backward immediately, backflipping to a further spot—caution getting the better of him now.
"Now that's something… Guess my speculations about you are correct… You are a Child of the Sins."
Pissed, I finally retaliated, "You keep labeling me with that title like it's supposed to mean something to me… What is it you want!?"
He smirked and stood upright, answering, "In battle, fists and blades do not lie… I want you to confess!"
Two new Arc Slayers manifested by his side.
"And here I was, going to apologize for breaking your other Arc Slayer from the incident. Guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, do I?" I said, standing upright as well, with challenging eyes.
"How thoughtful." He outstretched both blades to his sides, and they resembled wings.
He dashed to his left, disappearing completely. He was immensely fast.
Speeding in every direction, I remained stationary, eyes zigzagging—the only motion I could do to keep up with him. Then, from directly above, he crashed into me with a sudden heavy swing, and I blocked it with crossed arms above my head, cracking the ground.
He disappeared again and reappeared in front of me at a low angle, spinning as he did with both blades extended outward. My arms were still above me; I was too slow to react as he struck my side. The blade made contact with my skin, shredding my jacket and shirt in the process.
Metal clashed and echoed; vantablack coating shielded me from the strike. It threw me off balance, but not enough to send me flying. He spun again, swinging both blades in the same direction—same angle at lightning speed.
The blow was heavier than the last, sending me flying to the nearest wall, crashing into it and creating a crevasse upon impact.
He stood up slowly with one blade to his side and the other propped over his shoulder, watching me. The smoke cleared while I sat within the crater in the wall, as if it were my throne. My head was down, shadows formed over my eyes, resembling some crownless king.
"Rise. We're not done yet," he commanded, head raised and looking down at me with those ominous, glowing gray eyes.
I let loose a big sigh before getting up. I grabbed onto the rubble wall I was within and used it to pull myself out, dusting my arms and legs upon standing. From behind me as I stepped out, the wall I cratered had completely repaired as if being automatically fixed.
"Not many can send me flying like that… Looks like you're not the Arcane King for nothing," I commented.
"I do what I can. I have a reputation to uphold after all," he replied, shrugging. "If I can't even cleanse a measly Sin, then I don't deserve to be called the Arcane King."
His eyes blazed, and I felt his presence shred through me once more. This was different than mana aura… I knew that now, however late the realization was.
"Okay then, pastor. Just try to cleanse me!"
We dashed again, commencing in a series of close combat upon contact. Clashes sparked, and the sound of metal rang; the smell of iron rotted the air against our exchange.
Through his dance of blades, I dodged; blocked; dodged; countered, and he skillfully did the same. This was an opponent I couldn't just fight normally, and it seemed I was the same for him. He knew the vantablack coated attacks would not only destroy his Arc Slayers, but would also do damage to him if the wrong—right kind of contact was made.
I mixed up my attacks, using regular strikes amid the black-coated ones, all in quick succession of each other. And I could sense his weariness—but he caught on quicker than I expected, matching my movements with equal exactness.
Daz found an opening, and my arms were spread out from his double parry. He drew both blades back and quickly charged them in a stabbing motion. I readied myself, hardening my core upon contact with the points, but the force sent me flying yet again. This time, however, I had meant for it to…
I adjusted myself midair before the collision with the wall, flipping myself so my boots hit first to rebound. They perched gently then I pushed off, sending a rippling shockwave from it as I flew back to him; the bricks reformed shortly after.
He dodged me, disappearing as I cratered the ground with a downward strike. When he reappeared, he was behind with another swing. I raised my left arm slightly, turning to block, suspended with my body still only with a fist to the ground. He made a feint, juking a swing with the other blade from around, right into my blind spot.
My reflexes kicked in, using the momentum of the spin to flow into a flip. It looked as if I had run upside down in the air—right leg leading, left leg trailing behind. I switched my legs, left leg now in position to land directly on his Arc Slayer from above.
My foot made contact on the wide side of the blade, shattering it again. And I was now in position with my suspended right leg to swing another kick to the side. It connected, but was blocked with his forearm that held the hilt of the shattered blade to the side of his head.
I should have coated it for that strike, but didn't, and he read me as if he knew I wouldn't. Then, came a right inward slash to the side of my head opposite him.
I blocked, also in a similar fashion, with my left forearm.
We separated. While in the air, as he jumped back, he threw the hilt of the shattered blade like a spear, reconstructing itself mid-flight, once again becoming whole.
I grounded myself, deciding not to dodge, and threw a right punch directly at the tip of the impending Arc Slayer. But then, right behind me… Daz was there. So fast, and ready to slash me from behind as the other Arc Slayer flew in the opposite direction from me.
He held the other Arc Slayer with both hands and said, almost like a lasting whisper, "Your arrogance is the reason you lost…"
Startled by his presence and barely able to make a counter or dodge, I stood there in a predicament. Though I would shatter the blade flying at me, he would still be able to strike me down from behind if I wasn't careful with my distribution. So I decided then; it was time to stop holding back.
As both blades made impact, they exploded, disintegrating against my hardened body, with one direct punch to the blade that flew at me, and with my back with his blade from behind. Daz's eyes widened as he witnessed this form—this Void Wolf form.
