Bound and Broken: An Isekai Adventure Dark Fantasy (Melas Book 1)

by V. A. Lewis

  So practicing Dispel Magic on a mana lamp ten times was not as effective as practicing it on a Light spell once, because the mana lamp would turn off without anyone fighting back against you to keep it on, unlike a Light spell which has a caster that would.

  Of course, there was some resistance for the former, but it was incomparable to struggling against another person's magic— at least, this was true in most cases; there were always anomalies which did not make it a hard law, but merely a general rule. As such, even if I could dispel the bindings created by Julian’s super-expensive mana tool, that did not necessarily mean I could dispel a Binding spell by Victor.

  It just was not the same.

  I turned another page, and continued reading. Thaumaturgy was not incredibly vast like Pyromancy or Aeromancy was; it started out easy, but became incredibly complex really quickly, making it a smaller field of study than the two— although it was still more studied than something like Shamanism. However, the Demon Lord, as the inventor of magic and all, accounted for the increasingly steep learning curve when it came to learning Thaumaturgy in his writings.

  He outlined a step-by-step method to achieve intermediate proficiency in this school of magic. If followed properly and consistently, the average person would be able to learn everything in this book of mostly basic spells and a handful of advanced ones, within… a decade.

  I slammed the book shut. Nope, I thought, standing up and heading out of the tent. That’s annoying. Why is magic so hard to learn?! Another two hours had passed since I started reading the Thauma and mental exhaustion was finally starting to catch up to me. Doing nothing but studying every day was tiring, especially without anything else to do to relax; I needed to find someone and just… chat for a bit.

  I was not an extrovert— I didn’t need to be around other people to energize myself— but I was also not an introvert. I was your average ambivert: prolonged periods of both isolation as well as companionship drained me of energy. I had to strike a delicate balance between the two, which was not possible when all I ever talked to others about were the things I wanted to avoid when talking to them— studying.

  I strolled around the encampment, searching for anyone to chat with; I passed by dozens of Goblins hurrying about in all directions and frowned. It wasn’t this busy the last time I went out. I waved my hand and called out to one of them.

  "Hey," I said, and the Goblin paused midstep, but he did not respond. I hesitated, but managed to squeak. "Uh, what are you guys doing?"

  The Goblin shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, glancing back and forth between me and his companions leaving him. He opened his mouth as if he were about to give a quick answer, but someone spoke over him.

  "He’s busy working. Being productive and helping us move camp tomorrow, unlike you."

  I spun around and saw Karna standing there with his arms folded. He gestured for the Goblin to go, and the Goblin listened, quickly hurrying after his friends as they went to dismantle a tent.

  "Move… camp?" I asked dumbly. "Has it really already been two weeks?"

  "Yes," he said. "Now don’t bother us while we work. And especially don’t disturb the Commander and the Dark Acolyte— they can’t baby you forever, girl."

  I raised an eyebrow at that, but he was already off; my lips drew into a thin line as I watched him go, ordering about other Goblins to different areas of the camp. What a jerk, I thought, shaking my head.

  Because of that unpleasant interaction, I lost all interest I had to speak with anyone; I was not being unproductive— I was studying. Sure I was currently wandering about the camp trying to distract people who were busy by talking to them, but…

  I sighed. I’m so annoyed right now.

  I went back to my tent, and resumed reading The Thauma until I finished it, before moving onto the next book. Sometime after that, darkness took over and I fell asleep.

  Chapter 30: Feeding Hunger

  "Melas," a deep voice said.

  It boomed through the very world itself, creating a great tremor upon the ground at my feet. I felt myself free falling as the massive earthquake broke apart the land, the sea, and the sky, shattering—

  "It’s time to wake up."

  "Huh?"

  I sat up, rubbing an eye as Gerritt slowly let go of me. I glanced up at the large Orc as he stared back down at me.

