Sylvester hadn't planned to fight a level ten Grand Wizard, who was most likely half-a-step into becoming a Supreme Wizard. Even with his Elder Magic, there was no way for him to overpower that kind of person. But fooling him with his theatrics was also challenging.
'Will he believe in Solis if he truly is such a big believer?' Sylvester wondered and tried his best to look imposing and godly. His crimson halo alluded a dangerous energy, and his long golden blonde hair fluttered without any need for wind.
"My strongest believer, the greatest one? Prove it—What is the name of my son?" Sylvester made his voice slightly echoey and muffled this time.
The Supreme General of Masan, Manzax K'al Mirmasan, was at least three hundred years old, filled with great wisdom and power within his body. With his exceptional talent to become a Supreme Wizard, he navigated his way all those years with great precision, placing all the bets in the right places and ensuring his niece became the one and only Empress Consort of the Empire.
But, even with all that influence and power, there was one thing he desperately craved, and for it, he prayed to Solis day and night and became the greatest worshiper among all. What he desired the most was—a family.
After a harsh childhood where physical and mental torture was common in order to make him a great warrior, he lost something of value. He could never conceive a child, no matter how much he tried or how strong the women were. In the end, the reason was apparent. It was he who lacked something.
"Solis?" Manzax voiced, sounding furious even. He raised his unique long blade and pointed it at Sylvester. "In the body of a mere boy? Before I prove myself—you prove your own divinity. Tell me, as your greatest worshiper, what is it that I desire the most?"
Sylvester looked at Manzax's face emotionlessly, preparing a hymn to reply with. 'Thank you, Fernis…You will not be forgotten in the Holy Land. Forever remembered as the silent pathmaker.'
?Standing before the divine, you choose to be blind.
Anger and pent-up frustration have shut your mind.
Look again, not ahead in the future, but far behind.
Whose fault is your lost blessing that I had designed??
?Desire a son, a daughter—but lives in them, my essence.
I'm earth, sky, and air—yet you ignored my presence.
For centuries my children were killed; grave is your offense.
Yet you pray as a devotee, maintaining your false pretense??
Thud!
Manzax fell to his knees; his eyes widened in shock, and his mouth dried up due to the lack of words. It wasn't hard to discern the meaning of the rhyming hymns. Indeed, he desired a son or a daughter.
"But I merely fulfilled my duty, my fate expected of me. Why am I punished for something that, if not I, another would have fulfilled?"
'Oh, the scent of tulips is rising. The worship in his heart is increasing. But the scent can be deceiving.' Sylvester observed the positive impact of his words.
So, he continued, placing the blame on the man again.
?I built humanity with intelligence, made your minds free.
Permitted to choose, when to reject, and when to agree.
Yet, madness you chose—from peace, you cowardly flee.
To the sins of the devil, you blithely bent the knee.?
Manzax trembled upon hearing Sylvester's chilling words. "What can a pawn do in the world of Kings and Emperors? I'm a mere soldier who dies if he follows the order, who dies even if he rejects the order."
Sylvester widened his eyes slightly and extended his palm toward the man. His halo expanded, emitting an icy sensation. It was time to strike while the iron was hot.
?I blessed you with the talent to sit at the peak.
Yet, gold, power, and influence are all you seek.
Countless dreams and hopes you made bleak.
Piles of the dead, feel what their bodies reek!?
Woosh!
The space distorted before Sylvester's palm, and an utterly repugnant odor permeated the surroundings, churning the stomachs of all present.
First came drops of blood, followed by cascades forming a river of crimson. Then joining the blood, dead bodies began to appear out of thin air—beheaded, chopped apart, limbless, putrefied, or even rotten—men, women, and children of all races.
A small mountain of tens of corpses piled up in an instant and filled the room with blood beneath their feet. Most of the bodies had eyes still open, reflecting the sudden death that they had received. Some bore contorted faces, revealing the pain before their deaths.
Even Wajir and Ellum had their knees go weak while Manzax stood transfixed, his mind empty. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, and the eyes blinked behind his mask.
At last, Manzax took off his mask, revealing a face that bore certain resemblances to Fernis. The man was just confused as he asked, "A-Are these my…"
Sylvester bellowed his last hymn, pushing the man into the void of regrets of his life's choices. Into a sense of realization that he wasted his life doing the wrong thing.
?Open your eyes, see the fates you defiled.
From your true sins, this is still too mild.
See their faces—Once, they also smiled.
Boys and girls, one could've been your child.?
"I…I killed them?" Manzax asked with a trembling voice. "But I never raised a blade against a child nor let my men do so."
Sylvester responded. "You strike the river dam, starting the chain of decay. A year later, the dam breaks and kills villages—in whom the fault then lay?"
"I did not wish for this to happen." Manzax broke down. "But I can't see you destroy my home!"
Sylvester nearly flinched at the sudden flare of anger in the man. Loyalty to the Empire was still deeply ingrained in him.
