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Threat Level Zero: A Tale of Ascension

At the dawn of time, nine unique races were birthed from the ashes of all that used to be. The Nephilim was one of these nine races, and as their line was wont to do, bred with the other eight, until the bloodlines of the others were too watered down to utilize their Fragments of Creation. The Nephilim, now the humans, gained these powers, with certain lineages holding the potential to birth Manifestations. The descendants of the other species still have dominion over the Fragments of their ancestors, but unlocking this power is the work of millennia. All of them have the potential to return to the greatness of their ancestors, but only humans, the innovative creatures that they are, can become more. This story follows Fate, an assassin taken from his home as a child and subjected to sick experiments that awakened his Manifestation. With a new family, he aims to wipe the organization that subjected him to such treatment from the face of reality. But the Advanced have other plans.

Lolbroman25 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
341 Chs

SCD

Fate waited patiently as his Spell Composition and Deciphering professor, Fend Faraday, ushered up the first student to present their project.

Over the weekend, each student was required to create three working Spells of the Seed Grade. Fate had finished his on day one, but based on the tense atmosphere and nervous, fidgety students in the room, not everyone had had such ease.

The first to present was a Pride Mage. He explained that the first of his devised Spells was internal, so he asked the professor and other students to watch along with their Mage Senses.

His Skill was an interesting one that allowed him to control the nerves and cells in his body to limited effect. The first Spell he showed numbed the pain he felt by a significant degree.

His second was more interesting, allowing him to seal over wounds with a thin layer of skin to staunch bleeding, which he demonstrated by pricking his finger with a needle. It was the last one that caught Fate's attention, though.

While less useful than the other two in a fight, Fate couldn't help but envy the man for his Spell that allowed him to change the color of his eyes.

The young man's pupils went from blue to green to red and then brown, before the whites of his eyes turned red, then yellow, then back to white.

According to the student, once he made the change he didn't have to keep spending Mana to keep the change. It was permanent until he changed it again.

The next students came and went with lackluster Spells, a few of them only having one or two and thus failing the assignment.

One of these men sought to complain that the assignment was unfair, that someone with his particular Skill couldn't make three entire Spells as an Apprentice.

Fate had to stifle a laugh as this student was thoroughly embarrassed by the professor.

"Your Skill makes a ball of Light?" Professor Faraday asked. "I can think of several Spells off the top of my head. You can make more spheres, you can change the shape to a cube, or increase its brightness.

"I know a student who could only launch harmless bolts of Light. In a manner you could have easily replicated, he would attack with the brightest bolt he could manage, aiming it right at the opponent's eyes.

"Then the next one would be so dim that it would appear as just another spot in the sea of stars that now called the target's vision home. That dimness would be made up for in scorching heat that incapacitated the target.

"Some Apprentices can't make their Light solid or hot. But blinding your opponent should be a key part of your repertoire as a Light Mage with such abilities, so the fact you couldn't even think of one tells me you didn't even try.

"At the Seed Grade, even something as simple as increasing brightness is a Spell. Mastering the ability to dim and brighten your Light would have given you two right off the bat.

"If you expect to pass this class, I suggest you either study your powers in more detail with the Academy's extensive library or learn to think outside of the box. Either way, consider this first assignment failed."

The student sat back in his seat with a sour expression, like he had just scarfed down a lemon. Contrary to Fate's expectations, he made no other commotion after that, content to silently seethe.

Then Fate's turn came. He stood and walked over to Professor Faraday calmly. After a short explanation for each Spell, he showed off his Zero Punch, Solid Surfing, and Reflexive Zero Spells, the last one with help from the professor.

Professor Faraday scribbled some notes on a notebook as he did for each student, tearing the page off and handing it to Fate. On it was his score, a 90 out of 100.

"Interesting ideas," the Master started, "but the execution needs some work, especially for the last one. Timing is a tricky thing to nail down, especially in battle, but this Spell you've made is useless if you can't master that skill."

Fate nodded respectfully and took his seat. It wasn't the best score in the class so far, but it wasn't the lowest by any stretch.

Fate scrunched his brows as he started composing the necessary Imprint in his mind. He was determined to finish his first wand today, but whether that determination would bear fruit remained to be seen.

Kravoss glanced over now and again as Old Man Travis put him to work sculpting a stone statue. It was a comical sight, the old man holding the Dracok at his hip like a flamethrower as he carefully carved the desired image out of the stone, but Fate was too absorbed in his task to laugh at the sight.

He mustered his Mana and dipped into the wand core. As his Mana traced out the shape his Facet whispered to him, he kept his feelings and thoughts firmly rooted at the center of his brain.

'Metal cannot change what Mana a Will Stone can accept,' Fate thought. 'Metal cannot…'

As the pattern within grew closer and closer to completion, sweat started to drip from his brow as his belief started to waver.

A saying he had heard time and time again was that a Facet could do anything, even create continents and change the laws of physics. How could he so confidently believe that Metal was unable to do this task when his very own experiences proved him wrong?

Old Man Travis was a Metal Mage, and he could make wands in his sleep. This was an Imprint of ignorance, not fact.

He flinched as the Imprint snapped, the Mana unraveling and escaping like gas to mark yet another failure.

'Don't beat yourself up about it,' Kravoss consoled, beak still shooting out a thin, sharp stream of water. 'Ignorance is part of sapience. The old man can only create wand cores because he understands how his Facet can produce such a result. Without that understanding, he'd be as helpless at it as you are.'