Chương 71: Rank 8

Elder Molric hummed quietly to himself while tracing the air with his fingers to create a series of crimson energy lines that hung suspended like fine strands of silk. His runes were complicated and much more intricate than any he would teach the initiates.

"Yes, yes," Elder Molric mumbled, drawing another series of connected runes.

"The matrix for growth needs to match up perfectly with the consciousness model. No more incidents like last time... poor thing thought it was a dragon for three days straight." Around him were various half-finished experiments and a variety of odd equipment; however, for once Elder Molric was fully engrossed in one task.

"Now for the tricky part," he declared to no one in particular. His hands moved quickly and drew dozens of runes into complex patterns, as the individual runes merged into something larger. When the runes converged, it seemed as if reality was bending or warping. The air shimmered like heat waves off sun baked stone and a pleasant, floral scent wafted through the laboratory. In the center of the convergence, something began to form.

It wasn't an energy construct; it was actually organic material being formed from pure runic energy. The stems formed first and created a solid base for the structure. The leaves sprouted evenly, and symmetrical sensory clusters developed throughout. The final product was a plant vine unlike any found in nature; it was very similar to the one that had followed his student, but with its own distinct characteristics.

While his student's plant companion was predominantly green and had a hint of silver, this plant had a subtle pattern of crimson that flowed through its veins like water. Elder Molric stepped away to examine his work and nodded his approval.

"Good, not bad at all. Now then..." he took a deep breath and gathered his power. When he exhaled, the breath he released contained red sun energy along with fragments of consciousness. The plant shuddered from the energy and its leaves quivered, and the crimson patterns in its veins began to pulsate like a heartbeat. Although it couldn't communicate verbally, its actions became more deliberate and aware. It turned towards Elder Molric and seemed to question him with a movement.

"There we go!" Elder Molric exclaimed, clapping his hands in excitement.

"Hello, welcome to existence, little one. I am your creator; although I think you may have already guessed that, haven't you?" The vine bobbed in a gesture that was recognizable as a nod, and the tip curved into a gesture that conveyed a sense of respect and curiosity.

"Now, we have to have a conversation about loyalty," Elder Molric's expression became somber, "you have to be loyal to your creator, do you understand? My previous student abandoned me for a new mentor. Can you believe it? Abandoned me for my own student!" The vine instantly tied itself into knots - in the language of living plants, this represented an unbreakable bond. The message was clear: it would never betray its creator.

"Ah, so confident!" Elder Molric's expression softened into a warm smile; however, he quickly returned to a serious expression.

"Only make that promise after you see my student. He has a way with plants, that one. He will probably seduce you as well! The boy has barely mastered his own talents, and he is already stealing my creations..." The vine unwound itself and tilted its tip in a manner that indicated it was confused. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Elder Molric dismissedly waved his hand.

"Now, let us move on to more important things. The first lesson is learning to channel the red sun's energy." Elder Molric drew a simple rune in the air: one of the basic patterns he taught his initiates.

"Look at this? This is the foundation of all runic arts. The secret to all runic arts isn't just drawing the symbol but understanding how the energy flows through each line. Try drawing it yourself." The vine examined the rune floating in front of it, and then it attempted to draw the same shape using its tip. Red energy flickered around it as it attempted to create the correct shape... However, it collapsed in a faint pop of energy. Elder Molric prepared to give some advice, but suddenly he stopped.

His eyes focused on something distant, through the walls of his laboratory to something far beyond the walls. The playful eccentricity disappeared from his expression and an intense focus appeared that would have surprised those who only knew his usual personality. Without saying a word, he disappeared.

High above the Academy, a group of figures floated in the air. The elders of the Order of the Last Light stood like statues and their faces were stern as they watched the wall they had built over the millennia, a wall that they had believed to be impregnable, dissolve.

"Impossible," Elder Jirok, the Master of Formations, muttered, running his hands through his normally immaculate white beard in agitation.

"There is no possible way they could have discovered a method to get passed our barrier. The formations are perfect! There must be a traitor!" A minor disturbance in the air marked Elder Molric's appearance as he stood beside them.

"How serious is it?" Elder Avery turned to address him, her flame red hair whipping wildly in the wind.

"From the upper realms, they have sent two Rank 7 practitioners. And..." She paused and her expression turned darker.

"Two Rank 8s."

"Two Rank 8s?" Elder Molric's eyes expanded in shock. One practitioner of this rank was rare enough to alter the balance of power between sects. Two was frankly unimaginable. Elder Jun nodded.

"It appears that demon Kal has broken through once again." He spat the name like a curse.

"I told you that we should have eliminated him weeks ago when we had the opportunity."

"Elder Leo tried to do that," Elder Avery replied.

"And now look at him, he's dead. Who would have thought that a Rank 5 could kill a Rank 7?" She shook her head.

"The boy's talent was nothing special, yet all of a sudden, he has broken through multiple ranks as thou—" They were interrupted by an unseen presence that even these transcendent beings fell silent in the face of. A person simply appeared before them. There was no flash of light, no grand entrance. One moment there was nothing, just empty air, the next stood among them as if he had always been present. The Headmaster looked young; far too young to wield such great power.

His hair was the same shade of fresh blood as the red sun, and his eyes were the same shade, but they seemed clearer than any other practitioner of the red sun's arts. While others showed evidence of the madness that results from wielding such great power, his eyes were piercing and focused. He wore simple red robes, yet the depth of their design was impossible to see without causing the mortal eye to strain. Perhaps most notable was his lack of presence.

While the elders each radiated immense amounts of energy, the Headmaster seemed to radiate none at all. They may have questioned whether or not he was truly there, if not for the fact that their eyes confirmed his existence. The elders immediately bowed their heads in respect. The Headmaster did not acknowledge them, instead, he stared directly at the red sun above.

"The academy existed before Kal was in his mother's womb," the Headmaster said finally.

"And it will continue to exist long after he is nothing but dust." The elders nodded, although several of them exchanged glances that suggested they were not completely convinced.

"Elder Avery, take the eastern quarter. Elder Jirok, the western quarter. Elder Jun..." The Headmaster continued giving orders, but he stopped when he realized one of the elders was not paying attention. Elder Molric was standing apart from the rest of the group, his head tilted as if listening to something only he could hear. Another vine had appeared next to him, not one of his recent creations, but one designed to be some sort of messenger.

"Elder Molric," the Headmaster called, his voice cutting through whatever communication was taking place.

"What is wrong?" The usually energetic happy-going elder turned slowly, the color had drained from his face, and for the first time in centuries, the Headmaster saw real grief in the elder's eyes.

"My student," Elder Molric whispered.

"He... he's dead."