"How does it feel?" Moulin asked while he focused on his mana siphoning into Hadrian's core. The arcan relic thrumd, trapped between his palm and Hadrian's wrist.
They are currently holding the session within the library. Nowadays, Lord Hercullio's presence within the realm was no longer unusual. However, Lady Calanthe and Lord Na'El always appear a bit uneasy whenever they cross paths with the High Lord and most especially confused when they witness the Lord dress so casually as though he were living in his abode.
"So even the Golden Lord himself can be as ordinary as any man."
Moulin heard Lady Calanthe speak while they were both drawing the runic border spells on the Arcan chamber walls. There was even a bit of laughter in her voice like a proud grandmother seeing their grandchild act out their age. The Sorceress glanced at the silver-eyed man who stole the Golden Lord's heart. Lord Hercullio had always appeared so aloof and untouchable before the eyes of the world, but if he was with Moulin, he was a man who could sulk, smile, and voice his complaint freely.
What could bring out such strangeness and peculiarity other than love?
"The usual…" The golden-eyed man spoke. As soon as his words ended, the Arcan relic shattered within Moulin's hand.
Instinctively, Moulin withdrew his hand and threw the remains into a small chest. A despondent sigh escaped his rosy lips as he turned to write down the report. "As usual…"
Amusent filled the man's golden pupils, "How can one taste success without a string of failures…"
"Don't start," Moulin snorted, fishing out another relic from the pile in his relic box. "Now then, one more ti. Sit still, My Lord."
While the two began another test, a certain bored furball unhurriedly jumped on the couch and nestled himself on Hadrian's sturdy lap. Spotting the shiny golden waist chain hanging on the Lord's belt, Snow began gnawing on it. The two owners only let him satisfy his boredom.
Two hours later, Moulin closed the relic chest while silently calming himself. The arcan relics refused to work. Shattering into shards. Don't ask him why he was pushing the bla on an object. The amount of ti and effort he spent, modifying and altering the relic were all wasted. The youth massaged the skin between his brows, helplessly accepting the results. However, he did find a cause of the failures.
Silver eyes narrowed on the ssy work of dark wood shavings and stone shards on the desk at the corner of the library. The reservoir materials were all too weak to hold the formation. Moulin thought he could adjust the strength of the mana and its formation. But after all those tests, they were useless…
"It seems I can only wait for the Chrysolite…" Moulin mumbled while his hand caressed the carved lid of the relic chest. He was certain the relic could function smoothly with it.
"While we wait, it would be better to shift your attention to completing the Arcan chamber." Hadrian held the whining Snow by the scruff and removed the beast from his lap gently. The High Lord of Helios approached the youth, placed his hand over Moulin's, and gently lifted the lid of the relic chest. Golden eyes deepened on the number of arcan relics piled within.
"Once the court discovers these relics, it would either be a phenonal feat or a traitorous deed."
Moulin grimaced, "I'm sure they will find fault with everything I do. But they won't have a choice… They will learn to need these…"
Hadrian cupped his cheek, watching intently as the young man slightly closed his eyes. "Once your elder brother returns, your deeds will spread. Fridal has already kindled the flas."
Moulin inwardly laughed. Scheming for his cause was a poorly common trick. He wondered if the people's beliefs were true or if they were the result of being fooled. He sighed despondently.
On the wooden floor, their shadows mingled passionately.
…..
Dust and paint stained the youth's fair cheek as he rubbed his thumb across the chiseled runes on the pedestal core of the Arcan Chamber.
They were almost halfway finished. The small canal lining where the bottom of the wall and the floor t were filled with glistening pured blessed water. Complex runes embellished the walls painted with crushed crystals, gold, and ancient herbs and oils, vital to the construction of the most challenging barrier from the book of Orchaedia.
The most prominent parts of the chamber apart from the pedestal at the center would be the five columns, crudely yet carefully carved with protective sorcerous markings. They were towering as the gigantic trees of Thundralln. In all honesty, Moulin thought the chamber looked like most Dilean temples in Corhan. Although he had only seen them in books and maps…
Maps…
How was the expedition faring?
As the days passed, Moulin grew anxious. He couldn't help but wonder if the relics with the expedition team worked or if they even reached halfway through the journey.
Anxiety filled his silver pupils as thought after thought rolled into his mind. He didn't try to suppress his emotions, often allowing them to alter his expression. Quite different when using the mind forge and training his ntality. However, he wasn't so cruel as to restrict his emotional self even if his emotions did change the temperature and send snowflakes fluttering in the air.
"Have you completed the test?"
Out of the blue, Lady Calanthe spoke. She stood behind him while her eyes surveyed the entire chamber.
Moulin faltered, recalling his test with Hadrian during the morning. Even after several attempts, it was hopeless. Hadrian left to deal with so council issues, but not before giving him so comforting words. With sagging shoulders, Moulin's voice fell, as did his expression. "Fruitless…"
This man… The corner of Lady Calanthe's lips turned up. "I ant the arcan relic's infusion with one's magic."