  "When did you fall asleep?" he asked, a look of concern on his face. "You look tired. Did you not get enough rest last night?"

  I was about to respond when I felt drool running down the side of my cheek; I quickly wiped it off and spoke.

  "Uh, I don’t know?" I answered truthfully. I raised my shoulders in a shrug and made a guess. "Maybe two… three hours ago?"

  "Hrmph, that’s not good," he said. "A child at your age should be getting a full night’s rest if you want to develop properly."

  "I know," I said, sighing and rubbing my temples. "I was just… irritated."

  "Why’s that?" he asked, frowning.

  "It’s nothing." I shook my head and stood up. I glanced around the tent— at my unpacked belongings— before turning back to Gerritt. "We’re leaving soon right? I’ve got to pack up. Victor gave me a lot of books to read, and I’ll have to find some way to carry them all."

  "Hrmph." He eyed the cluttered mess that was my room, and folded his arms. "Once you’re done gathering your things, meet me in the center of the camp. There is transportation arranged to carry our cargo, and I don’t believe an extra bag or two would weigh us down too much."

  "Oh." I stared up at the Orc— at his kindness— still slightly unnerved at how helpful he was being towards me. Then I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you."

  Gerritt returned the bow before turning and leaving me in my tent; I quickly packed up any and all valuables I had, pausing only once I had it all inside a bag. I looked through my belongings, and for just a moment, I felt a pang of something that was almost like guilt, but not exactly.

  And that was because I did not own anything of my own: everything I had on me was something that I had been given recently. There were no objects in my bag of sentimental value— nothing that had been given to me by my mom. I remembered for just a moment a lighter— the simple mana tool my mom used to teach me how to work a mana crystal. I almost wished I did not destroy it, so I could at least have something to remember my mom by.

  But I had none.

  I shook those thoughts away, and quickly closed the bag. I headed out of my tent, and glanced about; Goblins were almost finished dismantling the camp, but we weren’t about to leave just yet. That was because it was probably still evening outside, before the sun had completely set and night had taken over.

  Goblins had night vision, similar to Cat Beastkin, which meant it was advantageous for us to travel under the blanket of darkness, hence why we were traveling at night; I knew we were relocating to a strategic location, although the exact details of what was going on were not told to me. Modern means of transportation did not exist, so you actually had to walk if you did not have any beasts of burden to pull you along. It was tiresome, but I was used to it by now.

  Eventually, I found Gerritt. He was directing some Goblins into loading a cart being pulled by… a horse? No, not just a horse, it was an undead horse. The Orc turned to me as I arrived.

  "Hrmph, disgusting isn’t it?" he asked, looking at his reanimated Zombie.

  "It’s… rotting," I helpfully put in.

  "Frankly, I am not a fan of Zombies either, yet they are far more durable than mere Skeletons. Of course, both would serve their purpose with the job of simply pulling cargo. However, it would take too much unnecessary time to raise only the bones of a decomposing corpse."

  "I see." I nodded along, then something in my head clicked. "Wait, decomposing? As in, recently dead?"

  He grunted in affirmation. "It has been rotting for a week now, but yes, its current state is exactly as it was when I reanimated it."

  My eyes widened in shock, and I pointed
at the undead animal. "That’s the horse Victor and I arrived in a week ago!" I exclaimed.

  "Of course," Gerritt agreed. "Where else would we have found a horse anywhere nearby?"

  I frowned. "But that’s…"

  That means you killed it.

  I wanted to say that, but I stopped myself. What was wrong with killing it? I ate animal meat all the time and never thought twice about it. Plus, it made sense: killing a pack animal and bringing it back with Necromancy meant you did not have to use up resources to sustain it. And considering that we did not have much resources to spare, it was the only smart move.

  Perhaps it was more humane to have simply killed it; keeping a horse alive in a small stable inside a dark cave would not have been an ideal living condition for it. There was also no worry of overworking an undead horse. It’s like killing a horse with a broken leg.

