Chapter 284: The True Creator Still Watches
After Verdrak’s arrest, Lancet and his Heroines were escorted to the courtyard by the four remaining Councils and the four Awakeners.
"What’s going to happen to him?" Lancet asked Obel.
Obel glanced at the direction they had just passed then sighed in disappointment. He still couldn’t believe what his friend had done.
"Do not worry about him, Lancet," he assured. "Verdrak will be tried for treason and punished accordingly."
Lancet nodded.
Ressis approached, placing a comforting hand on Obel’s shoulder before walking towards Lancet. She took his hand in both of hers, her elegant features warm with genuine gratitude.
"You have changed the course of history today, Lancet Leogardt. I do not say that lightly. The world owes you a debt it can never fully repay."
Lancet shook his head. "I only did what needed to be done."
"And that," Ressis said with a smile, "is precisely what makes you remarkable."
The other Council Members followed suit, each offering their thanks and their apologies. Uren practically bowed. "I doubted you in the chamber. I was wrong. If there is ever anything the Council can do for you—"
"I’ll hold you to that," Lancet said with a grin.
Then Obel stepped forward. The Council Lord still looked shaken, but there was a lightness to him now, a sense of resolution. He shook Lancet’s hand firmly, his deep-set eyes meeting the young Summoner’s.
"Go with our thanks," he said. "And our hopes. What you have begun here today will echo through history."
He released Lancet’s hand and turned to face Spectra.
The Mother of Demons stood slightly apart from the group, her arms folded beneath her breasts, her expression carefully neutral. She gave Obel an eyebrow raise when she noticed he was looking at her.
’What in Hellfyre does he want?’
To her surprise, Obel bowed to her. It was a deep, formal bow, the kind of bow a Council Lord gave to a visiting Sovereign.
"Lady Spectra," he said, straightening. "On behalf of the Kingdom Council, past and present, I offer you my deepest apologies. The actions taken against you by this body, all those years ago, were unjust. Cruel. A betrayal of the very principles we claim to uphold."
He paused. "The Council of that era feared what they did not understand. They punished you for being different. For being something they could not control. That was wrong. And I am sorry."
Spectra stared at him.
For a long moment, her face was unreadable. The playful mask she usually wore was gone. The sardonic smile, the teasing glint in her crimson eyes were all absent.
She simply looked at Obel, not even knowing what to say.
Then she smiled. A genuine one, it seemed.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Council Lord," she said quietly. "Even if it is a century and a half late."
Obel nodded slowly. "Some debts can never be fully paid. But we must try."
Spectra inclined her head. She didn’t think all was forgiven, but she acknowledged the attempts of the old man.
Lancet looked at the giant wall clock by the far wall. "Shit. I have to be in the Academy in a few hours. That’s going to be a long ride from here."
Obel cleared his throat and turned to address the group. "Not to worry." He raised a hand, and a guard stepped forward. "Summon Portal Mage Corvin. He’s the best we have."
The guard saluted and hurried off.
Moments later, a man in flowing silver robes appeared. He had white hair and a uniquely bent staff.
"Portal Mage Corvin, at your service," he said with a theatrical bow. "One portal to the Awakener Supreme Academy, coming right up. Give me just a moment to calibrate the coordinates. These old buildings have so much magical interference, you wouldn’t believe—"
He wandered off, muttering to himself as he began tracing runes in the air.
Lancet and his Heroines stepped out through the massive bronze-and-rainbow gates and into the outer courtyard. The four Awakeners; Malakai, Azura, Steele, and Letika, followed them.
The courtyard was quieter now. The crowds of officials and servants and Brigadiers had dispersed, leaving only a few guards at their posts.
As they walked, Kestrel glanced at Steele and again at that massive sword strapped against his back.
She approached him. The broad-shouldered man with the scarred face looked down at her, one eyebrow rising.
"I was hoping," Kestrel said, hand reaching for one of her Dragonswords, "that we would have a duel before we left." Her sharp eyes gleamed with the light of challenge. "You carry yourself like a man who knows how to use that blade. I would like to see if it’s true. Do you accept?"
Steele’s scarred face split into a happy grin. "I’ve heard stories about the Emerald Blade since I was a boy. It would be an honor to cross swords with you, Lady Kestrel."
Lancet stepped between them, one hand raised, the other pinching the bridge of his nose. ’As expected of her I guess.’
"Kestrel," he looked at her. "My Grace is pretty low. I can’t keep you all anchored for much longer. If you start a duel right now and burn through what’s left—"
Kestrel sighed small. She released her grip on her Dragonsword and inclined her head toward Steele. "Perhaps next time, Knight."
