V2. Chapter 27: — The First Emperor and the Apostle |
The practical military training lasted for more than two hours straight. Despite the shocking first fight between Kael and Lidia, the rest of the students still had to follow the lesson schedule.
At first, Dukhlas had to bark at the students several times before the general noise finally died down. Throughout the lesson, many continued glancing toward Kael, whispering among themselves and returning to what they had witnessed, as though trying to dissect the fight piece by piece again.
But despite all of that, the lesson continued.
Kael himself watched the other students fight with genuine interest. What he saw turned out to be even more useful than he had expected.
Standing at the edge of the arena, he carefully observed the other fights, gradually building an overall picture in his mind.
The elite of the Capital truly differed from the mages of Lasthold.
Even students at his own level possessed solid fundamentals—competent mana control, confident weapon mastery, disciplined movement. There were almost no students here who relied solely on brute force.
And although far from everyone made a strong impression, Kael still found these observations valuable.
Of course, he did not get to see everyone.
Most importantly—he had made an impression.
And that became obvious immediately after the practical lesson ended.
The moment Dukhlas announced the end of the session, a crowd of students almost instantly moved toward Kael. Several dozen young mages practically surrounded him, interrupting one another with questions.
✦ ✦ ✦
At that very moment, Kael was standing in the middle of the corridor as questions rang out around him one after another:
“What kind of magic was that?!”
“Was that your contracted spirit’s technique?”
“Are all the people from your homeland really that strong?”
Even Laslo, standing nearby, looked as though he was barely restraining himself from jumping in with a dozen questions of his own.
Kael himself only laughed, politely replying, “My magic is a secret. But if someone figures it out in the future, I’ll treat them for free at my tavern.”
Kael’s words immediately caused another surge of interest.
Someone had already opened their mouth to ask another question, while others exchanged glances, clearly taking the challenge seriously. But at the next moment, bells rang through the Academy, summoning students to their next lessons.
The crowd immediately stirred.
“Damn it, next lecture…”
“See you again, Kael!”
“I’m still going to figure out what kind of magic that was!”
The students quickly scattered through the corridors, still glancing back at him as they hurried away.
Laslo did not linger either. Slapping Kael on the shoulder hard enough to make him sway slightly, he flashed a broad grin: “Expect visitors tonight! You owe us a drink!”
Kael only smiled tiredly and nodded.
“Always happy to welcome good guests.”
Laslo laughed and, waving toward his group, quickly disappeared into the stream of students.
Only when the corridor had finally emptied and the sound of footsteps began fading into the distance did Kael finally let out a quiet breath.
Looking around, he rubbed the back of his stiff neck and quietly muttered, “Finally, some silence… That first lesson turned out more eventful than I expected…”
But in the next instant, a familiar metallic clanking came from around the corner.
And the moment Kael heard it, a chill instinctively ran down his spine.
Dukhlas slowly appeared from around the corner, calmly walking forward while leaning on his metal prosthetic. The light from the corridor crystals slid across the dark metal of his leg and the steel plates of his combat gauntlets, making the professor seem even heavier and more imposing.
Kael immediately straightened and slightly inclined his head.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
Dukhlas merely snorted, stopping a few steps away from him.
“Valeria said you’re a clever kid,” he calmly said, giving Kael an appraising look. “Aiming for the Scholars’ Guild?”
Kael nodded immediately.
“Originally, yes,” he replied without hesitation. “But I also want to specialize as an alchemist and inscriber.”
Hesitating for a moment, he quickly added in a more formal tone, “But I also understand the importance of military training. So I’ll do everything in my power to pass your exam.”
Dukhlas did not answer right away.
He tilted his head slightly to the side, as though replaying their recent fight in his mind once more, then thoughtfully said, “You’ve got a rather unique combat style, kid. But for now, you’re nothing more than an uncut diamond.”
There was no mockery in his voice. Only dry confidence in his own words.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, he continued more seriously, “War is a terrible thing. For the weak, it promises only pain, grief, and death.”
