Mark of the Fool
Chapter 698: The Ultimate Technique of Mana Regeneration

Thunder echoed through the room.

Power flowed across the planes and Alex touched it with Hannah’s energy. He felt for the mana as it reached out to a distant plane; a plane emitting the scent of fresh blood, a pulsing heat of flame, and the sound of metal striking metal.

The spell’s mana called, and something answered.

Alex felt the war-spirit touch the flow of energy, riding it across the gulf between planes.

A form rose within the summoning circle, at first it appeared that the floor tiles were swelling and shifting, like something was pushing them toward the ceiling. Alex remembered the first time he’d seen the war-spirit manifest in this very room. He recalled how it had taken on the appearance of stone.

It was stretching now, growing until its height was greater than either Thundar’s or Baelin’s. Stone warped, taking on definition; gleaming like metal.

From a place unknown and distant, Alex could hear the sound of iron pounding iron. Heat rose, as if from a forge.

The war-spirit took form.

Humanoid arms appeared.

Two bladedlegs extended from its lower body.

A pair of outgrowths projected from a lean back—filling the space within the circle—becoming feathered wings glistening like polished steel. As its features unfolded—metallic musculature, flesh, and hair—a ring of metal shimmered into being, encircling its human-like head in a halo.

Spikes, like the thorns of a rosebush, extended from the steel surface.

A gleaming, humanoid stretched its wings, looking around with an unreadable air, finally fixing its gaze on Professor Mangal.

With every sound escaping the creature, an echo of metal striking metal and voices screaming in terror, reached Alex’s ears. The scent of fresh blood filled his nostrils and the spirit’s every movement seemed to threaten violence.

Despite the menace it was exuding, its face appeared calm and relaxed.

The first time Mangal had summoned this war-spirit for his class, its appearance had sent shock and fear through the beginner summoners and beyond merely creating a feeling of fear, something else about it had felt deeply wrong to him.

At the time, he could acknowledge its unique physical presence, yet there was an aspect of its being that he couldn’t quite make sense of in his mind. It was as if one was looking around a familiar space, realising that something was out of place, but having no idea what it was.

But now, Alex understood exactly what it was he’d found so unnerving back then; the war-spirit was an unapologetic confirmation of violence. If Tiashivas were empowered by violence, then war-spirits were born of it.

They were violence in a very real sense, and their existence was like an assault on the material world. To look on one was to face the manifestation of pain and death…capturing the innermost fears of most mortals.

Most.

But, Alexander Roth had changed, no longer fearful of what frightened most mortals.

‘I’ve killed greater demons and I’ve seen a dead god,’ he thought, meeting the war-spirit’s gaze as the entity looked down at him. ‘It takes a lot more than you to scare me.’

“Then-Arus,” Professor Mangal said, in words sounding like twisting metal and rushing liquid. “You are not required to fight today, but for answering my call, I will lead you to a battle worthy of your existence.”

Then-Arus did not answer, merely looking at Professor Mangal calmly.

His face wore a mask of tranquility, yet Alex could feel the ruthless satisfaction emanating from him.

“Are you quite satisfied, Alex?” Professor Mangal asked. “Was seeing me cast the spell helpful to you?”

“Absolutely, Professor,” he said. “I felt the flow of power…and it helped me get a better understanding of how the spell works. I can’t wait to get started, but-” He paused, looking at Then-Arus closely, examining the spirit’s powerful form.

Alex imagined his enemies facing this personification of violence.

He could see them running and breaking, too ruined to ever trouble him or those he cared about again.

He began to smile.

Until the First Apostle—the ancient Chosen of Uldar—and the man’s speed crept into his mind. He remembered the power of his magic, the might of his divinity, the hard body forged through life enforcement, and the skills and strength he’d used to overpower three Heroes of Uldar in one battle.

His smile faded.

‘I need something better. Bigger. Deadlier,’ he thought, looking at Professor Mangal.

“Can I ask Then-Arus a question, professor?” he said.

She nodded. “Of course.”

