Chapter 84

WILL AND STRUCTURE

“Third Dynasty,” Augustus said, breaking the silence. “I don’t believe that’s from my world.”

Erasmus glanced up from examining a floating cube. “No, it wouldn’t be. The Third Dynasty was the dominant magical empire of my world, two millennia past. They perfected arcane notation before the Empire of Stars conquered and absorbed their knowledge.”

“And these symbols?” Augustus gestured at the nearest cube. “What do they actually do?”

Erasmus’s hand drifted to his belt, fingers checking pouches in sequence. His spellbook’s pages flipped with each touch, likely confirming their contents.

“They’re runic script. The foundation upon which all arcane languages were built.” His voice shifted, taking on a practiced cadence. “These particular runes are quite primitive, actually. Simple effect generators. Fire, force, spatial distortion at the basic level. One need only pulse magic through them to activate their base properties, though in an arena like this they will do little.”

Augustus watched the man fall into what was clearly a familiar rhythm. A teacher, then. Maybe even a professor despite his apparent youth.

“Modern casting has refined these crude forms into precise instruments,” Erasmus continued, gesturing at symbols he could read like text. “What once required entire ritual circles, we now achieve with a word and gesture. Though of course, proper material focus is still essential for—”

The wizard caught himself, eyes narrowing as he studied Augustus. “Even a hedge mage should know such fundamentals. How could you possibly have obtained a power the System deems worthy of my attention?”

Augustus shrugged, not knowing how to respond to the sudden shift in conversation.

“What exactly are ‘superpowers’?” Erasmus asked. “The System’s translation is imprecise.”

“Abilities shaped by people’s desires,” Augustus said after a moment’s thought. “Enforced upon reality by their Will alone.”

The spellbook’s pages flipped rapidly as Erasmus processed this. “Will alone? No structure? No study?” Interest flickered across his features. “Chaotic, but... intriguing.”

“You recognize the drone technology,” Augustus observed. “I’m surprised.”

Erasmus scoffed. “Do you take us for primitives? We conquered the stars while your world was still discovering fire. Our mana-ships fold space itself, traveling between solar systems in heartbeats.” He gestured dismissively at the drone. “Your device is quaint. Whatever solution it is using to hover, we solved it centuries ago with magic. Why build crude machines when reality itself bends to educated Will?”

“Technology is a crutch,” Erasmus continued, “for those who cannot shape reality directly.”

Silence stretched between them. Then Erasmus touched his belt again, a gesture Augustus now recognized as a nervous habit.

“There are... inefficiencies in classical methods,” the man said. “Power should flow from Will alone, not be bound by material anchors.” His fingers lingered on one pouch. “I have spent half a century mastering forms that constrain as much as empower. Learning spell circles that require components that tether magic to the physical. I want more. Enough to fill even the greatest of our Archmages with envy.”

Augustus understood then. Erasmus needed what he had: casting without materials, without complex forms. Raw Will that could shape magic into reality.

It was almost poetic. He needed something to add complexity to his simplistic arcane castings, while this man, apparently older than he looked, wanted the ability to wield magic with mere thought.

Both men’s attention shifted to the pedestals between them. Erasmus’s book settled on a specific page. Augustus’s drone drifted higher, perhaps sensing from their behaviour that something was about to change.

Neither spoke again. The time for words had passed.

The barriers fell.

And the arena erupted into chaos as the grid-like pattern revealed itself to be something more. Cubes disconnected from each other, some rising, others falling, still more spinning out in every direction.

Augustus kept his balance as his platform fragmented, riding the cube beneath him as it drifted upward. He stayed low, one hand on the surface, watching the storm of blocks unfold. Trying to find a pattern. The cubes moved with purpose, he was certain, but the logic escaped him.

“Vel’thari nex,” Erasmus called out from somewhere in the chaos.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The System remained silent. No translation came. Augustus realized with a sinking feeling that the wizard’s spells were being deliberately obscured. He wouldn’t know what was coming until it hit.

Through gaps in the shifting battlefield, he caught glimpses of the pedestals. They’d separated when the central platform shattered, each riding its own cube now, drifting in opposite directions through the churning mass. Both glowed with identical golden lights. There was no way to tell which was his target.

A flash of midnight robes above caught his attention. Erasmus had taken the simplest solution to the chaos: he was flying over it. The wizard moved with casual speed toward the nearest pedestal, completely ignoring the mayhem below.

Augustus made a quick calculation. Racing for the other pedestal would be too predictable. The wizard would see him coming, strike him down from above. Better to attack first, disrupt the wizard’s plan.

He opened a portal to a cube rotating overhead, one whose path would carry it above Erasmus. Augustus stepped through instantly, emerging just as the platform aligned. The wizard was below him now, focused entirely on his prize.

