The Lone Wanderer

“So, this is the young man who has flipped the whole planet on its head…” the White who’d saved Machaon muttered softly.

Through their blurry vision, Percy and Micky saw that it was a tall, middle-aged man with mostly dark hair, though a few white strands had appeared in his temples. Signs of aging were obviously rare for high-borns, and that was doubly true for one who had risen to the man’s current grade. He had to be over ten thousand years old, making him not only older than Machaon, but possibly the single oldest mortal that Percy had ever seen on Remior.

He was dressed in elegant white robes embroidered with thin threads of solid gold, depicting a series of roots emerging from the underside of a cloud. The expensive clothes did little to conceal the White’s muscular physique, though it wasn’t clear whether the ancient mage’s fighting style required a strong body, or working out was merely a hobby of his.

Percy wasn’t the most knowledgeable about matters of the Great Houses, but even he knew enough to easily recognize Theseus: the man that Lord Asclepius had just requested help from, as well as the patriarch of the Divine Root.

Judging from the transparent, barely perceptible tattoos on his exposed skin, the patriarch probably possessed either the time or gravity affinity, and Percy was experienced enough to tell that it was the latter.

By his side stood a somewhat younger, lankier man, dressed in simpler but still clearly expensive black robes. He had short, blond hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes, the image of a lion sleeping on its front paws depicted on his insignia. He had to be Morpheus, the leader of House Ypnos.

Thankfully, the second White possessed a much-less-impressive water affinity, along with, hopefully, the same sleep-inducing bloodline as his subordinates: the one that Percy and Micky were immune to.

Seemingly not in a rush to resort to violence, Theseus took his sweet time scanning the ravaged battlefield, with Morpheus crossing his arms and waiting patiently for his partner to finish whatever he was doing.

Examining the bubbling ocean of lava that stretched as far as the eye could see, and the frozen patches of solid ground protruding from the liquid here and there, the gravity mage let out an impressed whistle.

His gaze eventually settled on the strange ground beneath everyone’s feet. It was a disk-shaped platform several hundreds of metres wide, spanning the same area that the Lone Wanderer’s apocalyptic formation had affected just minutes earlier. It was still covered in a thick layer of grey frost that showed no sign of melting.

The surrounding lava slowed down and froze before it came anywhere close to the magical ice, and the air above the crystalline floor was cold enough to make a person’s breath visible. If somebody remained perfectly still for a couple of seconds, frost would begin to spread onto their boots. This had already happened to Theseus and Morpheus, so they had to shake themselves out of their fragile prisons.

“Not bad,” the patriarch concluded, flashing Percy and Micky a warm, almost fatherly smile. “It seems that the rumours about you weren’t exaggerated in the slightest. If anything, they’d fallen short. Say… do you think that there is any way to resolve this matter peacefully?”

Percy raised an eyebrow within the shadow of his hood, having not expected Theseus to attempt diplomacy at this late stage: especially when he appeared to hold all the cards.

Then again, it made sense. Unlike with Machaon, there was no deep-rooted enmity between them. Sure, the Divine Root had sent a bunch of bounty hunters after them in the past, but that had largely been Deimos’ doing, and the sound mage had already paid the price for his crimes.

One might argue that Theseus still bore much of the responsibility for those events, since he was the leader of his family, but Percy wasn’t going to drag the whole planet into a war just to settle a bunch of petty, personal grievances. The truth was that nobody but Machaon had anything to gain from the carnage.

Even the plasma mage would have probably been happy to drop the matter if given the option. Now that he could use the Aurora Dew to attain divinity, he no longer had a reason to keep the royal wasp imprisoned or attack other families. Unfortunately for him, Phoebe wouldn’t have let him off the hook if not for some type of deal to pose a challenge to Percy, and the latter had already rallied several Houses against Machaon.

Despite how reasonable Theseus sounded, Percy and Micky would be fools to place all their hopes on the possibility of sweet-talking their enemies into a ceasefire. Not in a hurry to respond to the gravity mage, they tried to take some precautions in case things went south.

‘Nephthys, how much longer?’ they asked through one of their cords. At the same time, they pushed themselves up to their single remaining foot, stabilizing themselves with their domain.

‘She should be arriving in a couple of minutes,’ the familiar responded promptly, though her answer caused them to smile bitterly.

