Black Mist

by Michael Sisa

  The name of the nearest city sparked Dan’s interest. It was the city mentioned by the mages that conducted the magical feats back in his village. According to the mages that time, a certain magical school named Ilian Academy was located inside the Empire of Kulaima. The name of the city and the academy was most likely related.

  “Is Ilian Academy located in Ilian? The similarity in name can’t be mere coincidence,” Dan asked. Minerva also remembered the academy he mentioned.

  “Oh, so you guys are not so clueless after all,” Mervik said. His voice did not have a hint of arrogance in it. “Correct. The Academy is named after the city it’s located at. It’s the best school for magicians in the entire continent.” He grinned, showing his complete set of teeth. “Kid, interested in learning magic?”

  Minerva’s heart sunk after the question. She knew that Dan have little to no mana inside his body. Even the S ranked magician that they met back in the village said so himself.

  “Yes, but it seems that I have no talent in that field,” Dan calmly said. He was indeed interested in learning magic. It was something that even he, the Grim Reaper, would be delighted to learn. It was something entirely new. Still, he resolved himself to accept the fact that he had no innate talent in the field. He knew that there was no sense in pondering too much on something that he would not be able to change.

  “Is that so?” Mervik said in a disappointed tone. He did not delve further on how the child knew that he had no talent. “Not everyone could use it anyway. Statistically, only one out of a hundred could use magic. Quite a low amount actually.”

  “Daddy! Carin wants to play!” a high-pitched voice rung out. Carin tugged his father’s shirt and leaned closer. He looked at Mervik with big, expecting eyes.

  Mervik looked at Dan. The two children were around the same age, but the level of maturity surely was different. He smiled and said, “Sure. After you finish those.”

  “Yay! To the lake!” Carin squeaked.

  ***

  It had been three days since Dan and Minerva came to the village of Ruktia. Each of the houses was meters apart, and one needed to walk some distance in order to reach the next residence. Mervik was hospitable. He provided the two with comfortable lodgings and absurdly delicious food. Dan and Minerva were very grateful for such kindness. In four days, they would depart towards the city of Ilian. It was the decision of Minerva.

  “Dan! Let’s go to the woods! I saw a large stag beetle! Large! Large!” Carin excitedly said. Without waiting for Dan to say a word, he pulled his hand and ushered him towards the direction of the woods. It was a few minutes of walk from their current spot.

  Dan smiled and let himself be dragged by the child. It had been a long time since he took care of one, and the current feeling was pleasant. It was early in the morning, and the sun was shrouded by the clouds. The woodland was filled with coniferous trees that spanned ten meters in height. Its leaves kept falling off like a scenery during autumn. Dried leaves crackled the moment their young feet stepped on it.

  “There!” Carin said. He pointed at small clearing. Buzzing sounds filled the air as they went towards the direction Carin pointed at. The child was so enthusiastic about it that Dan felt no choice but accompany him.

  Suddenly, Carin gasped. He cast a quick look at Dan and smiled, showing two missing front teeth. As quick as lightning, the child ran deeper into the woods. Dan was surprised by the unannounced action, and he immediately dashed and chased.

  “Hey! Don’t go deeper into the woods! Your father said it himself. There are rumors that bandits inhabit th—” Dan halted. He had caught up with Carin, but the figure in front of the innocent child was ominous. With a large gash across his left eye, and a scorched jaw, the man towered two meters. His frame was thick. Large enough to crush a tree into smithereens.

  ‘Bandits?’ Dan thought. He heard the crackling of crushed dried leaves. Afterwards, five more figures appeared. All wore leather garbs and a chainmail. Scimitars hanged at their waists.

  ‘Six of them. No… eight. Others are hiding behind the trees.’ Dan felt the presence of the other bandits. With wary eyes, he glanced towards the first man they saw. He appeared to be their leader.

  “What’s this? Kids playing inside the forest? What are your parents doing, eh?” the leader spoke. His voice was raspy, and a foul odour came out every time he opened his mouth.

  Carin stood there as he gawked at the man before him. The man glared at the child with a murderous rage, and Carin’s body trembled. His lips quivered, and he cried with all his might. “Faaattheer!”

  The man covered his ears as he stared at the child in irritation. He bit his lips and mumbled, “Sleep.”

  Suddenly, a cold chill filled the air. Everything seemed to have frozen, and Dan felt his body gradually become heavier as the clock ticked by. His muscles seemed to sag from the pull of the earth, and his legs wobbled as he tried to remain standing. His stomach churned, and he resisted the urge to vomit. The phenomena lasted only a second, but to Dan, it felt like eternity.

  He huffed as numerous trickles of sweat flowed down his cheeks. He glanced at Carin and saw the child’s body sprawled on the ground. Dan’s eyes widened as a fierce rage swept over him. He remembered the time when his brother died in front of his very eyes. His mind went blank, and his eyes turned enraged. He dashed towards the man and leap towards the scimitar that hanged on his waist.

  “Seriously?!” voices from within the forest were heard. Ruffling sounds reverberated as everyone stared at the charging child.

