Chương 30: Chapter 89: Empyrean Breaker

Ryland frowned at the interruption. The High Warden was staring at him like nothing else existed in the world save for Ryland in his Incarnation form. Meanwhile, the Oracle was still looking around as though she'd find a Calamity hidden behind one of the piles of debris.

"You're mistaken, Your Eminence," Ryland said.

"There is no Calamity nearby."

"My visions are never mistaken." She received a short look from the High Warden but pointedly ignored it.

"However, I am prone to misinterpreting their culmination on occasion, and as such, I seek clarification when that happens. Such as in this case, I am quite certain we will be dealing with a Calamity, if we aren't doing so already." Ryland controlled his expression so as not to give an inkling about his slight annoyance. He was busy dealing with one thing already. To shove yet another on top of that was frustrating to a certain extent. Yet, if the Oracle was correct, then it was a frustration worth entertaining.

For even he admitted that Oracles weren't wrong. Last time, he had suspected that she had read his history on the threads of Fate, and had therefore determined that he was worth culling. And he agreed with that assessment. Ryland was intricately tied to many Calamities. But she was saying her original reading had been a mistake. That there was more to it, and that the more was coming into being now. Where, though? Through what?

"Perhaps we may yet figure it out if we pool our knowledge," the Oracle said, now that she had found Ryland didn't have an immediate answer. Ryland nodded.

"We both lack a certain amount of context."

"Yes," she said drily.

"Such as why the most powerful mage in all of Androvia is grovelling at your feet."

"I am not grovelling," Dyron grunted out.

"This is—urgh!" The intense gravity field, several times stronger than the one on Vyrd, clamped down even harder on the Empyrean-ranked mage. Ryland and the Oracle exchanged a look. Then the Oracle began explaining things from her end. It was a pretty simple story. Ever since her meeting with Ryland on top of Sundermount, she had been reviewing her original reading about the birth of a Calamity. Fate didn't lie. It was bound to happen.

So she had turned to her ability to sense the mana of the world through what it portended. A Calamity gave way to destruction. Devastation. A battle that would leave its mark on the fabric of society long after things were settled. And it was the potential for all this chaos and annihilation that she had been hunting through mana. That hunt had led her here, where the warp in the powerful aura blanketing all of Arcoryx was rippling and spiking the most. In turn, Ryland briefly explained how he had come to be here.

The Enforcers had lured him in with the promise of a piece of himself, a piece that his adversary, Sokolo Dyron, was using to empower himself in the hopes of subduing Ryland. It was supposedly a matter of security and safety, but the chaos of battle had revealed the truth. Dyron just wanted to use Ryland as a stepping stone for his own ascension. The Oracle looked down to where Androvia's only Empyrean-ranked mage was trapped.

"To think you were the greatest advisor to Androvia for generations." The High Warden looked at her like he really wanted to say something along the lines of you're one to talk, but decorum won the day, sadly. And yet, the Oracle easily sensed that he had left something rather pointed unsaid.

"I am at least still bound to my goal of eradicating Calamities for the betterment of the world," she said with pride.

"Rather than seeking it for personal advancement."

"That is true," Ryland admitted.

"Devoutly dogged though you may be." She accepted the criticism in silence.

"Returning to the matter at hand," the Oracle eventually said.

"I believe I now know the connection. The thread of mana I have been following has clarified things, as well as the information you have provided, Marionys Ryland. It's this… piece of yourself." She sounded like she didn't quite understand, but for Ryland, things were starting to become a little clearer. A piece of himself turning into a Calamity. He had already faced such a situation before. The problem was that, back then, there had been a very reasonable explanation as to how that had occurred.

The Flourinus Order had tampered with it. As the prime suspect behind the rise of several Calamities, the chain of events had made sense even in abstract, overarching terms. But what was the reason here? The pieces of Ryland scattered across the cosmos had a natural propensity to transform into Calamities one way or another. But in every case, they needed some reason. A trigger, a source, a chain of incidents that corrupted or used their Pure Manifestation potential and led to the rise of Calamities.

So was it simply the way Sokolo Dyron had been using his piece as a conduit for greater magic the method that had allowed its calamitous transformation? Ryland wasn't quite sure. There was a way to find out for certain, however.

"Tell me, Oracle," Ryland said.

