Chapter 527: Arete
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Tower Master Castro of the Order of the Gray Owl had not been wrong when he told Argrave that he was not famous. He endeavored a great deal to ensure that was not the case, because he much preferred a calm life beneath the shade than one where he was cooked by the scrutiny of the sun. His A-rank ascension was not known even among the upper echelons of the Order. Castro had never needed toāand never dared toācall upon it against his foes. He had considered offering to use it for Mozzahr, but in the end, he knew Argrave would refuse. Now, times were different, and Castroās conviction was stronger.
After living for well over three hundred years, Castro had left his mark in magic, in his apprentice Ingo, and now hoped to leave his last mark here in defense of a rising sun.
When Argraveās eyes again fell upon Castro after a long period of silent contemplation, he knew that the decision had been made. He was proud of the young king for making the choice he viewed as most pragmatic, if a bit guilty that his death would weigh on the young manās conscience. He had tried to impart some lessons of leadership onto Argrave, and there was some irony that those selfsame lessons would lead to his death in this moment. It was for the best.
The plan was made, but Castro didnāt need to pay much attention. His role was exceedingly simple, and so it needed no special attention. He was reminded of a conversation that heād had with Rowe the Righteous, strangely enough.
Castro remembered sitting in his office in the tower, staring at that arrogant and tall wizard from Veiden. Then, he proposed a game for each to guess the otherās A-rank ascension.
āWeāll play word games, like proper old men. I can give you a one-word riddle. Youāll give me one in turn. Weāll guess.ā
āInteresting. Go ahead,ā Rowe leaned back in his chair.
Castro thought on it for a long time, then said deliberately, āAge.ā
āHmmā¦ā Rowe tilted his head. āLimits.ā
He didnāt think either of them had ever came near discovering the otherās secret, but that didnāt matter overmuch. Neither had the intention to tell the other, anyhow.
Once the plan was delivered, Castro and Argrave set off alone through the tunnels that Argrave had explored thoroughly. They headed for the heart of the city, where the Shadowlanders appeared most densely. Argrave showed him an exit, leading up into a bakery that was partially destroyed. Castro could hear the chaos and screams above, but Argrave stopped him.
āCastro. Maybeā¦ maybe weāre being hasty,ā the young king said, no confidence in his tone. āSophiaās shown to have the power to restore things, to revert them. If we could make the Alchemist turn into the Smiling Raven, and then turn him back with her powerā¦ all of this could be avoided.ā
Castro put his hand on Argraveās shoulder. āAre you sure itāll work? And can you bear the consequences if you tamper with things beyond their ken, only for all to go awry?ā When Argrave couldnāt answer, Castro took his hand away, his point proven. āTo allow the hope of beating Gerechtigkeit forevermore roam free, to save a child that the world itself has deigned to doomā¦ I cannot think of a more fitting end. I will join with my wife and child in the afterlife, if there is one. And if not, this was still a life well lived.ā
He couldnāt tell exactly what Argrave was thinking, but he knew that the young king would not soon forgive himself. Still, Castro felt a little glad to be taking this next step. He knew there was always more to do in lifeā¦ but at the same time, he felt he had done enough. That was the crux of his power. And so he ascended the ladder.
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Argrave returned through the tunnels beneath the city as fast as he could, fearing that they would cave in on him at any moment. He rejoined the rest of his party just outside of the grain silo in the countryside, where Sophia again broke off from Anneliese to come join him anxiously.
He picked her up and looked back toward the city. āWeāll be moving a bit quickly, Sophia, once Castro does his part. Iāll need you to hang onto me tightly.ā
Sophia nodded intently, then stared at Argrave. āIām sorry.ā
Argrave looked into her eyes. He could see guilt written as clear as day as she teared up. She was clearly a clever child, but they hadnāt been unsubtle about things. āIt isnāt your fault. Itās mine.ā
āNo! If I didnāt exist, mister Castro wouldnāt have to...ā Sophia laid her head against Argraveās shoulder, shivering.
āYou deserve to exist, Sophia. Donāt ever think otherwise,ā Argrave said, practically by instinct. Still, hearing her guilt allowed Argrave to confront his own squarely. He comforted her quietly, but couldnāt muster words that felt like a lie even to himself. Anneliese joined Argrave, hovering close by as silent support. Onychinusa, meanwhile, walked to the other side of Argrave.
