Filled with the weight of the earth, the same voice echoed inside Aurel's head; however, it was as though the earth had grown in age, matured in someway compared to before. Aurel didn't know if it was the voice's tone or its weight, but he felt that he knew that the Will of the World had grown.
Aurel, the Will said. I have awoken.
You can speak clearer now, Aurel thought in response. Have you gotten—older?
Not older. But I will explain. You will better understand. The Will voice paused for a few moments, and Aurel let his head gently rest on the Maiden Tree's bark.
I am the Will of the World. An incarnation of the world. Your timeline.
A God? Aurel questioned.
Not God. An incarnation. I am the World. The world is I. But—this world is different. It is the Overlord Timeline. There exists exists the natural laws. They shape the universe and all timelines. The Overlord Timeline is special. A prison for those who break their timelines. Anomalies from their worlds. The natural laws throw these anomalies into this world. The prison of the universe.
"The Otherworlders…" Aurel exhaled a deep breath. The snow returned, snowflakes slipping past the Maiden Tree's branches to drift and melt onto his arms. So they are from other timelines, he thought. These Otherworlders—are anomalies?
Yes. The natural laws put them here. To repair all the others. They ruin this world. And these anomalies. They are chains. They distort this world and timeline. They take away my control. They disrupt. And that is—dangerous. If too many anomalies. Too many on my consciousness. The timeline breaks, the world disappears. Everything. Gone.
How do you know that, Will?
Past memories. Don't understand, but—we are fifth Overlord Timeline. All other before us broke.
So that is where I come in, Will of the World? Aurel asked. You have chosen me.
Indeed.
But why Aurel of Whiteriver? Aurel opened his eyes and sat up. He leaned against the Maiden tree, looking above his shoulder to the red-stained spear. He clenched his fist, feeling the energy within him.
I have chosen you. You have the heart of freedom. The will to kill. Otherworlders need death. You have most potential. Most chance. Remember, Otherworlders have brought their disgusting power. From the other timelines. Powerful. So you must be powerful.
So these Otherworlders must be killed.
Yes. More death, less chains upon me. Than more power to you. Then more killing. Until free. Both free.
Aurel gazed at sun, now climbing high into the sky like a great flaming chariot. The snow glistened, like diamonds on the snowfields and treetops in front of him. Everything seemed still.
"To be free…" he whispered into the empty space, for himself more than anyone else.
Alight. Aurel stood from the tree. Then I will gladly be your pawn. For you and myself. And the people of this world.
You understand? More dangerous, deathly. You will die. Most likely.
"Hah…" Will of the World, you must understand. This is worse than death, this torture, this imprisonment. Aurel motioned toward the snowy field and then the town behind him. He then grabbed the spear and set it against the ground, leaning on it to stare into the sun. Surely there will be stipulations. More danger that you aren't telling me. But so what? I'd rather that than stay. More than anything.
… I understand.
That's good then. Aurel motioned to himself. So. How exactly am I supposed to get powerful? Was that strength you gave me before enough to defeat the Otherworlders? Is it every Otherworlder I kill that you give me strength?
First—strength. I give the power of World inside. Strengthening body and soul and mind. First time only. Next time, more killing. More powerful anomaly. Defeat them to gain. For power… see. As anomalies have abilities, you too will gain. Here. Power of ነፕዐዪጮ. Natural Law. Power of … Storms.
How do I use this, power of storms?
Close eyes. Feel. I will help.
Aurel closed his eyes, attempting to search within his body the feeling that the Will of the World has described. He felt the strength within his body, the Power of the World that nourished him. But soon, at the edges of his consciousness, he felt something hot, like sparks. Starting from his heart, like a wave of rolling fire around his body, sparks spiraled around him. Aurel wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he heard the Will of the World speak.
Condense. Power of Storms. Condense.
Aurel concentrated on the feeling of sparks that inhabited his body, straining to push them out. They gravitated to the spear out in his hand, pulsing within his body like a wave attempting to push out of his arm. And soon, the feeling that had filled his body concentrated within his hand.
Now out. Explode. Storms. Rage.
Though Aurel could not see, the outside of his body sparkled with rings of red fire—lightning colored in the shade of blood. Like trails of water across his skin, they jumped around his arm. But Aurel, focused within his own mind, did not open his eyes. He swung the spear within his hand into the air.
It was thunder. The sound of red thunder exploded past the white snow and into the air. Expelled from his spear, a lightning bolt sang into the sky, bursting past the Maiden tree. Small branches fell to the ground, as the snow around Aurel exploded in a pile of white powder. The red bolt sailed away into the sky, a glistening red.
Aurel opened his eyes and looked at the spear in his hand. He then looked to the sky at the crackling red lightning in the distance.
