Chapter 41: A Druid

~Bleeeuurrgghh~

~Bleeeughhh... bleeeurrgh~

He looked like a nuisance to me as he continuously forced himself to puke just from flying a small distance. 'Will he be able to travel in an aeroplane?' I wondered.

"What the hell? I didn't know you were an archmage? What is an archmage doing in a slum-like Trehan town!!" He shouted upon gaining himself.

"I am not an archmage, neither am I a prima..." 'Did he misunderstand because I used flight magic?'

"Of course, that magic you used is like seven-star magic, and to be able to use that long requires you to have mastered it to the brim. I said nothing because even the formula composition of the magic is very different from that of this world, I hope I don't regret releasing omni Ingenio" Anastasia responded, her response sounded like praise, yet a warning.

"You expect me to believe that? Well, it's expected that you would want to hide your identity." He said, concluding on his own.

I took my attention away from him and looked at the forest.

The forest was tremendous, dark, and primal. Its canopy was contested by cypress, hickory, and rowan, and cascading lights bouncing between the leaves allowed for a mishmash of saplings to spread in the fertile soils below.

Thin creepers drooped from many a tree, and a variety of flowers, which desperately tried to avoid the shadows, clashed with the otherwise black and purple scenery.

A clamour of sounds, predominantly sounding like insects and critters associated with intermittent soft growls, resonated through the air, and almost completely muffled the croaks in the nearby ponds. The black fog ahead made it extremely hard to see the way forward. I could see the reason why he said I needed his help getting there.

"How do you intend to pass this fog, even if you have been there before and you know the way, the fog will blind your sight." Although not mine since I have basic night magic, and dark vision.

He smiled, "You called me a druid but don't know the might of one." He said and rolled his sleeves. I had reproved the chains restraining his legs the moment we landed so he found it easier to move his legs.

"Ey böyük söz mühafizəçiləri, tarixin carçıları, bu günün yazanları və gələcəyin qoruyucuları, mən sənin gəmin sənin qüdrətini axtarmağa gəlmişəm, yalvarışıma qulaq as və mənə runik sözlərin qüdrətini ver."

Immediately he stopped a pink-like energy burst forth from him. His sclera turned black and black marks stretched from his eyes to his cheek. On the hand of the sleeve, he had rolled was written inscriptions which I couldn't identify, just like how I couldn't understand what he was saying.

"To think, a high-level druid was in our gasp..." Anastasia said, looking at him with a grin. "Etch the image into your head, this is the true form of druids. You might be able to win against this guy but do you think it will be easy?" She said to me.

I thought of her words as I watched him, she was right, the energy he discharged upon saying those things he said, it was like he was a totally different person. It made me realise that just like how I was strong, there could also be severally equal people. If I was to take away Ardor and ars praesidium, I couldn't guarantee my victory if he was to be my opponent, even with all I knew. I could tell that much from the fiery arcana energy he emitted.

"You are this strong... yet you cowered in front of my energy, were you playing with me?" I said to him, the distorted voice made it sound more mature and interesting.

"No, no, don't think that, I was truly burdened by your tremendous energy. But right now, I am wielding twelve different runic words, it's the highest my body and arcana can condone right now. And I need this much to intimidate the fog."

"Intimidate the fog?" I repeated after him, as it didn't make complete sense to me.

"The fog of the forest is made stronger by the malice of lost souls. Once we venture into them the lost souls begin to misguide you so you also can lost, after eventually dying while lost in the fog. Your soul becomes a lost soul too. However, they fear power."

'Tch, would you look at this bastard, he could have just said, I'm sure my ether would have been enough.'

"Lost souls have a strong resistance to ether and because of the malice their void is filled by dark mana, which is why arcana energy and Runes are the only things that can deal with them..." He smiled, as though he read my mind, "...there's a reason why druids are special, there are several other phenomena like this around the world that only we druids can take care of." He concluded and stepped forward, going into the fog.

He stretched forth his hand, "Rune of Command..."

A particular part of the strange writing on his hand glowed pink and the writing itself stretched around his hand. "...dağıtmaq!"

He clenched his fist onto the fog and they immediately scattered abroad revealing the path of the forest that led deeper into it.

~Tsssshhhh~

The pressure of his energy began to reduce, he bent down, resting on his knee and panted for a few seconds. Then rolled down his sleeves as he stood up.

"Don't mind me, because I wielded the twelve at once, it was kind of too much on me..." He said, smiling at me. I didn't want his smile, he looked fuxking amazing when he did that so I didn't need that smile, what was he even feeling like.

"Shall we then?" He said, spreading his right hand forward. I followed without much talk, thanks to my armour he can't even tell how I was feeling at the moment.

***

"By the way..." After walking a few meters in silence, he broke the silence.

"...I even showed you my strength as a druid to gain your trust, isn't it courtesy that you should at the very least show me your face? Don't worry, I might not even recognise your face since I have only met one archmage."

"You acted of your own accord, the only thing I demanded from you was the location. I see no reason as to why I am supposed to follow your so-called courtesy." My response felt so cool even to me too, this is the advantage of reading novels and entering a fantasy world. Some replies and ideas begin to formulate inside one's head. '...Or it is the effect of omni Ingenio...'

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