Chapter 14: In a Weathered World
FSSSSH.
I’m touching something sandy with my right hand. I can hear the dry rustle of grains slipping through my fingers.
When I fearfully crack open my eyes, an unknown world is before me.
Destroyed buildings, a layer of white grit covering the ground, and something hugging me from behind…
Slowly, I sit up, and whatever was hugging me crumbles away like a sandcastle being taken out to sea by the waves.
When I lower my gaze to what fell apart, there’s a pile of white sand. I reach for the familiar face on top.
Jul…ius.
Julius’s pale face is there, buried in the sand.
His beautiful long, golden hair flutters in the wind.
His handsome face is at rest with a peaceful expression, his ice-blue eyes forever closed to the world.
I run my finger down his cheek; it’s still soft and warm. But there’s nothing past his neck… No, to be exact, the section from his neck down is progressively turning to sand.
The sand gradually erodes Julius. If this goes on, even his beautiful and peaceful face will turn to dust…
Surreal. None of this feels real.
I mean, how could it? This…this shouldn’t be possible…
I scour my memories to figure out what caused this, and then it comes flooding back into my mind—the magic explosion caused by destroying the Demon Lord’s magic circles.
Oh, I think with an out-of-place calmness. The uncontrollable magic caused the world to weather.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Prince Guido! Sir Golem! Please open your eyes! Oh, please!”
I spin toward the sound of someone wailing.
Aela is staring down in horror at Guido and Golem eroding at her feet. Golem’s lower half has turned to sand. Prince Guido is in a similar state, but both his arms are also missing.
I lift my gaze and see a single sword thrust in the sand. Two hands are clasped around the hilt.
They cling to the sword as if they have become one with it. The hands hold on tight, even though they have been severed from the arms, shoulders, and torso that give them strength.
That’s Prince Guido’s magic sword. Cracks are running through its blade. One look at that and I know Prince Guido and Golem protected Aela in the face of inevitable death.
Just as Julius protected me…
Are Sereniel and Regulus all right? No. They can’t be. No one is safe after such a powerful magic circle blew up. They have fallen somewhere in this weathering world, becoming one with the sand as time passes…
“The Demon Lord’s magic circle didn’t fail to live up to its name! That explosion of magic! That power! You could even call it beautiful! Wouldn’t you agree, Elle, Aela?”
I hear an overly excited, crazed voice that doesn’t suit this quiet, dusty world.
“Boy, am I happy camper! I am so thrilled it worked out. It really was a gamble. Thank the Demon Lord I had faith it’d work! I knew I could believe in Julius to save Elle and in Guido and Golem to protect Aela. The power of faith is stupendous! What can I say, I’m impressed. Thank you so much for dying for me!” Clark rattles on like a lunatic and staggers to his feet with a wicked gleam behind his cracked glasses.
There’s something extra unsettling about his looks. He’s missing his right arm.
“Oh? Ah, looks like I had to pay the price for using my arm to destroy the circle, after all. Guess I failed to block the entire explosion. If this happened to me, then the DemiOracles must have turned to instant sandcastles.” Clark dismisses the loss of his arm as if it’s not a big deal and laughs like he’s having the time of his life.
Rage like I’ve never experienced before explodes within me. “CLARK! Why! Why did you do this? Wasn’t reviving the Demon Lord your goal?”
If all the DemiOracles became sandbags, there won’t be any blood left to revive the Demon Lord. And even in the off chance a DemiOracle survived, with the magic circle necessary to resurrect the Demon Lord obliterated, there’s no way to revive him!
“Hmm? Did I say that? Well, I certainly respect the man behind the magic circle. But my goal isn’t the Demon Lord’s resurrection. Haven’t you figured it out yet? I am solely interested in the act of reviving someone with magic. Taboo magic that rules over life and death. All I want to do is witness it in action.”
“That’s why you killed everyone?!” I scream, steaming hot winds roaring to life around me.
“Aaah, don’t do that, Elle. Letting your magic loose will hurt Julius’s and the gang’s corpses,” Clark advises with a grating laugh. I don’t get what’s so funny.
I bite my lip.
Am I frustrated? Angry? Sad? I don’t know, but I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. And I don’t want to hurt Julius’s peaceful face, so I grit my teeth and force my magic to subside.
Clark shifts his crazed gaze to Aela. “All right, your turn, Aela dear. Pray for healing, with Elle’s heart as the magic offering. Doing that will bring back the two gentlemen weathering away at your fingertips and Julius.”
“I can…bring…them back…? But they are— Everyone is dead,” Aela answers Clark’s temptation in a threadbare voice.
“No, no. Don’t you listen? Your healing magic is powerful enough to revive the dead as long as you have an unlimited supply of magic,” Clark explains with delight.
Finally, I understand what he’s been after. If Clark’s sole objective is to witness the moment the dead are brought back to life, then it doesn’t matter if it’s the Demon Lord who is resurrected.
All along his goal was to wipe out everyone we cared about to create an environment that compelled Aela and me to do what he wanted.