āAre you so certain that the old man can even do it?ā the ancient elf asked. āI meanā¦ things are getting bad out there. And heās not that tough. Iāve seen him fight.ā
Argrave cast a simple illusion to suppress soundāsomething he wish heād done earlier, if only to preserve Sophiaās already battered mindāthen nodded at Onychinusa. āYeah. The Shadowlanders, the golemsā¦ when Castro is done, weāll have our opening.ā
āWhy are you so certain?ā Onychinusa looked at Argrave squarely.
āBecause Castroās lived a long life. And a life that long and bright, finally burning out, thereās no other term more fitting than āsupernova.ā Orā¦ maybe there is a more fitting term. Castro knows it well. Itās what his ascension is named, after all.ā
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When Castro developed his A-rank ascension, the only thing that allowed him to break through that barrier was one of the worst years of his life. It was the year his son perished from an incurable withering illness, and his wife killed herself not long after. His magical advancement had stalled for a long, long while after this occurrence. Confronting it squarely decades after it happened proved to be the catalyst. In his contemplations into life, death, and the meaning of existence, Castro found an answer of sorts.
Castro had long lamented the life he mightāve had if things had gone differently. If he had been kinder to sweet Hazel after their child passed away, perhaps she mightāve had willpower enough to carry on. Perhaps more children wouldāve followed, and perhaps Castroās life would have been more fulfilling. Or perhaps if his son had not been afflicted with the withering disease to begin with, things wouldāve been so inconceivably different that his life would be impossible to recognize to the Castro of today.
In a word, Castro lamented lost potential. His ascension was that potential, bundled inside of him as an energy kept dormant for hundreds of years. It embodied the whole age of his existence, both present and future. Focusing on what was lostā¦ too often, it led only to pain. Castro intended to unleash that pain. His A-rank ascension was an idea, a concept, made manifest: [Arete].
Castro walked out of the basement not with a hunched back but a posture proud and rigid. People took shelter here in this city, and he walked toward the closest Shadowlander. His body was filling with every bit of strength that he could possess for the rest of his life. The black humanoid creature seemed totally ignorant of him, the tentacles hanging from its mouth consuming people of the city indiscriminately. Castro held his hand out and prepared a spell. It was an F-rank spell called [Flare] that merely conjured a small spark of flame.
A raging inferno burst out from Castroās handāa spark of compressed fire so intense that, in less than half a second, the Shadowlander was only ash, and all the stone around it had been turned to liquid. Every [Flare] that Castro could ever cast for the rest of his life manifested in that one moment. Thus, Castro lost [Flare]. He could never again use the spell, and a small portion of his [Arete] was consumed to fulfill this mandate. When all of the energy of his [Arete] was expended, his potential would be fulfilled and he would perish.
Castro jumped up into the air, rising dozens of miles above. He could see all of the Shadowlanders, all of the golems, and he knew his duty. [Arete] fueled his righteous purpose. He had intended to use his ability in the crusade against Gerechtigkeitā¦ but this was a far nobler purpose, he felt.
āA B-rank spell should suffice, I thinkā¦ā Castro looked back. āSo long as it doesnāt kill them.ā
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To call Castroās final feat a supernova was no exaggeration. Argrave had seen gods fight, and it seemed like one had descended among them. Raging tornados of fire rose up hundreds of miles into the sky. His lightning disintegrated Shadowlanders seconds after touching them. Even miles away, the winds were strong enough to push Argrave back. The ward that he conjured to block the gusts shattered in a few moments beneath the sheer intensity of this manās [Arete].
The ground beneath them shook and split, Castroās power transforming the land itself. All were relatively well-prepared for this, having been amply warned by Castro himself, but few genuinely expected the mayhem to reach them miles away. The demons had been screaming in joy, yet now there was only a singular droning howl of destruction. The golems, too, despite their immunity to magic, could not fully be spared the tremendous impact of Castroās power.freewe(b)novel
Argrave felt a strange tension in his chest, as though his body was being stretched and pulled. Then, a final, tremendous force slammed down upon not just Sandelabara, but the whole of this pocket realm. Argrave fell to his knees, and barely managed to keep his head up. When he raised his eyesā¦ the entire city was shattered, turned to mountains and valleys. Argrave saw not a soulānot a human, not a Shadowlander, not a golem.
But not Castro, either. Argrave accepted that the tower masterāthat indomitable, assuring presenceāwas gone.
Argrave looked at Sophia briefly as she clung to him, trembling, and didnāt waste time in declaring to everyone else, āWe move!ā