The youth paused. His silver eyes glead inquisitively as he turned to face the elder woman. "Ah…"
Truthfully, he only tried it once but even he found it difficult to discern his magic from the arcan relic's magic. When he tried to infuse the relic's magic with his own, it only amplified its purifying ability. Moulin was certain it would be extrely effective using the thod against the malibreeds and the Kron's demons. But uncertainty continued to plague him… Will it be as effective when other maeruthans and magic wielders used the relic?
He needed soone to test it with…
"Well?…" Lady Calanthe pressed, perceiving the resoluteness in those charming silver pupils.
Moulin abruptly stood up, "I will test it now…"
With those words, Moulin said a quick farewell and left the arcan chamber. The old sorcerous shook her head with a faint smile. Although Na'El's training seed to smoothen the control of the youth's emotions, it appears Moulin still caters to his will and ntal self generously.
…..
The dim garden, illuminated only by the glowing centers of rare blooms and shrubs, looked as though from a painting. The night brought a beautiful lancholic atmosphere, releasing one's stress and soothing their nerves. At the center, a lone figure stood.
The man's ruby-hued eyes glistened like captivating gemstones. Defined by a soldier's rigor and the noble upbringing filled with strict discipline, Ordan had always carried a refined aura. Yet now, his head was hung low as he dazedly gazed at the palm of his hand. mories resurfaced, and unwanted feelings lingered at the depths of his heart, clinging to that bitter cold feeling.
But how satisfying it was… to touch…
Flas instantly burst from the palm of his hand, engulfing his fingers as if to burn away his thoughts and emotions.
The flas burned brighter, almost illuminating the entire garden. It was laughable how such little thought affected him so deeply, stirring his emotions anew. Ordan clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tight.
"Are you trying to burn down the garden?"
The breeze carried a soft, familiar voice into his ears. Ordan flinched and extinguished the flas before turning to face the owner of the voice. The youth walked towards him, dressed comfortably and tossing an object up and down from his hand.
Ordan's heart jumped when he t those curious silver eyes. "I wasn't…"
Moulin raised a brow, feeling the last whisp of heat in the air. "Then are you, perhaps, currently occupied with sothing?"
"I am not…" The man replied.
Moulin smiled and stepped closer to him. His hand held up a familiar crystal object frad with wooden vines. "Then, if the lord does not mind, will you help test this relic I have been working on?"
Ordan expressionlessly nodded, allowing Moulin to introduce him to the arcan relic and convey so simple instructions. After a few minutes, the guard rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen his limbs. He paused, glancing at Moulin, who remained standing near him.
Moulin squinted his eyes. "I'm here to observe, of course…"
"You are too close…" Ordan spoke worriedly. He was sincerely afraid his flas could hurt the young master.
Moulin rolled his eyes and only took a step backward. His movents didn't change the situation at all but only showed his defiance. Ordan could only turn away and continue.
The relic was nestled deep within his grasp while his other hand was raised in the air. Expressionlessly, Ordan's eyes glowed a fierce red. His mana erupted, circulating throughout his body, buzzing with might. The nightly air grew warr. Ordan proceeded to activate the mana.
The mont the artifact's formation was triggered, a rush of potent energy surged into Ordan's body, rushing like a powerful tidal wave, instantly flooding inside him. His eyes grew wide as he almost could not withstand the rich mana.
The air seed to thrum with energy. Dust floated from the floor cracks.
"Unleash an offensive attack!" Moulin yelled. "You must let it vent; otherwise, it will rupture your spiritual veins!"
The mont his words ended, Ordan clenched his jaw and unleashed a terrible flaming ball of fire. The unforgiving flas licked the air, bursting with violence! It possessed whisps of whitish flas streaking in a whorl. The energy flew and landed with an explosion at the far end of the garden.
Boom!
No one could doubt the presence of pure divine essence infused with the attack. It was searing and unquestionably too potent. Ordan heaved, unable to process what had just happened.
Moulin was quick to alleviate the danger of the garden's affected area. His mana cool mana surrounded the air, bringing along a chill. While he moved, a smile was plastered on his face.
"Well done…" Moulin's eyes curved as he patted the man's shoulder.
Ordan could still feel the divine essence lingering in his veins. His gaze fell upon the arcan relic in his palm while the exciting feeling remained inside him.
Moulin took the arcan relic, and as he expected, there were cracks all over the crystal. He felt a bit disappointed but was comforted by the successful attempt. At least, it worked…
Ordan silently observed the joy within those ethereal silver pupils. Oblivious to his gaze, Moulin continued to assess the relic with a smile. The garden seed to restore its brilliance in less than a second.
"Interesting…"
A certain elven oracle gazed at the scene below from behind the window pane. Na'El folded his arms while his attentive eyes were filled with intrigue. He glanced towards the man standing predominantly beside him. "The young master achieved yet another maddening accomplishnt."
Golden eyes narrowed dangerously. Although he was casually garbed, an oppressive aura surrounded him as though he was a nacing conqueror ready to cleave the lands. His gaze never left the scene beneath.
Indeed, it was maddening…
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