Vantablack coating had covered me from head to toe in less than seconds. Those infamous jagged, sharp teeth found themselves on my face, only half covering my head below my now glowing red eyes.
He stepped back, and my eyes whipped to him. Slowly, I fixed my posture, standing tall to face him directly. "Arrogance, huh?" Glowing eyes trailing a red path in the air. "Guess we share that trait."
But then, without his lips ever moving, he chanted ethereally,
"Nullifying Magic: Tartarus Cell."
Right then, the shards of the broken Arc Slayers floated in place from where they were shattered, suspended in the air for a moment before hitting the ground. A black beam traced from each of them, connecting the pieces in one swift motion. Once completed, they clanged like a shield, covering me entirely in a black pyramid-shaped prison.
It was too late. Since the moment he threw his blade, I had already been trapped in his spell…
All I could see was darkness. The place I stood was but an empty void with nothing but pitch black, and me in the center. How ironic.
Perhaps of Nullifying magic… but magic still…
I threw a punch into the void, but nothing happened. I threw another, and another, and another, but to no avail. I looked like an idiot flailing about. And then I heard Daz's voice.
"If you're trying to break out of here, I'm afraid that's not going to work."
From the darkness, he appeared, as if passing through a shadowy wall. The shadows, like smoke, enveloped him first, then faded as he arrived.
"What have you done?" I asked.
He looked at me with an innocent, confused expression, and said, "Hm? I just chanted the spell, I thought it'd be obvious."
I did nothing but glower; even if I had tried to attack, he seemed to be fully in control. My efforts would only be futile.
He shrugged. "Okay, okay… This is a place that traps magic in its deepest, darkest prison. Once cast, the very fabric of the arcane is severed within a designated area, drawing all magical energies into a singular, inescapable void… hence the name… In this place, no spell can be cast, no incantation can take root, and no force of sorcery can exist. We are all just normal beings trapped within its confines—left powerless and at the mercy of the forces beyond its shadows. It is a space devoid of everything except"—his eyes softened, then he smiled pleasantly—"the existence of man."
"How poetic," I replied flatly.
"Truth, nonetheless."
"So, that goes for you as well, then?"
"Precisely."
"Perfect."
I bolted to him, and he didn't appear to see it coming.
I dared not even to strike from behind. I was to show him the results of my training. Physical strength and speed… that was enough…
I had thought…
The second my fist had made contact with his face, it went entirely through…
What?
Daz smiled as my fist shot through him; it was like he was not really there.
"An illusion?"
He stepped to the side casually and tilted his head innocently like a child. "Oh, no… nothing like that."
He grabbed my arm, turned around, and suplexed me onto my back. I grunted at landing, actually feeling the impact.
"What the fuck?"
He gave a joyous laugh, contradictory to how he had been this whole battle, and said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you that this magic is the only type of magic that exists in this space… a no-brainer… but I digress… because it exists, it chooses to protect me, even though I cannot control it within this space."
"Magic has a choice?" I asked from the ground.
"Yes. And the ones who don't give it choice… are us mages. You see, magic is a living thing as well. I bet you never learned this in the academy?"
"I never went to school."
"Ah, then that explains a lot… but yes, magic is alive. It doesn't have a physical form or feel like other organisms… Think of magic like plants. They are alive, but cannot see, cannot speak, cannot feel. The only things plants can do are feed and just exist. In return, they produce fruit, vegetables, cleanse the air, and so on and so forth… It's the same with magic. Except instead of the nutrients for it being water and soil, the nutrients for magic is mana… So long as you have mana, it will produce for you, however—"
I was still on the ground and tried to escape from his hold, but when I did, he jabbed me in the nook of my shoulder, temporarily disabling my arm from any further use, and brought me down to another, changed hold on the ground. Guess he also was capable of holding his own magicless as well… An annoying fact.
He continued his speech as if he was only slightly inconvenienced. "As I was saying… Magic produces what its caster gives it. Hence, all the different types of magic we have, and the need for us to supply it with mana. The typical mage will usually just supply mana and have magic produce the end result, but for me… I like to give my magic a choice. Freedom to do as it pleases—to take or not to take. Because when you give something a choice, it's a form of love… You see where I'm going with this, right?"
I quite frankly wasn't… But since I was stuck here, I had no choice but to listen. I had a question first…
"Cool story. So then what about Tantra? If that is my power as you say it is, why then can I not just break free?"
"Because… I can use Tantra too."
My brow twitched at that, and he sensed my discomfort—he can use Tantra too… and yet, I still did not know what that meant.
He sighed deeply. "Seriously, Asura?" he spoke to the air then shifted back to me. "He really didn't tell you that after all this time? Some captain…"
My eyes flared in a quick rage. It was like that time with Tubolt at the Guild Meeting.
"Relax… I mean no foul play when I take a jab at him. Think of it like how your subordinates speak to one another. I bear no hatred. Only curiosity as to why…"
I calmed down a little. And I started asking myself that very same question.
