The memory slowly faded away, returning Dallion back to the real world. Things hadn’t completely worked out as Dallion expected them to; he had managed to use his empathy trait to peek into his enemy’s past, just not the one he had originally planned. Looking back, it was logical that the trait would affect the person in front of him, not the echo within. Nonetheless, he had obtained quite a bit of useful information. Now all he had to do was make use of it.

“You aren’t even a mage, are you?” Dallion said, trying to appear more confident than he was. “You’re just a limiting echo that’s taken control of Palag while your original is hidden somewhere away with the rest of your little group, like common cowards.”

There was no need to use music skills—mages’ egos were large and easily bruised.

“He’s not the only one with an echo inside.” Palag frowned. “You’re nothing but pawns fighting on a dying field.”

The fury’s fingers moved to cast a spell. Unlike before, the motion was noticeably slower. Dallion’s instances spread out in all directions, as a bolt of lightning emerged, evaporating half of them out of existence. There was no question that the spell was more powerful than anything Dallion could manage. Still, puppet and puppeteer were no longer in sync. As much as Palag wanted the Academy to fall, he hated being referred to as a pawn even more.

Grasping the opportunity, Dallion cast two quick spells, sending aether projectiles at the fury. The attack wasn’t even strong enough to be a distraction. Long before they reached their intended target, a semi-transparent sphere surrounded Palag. Ripples of light spread along it each time a projectile smashed into its surface, causing no harm to the fury whatsoever.

While that was happening, Dallion did a spark infused line attack. It too was countered almost instantly with several dozen layers of aether barriers.

Nil, can I cast spells with my hair? Dallion drew the silver glass sword out from his realm, doing a double line attack.

No, the echo said flatly. It’s not something humans can do, not even mages.

Damn it!

Dallion was hoping there was a way. He was no match for mage Argus, even while there was discord between him and his apprentice. If he could get close, maybe he would have a chance using his combat skills.

Gem, are you done with the healing? Dallion asked mentally.

Err, no, boss, the aetherfish familiar replied from within Dallion’s realm.

How much is left?

Umm, I can stop healing now. If I do, he’ll die. I’m not very strong as I am now. My healing spells aren’t as strong as those of boss Lux.

It was instinct for every being to focus on its survival before anything else. However, Dallion immediately suppressed such thoughts. He had no intention of leaving a child to die. It wasn’t Phoil’s fault that he had been made into a pawn. It wasn’t Palag’s fault either, though merely subduing him didn’t seem to be an option.

“Ruby, get back here!” Dallion ordered, continuing with his attacks.

The series of line attacks had caught both Palag and the mage controlling him by surprise. No doubt they had faced the occasional awakened who’d tried that on them, occasionally maybe even filled with spark. However, Dallion had managed to build up his strength to the point he could perform many such strikes in rapid succession. Combining that with his newly developed ability to regain stamina through magic, he was good for another fifty attacks, maybe more.

“Ruby!” Dallion shouted again.

A short distance away, the ruby shardfly moved away from the green swarm, quickly descending towards the ground. None of the other insects followed. Several more imperial golems had appeared, systematically reclaiming the area around the Learning Hall. Although limited in many aspects, they ensured an insect-free area around them, saving the few key structures that were left standing. It was almost tempting to say that it was a matter of time before the mages were victorious, yet each time they would gain the upper hand in one area, a new patch of land would collapse like a sinkhole, releasing tens of thousands of shardflies into the air.

Maintaining sixty instances, Dallion kept on attacking, all the time making sure that the shardfly wouldn’t become the target of the fury’s attacks. There were a few cases in which the fury caught wind of what he was doing. Fortunately, like most mages, Palag wasn’t particularly good at combat splitting. The death of Ruby never came to pass, and the creature safely made its way to Dallion’s shoulder.

“Not yet,” Dallion whispered, quickly casting a multiplication spell with one hand. The silver glass sword wasn’t making things easy, but Dallion couldn’t afford to let it go. This wasn’t a realm, so any dropped item wouldn’t be easily retrievable.

Within seconds, a flow of shardflies emerged, streaming from the original like water from a tap. That was good, but it was also only half of the problem.

Look out! the shield shouted moments before an imperial golem charged at Dallion.

Instinct took over. Dallion blocked the strike, only to be thrown back by the sheer force of the blow. Splitting into a new set of instances, Dallion twisted around, ready to meet the construct head on. The action rendered his back exposed to Palag.

Don’t, Dallion thought.

All it would take was for the fury to cast a spell the next few seconds for the battle to end here and now. Fake shardflies flew into the magic sphere surrounding Palag, shattering like hail on stone. With one of his instances, Dallion turned around. For a split second, he and the fury looked at each other, their view unobstructed by insects.

Dallion prepared for the worst. In his mind, he could see the lightning charring him, bringing the end of his life. The moment never came. Instead, he received another punch from the golem, sending him past the fury.