He bowed his head to the war-spirit. “Mighty Then-Arus, butcher of a thousand battlefields and terror of a hundred planes—”

The professor raised an eyebrow.

The war-spirit eyed him closely.

Alex had used ancient titles for Then-Arus’ kind. Titles that were rarely known by mortals anymore.

He’d done his research.

“—I seek to ask a question of you, with the greatest respect,” he said. “You are bound to Professor Mangal by magic and fellowship, and that is a great union of magic, blood and death. I seek to forge a relationship with one of your kind. I myself have dealt terrible violence. I am the wizard who slayed Yantrahpretaye in Cretalikon. I was the general on the battlefield when my golem, Claygon, and the warrior Kyembe the Spirit Killer slayed the great Kaz-Mowang. My golem and my strategies destroyed the greater demon Zonon-In. I have many deeds of blood and violence to my credit, and I seek one who would join me in these endeavours. Would this please your kin?”

Silence hung between them, until Then-Arus spoke in Alex’s mind, his voice like a thousand blades slicing through multitudes. “We are violence. We would gladly join with one who draws blood and death as you have done. We know violence. We know your deeds. What is your question?”

“Who among your kind would you fear to fight most?” Alex asked.

Silence followed.

Mangal gasped.

Then-Arus’ metal body began pulsing waves of heat. “I am a war-spirit of steel. I do not fear.”

“You speak true,” Alex said. “What you would call strategy, I—a mere mortal—would call fear. A fear not of violence and death, but of the end of it. You are violence, Then-Arus. You seek it endlessly, for that is what you are. But if you met an opponent, one so violent…and so powerful that it would stop your endless quest for blood, then you would choose your battle against them with care, would you not? Forgive me if I am wrong, for I am a mere mortal.”

Silence.

“You are correct.” Metal grated in Alex’s mind.

“Thank you Then-Arus. Then who among your kind would be most formidable to face? Who among your kind has accomplished the most glorious deeds of violence? Who among your kind would drive the rest of you to band together to face them on the battlefield? Who among your kind would make greater demons recoil in terror?” Alex asked.

More silence.

Mangal looked at Alex, concern lining her face.

“You ask who is the greatest among us, or who would be one most feared across the planes,”Then-Arus said. “Do not seek to conjure such a being, mortal. It will be too much for you.”

“It will be too much for my enemies,” Alex countered. “And I seek such an entity of my own free will. I am no mindless apprentice, out of their depth. You know my deeds and I wield great power. Grant me this information, please. I could search tomes for the name of such a being, but books created by mortals would not come close to your knowledge of death and battle, Then-Arus.”

The war-spirit studied the young wizard carefully. “I sense some duality about you, mortal. You are a puzzle. A contradiction. You say that you deal death, and this much I know to be true. I can taste it—” A spiked, metallic tongue emerged from the war-spirit’s face, tasting the air. “—but something about you is antithetical to the very nature of violence. That trait disgusts me. I tolerate it; I have a partiality for mortals. But the one you conjure will see such a weakness as an affront. They will strike you down before you can speak.”

Alex cursed Uldar.

“You let me worry about that, Then-Arus. I beseech you. Grant me a name. Grant me a name that I can call upon. A name that will terrify my enemies from its first syllable,” the young wizard said.

“Then there is but one,” the war-spirit’s metal shuddered. “That name…is Asmaldestre, who my kin call The Unmaker.”

Mangal drew in a sharp breath.

“Asmaldestre the Unmaker,” Alex repeated the words. “I will commit that name to memory.”

“That is unwise. The Unmaker is unruly beyond all mortal measure. She is destruction, metal and flesh. She is blood and iron and flame.”

Alex smiled with menace, imagining the First Apostle’s face twisted in horror. “She sounds perfect.”

“Ah,” Professor Mangal warned. “Such a war-spirit will wield immense power. I doubt that Conjure Planar Ally would suffice to summon her.”

Alex looked at Mangal. “Which tier?”

“Pardon?”

“Which spell-tier would suffice?”

The professor shook her head. “It would be beyond even my power.”