Was that—magic? Qi? What was that, Will of the World?
Exactly as said. Power of Storms. Natural Law, my Power. Granted to you Aurel. To defeat anomalies. Whom you call Otherworlders.
That is—magnificent. Aurel attempted to feel the energy again and it condensed within his left hand. Red sparks left from his fingers, trailing onto his skin in rapid, jumping arcs. But soon they fizzled away.
You must master power, the Will said. Condense. Make power yours.
I understand Will. Perhaps—
Aurel felt sensed that someone was near, behind him, near the Maiden tree. Aurel took a deep breath, tightening the spear within his hand. Someone had snuck up on him, which meant that they were not normal. An anomaly.
He swung, fast, hard, blistering behind him with his spear as it spun in his hand. The power of storms, the lightning that he could control, poured into the spear as it crackled to life with red arcs. The snow pulsed again, as did the air, flung aside by the force of his swing. But his spear stopped, stuck, as though caught.
The air thrummed to life. Before Aurel's eyes, he saw a blue, shoulder-length cape that had caught his spear. As though it had a life of its own, the cape had caught the spear with its fabric. But Aurel was soon drawn to the cape's wearer.
It was a woman with long black hair that whipped in the wind. Aurel couldn't see her face as she had turned away toward the burning manor and Whiteriver town. She held a small staff within her hand, with a silver crescent mounted on its top. The rest of her body was covered in sky blue dress.
"Who are you?" she said. Her voice was prickly yet soft, like a rose.
Aurel did not answer.
She turned toward him. She's young for a mage, was his first thought. But Aurel's eyes slipped past her fair skin, gentle eyes, to the moon-like tattoo outlining her face.
Her cape, as though having a life of its own, smacked Aurel's spear away and rested against her body—it was haughty almost, just the woman before him. But Aurel both felt and knew that he could not wait. She was a mage, an incredibly powerful one at that, judging from the massive amount of magical energy he could feel condensing around her.
"Who are you?" Aurel said.
For a moment, the woman's eyes flicked away from the town to Aurel. As though surprised someone had not answered her question, she spoke, her tone slightly raised.
"I asked first, did I not?"
Aurel locked eyes with the woman, but could not feel any sense of killing intent. And he knew his limits. Fighting would only end badly for him, not the mage before him.
"I am Aurel of Whiteriver."
"Well, Aurel of Whiteriver," the woman said. "Are you related to Lin Xua."
Aurel shook his head, his attention caught at her tone. She spoke his name without even the slightest of restraint.
"Is there anything else?" she said. "Did you see anything out of place?"
Aurel once more shook his head. The woman studied him, and her gaze shifted to the spear in his hand. Before he could even move, her hand twirled, and a force from beyond pulled the iron out of his hand. He resisted, but it was no use under the pull of her force.
Magic. Aurel studied the woman before him again. And yet he couldn't tell why she was here. Surely she was not related to Lin Xua, a cultivator. And yet she stood here, at a remote Whiteriver town, distances away from any major city. She studied the spear and looked into the distance, even though Aurel's lightning had long gone.
"I'm Relia Evenhall of House Lyle." And then without a word, she returned to the spear, tossing it away. She stepped forward, and Aurel noticed her footsteps created no prints within the snowbanks, painting the snowy hill.
"Whatever you are, whatever power or force you have signed your soul with—it's not worth it. Remember that." She glanced toward Whiteriver town in the distance.
And with those words, Relia spun in snow, like a painted angel. Aurel could feel the magic, feel the unfeelable that began to twirl around her. Without a blinding, blue storm, space seemed to tear itself apart beneath her. As a snowflake twirled downward to the ground, melding to the snow, she was gone.
Aurel had stood before the Maiden Tree, unyielding, but as her form disappeared, he stumbled, putting a hand to the wood to stabilize himself. He stared at the white space where the woman, Relia, had disappeared.
"She was strong," Aurel said to himself, but more to the Will in confirmation. "So much stronger than Lin Xua."
Yes. A Seventh-circle mage most likely. Don't know why here. But she is an Otherworlder. Must kill. Later.
A seventh-circle… I've only heard of second-circle.
Aurel gazed at the everlasting snow around him, raining down in small bursts. But as he gazed down at the town, the two graves, the Maiden tree, and he felt the power within his body, his will did not give. Instead, he pictured the feel of magical strength, the power held within this invisible force, and imagined it his own.
I'll kill all of these Otherworlders.
Yes, the Will replied.
Aurel turned away to the distance, toward the eastern forest that stretched far into the distance. Yet he knew, somewhere an enormous distance away, stood the Great Cities, where the Otherworlders gathered. It was there he would see them. And it was there he would kill.