The World Burns
"That bastard is certainly hard to catch," the blonde man said. "Thankfully, he decided to die on his own."
Silas's eyes flickered to the three figures in tight white clothing. He put his hand behind his back, hiding the man's ring instinctively. But the trio's attention wasn't on him.
The blonde one, with a cocky smile, scanned the clearing while the red-haired one stared at the corpse of the dead wizard. The last was a calm-looking fellow with short-cropped hair, his long face betraying no emotion.
'White clothing?' Silas thought, recognizing them slowly. Lightservants. An antagonistic organization known for its cruelty and prejudice toward wizards. The triangular pendants with stars on each corner confirmed his suspicion.
Heroes of Destiny had a sprawling, intricate plot. Players had to confront numerous enemies, with the Lightservants of the Three Destiny Church being among the most formidable. The Church's hatred for wizards stemmed from their magical abilities, deemed the Traitor's Destiny. The Church vowed to execute anyone who wielded such power.
"What now?" the man with short black hair asked.
"You aren't thinking of killing a child, are you, Rivas?"
The blonde man, Rivas, leered at Silas, smiling. Silas felt his skin prickle with discomfort. The man in the middle shifted his gaze to him, his black eyes devoid of emotion, like buttons sewn on dolls.
"We can't do anything about it then. Child, we don't hate you. But what we're about to do to you is something that the Three Destinies have decreed. I hope you find peace beyond the Endless Sea where They reside and where all creations are made. They are just and fair."
The two beside him nodded and closed their eyes, their faces solemn.
"They are forever just and fair."
Rivas grinned, a ball of light forming in his palm. But the quiet man on the right stepped forward, blocking him.
"Let me do it." The Lightservant with red hair said.
Rivas scowled but relented.
"Very well, we shall wait for you in our carriage," said by the one in the middle.
He glanced at Silas one last time before the disappeared back to the forest. The red-haired man pulled a white glove from his coat pocket.
"Do you happen to have a name?"
Silas closed his mouth.
"My name is Cesar Varwin."
"Silas Hawthorne"
"What a nice name you have, Silas Hawthorne. Do not fear, I promise to make it as painless as possible with my [Piercing Light]." Cesar smiled as a surging light formed in his palms.
Silas recognized the attack; it was a basic Lightservant skill, a needle of light that shot as fast as a bullet. Cesar threw the [Piercing Light].
Silas, having come to terms with his transmigration, had spent the last week learning his skills and practicing them. He activated [Barrier], a violet, semi-invisible wall that curved before him, blocking the bullet. But the shield shattered under the impact.
Cesar stared at him with disgust. "I thought you were just a poor, innocent child. My judgment was wrong. You are nothing but a vile wizard. Descendant of the Traitor and Betrayer of the Creator. My compassion is wasted on you. May your damned soul rot in the Abyssal Deep where your power belongs. [Flares of Judgement]!"
Golden flames burst from his hand. Silas knew this Tier 2 skill was powerful but slow. He used the delay to his advantage, escaping into the forest. A pillar of flame rose from the ground where the skill had landed, visible even to villagers tending the fields, who glanced at Mount Vruna, wondering if it was about to erupt.
Silas had three available skills: [Barrier], [Magic Pierce], and [Flickering Fire]. Facing Cesar head-on would be suicide. How could he fight someone capable of casting [Flares of Judgement]? The Lightservant's use of such a powerful skill seemed like overkill, he thought bitterly.
From behind, he felt a surge of heat. He jumped to his left, narrowly avoiding the attack that could have incinerated him. He realized that if the spell had hit, he might have ended up with a scorched, excruciatingly painful death.
He raised his hand and shielded his eyes as flames erupted from the tree where the attack landed. It could have been him, he thought, watching the inferno. Clenching his teeth, Silas stood.
'Running would be useless now.'
"So, you're going to face your death?" Cesar said, amused.
"You speak funny," Silas laughed. "Running won't save me. I might as well try my luck."
"Nothing in this world can save you from your destiny. Even Jallar of Conservation won't save you. He'll send his Deathsingers after you for using the powers of the Traitor."
"You talk as if you know what your god wants."
Cesar's face darkened. "Blasphemous. Face your death, sinner!" He raised his hand to cast another [Piercing Light].
A bullet-like light sped toward Silas. Using every ounce of strength and adrenaline, he dodged it.
This game had been his life, and it wouldn't be an overstatement to say that most of the memories he had were of this game.
This game had been his life, and most of his memories were of playing it.
'Then this world must follow the same rules.'
Cesar threw [Flares of Judgement], a spinning ball of fire. Everything around Silas slowed dramatically as it approached. The ball of fire skidded in the air as it approached his direction.
Silas cast [Magic Pierce]. A skill similar to [Piercing Light] except for its pale violet color. It hit the ball of fire, causing the skills to merge instead of explode.
A jolt of energy surged from his palm and hit the ball of fire. But instead of exploding, the skills merged with one another.
The spinning ball halted mid-air, bubbling. Silas cast [Magic Pierce] again. The impact pushed the pulsating ball toward the Lightservant.
Cesar didn't see it coming. The ball of light passed through his shoulder and hit a tree behind him, triggering an explosion of heat, smoke, fire, and blinding light.
When certain conditions were met, a more powerful skill could absorb a less powerful one, creating a moment of stillness to exploit. The Lightservant's and the wizard's magic were the perfect example. They were like incompatible chemicals. Forcing the two to combine would trigger a disaster.
The air screamed around him, the force throwing him off balance. Once it was finished, the air pulled towards the origin of the explosion. As he looked up, Silas saw a broken tree branch flying in his direction.
Silas dodged the branch by dropping to the ground, but it still grazed his back. Dust, fire, and sharp debris scoured his skin as the world burned around him. Back then, he didn't realize it was already a premonition of what was coming for him in this world. He unknowingly held the spark that would ignite a firestorm.
His hand clung tightly to a tree root until the chaos subsided. When he opened his eyes, gray flecks fell from the sky like warm, ashy snow. For a moment, he thought it was snowing. Of course, it isn't; the snow was white, and these were gray and not cold but instead warm.
He sat up, hissing as he felt pain all over his body. The skin in his right arm, which he used to shield his face from the explosion, was red and blistering.
'It would scar,' he thought as he stared at it.
Groaning in pain, he stood and looked around. The ground was littered with broken branches, some small and sharp enough to harm his bare feet.
He found what he was looking for a few meters away. Cesar's body lay beside a giant tree root, barely alive. The Lightservant's hair and most of his body were scorched. He opened his eyes, a smile flickering on his lips.
"W-what did you do?"
Silas looked at him. "I did what I could to survive."
The Lightservant smiled before the light in his eyes faded.
"Ah, I am forgiven."
Silas stood over the corpse, wondering what to do next. With a sigh, he searched Cesar's belongings and found a scabbard attached to his belt. He pulled out the blade, and a box appeared before him.
[You have acquired Angel Blade x1]
[You have acquired Big Holy Water Potion x10]
[You have acquired Brown Boots x1]
He stared at the silver blade. Only high-ranking Lightservants owned an [Angel Blade], forged by Travaas the Glory, the Weaponmaster of the Endless Sea. There were fewer than a hundred [Angel Blades] among mankind, most owned by the Church.
Cesar owning one meant he was directly serving the Appointed Minister. This man was a Lightshadow, an assassin for the Church.