Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

”Are you satisfied now?”

An old man with a hunched back stood before the Council of Vipers. He wore white robes and rested his hands on an unassuming staff.

He had no hair on his body except for the long white mustache that drooped past his chin. His eyes were a piercing gold with vertical black slits.

The council was enveloped in deathly silence.

To pay respect to Lord White, all of them had descended from the raised dais and stood on the floor instead. Even the black-haired serpent who proposed Adam take the Sacred Trials.

He stepped forward and said in a dignified tone, ”The last trial cannot be considered complete. He tried to kill himself. Almost did. If it weren’t for his strange regeneration ability, he might have died and failed the test.”

Lord White turned to the serpent and gave a gentle, grandfatherly smile.

”Adam has passed the Sacred Trials, Oryn.”

Oryn Valcyr, the grandfather of the serpent whose spine was used to forge the Staff of Calamity, protested, ”But he—”

Lord White interrupted him. ”I said he has passed the trials.”

The old serpent’s eyes flashed with a sharp light, and he added, ”Despite the increased difficulty.”

Oryn fell silent.

Lord White let out an amused chuckle. ”Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

None from the council replied. Least of all Oryn. He was the one to secretly increase the difficulty. He had expected Adam to die in the first trial. He wanted him to die. The results were beyond his expectations.

”Now none of you may question his worth,” Lord White declared. And though he smiled on the surface, the council knew it was a warning.

”Adam Constantine has passed the Sacred Trials. The laws of the Coil state that the Summoner be rewarded by the Council after passing the test. Have you decided on the reward?”

”But the Staff of Calamity—” One of the councilors protested.

”That was a personal gift from me to the boy,” Lord White said with a chuckle. ”Isn’t that right, Oryn?”

All eyes shifted to Oryn Valcyr. In the end, he nodded.

”Now then.” Lord White turned to leave. ”Decide upon the boy’s reward. It had better be commensurate with the difficulty of the trials. I trust you all will be fair.”

The councilors glanced at one another silently.

Oryn was lost in thought. He then turned to his fellow councilors and said with a sigh, ”Give him what he deserves.”

With that, he followed behind Lord White.

***

On a floating island, somewhere in the heart of the Coil, Adam lay on a bed of giant leaves, drifting in a pond.

He was unconscious. Strange jellyfish-like creatures latched onto his body, healing him. Though he didn’t need external healing. The jellyfish were reconstructing his flesh, undoing all the damage the serpents in the trials had done.

The raven-haired youth was unrecognizeable after spending forty-nine days inside the Scared Trials.

At the edge of the pond, two figures stood, silently watching him.

”I don’t understand,” Oryn said. ”What do you see in him?”

”Don’t you?” Lord White chuckled.

Oryn remained silent. He wouldn’t admit it, but passing the Sacred Trials—that too with increased difficulty—made him see Adam in a new light.

”Does not change the fact he lost the staff,” he said bitterly.

”He didn’t.” Lord White shook his head. ”It was destroyed.”

”Did you see his memories?”

”No,” the old serpent said.

Oryn scoffed. ”If he’s not hiding anything, why refuse to show his memories?”

”He must have his reasons, Oryn.” Lord White looked toward him. ”And I believe him.”

Oryn shook his head. He did not believe Adam’s words at all. The human must have sold the Staff somewhere.

”Why do you support him this strongly anyway?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Lord White chuckled heartily. He turned back toward the unconscious Adam, his golden gaze settling briefly on the youth’s patch of bone-white hair. ”Oh, I wonder…”

Oryn sighed. ”I hope you know what you’re doing, Old White.”

”I hope so, too.” Lord White smiled. Then he asked, ”So what has the Council decided?”

”A weapon.”

”Oh?” Lord White was curious.

”The boy was carrying a whip that could transform into a blade when he got here,” Oryn said. ”Even used the dead serpents in the trials like one. We’re rewarding him with something similar.”

He retrieved the box containing the weapon. He opened the lid and showed it to the old snake. When Lord White looked at it, he burst into laughter.

”You’re making sure he doesn’t lose this weapon too? The council sure is petty.”

”I’ll leave this with you,” Oryn said as he placed the box at Lord White’s feet. He turned to look at Adam and said flatly, ”The boy will think twice before losing this one.”

With that, he turned and left.

”He did not dishonor Little Sera’s memory,” Lord White suddenly said.

Oryn paused.

”The Staff’s sacrifice saved billions of lives,” Lord White continued. ”It’s what Adam claims. And I believe him, Oryn.”

Oryn was silent for a few moments, his thoughts a mystery.

Then he walked away.

***

Seagulls soared above. Salty water sprayed, dancing in the air.

A cool breeze gently caressed Adam’s face, whipping his hair. His eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. He saw the grey clouds and the blue sky above. Felt the wet sand below.

Disorientation struck him for a good minute before memories of what he had endured overwhelmed his mind. He grimaced as he sat back up. His hands trembled, and tears involuntarily flowed from his eyes.

So much pain and darkness and loneliness he had endured. It broke something inside of him.

After a long time, he looked around, trying to ascertain where he was. The Sea of Storms raged in front of him. The sky was overcast, the clouds hungry for chaos.

Behind him, the giant fortress stood proudly, its towers trying to pierce the heavens.

”The Citadel?” Adam murmured. ”I’m… I’m back?”

For a moment, he felt like he had just woken up from a long dream. Nightmare, actually.

He simply sat there on the beach, lost and broken. His finger brushed against the auburn band on his ring, the memory of his lover giving him a modicum of strength.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. He noticed something.

A dark serpent appeared to be coiled around his right hand.

It took a moment to realize that it was a tattoo. The scales looked incredibly lifelike. Adam traced the tattoo with his fingers. It began at his wrist, winding up his forearm before curling around his shoulder and extending toward his waist.

The black serpent had coiled across his broad back, its form stretching over two meters in length.

This tattoo was bound to his flesh. To his soul.

He imbued mana into the tattoo. Then, under his stunned gaze, it slithered across his skin and, in the blink of an eye, transformed into a whip.

With another simple command, the whip retracted to half its size and transformed into a sharp blade.

”It’s just like the one I was carrying,” Adam murmured.

The whip-blade, the favored weapon of the great adventurer Hannibal.

And now, it would appear that the Coil had rewarded him with something similar.

The blade transformed into a serpent in less than a heartbeat, then slithered back across his flesh and transformed into a tattoo.

The entire process was faster than what he would normally be capable of when using a physical weapon. Not to mention the ease with which he could seamlessly transition from casting spells to using the weapon.

It was the perfect weapon for him.

It almost made all the suffering he had endured to receive this reward worth it.

Almost…