Rise Of The Mirror King

Chapter 5: Mazikeen

My mouth tasted of blood and iron. My vision blurred from the impact, and a deep ache throbbed through my back.

I barely had time to register the pain before Symon's voice cut through my head.

"Mana Flow State, Tiger Tail Rewind."

I didn't understand what the words meant.

Then the world moved.

Not forward, but backward.

The courtyard vanished beneath me. The impact disappeared. The pain in my back pulled away as though someone had reached into the last few seconds of my life and dragged them backward.

For an instant, everything blurred.

Then I fell again. The window was in front of me. The same window. The same courtyard below.

The same moment I'd just lived through.

He rewound time.

There was no time to process it.

Instinctively, I drew my sword and twisted through the air, catching Zeldryl's next attack before his blade could tear through me.

Steel rang against steel.

Zeldryl's expression shifted. For the first time, I saw surprise in his eyes.

I landed hard and immediately turned toward him.

Time had definitely rewound.

Zeldryl stepped back and began circling me while Mazikeen watched with keen interest.

The hair on my skin rose. Another attack was coming.

Zeldryl exploded toward me.

He was faster this time, his blade cutting through the air with enough force that I knew there would be no room to dodge.

"Mana Flow State, Iron Fist." Symon's voice came again.

My body moved before I could think.

My left hand caught the tip of Zeldryl's blade and stopped his charge.

With my right foot, I drove a kick into his abdomen, sending him skidding backward across the stone.

Grey popped up beside me.

"You've significantly depleted your Mana Flow State using Tiger Tail Rewind and Iron Fist. This has cost you two years and two months from your total lifespan. You have eighty-seven point eight years remaining."

My hands got sweaty at that.

It was vague, but I could piece it together. I'd just parried off a blow that had already dealt a serious wound, like a cheat code, and I was paying for it with my life.

That made me rethink coming here alone.

Still, I readied myself for another assault.

But Zeldryl simply stood there, watching me like an unimpressed parent.

I soon understood why.

The High Archmage strolled into the courtyard, his hands tucked behind his back. The other two council members followed, along with Lucifero.

No one paid me any attention.

"We want no bloodshed. I hope we handle this like grown-ups," the High Archmage said, his voice calm as still water.

"My brother shall be avenged."

Zeldryl's voice came like thunder, rough and deep.

"I'm well aware of that—which is why I intend to renew your previous offer of guild membership. And, as a gesture of goodwill, I'll have my officers return the Chalice of Nimbus taken from your temple."

I couldn't understand why the High Archmage was negotiating at all.

With the force at his back, he could have repelled these two easily.

The voice in my head hissed.

[Tsk. You're naive. No one at the academy can stand against them.]

"Shut up and stay out of this," I tried to shut the voice up.

The entire company turned toward me.

Only then did I realize I'd said it out loud.

I swallowed hard and exchanged a tense glance with the High Archmage.

"My father wants his head," Zeldryl said, pointing his sword at me.

"Tell your father I'd like a word with him. We can discuss Symon's punishment afterward.

Zeldryl gave a slow nod and sheathed his sword.

He shot me one last, gloomy look before turning away.

"Argos."

A Janus gate tore open before them like an old curtain caught in a heavy wind.

Mazikeen winked at me before slipping through after him.

The night ended awkwardly.

No one said a word to me, and sleep didn't come easily. My mind kept circling the same question.

Was paying with my lifespan a cost everyone here bore, or just a consequence of me being here?

Morning came sluggishly.

Great bells rang across the courtyard, signaling the start of the day's activities.

For some reason, I'd expected to feel excited.

I was surrounded by different students, different people, different species. This should have felt like an adventure.

Instead, when I pulled on my black robe and caught my reflection in the mirror, all I saw was a face everyone already recognized as trouble.

I made up my mind to avoid any outbursts.

The air in the hall was hostile as usual—eyes glaring as I passed, whispers trailing behind me.

I reached the staircase and ignored all of it.