  "Is something wrong, Melas?"

  "It’s nothing," I muttered. "So, do I just put my stuff here?"

  "Hrmph, yes." The Orc reached for my bag of books, but I stopped him.

  "Wait," I said, glancing around. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "No. We’re mostly finished, though I do appreciate the offer."

  "I see." I nodded, and reached into my bag, taking out the grimoire I had started on the night before. "I’ll just read this in the meantime, while we prepare to leave."

  "Of course. Don’t worry about us, just focus on studying and practicing your spellcraft." Gerritt paused, then quickly added, "Just don’t do anything that would bring the ceiling down on us."

  "I won’t. Promise." I reassured the Dark Commander with a smile, as I began to walk away.

  I was willing to do anything to get my mind off of the serious stuff. Even study. So that was what I did.

  I sat on a rock just by some torchlight, and continued where I last remembered I left off. It was not about a specialized book like The Thauma. It covered the general idea behind using magic to manipulate the elements.

  Magic was not simply creating things out of thin air; some fields of magic were predicated on controlling the environment. If you took Geomancy for example, creating a wall of stone was possible with magic, yet it was more efficient to use magic to raise the ground up as a wall. Because, with earth magic, you had access to the earth all around you.

  This was very different from Pyromancy where the biggest source of fire most people would find near them was a cooking fire. That was why Victor could create a ball of fire from nothing, but manipulated his surroundings to create the stone spear back when he saved me. And yet, apparently knowing how to control real fire was almost as important for Pyromancy as controlling the earth was for Geomancy.

  The grimoire did not delve into the specifics of either Terramancy or Pyromancy, but gave an overview of all spellcasting fields. It was a foundational skill— like learning how to walk before you ran. It was something that helped you better grasp magic, and not a guide on advanced spells.

  Of course, walking was not useful in a race. You did not walk your way through the 100 meter sprint in the Olympics. Yet, walking had its own uses, like for travelling incredibly long distances. In a similar vein, understanding how to manipulate the environment had its own uses.

  It was not just an exercise or some sort of stretch you did before a workout, although that was one of its benefits. It was effective when employed properly on its own, which made it incredibly useful to learn.

  One of the principal examples of this was from thousands of years ago, when the Demon Lord was young and magic was still new to this world. An army had been sent to attack Hell during the First Holy War.

  At the time, a clash between the Demons and this army would have caused significant casualties on both sides, unlike during the Final Holy War where the Demon Lord would have been able to face them all alone.

  As such, the Demon Lord chose to tactically avoid fighting them, and retreated to a better strategic location. He led his people away from the army, leading them through the forests, through the plains, through the valleys, and through mountains. And there, on a narrow pass after a rainy day, he laid his trap.

  The army sent by the Church marched unknowingly through the valley, tired and weary from chasing the Demon Lord for so long. It was then that the ground began to move. The earth shifted like some kind of an illusion, but it was no mirage that the soldiers saw. It was a landslide.

  The hills were too low and warm for an avalanche, but a landslide could occur on any rocky slope. Light rain fell over the weeks summoned by the Demon Lord’s magic, and it had weakened the soil, priming it to fall. Then, with a little bit of push using more magic, the earth came down on the army.

  Not a single soldier survived.

  It kind of reminded me of the story with Moses, and how he crushed the Pharaoh's army with a miracle. But this was not a miracle— that was not how miracles work in this world. This was magic. And I wanted to learn it.

  I closed the book, and closed my eyes. I focused— concentrating not on trying to create or destroy anything, but to simply feel the world. There was a warmth coming from near me. I did not grab for it; instead, I just felt it.

  The warm radiance quivered gently; or at least, it felt like it did. I focused on the heat, on the small blaze that stood silently alone, and I willed it to move.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes. And the flames were dancing.