"The sin you committed, your Empire made it greater. Millions died in your city, do you not remember? The servants from my house—you killed them in my temple. Priests, Bishops, Cardinals—for such heresy, why shouldn't Masan tremble?" Sylvester questioned him, reminding him of the massacre in the Southern City.
Manzax was perplexed. "But…My duty is to Masan!"
"I only created life. But Kingdoms, Empires, Borders, Species, and Races are what YOU made. Your duty lies with life, not the construct that only leads to eternal strife!"
Manzax prostrated himself, letting his head touch the bloodied ground. "Then how do I receive salvation? How can I be blessed? Where does the destruction end?"
Sylvester replied. "When the Empire of heathens ends!"
Manzax looked up. "Can I ever be a father?"
"The path of salvation is the answer to your bloodline's continuation!"
Thud!
"Then Masan will live through me." Manzax rose to his feet. "How do I serve, Supreme One?"
"Surrender! Submit!"
Sylvester's eyes darted at Sir Wajir for a moment. Getting the cue, the man ran into the rooms and brought out another sheet of paper for the Blood Contract.
Manzax swiped his thumb on his blade and stamped the blood on the paper, before extending it toward Sylvester.
"My blade is now yours!"
'Ugh…This was tough. My solarium is depleting too rapidly in this state…I need to end this show quickly and leave.'
"Rise, my serva—"
BOOM!—The door to the dungeon suddenly blasted open with a powerful kick. A man in dirty black armor and a helmet appeared, shouting like a madman.
"Where are they? Bring those five traitors to the Emperor! They stole the gold!"
Manzax bellowed in response. "Sheelisk! Bow down to the Supreme One, you mindless heretic! Confess your sins and serve!"
Sylvester watched the scene and cursed silently, especially since he was no longer at his peak strength. 'No, no, no…Why is the second-ranked man here now? He's also half-a-step into the Supreme Wizard rank…and this one's mentally unstable! There's no way to stop him except killing!'
"What? Solis? This kid?!" Sheelisk walked in. "Wah! So many dead bodies. Is this some kind of feast? Did you fools dabble in human sacrifice? What demon did you summon?"
"Sheelisk! Mind your tongue! You cannot afford to enrage God!" Warlock Ellum roared. "Kneel immediately!"
'Earn me some time!' Sylvester prayed to God also and tried to form the Elder Blood contract with Manzax as he had the paper in hand.
"Hahaha!" Sheelisk laughed. "Did you three sell your souls to this demon? Have you forgotten what the Emperor taught us? There is no God; there is no Solis—only absolute power reigns supreme!"
Sylvester bought time by replying. "All humans think there is no God—then they meet me."
"It speaks! Never seen a demon so wisely spoken!" Sheelisk walked closer to Sylvester while mocking him.
'I don't smell anything but excitement from him…My words won't work here.'
Sylvester acted swiftly, completing the contract first. However, even then, he couldn't afford a battle inside the castle as it would alert and draw the attention of the remaining Grand Wizards. Once that happened, his entire plan was going to fail.
"I wonder if I can touch you?" Sheelisk raised his hand towards Sylvester's face.
"STOP THERE!" Manzax raised his sword.
"Do not move!" Ellum and Wajir followed. "Don't tarnish Solis with your rotten tongue!"
Sheelisk merely chuckled. "Hehe…Are my own brothers ready to betray me? Quite a powerful demon we have here. He has bewitched you all."
'He's going to attack! I can smell it!'
"In that case, my blade shouldn't be able to harm a Go—!"
Shhhhhh…!
"Hoh?" Sheelisk froze mid-motion. "I-I can't move? Did you do it?"
Woosh!—All the torches in the dungeon extinguished as if a gust of wind passed through. Pitch-black darkness engulfed the place, except for Sylvester's radiant halo.
"What's happening?" Manzax questioned, also stuck in one place. "Supreme One, we ask for forgiveness!"
'I'm not doing this, you fools…I can't move either!' Sylvester felt dread in his heart. The invisible force was affecting him as well. 'Who is it now?'
"Look outside! In the hallway!" Ellum exclaimed from his spot.
They looked at the hallway outside the dungeon as the door was blasted open earlier. It was also pitch black, but now there was a strange figure in the middle, radiating a brighter glow with each passing moment.
"What is that?!" Warjir questioned in dread. "Solis, please forgive us!"
'Who in God's name is that?' Sylvester was the same as them.
The tall figure, adorned with an unfamiliar mask, hovered closer to them. It held a strange contraption in one hand, emitting smoke from incense and sparks of light. Wrapped in garments from head to toe and grasping a sword in its other hand, not even the Empire's Grand Wizards knew him.
"At last!" the incoming figure spoke. "O' Solis, the greatest grace, please recall me to your embrace!"
"Who are you, fellow faithful?" Manzax asked while trying to keep his voice calm.
The figure entered the dungeon and came into full view. It then spoke with an echoing voice while its hand swung the incense faster.
"Betrayed, tortured, escaped, and lost—I am nature—I am Soulbreaker."
[A/N: See Soulbreaker]
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