Path to Power: Rise of Leo Vance

Chapter 8

"Ah, you have a good eye, boy," the man lied smoothly, trying to sound important. "This is the 'Blade of Shadows.' It is a genuine 15th-century dark magic artifact, found in a tomb in Europe. The runes on the blade will allow you to cut through solid steel. Because I like your face, I will give you a special discount. One hundred thousand dollars. Cash only."

Leo stared at the dagger, and then he looked at the shopkeeper. 

Slowly, Leo let out a short, cold laugh. 

"One hundred thousand?" Leo scoffed. His voice was filled with deep insult. "You are not just a thief; you are a terrible liar."

The shopkeeper’s greedy smile vanished. His face turned red with anger. "Listen here, you little punk—"

"The blade is not obsidian," Leo interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "It is cheap painted glass. And the 'ancient' runes on the side? They are drawn completely wrong. The third symbol is supposed to mean 'Strength,' but whoever painted it missed a line. As it is drawn right now, it translates to 'Heavy Potato.' If you tried to channel magic into this dagger, it would just explode in your hand and blow off your fingers."

The shopkeeper’s mouth fell open. He looked down at the dagger in his hand, suddenly terrified that it might actually explode. The kid was right. He had bought it off a drunk street artist for twenty bucks yesterday. 

"Who... who are you?" the shopkeeper stammered, putting the dagger down quickly. 

"Someone who does not have time for your garbage," Leo said coldly. 

He turned away from the counter and walked toward the heavy wooden front door to leave. 

But as Leo reached for the door handle, he stopped. He looked down at the floor near his feet. 

Propping the heavy front door open was a large, ugly rock. It was round, gray, and covered in thick dirt and old spiderwebs. It was a geode, split completely in half. The inside was filled with dull, cloudy white crystals that looked like dirty sugar. It was completely unremarkable, just a heavy rock being used as a simple doorstop. 

But when Leo looked closely at the dirty crystals, the violet fire sparked briefly in his eyes. 

Inside the teenager's mind, the Supreme Archon almost smiled. 

“Fools,” Zayin thought. “These mortals live in a world of trash, and they use the only real treasure in the room to hold a door open.”

Leo reached down and picked up the heavy, dirty rock. He walked back to the counter and placed it in front of the confused shopkeeper. 

"I have ten dollars in my pocket," Leo said calmly. "I will give it to you for this rock."

The shopkeeper stared at the rock, and then he stared at Leo. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard his fat belly shook. 

"Ten dollars? For my doorstop?" the man laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Kid, you just made a big speech about knowing real magic, and now you want to buy a piece of dirty granite? Fine! Give me the ten bucks. A fool and his money are easily parted."

Leo reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill he had taken from the alley thugs, and tossed it on the counter. He picked up the heavy rock and walked out the front door. 

The little brass bell jingled as the door closed behind him. 

The moment Leo stepped out onto the empty, dark sidewalk of the Under-Market, he stopped walking. 

He held the dirty rock in his right hand. He didn't even bother brushing the dust off. He simply squeezed his fingers. 

The hard rock shell shattered like thin glass. 

The dull, cloudy white crystals broke away, falling to the dirty sidewalk. 

As the shell broke, a sudden, blinding light exploded from Leo's hand. 

Hidden perfectly inside the center of the ugly geode was a smooth, glowing stone the size of a golf ball. It was completely clear, like perfect glass, but inside it, a swirling storm of pure, silver magic spun wildly. 

It was an Aether Core. It was a piece of crystallized, ancient magic that had formed deep beneath the earth over millions of years. In his past life, Zayin would have used millions of these to power his floating cities. Here on Earth, it was a miracle to find just one. 

Leo took a deep breath, and he closed his fist tight around the Aether Core. 

He pushed his soul's energy into the stone, tearing it open and forcefully drinking the ancient magic inside. 

BOOM! 

A massive, invisible shockwave of raw, terrifying arcane power exploded outward from Leo’s body. It moved faster than the speed of sound. It swept through the narrow street, blowing out the streetlights in a shower of sparks. It rippled over the tall buildings, echoing violently across the entire city. 

Normal humans did not feel the shockwave. They just felt a sudden, cold breeze on their necks. 

But those who knew magic felt it like a bomb going off. 

High above the city, far away from the dirty streets of the Under-Market, stood the Apex Tower. It was the tallest skyscraper in the city, an eighty-story tower of black glass and steel. 

At the very top of the tower, inside the massive, luxurious penthouse office, the room was completely dark. The only light came from the city below. 

Sitting behind a massive mahogany desk was a man. He wore an expensive, custom-made suit, but there was something horribly wrong with him. His skin was pale and gray. Black veins bulged under the skin of his neck. 

This was Silas, the ruthless leader of the Obsidian Cartel. 

Suddenly, the invisible magical shockwave from the Aether Core slammed into the skyscraper. The thick, bulletproof glass windows of the penthouse rattled violently. 

Silas jerked forward, dropping his expensive crystal glass of whiskey onto the floor. It shattered into a hundred pieces. 

But Silas did not move to clean it up. His body stiffened. His eyes widened, completely consumed by absolute terror. 

For a moment, Silas’s normal human eyes vanished, replaced by solid, burning red orbs of demonic fire. A thick, dark smoke poured out of his mouth. When he spoke, it was not the voice of a man. It was a booming, monstrous, multidimensional voice that vibrated the walls. 

"This power..." the demonic entity inside Silas snarled, gripping the edge of the desk so hard the thick wood cracked. "This pure, violent soul pressure... It cannot be. It is impossible." 

The demon stood up, walking toward the window, looking out over the city with burning red eyes. 

"An Archon is on Earth," the demon growled into the darkness. "Find him. Find him before he realizes his true power. I want his head on a spike by midnight!"