The metal prosthetic struck the floor with a dull clang as Dukhlas took another step forward.
“But for mages like you…” he slowly added, “it becomes a crucible that tempers them.”
With those words, he began slowly circling around Kael, carefully studying him from every angle, as though trying to see something hidden inside him.
“I spent the entire lesson thinking…” Dukhlas finally continued. “But I still couldn’t figure it out.”
He stopped beside Kael and, without the slightest ceremony, asked directly, “Care to tell me what your Soul Form is? And what spirit are you contracted with?”
A crooked, slightly awkward smile spread across Kael’s face.
For a second, he looked away as though choosing his wording, then honestly answered, “To be honest… I don’t know the answer to either of your questions.”
For the first time during the conversation, an expression flashed across Dukhlas’s face, but immediately afterward, as though recalling something, he nodded in understanding.
“My apologies,” he calmly said. “I sometimes forget that many kinds of knowledge were unavailable in your homeland.”
But unexpectedly, Kael shook his head, and his next words truly put Dukhlas on guard.
“Vice Headmaster Kairos doesn’t know what my Soul Form is, either.”
Dukhlas froze for a moment, as though unable to believe what he had heard.
Meanwhile, Kael, not noticing his reaction, continued more calmly, “But I think it’s somehow connected to the Void.”
After a brief pause, he added, “And my spirit resembles a silver ant. Thanks to it, I can manipulate my own weight to a limited degree… and the weight of objects into which I pour mana.”
At those words, confusion once again appeared on Dukhlas’s face.
For several seconds, he silently stared at Kael, as though comparing what he had heard with something from his own memory, but then the corner of his lips slowly twitched upward.
“Heh…” he quietly said. “This keeps getting more and more interesting…”
With those words, Dukhlas stepped closer and heavily placed a hand on Kael’s shoulder. Even the gesture itself felt oppressive—the massive steel plates of the combat gauntlet chilled the fabric of his clothing.
“The higher a mage’s level, the longer they live,” Dukhlas calmly said, as though speaking in passing. “And combat mages usually grow faster than other mages.”
Patting Kael on the shoulder, Dukhlas turned around and slowly headed down the corridor. The metal prosthetic once again began rhythmically striking the stone floor.
“With enough time…” he tossed out without looking back. “You’ll manage to read every book you desire.”
Falling silent for a moment, he slightly turned his head to the side.
“So first… become stronger. You’ll always have time to become a scholar later.”
Kael remained standing with his back perfectly straight, watching Dukhlas leave until the heavy metallic clanking finally faded somewhere deep within the Academy corridors.
Only then did some of the tension leave his body.
A crooked grin slowly spread across Kael’s lips, and he almost inaudibly snorted, “Thanks for the advice… A long life really does have its advantages…”
But inwardly, he calmly added, “But war has an unpleasant tendency to get people killed… So I think I’ll pass.”
Turning in the opposite direction, he leisurely walked down the corridor, carelessly muttering under his breath, “Since I’m still not allowed into lectures… I suppose I’ll visit the library.”
His footsteps echoed through the nearly empty corridor, while a new plan gradually began forming in Kael’s mind.
“First, I’ll study all the theory…” he calmly reflected. “The only part requiring actual effort will be the practical exams.”
And the longer he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
After all, unlike every student—and even the professors of the Academy—he did not need years to master theory. His perfect memory instantly retained everything he needed…
✦ ✦ ✦
And at that very moment, while the Capital lived its usual life filled with intrigue, lectures, noble scheming, and endless struggles for influence, entirely different events were unfolding far in the south of the Empire.
From a bird’s-eye view, a wide dead riverbed stretched between two ridges of black cliffs.
The patterns in the ground showed that water had once flowed here. Now the ground had turned into a viscous mixture of mud, ash, and dried blood.
