Arcanist In Another World-Chapter 75: Throne

The arms of the throne chilled his bones. The thick shroud wavered and churned about him. It choked everything around his body. His legs. His arms. His face. Left only his eyes in the open.

Where am I? What is… happening?

He tried to move, but his arms were pinned down to the throne. His whole body nailed into it as though a corpse propped by invisible strings to remain seated. He couldn’t move, but they were staring at him, demanding in silence an answer to that question.

No, wait… Not all of them are staring at me. The woman who spoke just now, she is looking at that old man… Is that Baht?

Valens opened his mouth, but words refused to come out. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move an inch as the six people stared at him.

What the hell is going on here? Why can’t I speak? I can’t even move.

“We should first acknowledge the statue,” said the old man. Valens couldn’t see the entirety of his face, but the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes matched the tone of his voice.

Hold on. He said statue. So that means… I’m the statue?!

“But how?” said the one across from him, a young woman with sparkling blue eyes, still staring at the old man as if spellbound. She was the same one who asked the first question. “Baht, you were taken--”

“As much as I’m flattered by your genuine inquiries about my situation, I presume we all would rather prefer to be seated comfortably before we move on with this conversation,” the man said, and smiled. “Shall we?”

“Ah… Yes…” the woman mumbled.

The others remained silent.

They all bowed toward Valens in muted respect.

This is too strange.

The sigils carved atop each gilded chair gleamed as the throne underneath Valens pulsed with a faint rhythm of frequencies. He heard them clearly over the Resonance, demanding a price for a ritual. A deed to breathe life across this hall.

Life…

The Resonance changed.

From within his chest cavity, waves of mana poured out to the throne, condensing into elongated threads of mana that slithered down through the armrests and into the ground, filling the circle carved atop the fog that housed the throne inside. It glowed, and its lights spattered over to the rest of the rings that were underneath the gilded chairs.

In moments, the hall was alive with blue lights, sparkling through the thick shroud of fog, casting long, dancing shadows across the long table that stretched from between the chairs.

“With your permission,” the group said at the same time while Valens remained as still as a statue.

Am I supposed to just sit here and be stared at like a glorious piece of art? They look like they expect me to give them permission. But I can’t move! Something— Ah, never mind. Looks like they’re done with me.

Without waiting for a word from him, each member of the group took their seats by the table, made themselves comfortable against the very insistent gaze of Valens. And even though there was enough lifemana in this hall to heal thousands of people, not even a drop of it was at Valens’s service.

“Before you ask any questions, let me be very clear about one thing,” Baht spoke the moment everyone was seated. “It’s true that I’ve returned, but I have not an inkling of an idea as to how and why such a turn of events has happened.”

“You were taken by the Veiled Mother’s court,” the young woman said, voice still hesitant. “I have heard with these ears of mine that you were taken to the Land of the Fated. Given to the Wretched Mother by the Sun’s Church. Not even a true Divine could’ve escaped from that depthless pit, let alone you.”

“I see that in my absence, certain things remained the same,” Baht chuckled. “You are as direct as ever, Vireth, but no, it wasn’t my own efforts that saved me from the Veiled Mother’s court.”

“Then how?” Vireth insisted. “Baht, it’s been nearly fifty years!”

“And I’d thought it would be a hundred years, a thousand even, in that pitch-black eternity, but…” Baht breathed in deep. “Two weeks ago, there was a disturbance in the Land of the Fated. Something, or someone, interfered with the threads of fate.”

Oh, was that me?

If he could’ve moved his eyebrows, Valens would’ve blinked at those words. It surely was a strange feeling hearing it from another person’s mouth as though it was a mythical deed.

Well, he did speak of it as if it was a momentous feat.

“Interfered with the threads of fate?” Vireth visibly stiffened. “But only a—“

“Yes,” Baht nodded. “I felt an Ancient presence resonate with my soul. It forced a way into the Veiled Mother’s land. Ripped the link of the Weeping Horror in such short time that the very foundation of the Spiritum trembled in response. My chains broke, and I heard a call beckoning at me. The only thing I had to do was let it draw my soul back to the Haven’s Reach.”

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

“Ancient presence?” Vireth echoed. “Can’t be…”

Oh, it can, Miss. It sure can, I should know.

“What was it like?” another voice said, belonging to a man who had a sharp jaw and a pair of deep, blue eyes. He straightened his back. “What did you see?”

Yes, Baht, what did you see there?

“I’m afraid I didn’t see much of anything,” Baht said deeply. He commanded the attention of the group with such ease that even Valens lost himself in his manner of speech. “I only felt that call. It prickled my skin. I let it drag me from the Land of the Fated, and then, the moment I returned to the Haven’s Reach, I… lost touch with it.”

The group fell silent, faces heavy. Valens studied each of them and found that none of the members of this secret assembly had any idea that he’d been the one who accidentally saved this famous heretic from the Wretched Mother’s land.

I’ve thought the Sun’s Church did something to him, but then… It was never made clear to me what truly happened to this man. I’ve only heard mentions of his cult, the work of his selfless Healers. Hell, I’ve been taken as one on multiple occasions, so it’s rather strange to sit here and listen to him in person.

“Strange things are happening,” the blue-eyed man said after the long silence. “First, the robbery at the Warden’s Library, and then the sudden appearance of an Ancient presence. You also mentioned the Weeping Horror. Wasn’t that thing sealed right after the Ancient Era?”