"Like I said, only 'the existence of man' exists here. And I will give man one thing—the ability to produce against all odds. Those odds being magic, and the production of Tantra. That is how I am able to go toe to toe with a Sin without my magic being deterred," he said, blinking without expression as if I was supposed to know that. "Understand?"
I said nothing.
"Well then, I think we had enough fun for today, don't you think?"
He let me go then and simply knelt in front of me as I turned around to sit up. It had seemed we were done fighting. I sensed no hostility now like I had before for some reason, and so I chose not to react so brashly; I was still in his domain after all.
"Hold still now," he said as he grabbed my head and put his thumb on my chin.
"What are you—"
"I said hold still."
An unknown power surged as he chanted a single word, "Break!"
Freeing me from whatever was holding me back in speech before. A red sigil formed around my head, and an invisible marking—that I had no idea existed under my tongue—formed and then disappeared, looking like it was cracked, weakened by being in this space.
A shatter sounded from the seal as if breaking glass, and right then, I felt a rush of sudden freedom course through my body. It was as if I had escaped from a prison unbeknownst to me.
"What… What did you just do?"
Daz stood up, and the darkness we stood amidst crumbled as he did, taking us back to the underground arena we were once dueling in. "I freed you," he said.
"Freed me?"
He nodded, turning his back to me.
"So, are we still fighting?" I spoke.
He stopped walking and stood there casually. Putting his hands in his coat pockets, "Depends on your answer… are you or are you not a Child of the Sins?" he asked nonchalantly—carelessly as if to once again trigger me.
And it worked.
Pissed off at the question—the label, I shot up, still kneeling, and proclaimed with a kind of pent-up rage that only emerges after a dream. I crashed out.
"Here we go again, god-fucking-damn it. You keep asking me that. You wanna know so bad? Fine! The answer is yes. Yes, I'm a fucking Sin—Child of the Sins—whatever you want to fucking call it! But I escaped that fucking life… You know why!?"
Daz didn't move or speak. He just listened.
"That damn family… all of them are fucking monsters… I hate every single one of them. Every fucking one! I ran away because I couldn't live up to their fucking expectations… I couldn't…" My head lowered, and shadows formed over my eyes as my voice trembled. The rage grew and faded as if I were a child that could not control his temper, recalling every dreadful, Keeperforsaken memory.
"Day after day, they pitted us against each other to fight to the death. Day after day, the loser would starve in a cell while the winner would eat. Day after day, you were beaten to a fucking pulp, not only by your siblings, but by the goddamn caretakers as well—because they all thought you were weak… Funny, really… I don't even think they were human. But who am I to say? Apparently, I'm not either… I am a Sin as you say."
I sort of laughed to myself at the thought, feeling almost delusional as I was saying all this to him. I went on, "Day after day, your siblings looked at you like you were trash—the bullying turned to the point of torture as they beat you till you bled, stabbed you with rocks or sticks, or anything they could get their hands on, leaving you to rot in your cell, pissing and shitting yourself—drowning in your own salt and iron."
Daz didn't bat an eye, listening as I threw my tantrum. I could hardly believe it, but I was more surprised at the words that were coming out of my mouth than anything else.
"And then him…" I said, goosebumps spreading on my skin at the mere mention. "He let it all happen like he didn't care that his own son was going through that torture. He would meet me with a fucking smile like I wasn't crying tears of blood and would say, Do better…" I laughed hysterically; I lost my mind just repeating the words, animosity taking over me like leprosy.
I silenced my false mirth abruptly, then repeated, "Do fucking better… That was all I got. And still he wanted me to call him the Lord." I chuckled again.
Daz's silent stares became almost uncomfortable as the expression on his face changed from a ruthless blank to that of—what seemed like—empathy.
Had I truly become so pathetic?
"I thought of dying… but… when I looked outside, and I saw how everything else around us—the birds, the animals, even the wind… it was all free," I went on. "I wanted to be just like that. I couldn't get that through death… There is no freedom in a grave… well… maybe there is. Bliss, as they say, can be found in life and in death." I felt tears forming in my eyes. I had no idea why, but I wanted to cry… I bit my lip so hard I bled just before yelling,
"I JUST WANTED TO LIVE GODDAMN IT! LIVE! I WANTED TO BE FUCKING FREE!"
Silence shouted through the space. There was no other sound aside from my tireless panting.
"Is that so much to ask?"
I canted my head upward to the blackness above with wrath-filled eyes. Ironic that I have my brother's eyes then.
Daz stared at me all the while with a sad, pitied look. But the glint in his eyes seemed to give him a different impression, then. He looked almost—inspired.
I breathed heavily, contemplating at the same time. What had I said just now? Was all of this really okay for me to express? Will I be punished? Not by Daz, but by someone or something else? Just like that time with Belle, and Pride came for us…
Daz let me have the moment; his next words were something I had both anticipated and not, all in the same. And for some reason, it felt reassuring to hear. "Now that… that is the truth."
With my knees kissing the ground, I lowered my arms to my side and slowly tilted my head back to face him.
I glowered at Daz with clarity of thought racing back to finally say, "What have you done to me?"
Without a hint of hesitation, he repeated his earlier words,
"Like I said. I freed you."