“What tier?” Alex pressed.

“Ninth,” she said grimly. “Without a doubt. The spells would likely be Conjure Ultimate Ally or Conjure Grand Gate, both at ninth-tier. The former would ally you to conjure the most powerful of planar entities, while the latter creates a full portal between planes. But…very few summoners can cast those spells, Alex.”

“Goals, then,” Alex said. “Professor, I know what I want to do. I’m going to master Conjure Planar Ally. That’s going to be my next challenge…but I bet you I’ll be able to break through to ninth-tier summoning spells sooner rather than later.”

“You could hardly break through to sixth-tier, Alex,” she pointed out.

“Let’s just say I know my limits,” he said evasively.

‘At least, what they would be without the Mark’s interference,’ he thought. ‘I broke through to fifth, then sixth-tier, one after the other, even with the Mark trying its damnedest to stop me. If it wasn’t there…if there was no resistance in my way, then combined with Hannah’s power, and my own learning. I might get to ninth-tier summoning spells pretty damn quick. Damn quick.”

Professor Mangal shook her head again. “Alex, even if you could develop the skill to cast a ninth-tier spell, you would need the mana reserves for it. Your mana pool…I doubt could manage it.”

“I have a lot of mana,” Alex said.

“You would need a lot more,” she warned.

Alex frowned. “Then that’s going to be my next step.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“After we finish working on Conjure Planar Ally, I’ll go see Professor Val’Rok,” he said. “I’ll make sure I have plenty of mana for upper tier spells.”

Within his chest, a determination like never before, burned.

He was closer to shattering the limits Uldar had put on him, but to take full advantage of that freedom, he would need to be ready.

‘It’ll make no difference if I revert the Mark but don’t have enough mana to power the kind of spells I’ll be capable of learning,’ he thought. ‘It’s time to ask Professor Val’Rok a question.’

###

“Professor, what’s the most powerful mana regeneration technique you know of?” Alex asked.

Professor Val’Rok paused outside his office door, midway through unlocking it. In his mouth, a beetle struggled valiantly to escape. “Well, good morning to you too, Alex. You look terrible.”

“Sorry, I’ve been uh, throwing myself against a wall, so to speak,” Alex said, leaning against a wall for support.

He had thrown himself against Conjure Planar Ally for hours with Professor Mangal, trying repeatedly to master the spell.

The Traveller’s power had guided him.

His experience had directed him.

Reversing the mistakes the Mark had weaponised had inspired him.

But, the Mark of the Fool’s interference had proved to be a very determined foe. Half a night’s effort had driven him to the brink; at times it felt like Uldar’s blessing—or curse—was trying to destroy his mind.

For all the work he’d done, he’d only progressed a measly two percent through the spell’s complex array.

‘I’m not going to be able to cast the spell until I can change the Mark,’ Alex thought. ‘But it’s worth working at it.’

“It almost looks like you’ve been throwing yourself at a wall quite literally. You’ll have to tell me about it, I have some time before morning classes begin; you say you want the most powerful technique that I know?” Professor Val’Rok asked.

“Yes. And don’t try to convince me otherwise—” Alex started.

But the lizardfolk wizard merely grinned, crunching the beetle between his teeth. “Oh no, absolutely not. I’ve heard of your alchemical exploits, and I’ve heard what this…Mark of the Fool I believe it’s called? I’ve heard what it does…I take it that it helps you with mana manipulation?”

“Yes,” Alex said, looking uncomfortable. “I hope you don’t look at using it as cheating.”

“Absolutely not,” Val’Rok said. “If anything, the fact that it augments you will put you in the right mindset; you’ll be far more prepared for the ultimate technique than most.”

“How so?” Alex asked, burning with curiosity.

“Because at the highest levels, Mana Regeneration is no longer about training your pool. Not anymore.” The professor swallowed the beetle.

“It’s about modifying your pool. You’re about to reach the limits of what your body has granted you.” He chuckled darkly. “But we can do better. Come inside, I’ll teach you something that most would call…unnatural.”