The cliffs on both banks were scarred by the marks of battle. In some places the stone had melted into black glass; elsewhere grotesque growths protruded outward as though the rock itself were trying to twist inside out. Some cracks descended dozens of feet into the earth, wide enough for a human to pass through.
But the worst sight of all was the hundreds of corpses strewn across the battlefield.
There were both humans and beastfolk among them. Some were mutilated so badly that it was already impossible to tell them apart. Some had been burned to a blackened husk, others torn apart, while still others had been pinned to the rocks by gigantic arrows the size of spears. A few had half-sunk into the black sludge, leaving only hands or twisted faces exposed.
A heavy stench of blood, ash, and rot hung over the place.
The riverbed had long since become a true “death zone.”
Anyone who attempted to cross it without proper preparation was almost guaranteed to die to techniques, arrows, or monstrous siege artifacts.
On the northern bank, among the black cliffs and fortified ledges, crimson banners of the Blood Dragon Empire fluttered.
The human positions looked grim and imposing. Stone bastions reinforced with runes rose between the cliffs, while translucent barriers shimmered above them, distorting the air. Rows of massive crossbows, large enough to rival siege weapons, stretched along the fortifications. Their thick bolts, covered in runes and chains, pointed directly into the riverbed, ready at any moment to tear apart anyone reckless enough to advance even a few dozen steps forward.
Even amid the apparent lull, the humans did not relax.
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Lookouts constantly moved along the walls, alchemists carried crates of elixirs, and inscribers maintained the defensive formations, causing thin lines of mana to flicker through the air.
The southern bank looked completely different.
There were almost no true fortifications there.
Instead of walls stood enormous bone crosses driven directly into the earth, while the barricades had been built from the carcasses of gigantic beasts whose bones and shells had long since become part of the defense. Massive beasts clad in heavy iron armor wandered between them—many-legged creatures covered in scars, horned monsters the size of houses, and predators whose mere appearance inspired dread.
Roars, howls, and dull clashes of metal against metal constantly echoed from deep within the camp.
At first glance, the Beast God Horde appeared chaotic, savage, and almost insane.
But only at first glance.
In truth, most of those sounds did not belong to the beastfolk themselves at all, but to ordinary beasts that their “higher kin” had subjugated through artifacts and magic. And that was what made the Horde truly terrifying—behind the outward chaos lay ruthless discipline.
✦ ✦ ✦
At that very moment, deep within the camp of the Beast God Horde, amid the maze of bone fortifications and gigantic tents, an entirely different atmosphere reigned inside one of the largest pavilions.
There were no screams there, nor the stench of blood.
The air inside the tent was filled with the aroma of incense and rare herbs, while thick carpets with incredible patterns covered the floor. Massive braziers burned in the corners, casting the space in a warm reddish glow.
On a wide, soft divan, reclining against cushions, lounged a slender beastfolk with black fur and red eyes.
His facial features looked surprisingly refined for one of the beastfolk. There was almost none of the usual beastfolk brutality in them—rather, a cold, predatory elegance. But that image was sharply broken below the neck.
His torso remained completely bare, and dozens of ugly, ragged scars ran through the dark fur. Some looked so deep that it was as though his body had once nearly been torn in half.
His lower half, however, stood in sharp contrast to the rest of him.
His wide black trousers were made from expensive fabric and decorated with unbelievably intricate red embroidery. The patterns intertwined with one another, forming complex symbols and beastly silhouettes, while the craftsmanship itself was so exquisite that such clothing seemed more suited to an aristocrat of the Empire.
On both sides of him, right beside the divan, sat human women.
They wore no clothing, only heavy metal collars from which thin chains stretched directly to the beastfolk’s hands. Their bodies remained toned and strong—the definition of muscle, old scars, and straight posture unmistakably revealed them to be former warriors rather than ordinary captives.
But their faces… Their faces looked as though life had long since abandoned those poor women.
The beastfolk himself, however, paid them no attention.
