Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale-Chapter 85: A King’s Oath

Kael, Alice, and Astra stood amidst the battlefield, the stench of charred flesh and scorched earth thick in the air.

The last remnants of the monstrous horde lay in broken heaps around them, their bodies still smoldering from the trio’s relentless onslaught.

Even in death, the creatures were unnatural—flesh writhing as if resisting oblivion, their twisted forms convulsing before collapsing into piles of blackened ash.

Their remains shimmered briefly with an eerie, otherworldly glow before disintegrating entirely, leaving only a faint, acrid mist lingering in the air.

Yet, the battle was far from over.

A thunderous boom echoed across the Anvil Bastion as the fortress gates groaned open, unleashing a tide of steel-clad warriors.

The dwarves, over three thousand strong, surged forth with a battle cry that shook the very ground beneath them.

"Open th’ gate! We cannae let ’em do all th’ work!" Thalrik roared, his thick beard bristling with the fury of battle. "Into formation!"

The heavily armored warriors obeyed without hesitation, their movements disciplined and precise.

Shields locked together, axes and warhammers raised high, they advanced with lethal efficiency, cutting down the remaining monsters with brutal coordination.

Kael, hovering above the battlefield with Alice beside him, watched the dwarves press forward. They moved like a tide of iron, sweeping through the remaining stragglers with ruthless precision.

"They’re holding their own," he mused, watching as the dwarves expertly dismantled the remaining monstrosities.

Alice, still scanning the battlefield, spoke with her usual calculating tone.

"Threats decreasing by 87%. Remaining hostiles incapable of sustained resistance. Estimated completion time: 20 minutes."

Kael nodded, shifting his focus to Astra. The enigmatic guardian moved with terrifying speed, his nanite blades slicing through flesh and bone with surgical precision.

Each slash dispatched a dozen creatures in an instant, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to anticipate every attack before it even occurred.

Astra’s mind, devoid of emotion yet teeming with analytical precision, noted Alice’s sustained magic output. Despite her relentless assault, her mana reserves remained stable, her internal systems regulating her energy consumption with flawless efficiency.

’Interesting,’ Astra calculated. ’Sustained combat effectiveness exceeds projected limitations. Possible external mana absorption? Further analysis required.’

Kael, satisfied that Astra and Alice were performing optimally, turned his attention back to the battlefield. He extended his hand, summoning a sphere of concentrated energy. The air vibrated as the spell took form, arcs of violet lightning crackling around it.

"I’ll clear the stragglers," he said, unleashing the spell with a flick of his wrist.

The orb detonated mid-air, unleashing a wave of destruction that incinerated everything in its radius.

The remaining monsters shrieked in agony as their bodies twisted and crumbled, their forms unraveling into tendrils of dark vapor before dissipating into nothingness.

The battlefield, once crawling with eldritch abominations, was now eerily still, save for the lingering embers of destruction.

The battlefield fell silent.

Kael lowered himself to the ground, his boots touching the blood-soaked earth.

The dwarves, now gathering in tight ranks, turned their gazes toward him. Their expressions were unreadable, but the sheer awe in their eyes was unmistakable.

Then, a single dwarf stepped forward—an elder warrior with scars carved deep into his face. Thalrik, his name spoken in hushed reverence among his kin, raised his axe high into the air.

"Victory!" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the still battlefield.

The dwarves erupted in cheers, their war cries echoing through the valley. Hammers and axes clashed against shields in a deafening chorus of triumph.

Kael exhaled, his body relaxing ever so slightly. The battle was finally won.

Meanwhile, in several locations where small rifts had opened, chaos erupted. Hundreds of thousands of alien-like creatures emerged, minus the massive winged beast that managed to escape through the rift near Gorath.

When the seal near Gorath was broken, it triggered a chain reaction across the interconnected seals strategically placed around the world. The rupture of one seal weakened the nearby ones, resulting in small tears that allowed minor monsters to slip through.

Multiple cities across the Demon Continent came under attack from this horde of alien-like creatures. Fortunately, the rifts were too small for larger monsters to emerge.

As soon as Kael managed to close the rift near Gorath, the others closed as well, enabling the defenders to hold their ground by retreating to their fortresses.

---

Gorath - Dwarven Kingdom

The clang of metal against stone reverberated through the dwarven halls as Kael strode through the grand corridors of Gorath, his companions following closely behind.

The weight of battle still lingered in the air, a reminder of the chaos that had only just subsided.

The fortress stood resilient despite the monstrous incursion, its ancient walls bearing the scars of the recent battle. Dwarven soldiers lined the halls, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and admiration as they watched Kael pass.

Inside the throne room, King Duraz sat upon his imposing stone throne, his thick fingers drumming against the armrest. His piercing gaze locked onto Kael the moment he stepped forward.

Seated beside him, a striking young dwarven woman adorned in royal garb observed the group with an intrigued smirk.

"I hear ye saved our hides, lad," King Duraz rumbled, his deep voice filling the chamber. "That unknown winged beast... if not fer ye, we’d be naught but cinders an’ dust."

Kael dipped his head respectfully.

"I was just lucky to be nearby."