A couple of minutes was an eternity under the circumstances. Discretely scanning their surroundings for reinforcements, Percy and Micky spotted two large armies marching in the distance. Unfortunately, they were coming from the wrong directions, so they had to be the Divine Root and House Ypnos’ forces.

Thankfully, the weaker mages had been slowed down by the ocean of magma that they presumably had to cool or form bridges on.

Percy and Micky didn’t dare to look away from the patriarchs, so they could only hope that their own allies were also approaching from somewhere behind them. Even if they were, it would be a while before they arrived.

‘It’s just us then,’ they thought with a mental nod, reaching into their spatial seal and emptying a few vials of healing ink into Percy’s veins while summoning their final trump card into one of their clenched fists. They didn’t know if it would be enough to keep a pair of empowered Whites at bay, but they didn’t have that many options.

Well, they did have a portion of Clear life mana in their seal as well. Metatron had allowed Percy to keep it as compensation for when a malfunction in the Vault’s system had forced him to repair Cassiel’s second core with his own resources. The potent source of healing would probably regrow Percy’s missing leg in an instant, but he didn’t want to consume something that he had no way of replenishing unless absolutely necessary.

The corner of Theseus’ lips curled up as he clearly realized that Percy and Micky were stalling, though he didn’t press them, probably thinking that he was in complete control of the situation.

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“Depends,” the Lone Wanderer finally responded to the patriarch’s earlier question. “Are you prepared to let him die?” he asked while pointing at Machaon’s mutilated body with his chin.

Lord Asclepius was probably in a lot of pain, but still conscious and staring back defiantly.

Percy and Micky didn’t feel too strongly about the Divine Root and House Ypnos, yet they wouldn’t even entertain the idea of letting Machaon off. Even if they ignored what the bastard had nearly done to the whole planet, there was no erasing today’s bloodshed, nor the massacre of Nesha’s family. Percy would never be able to look his girlfriend in the eye again if he struck a deal that involved sparing the mastermind behind the atrocity.

Theseus clicked his tongue in irritation, obviously unhappy with these terms. “Die? Just because you said so? Child, I’ve known Machaon for thousands of years: since before your House was founded. You were born yesterday.”

“And yet, I’ve done more for Remior since yesterday than you old fossils ever did. Machaon almost tore everything down.”

The patriarch sighed. “I won’t deny that. I was also appalled when I heard what my friend had done, but there is no use in focusing on the past. The hive survived, and our world has grown stronger. Is this really a good time for Remior’s most valuable assets to be killing each other? Right as we’re in the process of evolving into a greater spring?”

Percy and Micky had to suppress a chuckle. “Valuable assets? The three of you lowlifes?”

“You insolent little–“ Morpheus didn’t appreciate the insult, trying to press the Lone Wanderer to the ground with his domain.

He was probably used to bullying the juniors in his family like this, but Percy and Micky weren’t going to let a pompous asshole push them around. Exhausted as they were, they unleashed their willpower to block the patriarch’s, distorting the air between them and causing the frozen ground to finally crack.

The leader of House Ypnos appeared ready to escalate, his core flaring with mana as his soul flickered with ill-concealed anger. However, Theseus raised his arm to calm his ally down, clearly not ready to give up on diplomacy just yet.

“No Yellow-born on Remior has reached the Clear grade yet, which means that, outside the Divine Order, the patriarchs of the Great Houses are the mages closest to the Concept realm. What would you call us if not assets?”

Percy and Micky shook their head. “You just have a bit of a head-start over the rest of us, that’s all. I’ve seen the best that the universe has to offer, and the lot of you don’t make the cut. Even here on Remior, I know plenty of people who will surpass you given enough time.”

Morpheus clenched his fists hard enough to drain them of their colour, though he had no words to refute the Lone Wanderer’s statement.

“Be that as it may, there is no need to resort to violence today. If we can all come to an understanding, the gods might choose to respect it,” Theseus insisted.

Percy frowned, realizing why the patriarch of the Divine Root was being so cautious. Machaon had probably roped Theseus into joining by fearmongering about Percy’s potential retaliation. Theseus was afraid of letting him be, as he would eventually grow too powerful for even a White to handle, and Theseus might no longer even have Machaon and Morpheus by his side when that happened.