Opposite him, amid the wavering light of the braziers, stood a slender figure in wide white-and-gold robes. The fabric fell in heavy folds, concealing the body almost entirely, while the face was hidden behind a smooth red mask without a single pattern.
Only the hands, covered in short white fur, revealed the figure to be beastfolk.
For several seconds, silence filled the tent, broken only by the crackling of coals.
Then the black beastfolk raised his gaze and irritably said, “Everything was supposed to be ready a month ago.”
The figure in white-and-gold robes immediately lowered her head.
“I ask for your patience, General Toar’lak,” a calm female voice came from beneath the mask.
But Toar’lak only slowly bared his fangs in a grin.
“Better concern yourself with the Patriarch’s patience, not mine,” he drawled, tightening the chains in his paws and making the women beside him flinch almost imperceptibly. “He has invested too much into luring out the human Emperor.”
At those words, the masked figure visibly stiffened.
The woman quickly lowered her head even further.
“There is no cause for concern. We are nearly ready.”
Silence hung in the tent for several seconds more, after which she slowly straightened and added with greater confidence, “We delayed for a reason. The chaos we have created will be far greater than originally planned.”
Hearing that, General Toar’lak jerked one of the chains, and the woman beside him immediately lost her balance, practically falling into his arms. The beastfolk pulled her against him without the slightest gentleness, lazily wrapping an arm around her waist, while his long claws slowly dug into the captive’s bare shoulder.
Thin streams of blood immediately began running down the woman’s pale skin.
Toar’lak, meanwhile, grinned in satisfaction, his red eyes sliding over the masked figure.
“Good…” he drawled with anticipation. “Then let even more human blood flow…”
✦ ✦ ✦
And while far to the south the Beast God Horde plotted something sinister, Kael had already calmly made his way to the library of the Imperial Academy.
Passing through the tall golden doors adorned with delicate runic carvings, he entered a spacious hall where dozens of long study tables stood near the entrance itself. Several students were already seated there—some silently copying notes, some flipping through old folios, while others had fallen asleep with their heads resting atop open books.
But Kael’s gaze almost immediately shifted farther ahead.
Beyond the study area lay the true heart of the library.
Three enormous tiers, connected by staircases and narrow bridges, stretched upward, forming a veritable labyrinth of bookshelves. Everything here was crafted from dark lacquered wood that gleamed beneath the light of crystals, creating an atmosphere of old, almost aristocratic luxury.
A heavy scent of books lingered everywhere, blending parchment, aged wood, leather bindings, and ink.
Together, it blended into one heavy, familiar aroma.
Kael involuntarily drew a deep breath.
A crooked smile slowly spread across his lips, and almost inaudibly he muttered, “Thanks to the Master… I’ve come to hate libraries.”
For a second his gaze slid across the endless rows of shelves.
“But I still like the smell of books…”
With those words, Kael slowly swept his eyes over the small plaques floating above the passageways between sections. The titles glowed softly with magical light, making it easy to navigate even among such an enormous number of books.
“Convenient…” he noted to himself absentmindedly.
Walking forward between the rows of tables, Kael had already begun estimating how many books he would need, and after a few seconds he snorted to himself, “If I try to take all the books I need with me, the librarian will think I’ve lost my mind.”
Almost immediately, he arrived at a more sensible conclusion.
“It’ll be easier to flip through everything right here…” he thought calmly. “Then study it all in greater detail at home from memory.”
He liked that idea far more.
Without wasting time, Kael turned to the first section he needed, the one related to the Scholars’ Guild examination. The shelves here were especially tall and packed tightly together, and the books themselves varied greatly—from thin textbooks to massive historical tomes in darkened bindings.
Quickly running his eyes over the titles, Kael stopped beside a shelf marked “History of the Empire.”
Without bothering to choose, he simply pulled out the first book he saw and opened it while still walking.
After that, the pages began flipping rapidly in succession.
