Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage Chapter 2: Mage Tower

CH2 Mage Tower

***

Westward bound, Alex journeyed alongside his knightly escorts.

The trek spanned more than ten days, weaving through dim woodlands and jagged peaks, fording the vast Aegean River that stretched across vast swaths of the land, and skirting the holdings of numerous aristocrats—including those of a mighty Grand Duchy.

In those days, Alex came to understand that Jarred's silence wasn't mere disdain toward him—or at least, not just that. The knight was simply terse by nature, uttering words only when necessity demanded.

Yet, Jarred honored Earl Drake's commands faithfully. From time to time, he shared insights on the Fury lineage or unveiled facets of this unfamiliar realm to Alex.

From these brief teachings, Alex gradually assembled a sharper picture of his inherited bloodline and the society enveloping him.

It emerged that the Fury Family lacked true cohesion. Drake Fury had claimed his Earldom through sheer prowess.

Were the territories under all Fury kin united, their might could challenge a Duchy—possibly even rival a Grand Duchy.

Regrettably, arrogance and rivalry plagued the clan. Its members resisted yielding to one overlord. Autonomy appealed more than unified might.

Beyond Earl Drake, the mightiest, four Counts held sway, alongside more than a dozen Viscounts and Barons bearing the Fury surname.

Like countless feudal realms, this world hinged on estates and honors. Throughout the Arun Continent, lords clashed in perpetual strife to expand fiefdoms and ascend noble hierarchies.

Planar traversal's advent erased resource shortages as barriers to greed. Aristocrats routinely assaulted subordinate realms, looting them to sustain conflicts in their homeland.

Indeed, acquiring coordinates for such inferior planes and harvesting their wealth had evolved into an implicit pillar of noble status.

Lone powerhouses and secretive guilds likewise harnessed planar journeys for resource acquisition. One might declare planar travel the bedrock of Pangea's society.

Indeed, this realm bore the name Pangea.

The moniker struck a chord with Alex. He hadn't overlooked the entity that summoned him: Heart_of_Pangea.

Speculations swirled in his mind regarding that figure's essence, yet presently, it ranked low among his worries.

Jarred revealed that not all inhabitants of this world could pursue cultivation. Solely the innately gifted ascended to become Professionals.

Professionals ascended through tiers: Novice, Beginner, Intermediate, Elite, Veteran, Saint, and Legendary.

Ranks surpassing Legendary existed, though Jarred skipped detailing them.

In his view, Legendary embodied the elite 1% of society. Higher echelons? Alex would discover them upon attaining such heights.

En route, fellow knights disclosed to Alex that Jarred ranked among Earl Drake's premier and loyal warriors—a Dark Knight at mid-Saint level.

The Earl himself was a fresh-ascended Legendary Berserker.

At last, after the grueling voyage, their goal loomed on the horizon.

Alex's mouth gaped in astonishment.

Departing, he'd envisioned banishment to a forsaken, crumbling mage spire. Yet the sight before him shattered such notions.

The Mage Tower—rather, DragonHold Enclave—transcended a simple edifice, forming a colossal sprawl across mountains. Its core spire pierced over half a kilometer skyward, encircled by structures that sprawled over a full chain of peaks and cascaded into adjacent bay inlets.

Far beyond a lone tower, this was the stronghold of a mythic figure: Merlin Pendragon.

To Alex's complete amazement, his assigned mentor wasn't merely a veteran Legendary Mage but a pivotal defender of the Virellian Empire.

Access was swiftly permitted.

Within the Mage Tower, Alex marveled in a grand chamber of surreal architecture. The vast room gleamed with an ethereal luminescence, hewn from one seamless slab of clear blue crystal—even the seat upon which Merlin Pendragon reclined.

The figure appeared unassuming: a mature man with benevolent gaze and a wise demeanor. Attired as a bygone noble rather than a pinnacle mage. Nonetheless, his aura pulsed with eternal insight and erudition.

At his side waited a woman—captivatingly lovely, with curvaceous form, flowing ebony locks, and sharp frost-blue eyes that regarded Alex with tender kindness. Clad in sorcerous garb, she emanated a seasoned charm.

In his former existence, Alex might have ventured a playful advance.

He offered her a courteous nod, then averted his eyes promptly.

Jarred advanced and conveyed Earl Drake's wishes.

"My lord desires you to accept Young Master Alex as your apprentice—for the sake of past bonds."

Alex noted the deferential address Jarred afforded him. He grasped it served the clan's prestige.

Merlin declined with a shake of his head. "If I took on every aristocrat's offspring for 'past bonds,' my spire would overflow with pupils."

"He bears the most unadulterated Furor Bloodline in ages," Jarred countered swiftly. "Warrior talents elude him, yet his mind shines brightly. Magic must be his calling."