At the same time, the gravity mage had to understand that harming Percy was inherently risky. Since Phoebe actively wanted them to push him, she might not punish them if they ended up killing him. Even if she did, she might focus on Machaon: who had committed a crime worthy of death: rather than his reluctant accomplices.

Still, Theseus had no way of being certain, so his best course of action was to play both sides and try to broker some kind of agreement, while defaulting to Machaon’s side when push came to shove.

Technically, Percy and Micky had a way to put the patriarch’s worries to rest. Using Kerfyl’s Decree, they could sign a binding spectral contract with Theseus and Morpheus that would prevent either side from going after the other in the future, so long as they were willing to hand Machaon over to die.

However, they didn’t even bother to bring that possibility up. Since the two Whites had chosen to work together with a piece of shit like Machaon, they could follow him to his grave. Remior’s nobility was long overdue for new leadership anyway, and the Lone Wanderer had no intention of placing such restrictions on his soul for their sake.

Likely having realized that Percy and Micky had made their minds up, Theseus finally decided to drop all pretences. A vision of a thick column of pure force manifested above their head, about to stomp them into meat paste. Their Sage’s Pond still wasn’t working properly, but the patriarch wasn’t trying to be sneaky.

With Percy’s body sore from head to toe and his unstable mana being entirely off-limits, he only had his willpower to rely on. There was no way his domain would be enough to stop even one of his opponents, let alone both.

But what if he had four domains?

Clenching the zelesian beads inside his hand, he willed them to activate, thanking his lucky stars that he’d had the foresight to hold onto them with his main body after recharging them, instead of passing them on to the clones.

An explosion of pure force shattered and peeled away not only the ice beneath Percy’s foot but even several metres of rock underneath that, expanding towards his opponents.

The Symphony of a Dead Winter reached a new crescendo as the gravity spell hanging above the Lone Wanderer’s head burst into colourless motes like a mere soap bubble. The enemy patriarchs were too preoccupied with escaping the shockwave to form a new attack.

Since Machaon was completely naked and didn’t even have any limbs, Theseus was forced to grab his mutilated colleague by the neck, slinging him over his shoulder like a blood-soaked sack of potatoes as he and Morpheus flew away.

Mixing with the Lone Wanderer’s actual domain, the ones produced by the transparent orbs shook the entire platform with enough force to crack even Percy’s reinforced bones, despite him being the owner of the willpower in theory.

His domain didn’t grow four times stronger: not exactly: since those of the beads still fell a little short of the real thing. They were also difficult to control, feeling rather stiff and unresponsive. Even if they had been identical, a quantitative upgrade wouldn’t necessarily translate to the corresponding qualitative improvement.

Despite its shortcomings, the violent hurricane of willpower spiralling around Percy and Micky was undoubtedly the closest thing to a demigod’s domain that anyone on Remior had ever produced without reaching the Clear grade.

Overcoming their shock, Theseus and Morpheus probably realized that they had to get rid of their opponent now: before he received help. They unleashed a desperate barrage of gravity and water blasts, trying to pulverize the weakened figure hiding within.

Percy’s brain throbbed painfully against his skull as he and Micky struggled to bat each and every incoming spell aside. The fact that they couldn’t properly predict their trajectories wasn’t helping, nor was their inability to move a centimetre from their spot to dodge, chase after their opponents, or meaningfully fight back.

In theory, the beads inside Percy’s hand were perfectly mobile, so the domain they released could follow him around, though the stiff willpower was difficult to wield even when held steady, and Percy’s body was still a complete mess. Even if he consumed the life mana to regrow his leg, the instability inside his cores made it difficult to move.

After what felt like forever: but had probably only been a minute or two: an enormous shape tore through the clouds, entering the battle in a manner not too dissimilar from what Percy and Micky had done earlier.

And just like the two of them while chasing Machaon around, the newcomer was an airborne beast about a hundred metres from antennae to stinger, her ruby carapace illuminated by four sets of amber, indigo, azure and purple lines, shrouded in a film of bubbling acid.

The three mages duking it out on the ground were forced to slow down as the colossal creature landed behind Percy with six deafening thuds that caused the whole area to shake.

A fourth domain more powerful than a regular White’s joined the clash as the Starry Queen’s: no... The Ruby Empress’: compound eyes reflected the mutilated body of the man who had stolen her daughter from her.

A/N: Chapter 697: Empress