From the outside, it might have seemed as though he were merely skimming through the text without truly lingering on anything, but in reality every single page etched itself into his memory with frightening clarity…
✦ ✦ ✦
Time itself seemed to accelerate for Kael.
Pages rustled rapidly beneath his fingers, while entire layers of new information were already settling into his memory. The history of the Empire’s foundation, biographies of generals, and the reforms of Emperors—all of it settled into his mind with frightening ease.
Very quickly, the first book gave way to a second, then a third, and before long he lost count altogether.
Kael did not even try to process the details right now. He simply memorized everything wholesale, relying on his perfect memory, as though he were shelving the books not in the library, but inside his own mind.
Only occasionally did he have to pause.
Whenever someone passed too close by, Kael would slow down, pretending to actually read a specific passage or search for particular information, rather than memorize an entire book in mere minutes.
And less than half an hour after his previous “neighbor” left, another arrived…
✦ ✦ ✦
A girl with two long white braids and round glasses in a thin frame stopped several steps away from him. Judging by how quickly her eyes moved across the titles on the spines, she was actively searching for something as well.
Meanwhile, Kael slowly flipped through “The First Emperor’s Memoirs,” maintaining a calm expression though inwardly he was already beginning to grow irritated.
“Damn…” he cursed to himself without lifting his gaze from the pages. “Maybe I should move to another section for now?”
His fingers continued turning the pages at an unhurried pace.
“At this rate…” he continued mentally. “I’ll get through far too little… I won’t even get through all the material for the Scholars’ Guild today.”
Kael slowly turned another page, already preparing to close the book.
Judging by the table of contents, a new section began next, which meant he could finally move on to the alchemy section. But the moment his gaze caught the title of the next chapter, his fingers involuntarily froze.
The chapter title read, “The Apostle of Blood and War: Shadow of the Throne.”
Kael frowned.
“Apostle…” he muttered under his breath without thinking.
Curious despite himself, Kael lowered his gaze and began reading the first paragraph.
“I remember those dark times when we lost battle after battle. That was when the Apostle appeared—the one who granted us the protection of the God of Blood and War, along with a portion of his power.”
Raising a brow, Kael thoughtfully murmured to himself, “But Valeria said no one knows who that mysterious mage was, the one who brought faith in the God of Blood and War…”
However, the moment he lowered his gaze a little further, things gradually began to make sense.
The next lines read:
“That old man appeared as though from nowhere. He possessed power beyond mortal comprehension, yet immediately declared that he would not personally interfere in the war. At the time, it filled me with rage and confusion.”
Kael narrowed his eyes slightly as he continued reading.
“But years later, the truth behind his motives became clear to me. Alas, it is a secret that cannot be passed down through a book. Only the one who inherits my throne will learn the truth.”
At those words, Kael finally lifted his gaze from the pages.
“So that’s what Valeria meant…” he quietly muttered under his breath.
His fingers thoughtfully tapped against the edge of the book’s binding.
“So only the current Emperor knows the truth about that ancient figure…” he concluded mentally, lowering his gaze back to the pages.
Kael lowered his gaze further down the page, and in the next instant his entire body seemed to go rigid. His fingers twitched, and the book nearly slipped from his hands.
“What the…” he muttered in disbelief, staring sharply at the text.
The next paragraph read:
“During our first meeting, the Apostle, who later came to be known as the Shadow of the Throne, declared that there was one thing that united me, him, and his allies. He said that I was one of them—that I too was a Shard. That is why he chose me as the first human worthy of receiving the power of the God of Blood and War.”
For several seconds Kael simply froze, feeling his hands go numb as a prickling sensation spread across his scalp.
The sounds of the library seemed to fade into the distance. Somewhere pages rustled, someone spoke quietly between the shelves, but right now Kael barely noticed any of it.
“They were both Shards?” he repeated slowly to himself, gripping the book tighter.
Frowning more deeply, Kael lowered his gaze and continued reading: “I had always considered my ability to absorb mana from the blood of my enemies an anomaly. But as it turned out, it is a gift tied to my unique soul.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed slightly.