Merlin directed his scrutiny toward Alex. The youth sensed the sorcerer delving into his essence.

The Legendary mage's face brightened. The crystalline expanse appeared to pulse in harmony.

"Wisdom far exceeding his age graces him," Merlin mused. "A vital quality for any mage.

"To what extent may I proceed?"

Jarred stood tall. "Whatever measures you judge fit. The sole stipulation: Young Master Alex emerges proficient by Pangea's measure."

Merlin inclined his head deliberately. "I trust Drake grasps I employ only supreme materials. My disciple merits no less. My direct tutelage demands... substantial recompense, even solely in resources."

After a prolonged silence, he appended, "For past bonds... I'll take ten years' yields from one of his key planes."

"Local time?" Jarred inquired.

"Hardly. Pangea time."

Jarred's mouth quirked. Such a toll weighed heavily.

Pangea's tempo lagged behind most subordinate planes. A decade here equated to scores—or centuries—in those realms.

The levy neared half of Drake's forecasted earnings over the coming ten years. It would hamstring his war plans amid the looming turmoil.

Nevertheless, Jarred assented. The pact sealed.

Merlin continued, "I'll aid the lad with his bloodline quandary. I presume that's his dispatch's purpose."

Jarred breathed easier. That met the Earl's baseline demand.

As the knight pivoted to depart, he halted and glanced back at Alex once more. The bargain's expense daunted. He hoped the youth would justify it in time.

He and the Fury guards left at once, heading back to Ashen Castle.

Merlin faced Alex.

"Henceforth, you stand as my apprentice. Follow my directives utterly—sans delay or doubt. Clear?"

"Yes," Alex affirmed resolutely.

From countless cultivation tales in his prior life, he knew an initiate's duties.

"Meet my daughter, Zora. Her commands carry my weight."

Alex dipped his head once more, his visage turning grave. He stifled prior musings on her beneath a veil of concentration.

Zora bestowed a gentle smile. It soothed him beyond anticipation.

"Escort him to the Examination Hall," Merlin directed.

"Yes, Father."

Zora guided him via shimmering gateways, luminous lifts, and twisting corridors until Alex lost all sense of direction.

At length, they reached the Examination Hall—a chamber brimming with potion apparatuses, mystic circles, and enchanted devices whose functions eluded Alex entirely.

Zora transferred him to the overseeing sorcerer and vanished through a gateway, rejoining her sire.

Intrigued, Alex pondered why Merlin hadn't whisked him here instantly.

He was told to shed his attire, swallow a luminous elixir, and recline on an icy steel slab where restraints held him. Subsequently, needles—slender as threads or stout as quills—pricked his skin.

Typically, a basic Grade-0 probe spell sufficed for novice assessments. But for the master's chosen, the sorcerers unleashed every tool.

Merlin and Zora watched via an exclusive scrying incantation—reserved for the tower's apex. Zora serenely brewed tea for her father as findings streamed in.

Alex trembled in agony as his mind wavered between clarity and haze.

"Elevated affinity to elements. No prevailing type—equipoised throughout."

He spasmed as arcane forces coursed within, gauging his mystic endurance.

"Robust resistance to magic across elements noted. Involuntary uptake of expelled mana observed."

Then struck the fiercest trial.

A psychic lance breached his spirit.

"Exceptionally potent mental power... eclipsing prodigy norms."

Subsequent probes targeted his bodily state—and astonishingly, outcomes proved more troubling than his arcane gifts.

By metrics, his traits hinted at formidable build.

Sinew resilience, skeletal density, nerve transmission—all readings impressed. Yet, an inner essence curtailed his holistic vitality.

It resembled a concealed power at his nucleus, throttling his capabilities.

The ordeals stretched hours, yielding a hefty dossier of contradictory figures and baffled notes.

---

Upon Alex's return to awareness, the lead mage declared the conclusion: his aptitudes excelled—barely shy of prodigy caliber.

Beyond his prodigious mental prowess, no glaring irregularities or unique traits warranted mention.

At minimum, they assured, he'd attain Great Mage status—a solid, superior outcome.

Yet Alex scarcely heeded such words. Awakening, he sensed a shift.

The surroundings appeared transformed—livelier, more intense.

Odd, radiant specks now danced in his vision, hovering midair. These motes drifted gently, attracted to the room's casters.

Upon merging with bodies, the specks altered shades, aligning with each mage's core mana tint.

Then it unfolded.

A caster invoked a blaze incantation. Instantly, Alex beheld ambient specks rushing to the staff's end, blazing scarlet, and erupting into fire.

Comprehension dawned.

He'd unlocked a visual gift—enabling sight of mana itself.

***