Steele returned the nod. "I’ll hold you to it."
Azura stepped toward Spectra, excited to speak with her.
"Lady Spectra. I wanted to say..." She paused, searching for the right words. "It was an honor to meet you. Truly." She shook her head. "You’re not what I expected."
Spectra’s lips curved into a playful smile. "I rarely am, dear. But I’ll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one," Azura said, and she smiled back.
Malakai stepped forward, acknowledging each of them. "I hope we fight side by side one day. In the coming battle. It would be an honor to stand with legends."
Thor grinned and clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble. "You’re not so bad yourself, Berserker. For a man who helped put us in cuffs."
Malakai’s lips twitched. "Just doing my job."
"And you did it well," Astensia said, her voice warm. "There is no shame in serving with honor, even when the orders are... questionable."
Espel surprisingly chimed in. "Thank you for being fair with us. For examining the Demons. For..." She trailed off, not knowing how to pretend to care anymore than that.
"For doing our duty," Malakai finished for her. "You’re welcome."
Behind the group, standing apart from the farewells, Letika Sorrowind stood with her twisted oak staff. Her milky white eyes were fixed on nothing and everything, her expression serene and unreadable.
She had been silent throughout the entire ordeal, from the vehicle, to the Council Room, and now. Silent and watchful.
As the others exchanged their goodbyes, she remained still as a statue, her blind gaze seemingly lost in the middle distance.
Lancet noticed her.
He had been about to follow the others toward Portal Mage Corvin, who was still muttering and tracing runes in the air, when his eyes drifted toward the Oracle.
She was looking directly at him.
Lancet was certain of it, even though her eyes were milky white and sightless. She was looking at him.
Slowly, deliberately, Letika raised one thin finger and beckoned him toward her.
Lancet froze. ’She’s calling... me?’
He glanced at the others. They were still talking, still exchanging farewells. Only Spectra noticed. Her crimson eyes tracked him as he excused himself and walked toward the Oracle. She said nothing, but her gaze lingered.
Lancet stopped before Letika. Up close, her face was prettier than expected, everything had sharp angles. Even her expression which was utterly devoid of emotion.
Her white eyes stared through him and into him, seeing something beyond flesh and bone.
"You... called?" Lancet asked, half-spooked.
Letika leaned forward until her lips were beside his right ear. Her voice was the barest whisper, a breath of sound meant only for him.
"Be careful, fate maker. For the true creator still watches."
Lancet’s eyes went wide.
He pulled his head back, staring at her. His heart hammered against his ribs. His mind raced.
He stared at her, frantic, scared to his boots.
Did she know? How could she possibly know? No one in this world should know. No one could know. Unless—
Does she?
"Portal’s ready!"
Portal Mage Corvin’s cheerful voice shattered the moment. A swirling vortex of blue and silver light had materialized in the center of the courtyard.
Through it, Lancet could see the open fields of the Awakener Supreme Academy, the familiar spires of the main building, the distant figures of students crossing the quad.
"One direct portal to the Academy, as requested," Corvin announced proudly. "Smooth ride, guaranteed. Well. Mostly guaranteed. Ninety percent guaranteed. Eighty-five. Look, the point is..."
"Thank you, Portal Mage," Astensia said gently, cutting him off.
Lancet looked back at Letika. The Oracle had already stepped away, retreating to her position by the wall, her expression as serene and unreadable as ever.
She gave no sign that anything had passed between them.
"Lancet?" Espel called. "Are you coming?"
He swallowed. Forced his face into something resembling calm. "Yeah. Coming."
He turned and walked toward the portal, his mind still spinning with the Oracle’s words. Spectra fell into step beside him, her crimson eyes studying his face.
"Something the matter, Master dear?" she asked quietly.
Lancet shook his head. "Nothing. Just... saying goodbye."
Spectra said nothing. But her smile was knowing.
One by one, the Heroines stepped through the portal. Thor went first. Kestrel followed. Espel as well. Astensia paused at the threshold, looking back at the Kingdom Council Hall one last time. Then she stepped through.
Spectra went next, blowing a playful kiss toward Azura as she vanished into the blue light.
Lancet paused at the edge of the portal. He looked back at Letika one final time.
’The true creator still watches.’
Was she talking about the author? The guy he insulted and was sent into this world because of it?
Lancet knew he wouldn’t get answers. Oracles were never specific.
For now, he would have to watch his back and be ready for anything.
With that in mind, the Legend Summoner stepped through.