He raised his hand and conjured fire, flicking the wand in the wizard’s direction.

The attack caught Erasmus between shoulder blades. His smooth flight faltered as he spun, throwing up a shield with a sharp phrase Augustus couldn’t understand. The follow up bolts of fire splashed harmlessly against the barrier.

“Kash’tel mor!”

A bolt of lightning as thick as his arm burst from the tip of the wizard’s staff.

Augustus had already portaled away, emerging on a different cube in the wizard’s blindspot. He immediately sent another attack dancing across the space between them, this time a spike of ice, before stepping through another hastily conjured portal.

Erasmus spun and deflected it with his staff, the equations along its length flaring bright. His spellbook’s pages flipped rapidly as he searched for Augustus’s new position.

Portal. Attack. Portal. Attack.

Augustus fell into a rhythm, never staying in one place long enough for the wizard to target him. Fire from above. Force from below. Ice from the left. Lightning from the right. Each spell was cast with intense focus and Will. None of them landed.

It took Erasmus four exchanges to notice.

“You’re not speaking,” the wizard said, hovering in place as a force blast dissipated against a shield he’d just conjured. His eyes widened. “No incantations. You’re casting without...”

He sent three rapid-fire bolts blasting toward the man. The third one cracked through Erasmus’s weakened shield, only to be deflected against by a practiced swing of the staff.

“No components!” Erasmus’s voice rose to something near a shriek. “No formulaic gestures! How are you casting?!”

Augustus said nothing, just kept attacking. Another portal. Another angle. Another quick spell.

He hadn’t considered this weakness in his strategy. His training with Alexander’s drone had been extensive, but that had been in stable environments. He hadn’t accounted for rapid battlefield repositioning via portals. Each time he stepped through, he was closing the portal immediately behind him, a tactical habit to prevent enemies following or identifying his new location.

But that meant the drone couldn’t follow. It was constantly maneuvering through the shifting cube maze, trying to catch up to his new position, arriving just as he portaled away again at best, never quite reaching him at worst.

He could send it to attack Erasmus directly, but given his shields, it would likely accomplish nothing beyond revealing the tactic too early. No, he needed the drone close. Its defensive capabilities augmented by his shield magic might save his life if Erasmus managed to strike true.

“This is impossible!” The wizard’s shield shattered under the combined assault of fire and ice. He threw up another immediately, stronger this time, his hands diving into his component pouches. “Magic has rules! Structure! You can’t just... you can’t...”

The next shield held against five hits before cracks appeared.

But then Erasmus’s expression changed. The panic faded, replaced by something Augustus hadn’t expected: wonder.

“This is it,” the wizard breathed, floating backward as Augustus’s attacks continued.

“This is exactly what I sought. Casting through pure Will alone!” His laughter echoed across the chaotic space with a manic edge. “Do you understand what this means? The Archmages said it was impossible! They’ve mocked my theories for years!”

Augustus used the distraction to press harder, summoning his largest fireball yet.

“They’ll have to accept it now!” Erasmus deflected the attack almost absently, his mind clearly racing. “Proof that magic doesn’t need their rigid structures! That Will alone can shape reality!”

The wizard’s eyes blazed with fervor. “A decade of being told I was wrong, and here you are, proving every word I wrote! Abilities, you said? No! Magic!”

He opened another portal and leaped through.

Erasmus blinked, seeming to remember where he was. His gaze snapped up to one of the pedestals with its golden sphere, now only a short distance away.

“But first,” he said, “I need that power for myself.”

He shot upward, abandoning defense entirely. Augustus’s attack struck empty air where he’d been hovering.

Augustus portaled ahead of him, trying to cut him off. Trying to reach the orb before he arrived. He sent a bolt of his own lightning streaking over the orb, directly along Erasmus’s path. The wizard blasted through it without slowing, shield flaring.

Another portal. Augustus emerged onto the cube holding the pedestal itself, with only seconds before Erasmus reached him. He lunged for the orb.

“Mor’dun sharek vel’thari nolox!”

The longest phrase yet from Erasmus. A wall of force erupted in front of Augustus, cutting him off from the pedestal. It wasn’t like the translucent barriers from before, but something that almost hummed with energy, something that looked almost solid. Then the wall slammed hard into him, sending his wand spinning away into the air, and carrying him away from the pedestal. Off the small cube. Then he was falling.

The wizard landed, hand already reaching for his prize. Erasmus’s fingers closed on the sphere.

Augustus held a single, momentary hope that it was the wrong sphere. That the one he needed was floating out there, lost in the chaos of shifting blocks.

Light exploded outward, crushing that hope, and drowning everything for a single instant in white brilliance.