  The flames from the torch flickered back and forth like it was in a dance. I watched it spin in circles like a ballerina, going faster and faster as I called on it. The fire began to twirl, losing its teardrop shape, forming into a ring in the air.

  It was a fire dance: one where the performer spun their shining poi in the air. It continued coiling into itself, creeping closer to me with its tail end like a rope.

  But it was too slow. I wanted it to move faster. So I reached for the flame—

  And the fire erupted into the air. A plume of orange blaze burst out of the lone torch, its intense heat overwhelming me for a moment. Then it was gone; the fire was extinguished.

  Darn, I sighed. I lost control of it, and the spell failed; I tried to force the flames to me, rather than ease it in my direction. The magic circle on my hand dissipated as I got up to inspect the torch. I shook my head. Completely burned out.

  I was lucky. If it was near anything flammable, the fire would have continued to spread. But because it was just on the torch, the flames simply used up all its fuel. I got up, as I heard a voice from the side.

  "Melas," Victor called out to me. "We’re leaving."

  I turned to face the young man and called back. "Coming!" I strolled over to him, and he regarded me..

  "I can see you’re taking your training seriously. Your control over the fire was commendable." He nodded, before pausing. "At least, before the end," he added.

  "Oh." I flushed at the praise, ignoring the last bit. "Uh, thanks."

  "However,"— Victor raised a finger— "fire manipulation is not so simple. Not every flame burns the same, nor does it all beckon to the same calls. The same applies for the rest of the elements; I suggest focusing on only one for now, lest you overstretch your capacity to learn."

  He beckoned for me to follow him as he continued to explain, so I did.

  "I believe your focus should be on controlling fire. Its manipulation is a crucial aspect of Pyromancy that is often overlooked. Understanding how natural flames work would better help one in conjuring it with magic. Furthermore, I am partial towards fire magic, so I would be better able to assist you in this regard."

  I nodded along as we slowly made our way through the narrow corridors leading us to the outside.

  Victor continued. "Judging by what you’re trying to do, I believe you’re reading the grimoire I gave you on the elements?"

  "Yes," I replied.

  "Very good," he said. "It is one of my personal favorites, and one of the first grimoires I read. Acquiring it as a youth in the Holy Xan Empire was not so easy. In fact, it w
ould have probably been impossible if you lived in its capital city. But Xantus is not as meticulous on that as Xanderia, so I eventually managed. And I’m glad for it, as it staved me away from malpractice when I finally began actual spellcasting."

  "Wait." I halted midstep and stared at the young man. "You’re from the Holy Xan Empire?" I asked, aghast.

  "Indeed I am. Is that a problem?"

  "No—" I hesitated. "How did you… learn magic? Wouldn’t you be taught that magic is bad since you were young?"

  He snorted. "Does it matter?" he asked, cocking a brow. "Your mother herself is proof that the influence of the Church only reaches so far into a child’s development."

  "I, uh, see. I was just curious. Please continue."

  "Very well then." The young man took on a lecturing tone. He wagged a finger in the air as he spoke, and his words exuberated his passion in magic. I simply listened as the Dark Acolyte delved into the intricacies of fire manipulation and how it aided with fire creation.

  Then, Victor paused. He put a hand over his chin, and muttered to himself. "Of course, the best way to understand this is by experiencing it yourself. But how would— ah."

  At the mouth of the cave, a familiar Goblin stood holding a torch. Karna was organizing the other Goblins slowly streaming out of the cave with us, when Victor walked up to him.

  "Sir, did you need something?"

  "Yes, I need that for training purposes." The young man gestured at the object on the Goblin’s hand.

  Karna looked at the torch, and blinked. "Of course— "

  Then Victor reached over and snatched it off his hand.

  "Thanks," the Dark Acolyte said without looking back at the Goblin.

  That was… rude? I wanted to apologize to Karna for that, but Victor was already dragging me away; I glanced back at the Goblin, and saw him frowning with his arms folded glaring at me. Great, he hates me more now.