Magic Overlord: The Last Arcane Sorcerer

Familial Bond

Aethan sheathed his swords smoothly into their scabbards. He wasn't adept enough in Space Magic to be able to summon them from the Space Ring as fast as he could unsheath them, so he kept them there—where they were easily accessible.

He had trained in a variety of weapons, and the weapons he resonated with the most were a pair of short swords.

He had leaned into daggers for a while, but later realised that he wasn't strongly in tune with it. He then chose a regular sword, but found out that he didn't like it as much either.

One problem after another, until he eventually settled with a pair of short swords. He still used daggers from time to time, though, to deal unexpected attacks, but he rarely needed to do so unless he was weaponless—which also, was almost impossible, because his father had ingrained in him a discipline.

Never let go of your weapon no matter what.

Even if your hands were mashed beyond repair, or you were dazed and even knocked out cold… your weapon was your life. Letting go of it was the same as forfeiting your life.

Aethan's understanding of some things were almost flipped over when his father had spoken those words that day.

Wasn't his Aether his power first and foremost. Aether and life worked together in almost every situation, so how was his weapon his life?

He didn't get a reply to that question though, but he wasn't really bothered. He had a feeling that he would get his answers anyway.

“Mother," Merek said suddenly, snapping Aethan out of his thoughts. “I will be back sooner than last time."

"There wouldn't be much of anything for me to do in the bastion, so while I make a round around town, I will stop by.”

Martha nodded and sent Aethan a glance, before flashing before him and pulling him into a deep bear hug.

Aethan's beating heart calmed slightly upon feeling his mother's warm embrace. He didn't even know his heart was almost beating out of his chest, but his mother had sensed his worry and comforted him.

The last few months had prepared him for the worst, and he had learnt the art of masking one's emotions behind an unbothered expression and brave puff of the chest.

He might look like a 19-year-old warrior, but he was still a 15-year-old child who just began learning about the world of Magic not long ago.

No one would believe him if he said this, because of his demeanor and charisma. But that just went to show how much influence the Narok bloodline had on him.

A weak mind and body couldn't cause true Carnage.

Aethan slowly calmed, his eyes flashing with a sharp red light and his white hair fluttering for a second.

Martha and Merek felt the change immediately.

Aethan's mind had progressed, becoming more sharper than before, and his aura rose higher.

“I’ll miss you, mother,” Aethan said, the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes earlier, evaporating with a circulation of his Aether through them.

Martha smiled. “I'll miss you too, my child,” She said, then continued.

“When you eventually venture through the Kingdom, make allies, but guard your heart. Not everyone who smiles at you is a friend. But if you do find true companions, treasure them—they'll be one of your greatest protections.”

She paused again, looking into Aethan's eyes as if searching for something.

“Above all… send me a message when you can. Don't be like those brute brothers of yours who always forget to use the Communication Stone,” She said the last part while staring at Merek, who suddenly felt that looking at the sky was very important.

"Ahh, the day is nice and fit for traveling, isn't it?” Merek said, his gaze to the sky and a wide smile plastered on his handsome face.

Aethan laughed off his brother's actions and gave his mother another hug.

Merek also received a hug from his mother—and a Light Elemental knock to his head too. Martha emphasized on Merek using the Communication Stone, threatening to appear at his bastion and give him an earful if he didn't.

Merek laughed boisterously, finding the idea funny. Though he took her words seriously.

The final good-byes were said, and Aethan sat atop Merek's Totembeast.

The massive wolf snorted in disdain and resisted a bit, but Merek reigned in its temper with a simple command.

The Wolf had black fur. In fact most of its visible features were black, with only its eyes and the fiery, swirling markings over its body being the only other color, red.

Its claws were sharp and dug into the earth easily. Its eyes were a blazing red hue, and its thick mane an abysmal black.

What was special about this wolf was that excluding its four limbs, a pair of humanoid arms grew out of its forelimb's shoulders, making its limbs a total of three pairs.

Not only did it give the Wolf a huge advantage in battle, it also gave most an idea or inkling of the path it took…

The path of the Infernal Lycan!

This breed of Lycanthropes had the potential to become a humanoid beast—a rare species of powerful creatures. This in and of itself showed how much power and value such a beast possessed.

If Merek could evolve his Totembeast in the right path with the right resources, he would have a Rare Grade Totembeast fighting by his side.

It was only an Uncommon Grade beast at the moment, but still had much power in its body. Plus, its Fire Elemental Magic was not to be trifled with.

If it successfully evolved into a Rare Grade Totembeast, it had a chance of getting access to infernal flames—flames said to burn not just the physical body, but also the soul.

In one bound, Merek was sitting on Ignaroth.

“Hold onto me tight," Merek spoke confidently. “Because if you fall off, I'm not so sure you'll be retrieved in one piece.”

Aethan shifted back and sized his brother from behind.

“Why will you even go that fast?” He wanted to say. But the words got stuck in his mouth when his head suddenly jerked back, his neck almost snapping, the blood flow to his brain cutting off for a moment, and his mind almost blacking out as Ignaroth burst forth with speed, literally.

Compressed pockets of fire exploded beneath its feet as it launched itself forward, crossing what must have been ten meters in a single bound.

But, there was no way Aethan would know that. He took his brother's words seriously and held on for his dear life.

It seemed Merek wasn't keen on treating him like a First-Circle Sorcerer. However, Aethan just saw this as another form of training.

He might find himself in a situation in the future where he needed to hold on to something tightly, so why not start preparing himself.

And with that, his Core rotated, Aether pouring into his limbs and latching him onto Merek.