"Have you actually come upon a Calamity yet, or do you suspect it will arise soon?" She frowned just a bit, clearly trying not to take his question as an aspersion on her prophetic powers.

"I suspect the conditions for its rise are being laid out even as we speak, so even if the ascension or transformation or however you wish to frame it doesn't occur immediately, we will be faced with dire consequences down the line should we fail to act."

"Hmm."

"What do you mean by hmm?"

"I believe I can take the time to understand what is going on with the piece of myself that Dyron was using. I need to see what condition it has been left in, what sort of Glyphtech or other magical arrays or Relics it has been connected to. And once I have correctly fathomed the length and breadth of its application, then I will be able to determine just how it's become a Calamity."

"Or," the Oracle said, stepping back.

"I can simply leave and exorcise it before it becomes a Calamity in truth."

"Just as you tried doing to me?" Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. The question clearly struck her somewhere unpleasant, but she maintained her stoic expression.

"Safety is paramount, Marionys Ryland. We haven't had an uproar yet, which suggests my prediction hasn't come true, and I would like to keep it that way. Better safe than sorry."

"Even if simply ripping it out might cause other consequences?"

"Well, what do you want to prioritize?" She had a point there. Ryland looked around. Dyron was still stuck in the depression he had created. The High Warden really looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. And though the Enforcers had freed themselves from being literally frozen, they were still petrified by the circumstances.

"Allow me to handle things as I see fit," Ryland said. He spoke before the Oracle could argue.

"And if my choices lead to the rise of another Calamity, then I will deal with it as well. With no harm coming to anyone or anything." The finality in his voice brought on a silence that none of them could overcome. Even after Ryland let most of his magic dissipate to nothing. He was no longer glowing bright enough to shade the whole hall with prismatic colours, nor was his soul burning with the celestial wrath of several dozen stars. The world was no longer a series of Conceptual Glyphs at his beck and call.

Eventually, however, the Oracle voiced her own side of the matter.

"Then perhaps you will at least heed my advice to deal with it here."

"Here?" Ryland asked.

"Bring it here, where only the powerful and—" She glanced at the Enforcers.

"And the guilty will be in any danger, if there is an issue." Ryland considered the request. He had already told her that he intended to first check just how the piece of himself was being held. Only then would he draw it upon himself. But he could admit that the Oracle made a certain amount of sense. After all, there had been prior instances where pieces of him had become Calamities. He would just need to verify what capacity Dyron had set it in.

For if it was just a store of power that the Empyrean-ranked mage was stealing from, then all concerns flew out the window.

"One last thing, though, Your Eminence." He glanced at the last bit of magic he had yet to release. Dyron was still being ground into the earth of Realm 76.

"You don't mind if I deal with this man in a bit more permanent fashion, do you?" The Oracle looked down with undisguised disgust.

"The Great Gods do not bless those with such selfish notions. In my opinion, you may do with him as you wish. However, he is an important political figure…"

"That is true. You don't appear to be disheartened by his actions."

"It is nothing surprising. I have seen him at court for all my life, and he has never struck me as an altruistic paragon of honour and grace. Quite the opposite at times, in fact. This isn't entirely out of character for him at all. His benefits cannot be denied, but with a little prodding, His Honour the Prime Minister of Androvia can be shown a path out of this man's shadow."

"Hmm, I shall put temporary faith in your judgment."" Temporary?"

"Indeed." Then he waved his hand at the fallen Empyrean-ranked mage. It would have been sweetly humiliating to simply leave him as he was, but that didn't quite satisfy Ryland." [Translocate]." The earth beneath Sokolo Dyron crumbled away to nothing. He gasped, sucking in hard breaths, his magic trying to keep him from falling into the void.

"The necklace. It's nee—" Ryland's rift swallowed him whole, snapping closed over his body. He was gone. [Achievement Recognized: Empyrean Breaker You have beaten an opposing Empyrean-ranked mage despite being merely Adamantine-ranked. Rank up from Adamantine [65] to Adamantine [77]. Reward: Glyph of Soul. Glyph of Soul already discovered in possession, so Glyph of Soul evolved to Glyph of Animus.]"There," Ryland said.

"Now let us purge this Calamity you appear to be seeking."

"Not now, Ophelia," Sir Bruten was saying, uncharacteristically agitated.