  Dan stretched his arms wide as he reached for the weapon on the man’s waist. The man shot his hands towards him, and Dan immediately ducked as response. He twirled his body twice as he evaded another attempt of grabbing. He kicked the leaves that scattered on the floor, and a blanket of dried green and brown shrouded the man’s view. Using that split second opportunity, Dan grabbed the sword and pulled it out of the scabbard. It was released with a fluid ~swichk sound. Without wasting time, he shot the scimitar towards the man’s neck. It was then that he felt a chilling sensation all throughout his body, and he felt his strength leave him. His vision blurred, and he fell down his knees.

  And he saw a surreal phenomenon: The scattered leaves on the ground turned to dust one-by-one.

  “Hey boss, you might kill him if you keep that up,” a female voice said.

  “Sheila’s right. Please stop it boss!”

  At the corner of his eyes, Dan saw the bandits that hid in the woods slowly come out one after another. They all surrounded him, and they stared with vigilant eyes. The pressure continued to envelope his young body, and he felt his skull splitting into two. He silently endured the pain.

  Suddenly, the pressure receded. Dan looked up and saw the leader of the group staring at him with curious eyes. His stomach churned, and he puked on the ground. It was crimson; it was blood.

  “See? The boss is too cruel. Just knocking him out unconscious should be enough, right?”

  “Shut it. The soul spirit I used is enough to make a Fenris lose consciousness. Still, that child managed to live through it.” The leader’s remark made everyone dead silent. Their eyes were filled with disbelief as they glanced towards their boss, then to the child.

  Dan vomited again, and he felt the malaise that accompanied the loss of blood. Twin crimson lines flowed down his mouth. “Bandits. Please… spare that child,” Dan said after he wiped the blood on his mouth using his sleeves. His stare took everyone by surprise. It sent a chill down their skin. It was the eyes of a trapped beast.

  “This child… what the hell….”

  “Ku…kukukukuku!” the leader chuckled. He tilted his scar-filled head to the left and grinned. “Bandits? Is that why you tried to kill me? Kukukukuku!” He walked forward. His figure loomed over Dan. “We’re no bandits, child. Make no mistake. We’re not some irrelevant group that knows nothing but rob people of their belongings.”

  ‘They’re not bandits?’ Dan thought. His bod
y was aching all over, and just standing alone was an arduous task.

  “Boss, we can’t help it if people think we’re bandits. Just our appearances alone….”

  “Yeah, and who the hell suggested that we hide in the woods? Oh heavens! My skin’s full off mosquito bites!” the woman said.

  “Shut it,” the leader said. He turned to Dan. “Child. Who are you? The pressure I’ve used is something I’ve acquired through decades of training. It’s not something a normal human would be able to endure—moreover, a child.”

  Dan did not reply. Instead, he looked at Carin. The child remained sprawled on the ground. The leader followed Dan’s line of sight and said, “Don’t worry. He’s asleep. I’m not the kind of guy that would kill a child for no reason.”

  Dan heaved a sigh of relief after those words. He said, “You’re not bandits? Then what are you guys? And why are you hiding in the woods close to the village?”

  The group glanced at each other. “We’re no bandits. Magicians. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the Revolutionary Army before—that’s us.”

  Dan wordlessly stared at the group after the revelation. Somehow, he believed it. He felt that they were not lying. Still, he did not put down his guard. He said, “So, that’s magic.” He pertained to the pressure he felt moments before.

  The leader paused before he replied, “Nah. I’m no magician. My mana pool’s too low to be one. I’m an Anito—one that utilizes his soul spirit instead of magic. This is probably the first time you’ve heard of it. Basically, it’s something even rarer than magicians.”

  “Boss, what do we do with the child?” one of the men spoke. “It seems that the villagers are aware of our existence. It’s no longer safe to hide in this area.”

  “We’ll regroup with the third army. We can’t let the royal family do as they please. We’ll put an end to their tyranny!” the leader declared. He raised a hand and applied the same pressure from before towards Dan. “Damn this kid. Not even this amount of pressure is enough to make him faint.”

  Dan felt the tremendous pressure from before invade his body. His muscles screamed in agony, and his bones creaked. He bit his lips then said, “Teach me… that technique of yours… teach me.”

  His words made the leader stop. He stared at Dan with a surprised expression. “Kid, believe me. Being a magician is a hundred times easier than being an Anito. It’s a technique that only those that have stained their hands with the blood of thousands of lives could master. It’s a technique that would devour the wielder if used improperly.”

  The leader sighed. “Why am I even conversing with a kid?” He again sighed. “Here: The trick is quite simple, but it’s absurdly hard to master. Know of the term bloodlust, son? The technique is synonymous to that. Instead of uncontrollable rage, direct the flow into a point in your body. If you have a weapon, direct it into your weapon. It won’t break that way. If one reaches a certain mastery in it, one could direct it to the atmosphere itself—just like what I’ve been doing.”

  “It’s just like mana manipulation, but the one you’re manipulating is the bloodlust—or if properly termed, soul spirit,” the woman added.

