Chapter 96 (Epilogue)

The God of Arcane 

“That’s disgusting. Can we salt em and be done with it?” Colston asked. His flaming beard rippled with disgust. He leaned against the wall, along with the huge hammer he often fought with in battle. “We’re gonna have to kill whoever’s responsible though. Can’t let this stand.”

Arcane smiled. “Marrow’s quarrels are Marrow’s. We shouldn’t write off anyone capable of this too quickly,” he said. He ran a finger along the flesh slug’s back. 

Colston punched a palm. “The fact that he’s capable of this is what makes me want to tear him apart. Can you imagine the fight?” 

Arcane laughed. “Well, that’s because you think with your hammer and not your head. That’s why there are so many little Colston’s running around. What’s the number now, six?” 

Colston grunted. “None that I’m worried about. So if we aren’t getting revenge, what are we doing?” Colston asked. “And can we please get rid of that thing? Do we really need a pet?” 

Marrow wiggled in Arcane’s hand. “Well, little Marrow did lose, but he brought me something interesting, so I think we’ll keep him. And besides, I think this gross little thing is kind of cute, in its own way.” He smiled and closed his eyes. The magic signature on Marrow, the one who had done this to him, was the signature of someone Arcane knew very well. The man he’d been searching for all this time. Marrow had crossed paths with the God of Magic. It was undeniable; the signature was one Arcane had memorized a hundred times over. 

The presence he’d sensed at Harpis Castle hadn’t been a mistake.

The God of Magic was back. 

He couldn’t wait to finally meet his old mentor.

Ano

He stood beside Alari, overlooking the large plain where the Flamelord’s forces had gathered. He looked down at the armor he’d been given. It was durable, a thick silver, with red trim and the symbol of the Flamelord emblazoned on the chest. Alari cut a striking figure beside him in her own armor. Her reforged blade blazed brighter than ever before. She wore it on her back now. It had grown too large for the old sheath. Down below, Warlord Kingcrew, the Flamelord, shouted to his band of followers. Hundreds of thousands of men and women of varying ranks. A warband designed and cultivated with one goal in mind. Conquering. 

He listened with dread as the Flamelord announced where their war would take them next. Who would he turn Ano’s power against? What people would he have to fight in the name of the man that he sought to kill?

The Flamelord smiled and spread his arms wide. One of his generals approached and held out a flag with the symbol of a shield on it. The warlord set the flag ablaze without saying a word. 

They were declaring war on the Shield Lord. The lord whom his parents had served before being cast out into the mountains. In a way, the man responsible for the deaths of his parents and even Anastasia, if he thought hard enough about it. 

As far as targets went, this was one he could get behind. 

He turned to look at Alari, and she nodded to him. 

Ano was a Kingcrew now, at least until he accomplished his goal. 

It was time to fight. Not only for revenge, but to free Alari from her father’s grasp. 

Calabari

The drink was bitter and burned going down, but he was broke and getting drunk was the only solace he had. He had enough of the politics and games. He didn’t even know what he was thinking returning to Brightsail with Marrow. To make matters worse, the scoundrel had gone missing on him. Where did that leave him? Stuck in a town where he was all but a fugitive. 

He’d have to find a way out of town. As soon as he finished this drink, he was leaving and never looking back. As soon as—

He paused, noticing a man staring at him. Had he recognized Calabari? That was unlikely, right? It wasn’t as if they’d plastered his face on wanted posters or anything. The academy was trying to downplay his involvement in the kidnappings. Their reputation had taken enough of a blow as is. It was probably in his imagination. Still, it paid to be cautious. He took one last swig of his drink and stood, making his way toward the rear door of the bar. It was time to go.

A chair screeched against wood behind him. That was just a coincidence, surely? He picked up the pace and chanced a look over his shoulders. The man was following him. 

Calabari ran. 

He smacked into what felt like a wall not two steps later. “What the…” He held his head and looked up. A large man with crossed arms stared down at him. “Cabbageri?” he asked.

Calabari scoffed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s not even close, you imbecile!” He rose to his feet, channeling mana as he did so. If these thugs wanted a fight, he would give them one. He was once a top teacher at Brightsail Academy, and he would not be treated like this.

“Easy everyone, no need for all this,” someone said. Calabari turned and saw a clean-shaven man wearing bright emerald-green clothes. He held his hands up to placate the situation, and at the sight of his presence, several customers suddenly settled down. 

Calabari looked down and smoothed out his clothes. Finally, this man seemed like nobility of some sort. This was someone he could deal with. Calabari nodded as he approached. “Are these your men? I would advise teaching them manners. That one nearly killed me!” he said, pointing at the illiterate one. Though on second glance he doubted either of the thugs could read. 

The man chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Zeke. I’ve heard a lot about you, Professor Calabari.”