The king let out a hearty chuckle, stroking his thick, braided beard.

"Luck, ye say? Bah! That was more than luck. Ye fought like a warrior of legend! And we dwarves do not forget a debt."

His gaze swept over Kael’s companions. Alice’s piercing gray eyes scanned the chamber with measured precision, while Astra stood beside her, her sharp focus locked intently on the king. Behind them, Lucien and Isolde maintained a quiet but steadfast presence.

Duraz leaned forward, his expression turning serious.

"Tell me, lad, is there anything you desire of me? Gold? Weapons? A title, perhaps?" The king’s grin widened mischievously. "Or could it be... my daughter’s hand in marriage?"

Kael’s posture stiffened, his composure faltering at the king’s final, unexpected remark

Alice tilted her head in curiosity, her golem-like precision analyzing the interaction, while Astra stood firm, his arms folded. His face remained impassive, betraying neither approval nor disapproval. Lucien and Isolde exchanged brief glances.

Kael cleared his throat, quickly composing himself.

"I appreciate the generous offer, Your Majesty, but there is something else I’d rather request."

Duraz’s brow lifted before speaking.

"Oh? Speak it then."

Kael turned his gaze toward the Iron Councilors seated beside the dwarven king, their bearded faces etched with wisdom and scrutiny. Then, he met the king’s piercing gaze once more.

"My request is actually concerning the rifts," Kael spoke, his tone firm yet respectful.

King Duraz leaned forward, curiosity flashing in his deep-set eyes. "The rifts? Aye, lad, I’m listenin’."

Kael took a measured breath before continuing.

"The reason a rift opened near your kingdom is that the seal keeping it closed was tampered with by an unknown group." He paused briefly, choosing his next words carefully. "When I attempted to repair the seal, I encountered someone who called himself Zarathor. He admitted to being the one responsible for breaking it—then vanished before I could stop him."

The king’s thick brows furrowed. "Zarathor, ye say? Bah! Never heard o’ the name. But why in the depths would he do such a thing?"

"That is what I intend to find out," Kael said. "But one thing is certain—he is up to no good."

A heavy silence fell over the chamber. Kael turned briefly to Alice, who stood as still as a statue beside him, then faced the king once more.

"There is something else you should know," Kael continued. "Five thousand years ago, the ancients fought against the monsters that emerged from these rifts. At first, they managed to hold their ground, but as the rifts expanded, greater and more terrible creatures poured through. Entire cities fell, and entire kingdoms were lost."

The dwarves listened intently, their expressions grim. Even the Iron Councilors, hardened veterans of war and governance, seemed disturbed by his words.

"The ancients eventually managed to create a prototype—the Seal of Eternus," Kael explained. "But activating it came at a terrible cost. Hundreds of thousands gave their lives to fuel the seal’s power and close the rifts. That power is now fading, and in four years, the rifts will fully reopen."

King Duraz’s face darkened.

"Four years..." he murmured. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrest of his throne. "Ye mean ta say that these horrors will return unless somethin’ is done?"

Kael nodded. "I was able to temporarily reinforce the seal near your kingdom, but it won’t last forever. To prevent history from repeating itself, I am requesting the assistance of your finest dwarven artisans. With their expertise, I intend to construct a device that will act as a deterrent to this threat."

The chamber fell into hushed murmurs as the Iron Councilors exchanged glances. Finally, one of them, a burly dwarf with a soot-streaked beard, spoke up.

"Yer talkin’ about a construct strong enough to fight against creatures from beyond our world," he said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "That be no small feat."

"Aye," another councilor agreed. "What kind o’ magic or metal could withstand such fiends?"

Kael turned to Alice and nodded.

"Show them," he said. Alice raised a hand, and a shimmering projection appeared before the gathered dwarves. It depicted a towering construct—an armored colossus of steel and enchanted metal, its design reminiscent of ancient war golems but on an unprecedented scale.

"This is Project Golem," Kael announced. "A fusion of magic and engineering, designed to combat the massive beasts that will emerge as the rift expands. It is a construct of war, one that will stand against the horrors beyond."

The Iron Councilors leaned forward, their eyes gleaming with fascination. Dwarven blood ran hot for craftsmanship, and at the sight of the intricate mechanisms and rune-etched plating, their excitement was palpable.

The towering construct before them was no mere golem—it was a marvel of war, a fusion of artistry and engineering, designed to stand against the horrors of the rift.

King Duraz leaned back in his throne, stroking his beard in contemplation. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.

"Aye... Now that be somethin’ worthy of dwarven hands."

He slammed a fist against his throne’s armrest. "Ye’ve got guts, lad. If ye say this creation o’ yers can hold the line against those fiends, then I’ll not stand idle."

Turning to his council, the king declared, "We’ll grant ye what ye need—our finest smiths, runemasters, an’ artificers! We’ll forge a legend that even the depths’ll remember!"

A resounding cheer erupted from the gathered dwarves, their voices rolling through the grand hall like thunder. Kael exhaled, feeling the weight of their commitment settle upon him.

The war against the rifts had only just begun—but now, he had allies whose craftsmanship could defy even fate itself.

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