102 Interlude: A Brewing Storm Part Three

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The Plague Emperor snapped his fingers, and the body and the head of the shorter mage expanded drastically. Like an overfilled barrel, the mage exploded, sending bits and pieces of rotting flesh and gore everywhere. The dark blood spread out even further, reaching close to where the boy was hiding.

'Just like mom!' The boy's eyes flashed as he witnessed this gruesome display. Except the mage's abdomen had exploded along with his head.

His eyes darted to the defeated figure of the Plague Emperor. Immeasurable anger was boiling from within him. The pain of losing his mother in such a brutal fashion had finally surfaced! He reached into his tattered trouser pockets and retrieved his blunt knife. It lacked a proper edge, but the little boy didn't care. He wanted the man to die a painful death by a thousand cuts!

The Plague Emperor closed his eyes and started to meditate. Slowly, his body started to shine with an ominous black aura. His skin started to boil and disintegrate at the same time. The boy who was observing this was startled once again. Unable to contain his curiosity, he revealed himself and walked towards the disintegrating figure.

Upon approaching the figure, the boy saw that not only were the skin and flesh turning to dust, so were the bones. 

The boy was an arm's length away from the Plague Emperor. He slowly raised the knife above his head and aimed it carefully so that in its descent, it would penetrate straight through the mage's eye sockets. 

The boy knew that mages were strong, much stronger than average humans. He had also seen the phenomenal displays between the mages before. The boy knew that his chances of successfully taking this man's life were non-existent. But the boy didn't care!

From birth, all the boy had in his life was his mother. She was the only constant throughout his tumultuous childhood. The only reason he wore a painful smile even as the family suffered was for her. He lived for her, just as much as she lived for him. So now that she was gone, what did he have to live for?

Suddenly, the mage's eyes opened wide and locked onto the boy. Through instinctual fear, the boy leapt backwards and fell on his bottom. He expected the mage to exact a terrible vengeance on him, instead, the mages face started to melt off and immediately turned into dust at the same time.

The scene was frightening, to say the least. It occurred in layers: first, the surface epidermis turned porous and peeled off. Then the muscle underneath started to tear and disintegrate. The eyes went next, this one scarred the boy the most. Finally, it was the blood, which immediately steamed off, leaving just the skull.

The boy expected the skull to disappear too, but it didn't. The grim skull remained, emanating a threatening yet inviting aura. Enthralled by it, the boy reached forward and picked it up.

He turned the skull in his hands and brought it close to his face. As the skull's empty eye sockets lined up with his own. The boy was taken into a trance.

He was shown a vision! A terrible vision! Of a disease so devastating that the world itself shook in fear!

The Plague Emperor had died... Long live the Plague Emperor!

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The man's serene eyes burst open, and a wave of mana pulsed out. Although the man appeared calm on the surface, he was completely nonplussed and agitated. The room he was in was dark. The curtains were drawn in, and barely any light made its way through. Infrequent flickering green lamps tinged the room a dangerous shade, accentuating the terror within. 

The room itself appeared to be a lab. There were cages of squeaking rats, hooks with flayed humans and beasts, vials and tubes of liquids pouring and bubbling, and a single bed-board with a shackled, naked and unconscious human male. 

"Another failed introspection..." The man muttered as he cracked his fingers. His deep dark eyes were laced with anger, that surprisingly failed to tinge his extremely pale, yet pleasing face.

After releasing his pent up anger through additional waves of mana, he raised his body and hovered in place. With a glance, a fresh set of socks and shoes darted towards him and climbed up his feet. The one on the left weaved up effortlessly, however, the one on the right moved up more carefully as it avoided disturbing the charred, shrivelled foot.

He hovered forward, making it look as though he was walking, towards the sole pedestal in front of his meditation area and gazed deeply at the radiating skull placed on it.

"You should have at least left my mother alone," the man muttered threateningly towards the skull. "She never did anything to you. Why infect her?"

However, the man already knew the answer. The advancement to the Tesseract Transformation realm was most perilous for a mage. The tribulation that one suffers through in this process can often lead the mage to do terrible things and/or suffer terrible damage.

The spell that turned his mother into a flesh-eating monstrosity was an accident. An unexpected release of magical power laced with an aura that the late Plague Emperor was most familiar and proud of. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

However, her death was imprinted into the boy's mind and had carried over into his adulthood. It was also the thing stopping him from advancing in his spiritual cultivation. Without doing so, he would be eternally stuck in the Core Condensation realm.

He had only made it so far, and that too so quickly, thanks to the skull from the man he hated so much. It was an inheritance artefact, one that encapsulated the terrible life and dreams of the living calamity, the Plague Emperor. Sure, he did have some support and benefit from his Teacher during his youth. But that was all a means to an end.

And the end was to eliminate the greatest plague to this world, Mages.

"Idiots without brains using powers beyond their means to do unspeakable acts," the man muttered. "Even the so-called righteous sects are just malicious entities publicised in a nice wrapper!"

"They must all... disappear," he muttered resolutely with overflowing madness and anger in his eyes. In fact, his rage extended beyond just mages. To him, the entire world was a plague that needed purging. The only good in his life was taken from him. And for that, he would exact his revenge! An eye for an eye - he would take everything!

