Arcane Heir: History's Strongest Mage-Chapter 196: Heist (2)

The icosahedron was resplendent, each of its triangular faces looked smooth and glassy, yet it glowed with a purity that was difficult to explain. Michael had seen this color before, it was the same pure white as his soul.

He watched on in awe, not even realizing that the other figures who’d breached the room had also stopped in place to gaze at it longingly. Even though he’d never seen the Aetherheart before, Michael knew instinctively that this had to be it.

"Grab the stone." His host’s gravelly voice spoke up, ordering the other hooded figures.

There was some hesitation before one of them moved forward, summoning what looked like a wooden box from his storage ring. It seemed plain and unadorned apart from some runes carved into its surface.

Michael could feel his host’s breathing quicken as the figure opened the lid of the chest, his anticipation rising.

The winds stirred within the circular room, sending bits of dust and small fragments of stone whipping through the air. Yet instead of panicking, everyone seemed even more excited.

The Aetherheart spun faster, its once visible surfaces turning blurry. Its glow dimmed and brightened repeatedly, looking like it was about to go berserk, yet still no one seemed fazed by this.

After a few moments, the winds died down instantly, as did the spinning of the stone.

"Quick, take it!" the guy Michael was inhabiting hissed, his voice filled with impatience.

The figure with the chest visibly flinched before moving forward a moment later with some urgency. Instead of reaching out with his hand, he held up the wooden chest towards the stone.

For a moment nothing happened, causing some confusion within the room. It was as if they had expected something else entirely.

Just as his host opened his mouth to bark out his next set of orders, the Aetherheart trembled slightly before being pulled from the air and falling into the wooden box.

The moment it did, the hooded figure closed the lid with tremendous speed, as if afraid that it would escape from the box. Only then did his body relax, his relief visible. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Hand it to me, we need to get out of—"

"YOU DARE!?"

A thunderous voice echoed within the room, startling everyone.

Michael felt an assault on the hosts body as a significant pressure weighed down on him. If it was just this he might not be so affected, but it felt as if something was crushing his soul, attempting to snuff him out of existence.

Not good! He cried inwardly, feeling panicked.

This had never happened before when he dreamed. Even when he’d experienced the attack from the demon that appeared from the dimensional rift, his soul had never felt in danger.

I need to leave!

His thoughts melded with his host for the first time since inhabiting his body, giving rise to fear. The problem was, he had no idea how to return to his own consciousness, let alone put an end to the dream.

He saw a violet glowing magic circle appear in the center of the circular room where the Aetherheart had just been floating a moment ago. The air trembled, causing the room to shake violently, as if the castle was mirroring the wrath of the approaching mage.

A crimson robe slowly came into view, revealing short legs. Panic had now taken over the hooded figures, yet no one moved—as if they were rooted in place by something.

Michael could only stare at the crimson-robed figure slowly appearing in the center of the room. Without the Aetherheart’s light illuminating the area, the only source of light was the violet magic circle.

A short figure soon stood in the center of the room, his red bushy beard the only feature of his face visible in that moment.

Michael’s breath hitched as he stared incredulously at the figure.

Headmaster!?

No that was impossible. His soul should only be able to send him to the past to view events that had already happened. Since the headmaster had only been at the academy for three years now and he’d never heard of an attempt to steal the Aetherheart, such a thing wasn’t possible.

"Give it back!" the crimson-robed figure yelled, throwing out his left arm and sending a gigantic fireball from his palm. In an instant, the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

The sound of an explosion rattled his brain, causing his soul to tremble.

T-that was unstructured magic... He’s an expert.

To see such a powerful spell fired off without incantations or even a magic circle meant that whoever had cast it was a master mage. Even Michael who had very limited knowledge of such things was aware of the difficulty of casting unstructured magic.

But he had no time to mull over the situation any longer. It felt like his soul was going to be snuffed out at any moment, making him even more panicked.

The body he was inhabiting seemed to think this was a perfect time to rush forwards, an artifact held tightly in his hand. Instead of running away, he was heading towards the crimson-robed figure.

Does he have a death wish!? Michael cried out in his heart.

The guy swiped out his left arm, his intentions unclear. Yet what happened next caused Michael’s heart to stop. Instead of a hand, it was a giant claw that manifested, glistening black scales visible on its surface.

A shield flashed around the bearded figure, but he was pushed back by the impact—flinging him into the opposite wall with speed.

Instead of following up on the attack, Michael’s host turned towards the charred remains of the one who’d been holding the wooden chest. As he looked down, the wooden chest seemed untouched, its runes glowing with a faint black color.

He bent down in one swift movement and retrieved the chest before turning to the nearest window and launching himself out of it.

Wind assault his body as he flew out of the window and plummeted towards the ground from the fifth floor, yet there was no panic—in fact Michael could feel a sense of triumph in his heart.

Then a tremendous pain assaulted him from behind, causing the figure to let out a pained roar. As the ground fast approached, Michael felt a sense of dread as he braced himself for the pain that was sure to come.

But surprisingly, the impact he had been waiting for never came.

Instead, something tore through the very fabric of space just a few feet from the ground, right below him.

In the next moment, Michael’s vision went dark.

"Well done comrade."