Author's note: the Eldritch Realms is a sequel to the Disciple of the Liga Umbrei. I highly recommend reading the former before the latter. Even though so, reading the Disciple of the Liga Umbrei is not strictly necessary to understand and enjoy the Eldritch Realms. Best wishes.
Every time I looked upon the trees, I still remembered that day. Twelve I was when she came. Slyvia Vanhel, an infamous elven supremacist, came to our village. She razed our village and slaughtered everyone with her band. My uncle and my aunt brought me from Maluscia in the north to Lagolach somewhat in the south.
She pursued. I saw her behead my uncle and aunt and lob their heads at me.
Still I ran. I slept beneath trees, in the homes of kind villagers, in caves. Three months passed and I found myself in Phantasma: a new nation formed ten years ago after the war on Cawl. It was a rather exotic land, where men, elves, goblins, and vampires lived side by side. I eventually settled in Northern Phantasma after being taken care of in an orphanage. Six years had passed since then.
But my hatred for Sylvia never died out. Her cold eyes stirred fire within my eyes. One day, Robin. One day, I will behead her myself.
"Oh hey, Robin! Heading out so early?" Kara asked me. Kara was a vampire I met. I initially stayed at Mir Romata, the provincial capital of Northern Phantasma, but it was way too expensive. I moved to a smaller village nearby, rented a small cottage, and shared the costs with Kara. Whereas she was a seamstress, I trained myself in war magic.
"Yeah, I need to repair my staff."
"Right, you're going to that, what is it again?"
"Phantasma Yearly Duelling Arena," I said. It was an annual competition for war mages, held either in Mir Romata, Tar Cavel, or Nor Miroth, provincial capitals of Northern, Central, and Southern Phantasma respectively. Mage guilds most often recruited new members during this period. Rarely, one could even catch the eye of the High Lords and elevated into a Phantom, an elite battle mage. If I were ever to move to higher circles, I needed to at least have a good showing in the Arena. This year, it was held in Tar Cavel. Those who registered would be given a ride there for free, thankfully.
"By the way, the robes you ordered are done. You want me to send it straight to the enchanter?" Kara asked.
"That'd be much appreciated, thanks."
I headed to the magic shop. The manager was an old Alex Vandamme, a vampire I knew well. "Hello, Robin. What can I do for you?" Alex's shop may have looked rather shoddy; its lighting was scarce and it was a bit dusty. But Alex's skills were well known and his prices were quite acceptable.
"I need my staff repaired," I said.
"Ah. You must be heading to the Arena," he said. I handed him my broken staff. The one metre long staff was made of mahogany and decorated with a small sapphire on top. The sapphire had declined in quality and many of the enchantments had been broken since I used it all the time doing bounty hunting.
"Three gold coins should suffice."
I took my pouch and placed the coins. "When is it finished?"
"Half an hour. You should wait here."
Half an hour later my staff was done. I slept in the cottage for one last time. Everyone in the Arena would have their own tricks, but I also had aces up my sleeve. I took it from a chest enchanted with my sealing magic.
My treasure.
It was a little black book, a grimoire of sorts. I found out in a cache that I stumbled upon in a cave during my escape from Maluscia. It was short, only eight pages long. Yet in those eight pages I discovered an esoteric art: whereas most mages channeled mana into elemental powers, I could harness the power of mana itself. I copied the spells into scrolls and absorbed them long ago.
Yet there were several spells that I did not recognize, all placed in the eighth and last page. I copied and absorbed two of the spells, but they confused them. They appeared... alien, as if such spells were not meant for a human like me. So I left them alone. I placed my treasure back in its chest.
The next day, when sunlight shone bright through the cloudless sky, I bode farewell to Kara and the other villagers. In Mir Romata, a fleet of airships were ready to transport us. Airships began to be developed after the war, and Phantasma was at its forefront. To this day only Phantasma had a fleet of war airships; I often saw them flying near Mir Romata.
The airships, all three of them, were terrifyingly fast. In only several hours we had reached Tar Cavel. "Whoa...," I muttered. I thought Mir Romata was large. Tar Cavel was at least fifty percent larger. And significantly brighter, too. Northern Phantasma was populated mainly by vampires, so most of its cities were kept dim.
We were brought to an open ground. On an elevated platform stood three people. On the left was High Lady Anise of Northern Phantasma, a cold vampire with a comically oversized hat (probably to fend off heat). To her right was High Lord Autumn of Central Phantasma, a jovial young man with an eagle on his left shoulder. The rightmost position was taken by High Lady Magna, a redhead elven witch scanning the field with her eyes.
"Well then." Using some sort of spell Lord Autumn's voice boomed. "Welcome, one and all, to the Arena. I would like to begin with a long speech, but that seems unnecessary based on how eager you are!"
He laughed slightly. "Nevertheless, the Arena's... games have differed from one another. This year, you will be plunged into a pocket dimension. You will then face enemies, in total some eight hundred or nine hundred, in the dimension, as well as traps. Each enemy slain grants you a small green gem. You will be rewarded and evaluated by the amount of gems you have at the end of the game, which is an hour after the game begins. Everything is fair game... except outright purchasing them with money or promising influence. The Phantoms will watch closely for any violation of this sole rule. Anyone deemed too injured will be instantly teleported out. Prepare yourself! We begin in ten minutes!"
I spent the time weaving a barrier around me. I wasn't stupid, and neither were the High Lords. No, the most casualties would come from when we first arrived. We were likely to be teleported to a trap, or worse, an enemy.
"Three, two, one! Begin!"
Immediately upon teleportation a shower of flames descended upon me. My barrier held firm, but I saw many around me falling immediately. I turned and saw one who stood. It was a tall and intimidating young man, perhaps 24 years old (the age limit of the Arena; they didn't want archmages to jump in and whoop everyone's arses). He was a redhead and he had a large warhammer.
"So."
"So."
"I genuinely don't see any benefits to us fighting here," he said, breaking the awkward tension. "Temporary truce?"
"Deal!" I said.
I looked around. This pocket dimension was a labyrinth-like castle. Almost immediately I encountered a pair of the enemies: crude constructs animated with shadow magic, most likely High Lady Anise's. They extended their shadow tentacles at me, which I blocked with a mana barrier. I extended my own bluish tentacles, seizing them and crashing them against the walls. They vanished, leaving behind two peculiar green gemstones. I took them and put them in a bag we were given.
"This won't do," I muttered to myself. I sent in a flock of birds to seek out the largest concentration of enemies.
My birds found one such concentration inside some sort of storage room. I crafted an explosive from my magic. Once I opened the door, I threw the explosive orb inside. I squatted and closed my ears.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion hurled the constructs towards ruin. But my birds soon detected another anomaly; a horde of other competitors was coming to my position. My breath drew heavy. It was a trap.
Not one I couldn't get out of. I quickly gathered the green gems and hid. I withdrew my birds and prepared a powerful bomb. A dozen or so competitors came.
"Damn, we were late!" one of them cursed.