"We need to get going and check the disturbance." Ophelia was struggling against, well, struggling. She had barely arrived at the Old Lake and started her investigation of the area. An hour? Maybe two? She certainly hadn't been here for longer than that. And yet, Sir Bruten had already found her and was determined to haul her away.

"Aren't there others who can investigate the issue far better than me?" Ophelia asked. He stared at her.

"I thought you were Titan-ranked?"

"Yes, but why would a Titan-ranked Mage Knight be needed for a construction accident?" She really wasn't trying to sound whiny. There was good reason for her recalcitrance. What she was embroiled in was as important as, if not more so, than investigating every potential breach in their security. Which was what she kept trying to tell Sir Bruten, just without a great deal of success.

"Do you know where this investigation leads, Sir Bruten?" Ophelia asked. She stood resolute against his seemingly implacable will.

"I've discovered the Old Lake possesses an old entrance into the Manabreak mine."

"I could have told you that if you had asked me," Sir Bruten said, failing to see the point. Ophelia went on, undeterred.

"The creator of my fake, the one I told you about, used to visit here. Not very long before this, the Vestige of the Calamity that had created the first Manabreak was stolen from the academy. Are you starting to see the links?"

"I am but we can investigate that later. Nothing has come of your issue yet, so there might not be much harm in putting it off for a day or two longer. At least until the Prime Minister departs."

"That will take forever…"

"Will you just come with me, please?" Grumbling to herself, Ophelia finally followed. She looked back at the dried lakebed surrounded by trees on most sides. Silently, she promised she'd come back as soon as she could. The disturbance that had Sir Bruten agitated didn't amount to much as far as Ophelia was concerned. Not at first. The construction where they were setting up the giant figurine of the Prime Minister was where the mess had occurred, and that was where Ophelia was led first.

The commotion was being handled by the city's Warden Mages. They had already taken charge of the situation, and one of the Senior Wardens working directly under the High Warden quickly updated the Mage Knights about the situation. The more Ophelia heard about it, the more she felt conflicted. According to the Warden, the accident had occurred when two of the spells had combined to create an unintended effect, causing much of the entire contraption to collapse.

It had fallen on several labourers, especially several out-of-city ones. They were being treated carefully by Healer Mages but there was the damage to the program to consider as well. Whatever event the city's Governor had organized with the figure of the Prime Minister was now gone. Ophelia didn't care much about that. Especially once she heard Sir Bruten's muttered comment.

"This is the third incident of the day involving immigrants from out of the city," he said in a low voice.

"Third?" Ophelia asked.

"What happened with the other two? Isn't Sir Stymphal supposed to be assisting with that?" Sir Bruten shrugged.

"Earlier in the day, one of the extra cooks brought in for the celebrations contracted an illness. Supposedly, it's a spreadable disease, so now they're all worried about it. We had to quarantine a lot of people. In the other case, a circus troupe from the countryside got into a scuffle with the man who hired them for missing payments and such." Ophelia wasn't sure what to make of all that. On the surface, they seemed like completely plausible events amidst the chaos of the last day or two.

And yet, she still felt like they were missing something … They spent over half an hour making sure everything was alright, before they finally headed off. The next step was the hub of their little security. Not the tavern where the various Mage Knights had decided to gather. Rather, they headed to the main headquarters of security set up in the field by the High Warden.

"We have received a message from the Oracle," the Senior Warden in charge of the place said.

"We have been cautioned to remain wary of proceedings."

"Why?" Even Solverfel was here, and for once, even his grin had fallen.

"What has she seen?" Were things really that dire? Ophelia had thought that everything was still mostly under control. Though, the way incidents appeared to be piling up was certainly concerning.

"We have not been given any concrete details," the Senior Warden said apologetically.

"All we have done is increase security around the Prime Minister as he goes around performing his duties."

"How exactly have you been increasing security?" Ophelia asked.

"More Wardens. More Enforcers. More of his own contingent present at his side at every moment. More…" Ophelia wasn't listening. More … She was suddenly watching a malformed version of herself coming alive, assaulting her with a brutality she herself could probably never have matched. She was right back at the moment where an "Enforcer" had attacked her. Ophelia turned to Sir Bruten with such startling speed, he actually froze where he stood.

"I think we should go to the Prime Minister. Right this moment."

"What for?" he asked, though he began following her out.

"Because I suspect not all of them might really be on our side." He caught her meaningful look, and the way his expression changed confirmed that Ophelia didn't need to elaborate what she meant.