Astrid and Amelia were waiting.

I'd barely joined them when Lucifero arrived.

Seeing him, I excused myself and headed to class alone, leaving all three of them baffled.

Class didn't feel much different from Earth.

The seating arrangement was familiar. There was a blackboard at the front.

Only the chandeliers overhead and candles lining every wall reminded me that this wasn't home.

I took the front seat by the left window.

Amelia joined me soon after, close enough that I caught the faint, sweet scent of her hair.

She glanced at me once, then looked away.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"Good morning," she whispered back.

More fragments from Symon's memories surfaced that morning, filling in what had driven her to chase demons into their own territory—her mother's necklace, stolen by pickpockets, sold to a merchant, and eventually traded into the demon realm.

"You look troubled," I said.

"I am."

She looked at me but said nothing more.

Sir Gregor, Professor of Mystic Arts, entered just then.

I was still watching Amelia as we rose together.

"Good morning, Professor," the class chorused.

"Yes, yes. Good morning, my favorite students. Please, be seated."

A dozen chairs scraped the floor.

Pages turned.

"Today, I'd like us to examine something rather provocative. Any guesses?"

A few hands went up.

"Mr. Wardreth."

Sir Gregor's eyes landed on me, and my fingers went still.

Sitting at the front had been a mistake.

"Blood magic," Amelia answered before I could speak.

"Ah, yes—Miss Amelia Grandy. Blood magic, indeed."

Gregor turned to the board and began scribbling something across it.

"Blood magic is among the rarest of the mystic arts—banned for a thousand years, and only revived once strict regulations were put in place."

He turned back and came to a stop in front of my desk.

"I believe you can wield blood magic at will, Mr. Wardreth. Your father was a natural."

I simply nodded.

Whether Symon actually could, or whether it was just assumed because of his reputation, I couldn't say.

"Blood magic is potent and dangerous—its base requirement draws from the very substance of life shared by all living things."

He gestured toward the jars on our desks.

"Before you is a jar containing several members of the same insect species. Your task is to merge their separate existences into one body. Watch and learn."

He lifted his jar; three large live spiders crawled inside. He shut his eyes and murmured:

"Blood Manipulation, Two-Fold Divine Fuse."

The class watched in awe as the three spiders melted together into one larger, strangely colorful creature.

I stared down at my own jar, unsure what I was even supposed to do.

I was only sharing this body—not necessarily its powers.

Relax. Breathe in and out, and say the words as you mean them.

The voice in my head directed me.

"Blood Manipulation, Two-Fold Divine Fuse," I whispered.

Nothing happened at first.

Then the insects began rising, tearing apart and merging into a single mass, flesh swelling against the glass—

Until the jar exploded.

Fragments scattered across my face and desk.

The class erupted into chaos.

Your mana flow is unstable. You poured too much Mana into that spell.

The voice sounded almost disappointed.

"You could try again in the next class," Gregor said. "For those who succeeded—help your classmates. And no student is to replicate this outside of class for amusement."

"Yes, Professor Gregor," the class answered in unison.

That ended the lesson.

I skipped the next class to clean the mess off myself.

By the time I rejoined, it was Professor Vance's class—guild master of the Blazing Sun Guild.

He glanced up once and told me to sit, if I wasn't having too much trouble finding a seat.

Vance was midway through a lecture on potions and what it meant to use one.

"Mr. Wardreth. At what point does a potion become harmful?"

He stopped in front of my desk, drawing the attention of the entire class with him.

"When it strips away the other person's will and control," I answered, half guessing.

He gave a slow nod.

"Correct."

A quiet breath of relief escaped me.

"When a potion overrides the entirety of another being's existence, it stops being useful and becomes a deadly transgression."

He turned back to the blackboard.

That was when a sharp scream tore through the hallway.

"Everyone, stay calm," Vance started to say.

But it was already too late.

Students were flooding into the hallway to see for themselves.

I followed as well.

My stomach dropped at the sight.