The man curled his palm into a shaking fist as his mind churned furious machinations. Right as his rage reached its peak a series of knocks at his door interrupted his momentum. Without waiting for an affirmation, it simply flung open and a regal-looking man walked with a disdainful frown on his face.

"Why haven't you made any progress yet, Ziva?" The man interrogated. "We've been bankrolling you and letting you do these grotesque experiments for years now! Was the Plague of Dark Cleansing your best?"

Ziva Lune suppressed the urge to unleash unrelenting hell upon the miscreant right then and there. But he held himself back. The bastard was just a pawn, not worthy of sacrifice just yet. Everything would fall into place soon, he needed to be patient.

Ziva exhaled a long breath to centre his emotions and spoke up, "It is getting harder and harder to do so, given that your monarch so eagerly publicised my affiliation with the kingdom."

"Humph! Excuses! You were the one who promised us you would take down that irksome Solar Empire once and for all. I remember exactly how you begged and grovelled on your knees," the man chortled in derision.

'But then that imbecile of a King just had to go and open his mouth!' Ziva complained internally. As his emotions picked up again, the room started to undulate with unstable mana. Interestingly, the other man wasn't the least bit affected. Evidently, Ziva and this man were somewhat equally matched. The only thing diving them, of course, was political backing. The man, known simply as Maise, no last name, was the King's most loyal of dogs. So, he effectively had the backing of the monarch of the Blackstar Kingdom. On the other hand, although Ziva held the position of a sect master it was only in name. There was literally no one else in the sect. No one wanted to be affiliated with or even approach the demon that unleashed the Plague of Dark Cleansing. A plague that had annihilated a region comparable to a small city and quite literally salted the fields, turning it into a veritable no man's land.

"I heard that you will be travelling to the Solar Empire as an ambassador?" Ziva said in trying to change the topic.

"Yes. They're trying a new thing: Political Marriage. The ruler of the Solar Empire has gone soft, he wants to extend peace. Pssht! He's even willing to put the heads of one of his daughters on the chopping block in the name of peace! Can you believe that?"

"Which one?"

"What?"

"Which one will they marry her off to?"

Maise paused as if hesitating and then answered, "The Third Prince."

One must know that Maise was a horrible, horrible man. His hands were stained with the blood of both children and the elderly. If the King told him to take a life, he would do it no questions asked. He had tortured many who were deserving and many who weren't. However, he never took pleasure in it. It was simply work. But the Third Prince was different. That boy was twisted. The fact that just his mention gave even Maise pause spoke volumes of the Prince's cruelty.

"That's unfortunate," Ziva muttered.

"Anyways, what is it that you want?" Maise retorted

"I want to try a different strategy. The mages of the empire have grown vigilant. Even a slight itch within their circle is met with a severity equalling the worst of plagues. This new strategy of mine is slower, but I believe that it can execute immense damage given time."

As Ziva spoke, he approached one of the cages with a rat in it and picked one out. After that, he moved towards his workbench and retrieved a phial that was bubbling with a greenish-black liquid. He extended a mote of his mana into the liquid and raised it skillfully. A multi-layered mana circle materialised in the hand controlling the liquid and started to encompass the liquid as a whole. The circle started spinning, causing the liquid to glow in the process. Skillfully, he plunged the tip of his ring and index finger right into the rat's abdomen and channelled the rotating liquid into it. The rat screeched in agony as the liquid, in its entirety, was siphoned into its tiny body.

After a short minute, the liquid was completely drained, and the rat went into a hibernating state. Ziva quickly stuffed the rat into a transparent glass container and sealed it by activating the mana gem embedded above it. He handed the container to Maise and instructed, "I want you to release this specimen somewhere secluded inside the empire. Preferably, it should be close to a place where a lot of mortals live. It shouldn't be close to a high foot traffic area though. So that means to avoid cities, especially the capital. The specimen needs to survive, so don't send it into perilous territories either."

Maise nodded half-heartedly and waved Ziva away. He then extended his mana and held the sealed container suspended in the air a few metres away from him. Although Maise was scornful of Ziva, he respected the man's power. Maise did not want to be infected by whatever was residing within this unlucky rat.

Just as Maise turned to leave, his eyes landed on a pedestal with a skull placed on it. Maise had seen it many times before, usually hanging around Ziva's neck or on his belt. However, those times, the skull simply appeared as a garish trinket and was often overlooked. Now though, there was an appeal to it. It felt special!

As his gaze started to grow increasingly fixated, Ziva immediately moved before him and blocked his line of sight.

"Do you want one too?" Ziva asked casually as he picked up the skull from a pedestal. "It's really helpful when you're trying to meditate. Helps you get into your own head," Ziva said while chuckling.

Maise smirked disdainfully before turning to leave.

Ziva watched Maise's retreating back for a while before turning and embedding himself into his work. This time, he approached the unconscious male tethered to the bed-board and started to inject a series of needles at strategic points. Once the final needle pierced the man, the man suddenly opened his eyes and burst into agonising screams.

However, they were cut short with a swipe of Ziva's hand. The man's vocal cords had been severed from within.

"Hush, now. I'm trying to work," Ziva muttered before continuing his torturous series of experiments.