“It was a Remnant,” Baht said. “I suppose someone made a contract with it and used an ancient ritual to summon its echo to the Haven’s Reach. I’m not aware of the particulars, but do tell me more about that robbery. The Warden’s Library… Even I couldn’t find a way in after all the preparations I’d done prior to the revelation.”

“The attempt at revelation, you meant to say,” Vireth giggled softly. “If my memory serves me right, you failed quite miserably, and proved to the Sun’s Church that they were right to fear the Healers.”

“But the rule has changed, hasn’t it?” Baht chuckled. “And I have passed my Fourth Trial thanks to it even while caged in the Spiritum. I believe that makes me the first one among us who crossed the Level 400 line? Hah… Fortune indeed favors the brave.”

“Or the fool, depending on where you’re looking at it,” the other woman of the group said silently. “After all, you would’ve remained a slave for eternity if not for that sudden interruption.”

“It was an… experience, to say the least,” Baht admitted.

“About the Warden’s Library,” Vireth muttered. “My eyes told me that two weeks ago, someone broke in without making as much as a sound. They stole two things. Veil and Resonance, the booklets of the Ancient Traits that have been there since the Ancient Age.”

“Oh?” Baht said.

“Yes, but there is one thing that doesn’t make any sense,” the blue-eyed man chimed in. “We can assume someone from the Wretched Mother’s court is after Veil, but Resonance? Even if the Wretched Mother herself were to wake from her slumber, she couldn’t have pried into the details of one true Trait of the Surgemasters.”

Resonance? Is that…

Valens was taken aback. Resonance had been one of the few things he hadn’t lost when he completed that ritual. The songs of the world remained with him, and had been acknowledged by the System as a Trait. Even though he didn’t know what a Trait was, he always assumed it was about a person’s core talent, or a gift.

Though it did take me long years to master the frequencies.

There were others in the Empire, Life Magi who could hear the frequencies even if they lacked true command over them. Even those were few in number, let alone the Resonant Healers like him and his Master. They had been the only ones in the past hundred years who could claim the title, which they proudly accepted as a sign of their expertise.

So this means… Master has the heritage in his blood as well?

He had been the one who suddenly brought the Void Sphere to him. Valens had never given much thought to it since his chaotic welcome to this world demanded most of his attention, but now, as he thought back to their last conversation, it occurred to him that Master Eldras hadn’t been truly honest with him about certain things.

If he knew, wouldn’t he have told me something?

But then, their plan all along was to attempt the ritual together. If things had gone the way they should, he would’ve arrived in this world with his Master by his side. The Inquisition’s interference spoiled everything, and at the last minute, it was thanks to Master Eldras’s sacrifice that Valens managed to escape that prison.

Master… You knew about the connected worlds, didn’t you? You knew, yet didn’t want to tell me. I was the one who forced you to continue with that search. I was the one who pushed over and over again your hand in this matter. Without me, you wouldn’t have gone through with this…

“There is movement in Belgrave, as well,” Vireth said. “The Veiled Mother’s court is gathering there. I have it on good authority that in the lower-class ring of the capital, the unfortunate are finding relief for their troubles in exchange for dark promises. The last time this happened, thousands had died.”

Valens barely heard her over the thoughts churning in his mind. His heart thumped in his chest. He sat there with his fingers tingling and body growing cold, his skin stretching tight across the nape of his neck. The fact that he couldn’t tear his hands away from this damned throne only further fueled the fury burning inside of him.

He had been a fool. A damn, blind fool who couldn’t see the obvious before his eyes. The worst part was that it was too late. He couldn’t do anything. Not now, not as the man he was now.

“You think it’s someone’s Trial?” the blue-eyed man asked.

Valens ground his teeth as he struggled against the ethereal bindings. He had to get away. Do something about this fury in his chest. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t breathe.

The throne pulsed.

The bindings tightened. A shriek of Resonance tore through his inner ear. A twisted echo, sharp as glass, trying to pierce through the fog of his mind.

Then, something cracked.

“It couldn’t— What is happening?” Vireth said, peering hesitantly across the hall.

“Did you hear it?” the blue-eyed man asked.

“It’s…” Baht said, gazing at Valens. “Coming from the statue.”

The crack deepened.

Valens gasped as the shroud thickened around the throne, then recoiled as if repelled by some unseen force.

The table before the six assembly members flickered in and out of sight. The air trembled with Resonance. A low hum rose beneath them all, like the deep murmur of some ancient beast turning in its slumber.

Valens could feel the throne itself writhing beneath him.

The ethereal bindings hissed.

One by one, they frayed.

And then they broke.

Valens came to himself with a long, wheezing breath. His chest hurt. Pieces of the ethereal bindings crumbled down around him, dissolved into a shroud of light across the ground.

I… I need something. Anything.

He felt his spells. They came back to him. Every one of them.

It didn’t take long for him to make a choice.

Apathy embraced him like an old friend, the steely net settling right over his emotions. It muted the pain. Silenced the fury. Until all that was left was the stark indifference that took hold of Valens’s mind.

Notifications blinked.

[An Ancient’s Throne stirs in the Spiritum.]

[It has found its faithful owner.]

[The songs of the world have been heard.]

[They resonate with His soul.]

Everybody stared at him.

“This…” Vireth gasped.

Baht’s voice quivered as he spoke, “S-Surgemaster?”

“Yes,” Valens said simply. “Tell me more about this Belgrave.”

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