Calabari’s blood ran cold. It hit him that a noble would be exactly the kind of man they’d send after him. The thug had been trying to identify him by name, even if he’d absolutely butchered the pronunciation like a fool. “What is this about?” he asked, preparing to react if things took a turn. He’d blast the three men with magic and flee at the first sign of trouble.

“Professor, I’m well aware of what you did. The students of—”

They were here to arrest him then. Calabari took a step back and launched a spell. “Blinding Dark Academia!” he shouted. The maximizer added very little power, seeing as he no longer could draw upon the power of Brightsail, but his own technique should still prove effective. 

But to his surprise, an emerald pendant on Zeke’s neck emitted a slash of green light, as if a sword had flashed out. It cut the technique in two. 

Zeke sighed. “No more of that, please. I’m not here to take you to jail. I’m here to make you a job offer,” he said.

Calabari swallowed. “What was that defensive technique? I’ve never seen anything like it…wait, a job?” he asked.

“I’m looking for teachers. Because of your history, you’d be watched strictly, but it’s better than prison. I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Calabari raised a brow. “Teaching who exactly?” 

“The forgotten people of Bright Sail. I’ve built a school, and I guess you could call it a community house of sorts. Orphans, the homeless, anyone in need of shelter and help. Once, I despised magic, but I’ve had a change of heart after seeing what it can do in the right hands. I need talented teachers to help me spread that gift to people who can use it. So, what do you say?” Zeke asked him.

Calabari pretended to think about it for a moment. It wasn’t like the alternative was great. It was this or prison. Besides, he liked teaching. Maybe this would be his chance to return to his roots. Forget being a dean. He missed the classroom. Not the backroom deals and negotiating for votes in faculty meetings. A simple lesson plan and encouraging excellence. He’d had enough of cults and power struggles. He’d settle for being a professor, passing on his vast reserves of knowledge to the next generation, blessing them with the divine power hidden within his brain. It was a noble goal, and one worthy of him. He’d allow it.

“Very well, I suppose I’ll give it a try.” At the very least, he wouldn’t need to see his insufferable coworkers again. 

Zeke nodded and held out the contract. Calabari ran his senses over it. It would keep him from leaving school grounds without permission and supervision. He also couldn’t use his magic unless it was in the defense of the student or school grounds. It was ironclad, as far as he could tell. He might not be in an actual prison, but outside of teaching, his movements would be restricted to those approved by a ‘supervisor’. It would likely be one of the fools, that was fine. He was far more intelligent than they were; over time he’d eke out more freedom from right under their noses. He flooded the contract with mana, and his signature appeared, binding his soul to the oath. 

Zeke led him out of the bar; the two buffoons that had chased him earlier followed. When they made it outside, they turned and headed towards the outskirts of the city. That was when Calabari felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“I was wondering if you’d say yes,” Professor Sikar said.

Calabari turned to stare at him. “What…what are you doing here?” he demanded. 

“Me? I’m here to keep an eye on you. I’m your supervisor.”

Calabari flinched. “What?”

“Haven’t you heard? We’re coworkers again. Zeke talked me into this a little while ago. I liked his plans, so I joined up. You’ll love the dean he chose. Dean Ladia is simply excellent. She can’t wait to see you again.”

Calabari’s shoulders slumped. 

“Is it too late to choose prison?”

Sikar patted him on the back. “Far too late, my friend, far too late.” 

Klaw Kuran

He knelt before the King of the Kuran Klan. 

“And this boy, the one you mentioned all those months ago, he’s the first-year student who recently graduated from Brightsail Academy? You’re certain?” 

Klaw nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. So humbly, I request once again, he must take part in next year’s tournament.”

The king stroked his beard. “Hm, defeating a bone ghoul giant was not enough to warrant my attention. But this…this is interesting. Still, defeating a fourth-year student does not make him worthy of the tournament alone. He’d be fighting opponents well above his class. The sons, daughters, and students of lord, prince, and king-class mages. There are rumors some entrants next year have even studied under gods. Can he truly stand tall amongst such powerful magicians?” 

“All the more reason, Your Majesty. If he has as much potential as I believe, will it not be revealed during an event such as this?”

The king thought for a moment. “Hm. He would need a faction to back him. Bright Sail is in the middle of a leadership change, and half the faculty has left. The boys’ prominence will help them build greater than before, but…I’m not sure they’ll have the sway to nominate him.” 

“I’m sure he’ll have no problem finding backing. Not with his strength.”

“Very well. I will not object. If he is as promising as you claim, I will make a push to allow him to participate,” the King of the Kuran clan said. “Still, we have some time before the tournament. Let’s monitor him closely for now.” 

Klaw’s heart swelled. Sen was remarkable, and Klaw believed him capable of far more than he was letting on.

His rank would rise significantly if, a year from now, someone he’d found fought in the tournament overseen by the Council of Gods.