That simple miscalculation changed everything. From facing two invincible enemies, Dallion was now left with none. Determined to destroy the shardflies, the golem was attacking everything in his path. Unable to withstand a direct attack from the construct, the mage controlling Palag had no choice but to fight back.

Sadly, the fight didn’t last long. For several seconds, the golem shattered one aether shield after another in his effort to destroy the illusionary shardflies. While he did, both hands of the fury moved so fast that it looked as if there were eight of them. A single spell was cast, composed of so many circles that it resembled a solid sphere.

A ray of purple light erupted, melting through the torso of the golem, as if it were made of soft wax. The beam continued on, scorching a hole through the swarms of shardflies and even the clouds it managed to reach.

Droplets of cold sweat formed on Dallion’s forehead. The only time he had seen anything similar was in Jiroh’s memories, back when the cloud citadel had been destroyed.

PERSONAL AWAKENING

The scene shifted again, taking Dallion into the safety of his realm.

“Damn it!” he yelled.

There had been a moment during which he thought he had leveled the playing field. He was so far from it that it was laughable.

“Even a gifted novice cannot defeat a master,” Nil said, leaning against one of Dallion’s skill pillars. “Despite what you think of him, Argus is rather skilled. More skilled than any of the otherworlders you’ve seen.”

Dallion didn’t know what to say. With his limited knowledge, he believed the mage to be the same level as Katka and Enroy.

“Is he stronger than Alien?”

“Alien is unparalleled at scheming, but when it comes to it, he’s rather weak. Sure, he’s capable of wonders in his field, but in direct combat…” the echo waved a hand. “Argus was a battlemage. In broad terms, he’s one of those the Academy sends when something large needs punishing.”

“He shot down the cloud citadel.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? An Academy battlemage using a fury orphaned by his actions in order to exact vengeance against the organization that made him what he was. A pity that there isn’t a bard or scholar to memorialize the event. It’s the thing that poems are made of.”

Dallion remained motionless as a statue.

“He wasn’t the only one. Over a dozen battlemages were sent, all as monstrous as him. It’s little wonder that the powers that be decided that changes were needed. Some of the battlemages received promotions, others were sent to face other threats, some were even sent to the edges of the world. The emperor was smart enough not to keep them in the same place. However, his strength made him overconfident. Not once did he consider that the battlemages might get together and even reunite with all sorts of rogue and banished elements to rebel against him. To be honest, neither did I.”

“What? You made a deal with them! What do you mean you—”

“We all had our own priorities. And to be honest, I’m still uncertain they’ll succeed. Tamin emperors have been through a lot, and don’t forget that the Order is yet to react. They’re remaining quiet for now, but should the rebel mages gain the upper hand, they’ll rush to offer a helping hand to the capital.”

The constant game of politics, even amid this chaos.

“Is there a way to defeat him?” Dallion asked.

“Argus? Of course, there is. You have to be faster, stronger, and know more spells. Short of that, no. None of your familiars will be of any use. Even dragons won’t be of any use. You’ve seen what Katka did to one of them? Well, she tried to become a battlemage and was rejected for being too weak, or “not strong enough” as is the polite way of saying it.”

Hopelessness gave way to anger, then desperation again. If Dallion had acted earlier and found the reason for him being cursed, all this might have been avoided. He could have asked for the Moon’s help, or even Aether’s—although after everything that had happened, that was looking less than likely.

“If you fight, you’ll lose. If you run, he’ll catch you.” Nil continued. “Your best chance would be to offer what he asks. It might sound silly to you, but Argus would prefer not having me as an enemy if he could avoid it.”

“Because you’re so strong?” Each of Dallion’s words was soaked with bitterness.

“Not as much as I was, but enough, especially now that I got a lot of my devices back. I know it’s the last thing you want to hear, but take the loss. No one will blame you. You’ll live to learn and grow stronger. Who knows, in a decade or so you might be the next archmage and rebuild the Academy.”

So far, Dallion had heard a lot of tempting offers. This wasn’t one of them. While being able to cast spells was nice, he never wanted to make a career of being a mage. Being a top tier hunter was more than enough, not that it was an option anymore. Even if he did survive through this and was forgiven, the world would be plunged into more chaos than the Star would have caused. At least Arthurows wanted to remove magic from the world and unite its inhabitants under his “benevolent” rule. If both the Academy and the Tamin Empire fell, everyone would rush to fill the vacuum with such ferocity that even the Order would be swept away.

“Be reasonable, dear boy. You’re out of options.”

Desperation wrecked Dallion’s mind. He could hear each and every separate thought screaming in his head. Questions, curses, advice, screams of self-pity… they kept going on and on, until suddenly one voice made a suggestion, causing all of them to cease.

“No,” Dallion said, a calm expression returning to his face. “I have one option.” He walked to the pillar that contained his spellcraft skills. “I don’t have to fight alone.”

“If you’re thinking of Harp, she can’t help you in the real world. It would take a Moon to allow a banished to return.”

“Not Harp,” Dallion whispered. “Something else.”