The next line made him tense even more: “It is precisely because of this soul that my sincere worship of the God of Blood and War holds special value.”
Kael hurriedly began flipping through the pages.
One after another, they rapidly slid beneath his fingers while his gaze latched onto separate lines and paragraphs, trying to catch anything genuinely important.
“Damn…” he mentally cursed, turning another page. “Where’s the information about the Shards?!”
But instead of answers, all he found were the First Emperor’s reflections on the nature of authority, military discipline, the sacrifices of war, and the wisdom the Apostle had supposedly shared with him.
“Why do I need all these damn lessons right now?” Kael fumed inwardly.
The pages continued flipping rapidly until Kael finally reached the end of the section, realizing with growing frustration that there was depressingly little truly useful information among the dozens of pages.
In truth—only hints that left Kael with even more questions.
“Are you alright?” a female voice suddenly sounded from beside him.
Kael snapped out of it and only now realized he had been flipping through the pages far too sharply, clearly drawing attention to himself.
Lifting his gaze, he saw the very same girl with white braids and glasses.
Putting on his usual smile, Kael gave a slightly awkward chuckle.
“Sorry. I got too absorbed in the text.”
The girl laughed softly, adjusting her glasses.
“That happens to me too sometimes. But try not to make noise, or the librarian will get angry.”
Smiling once more, she lowered her gaze back to her book, continuing to read with a faint smile on her face.
Kael simply smiled politely again and shifted slightly sideways, as though returning to his reading, so the girl would not notice the change in his expression.
Meanwhile, his thoughts had already begun rapidly connecting.
“The First Emperor… and this Apostle…” he slowly repeated to himself. “They were both Shards.”
At that thought, his heart began to beat faster.
But in the next instant, Kael suddenly realized something far more disturbing, and a chill slowly ran down his spine.
“That Apostle said the First Emperor was ‘one of them’… Which means there were other Shards?”
Kael lowered his gaze to the book, pretending to continue reading calmly, though his thoughts had already drifted entirely elsewhere.
“If all of this is true…” he reflected slowly. “Then somewhere beyond the Human Dimension, there may be an entire group… or organization, gathering Shards under its wing.”
At that thought, conflicting emotions stirred within him: the desire to discover who stood behind the Apostle and shed light on his own nature, and, at the same time, fear of their unknown motives.
“But why are they connected to one of the younger Gods?” Kael continued mentally, feeling more and more questions arise. “What purpose could people like that possibly have? Do the Master and the other supreme Gods know about them?”
With those thoughts, Kael slowly closed the book and carefully returned it to the shelf.
His desire to continue reading suddenly vanished.
Turning around, he leisurely headed toward the section exit, absentmindedly letting his gaze slide across the rows of books, though he was barely noticing either the titles or the people around him anymore.
“If such an organization truly existed…” he calmly reflected as he walked. “I have to learn more about it.”
That thought had sunk in too deeply.
Too many things suddenly seemed connected to the concept of Shards—the fall of ancient empires, the appearance of the Apostle, the Gods’ interest in the Mortal Worlds.
And somehow, all of it was connected to Kael.
“In the future, I’ll stand against the God of Knowledge and Madness… And before that moment comes, I need to gather as much information as possible,” he continued mentally while walking between the bookshelves. “It seems the first step will be becoming strong enough to enter the inner circle of the Emperor himself.”
At that thought, a strange, almost painful urge to move forward faster suddenly flared up within him.
As though the very idea that organizations filled with uniquely gifted mages like him existed filled him with greater hope.
His pace slowed slightly, and his gaze grew colder.
“Calm down, Kael…” he told himself, quickly suppressing the unnecessary emotions. “If something like that truly exists… we’ll find out eventually.”
He calmly adjusted his robe as he continued toward the library exit.
“Sooner or later…” Kael concluded far more coldly. “We’ll uncover the truth.”