  “Hey, why are you even explaining such things to that kid? He won’t understand it anyway. Let’s get over this then go,” said another.

  Dan’s eyes glimmered for a moment after the revelation. ‘So there’s a way for me to use magic despite the lack of a good mana pool?’ Dan thought. Even now, he thought of the pressure as some form of magic. After all, everything that could not be explained by his previous world’s science was tantamount to that.

  “Hey kid, just faint, will ya?” the leader said in irritation. The pressure further intensified, and Dan’s body finally gave in. He fell on his knees, and his face kissed the ground. He lost consciousness.

  Chapter 07: Takal Point

  A few hours after the confrontation with the members of the revolutionary army, Mervik searched the woodlands for Dan and Carin. He was frantic when he saw the two of them sprawled on the ground. Moreover, the appearance of Dan was mortifying; no external injuries were seen, but his body was pale beyond comparison. He had the appearance of someone that had just lost half the blood in his body. Minerva and Mervik kept asking Dan and Carin on what happened, but the two told them that they did not remember a thing.

  Dan refused to reveal the fact that members of the revolutionary army lived in the woodlands. Doing so would spark rumors, and the royal family would surely dispatch armies to subjugate the rebels. Without a doubt, the peaceful city of Ruktia would be enveloped in strife. It was something Dan would like to avoid at all cost. Two days passed since then, and the departure of Dan and Minerva was nearing.

  “So you’re here,” Mervik said. Beside him was Minerva. Both of them had a solemn look on their faces.

  “Yes,” Dan replied. He did not turn around but instead continued gazing at the tombstone before him. The name engraved on it was something he was very familiar with. It was something very precious.

  Mervik walked a few steps forward. It was almost dusk, and the sun had turned light crimson. They were currently on top of a large mound near the lake. The breeze was cold but soothing, and the sounds of birds chirping resonated from a distance. Mervik, along with Minerva, silently watched the small back of the child before them.

  “I have a request. I know that his real body is not here... but this tombstone means very much to me,” Dan turned to Mervik. “Once we leave this village, please take care of father’s tombstone. You don’t have to check on it every day. Even once every two months would suffice. I know it may sound selfish, but I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

  “Of course,” Mervik readily replied. He felt his heart squeezed by the child’s words. He was so young, and so much tragedy had already happened. Still, he remained strong and calm. If he were to die, would his son Carin do the same as that child? The mere thought that such a young mind was capable of such gestures brought him into a gentle smile. Mervik thought on how lucky Dan’s father was. He knew that if he was watching, he would certainly be proud and say, “That’s my son!”

  “And what’s the other tombstone for? It doesn’t have a name,” Mervik said as he glanced at the tomb near Krisse’s. Its headstone was a bit different than usual, and haystacks were offered instead of flowers.

  “That’s for the stolen horse. Died standing. Amazing, right?” Dan’s reply made Mervik’s brow rise in response. A horse? He had never seen someone bury a horse before in respect. He stared at the pile of hay and inwardly mumbled on how appropriate the offered ‘flower’ was.

  “This calms my mind a little,” Dan said. His voice was gentle, and his eyes glimmered as he reminisced. He looked at Minerva. “Mother, the decision to go to the City of Ilian is final?”

  “Yes. I think the city is appropriate enough for us to start over. Your sibling will be born soon, and just the fact that it’s born in the city itself would reap benefits. We need to think of the upcoming future.”

  “I see.” Dan placed his hand on his chest and bowed down to the tombstone of his father. “We’ll be off then, father.” He knew that Krisse was dead, and that his body was not underneath the headstone. Still, he believed that a soul was free. The presence of the body was irrelevant. The feelings given were what mattered.

  ***

  After eating another mind-bogglingly good dinner, Dan went into his room. The house of Mervik was wide enough to accommodate him and his mother, leaving a room to spare. He closed his eyes and recalled the words uttered by the man he met in the forest. For some reason, he felt that the man’s technique was suited to him.

  ‘Channel it to a single point,’ Dan thought as he meditated. The man said that he did not use magic, but instead, what he used was soul spirit. A technique quite similar to bloodlust.

  Dan reminisced the days when he was still Hades. He reminisced the times when he slaughtered without remorse. The looks of anguish of his prey, the words they uttered as they begged
for his mercy, the tears that flowed down their eyes—he recalled everything.

  His brows knitted together as the memories of such nightmares were recalled. He slowly tried to remember the sensation of his blade cutting through the flesh of his prey: the feeling of a knife cutting through butter. His sharp blades would cut through his prey’s skin like parchment, then towards the flesh, and eventually the bones. The bones would resist for a split second, but his unparalleled mastery of the sword would suffice and his blade would emerge victorious every time. It was a sweet sensation, but deep inside, he would feel remorse for his action. In due time, his feelings became numbed, and he would silently slaughter without lament.

  ‘Don’t get consumed by anger. Don’t get consumed by bloodlust.’ Dan kept reminiscing, and a tremendous thirst for blood crept up towards him. No matter how calm and sane he was, the nature of humans was of those in the battlefield. One would always hunger for carnage deep within them; one cannot bottle up such feelings forever.