Chapter 509: Tear in the fabric of reality (1/2)

Just as the elder councilman finished his speech, the crowd erupted into a loud, excited cheer.

From the chairs, two purple-robed councilmen stood up and walked up to the elder taking his left and right side respectively. The trio took a step back, taking their spots, creating a small triangle formation. They looked at each other, and as the elder with the golden threaded purple robe nodded, they began to chant, murmuring some incomprehensible words.

Their eyes closed, they were fully immersed into their cast, speaking in an unknown tongue, whilst pulling all of their inner energy, their mana towards their stretched-out right palms.

Meanwhile, as though their mutterings were not intelligent, just some jumbled mess, to Aiden, it was another round of shocking revelation. As soon as the trio began to cast the spell that would open a specialized [Gateway] towards this deserted, barren realm, the Battlegrounds, his system began to cry with the sound of notifications inside his mind.

He was wide-eyed with surprise as he opened up and read through the updates he received.

[Ancient Language: Demonic Discovered! Analyzing information… Error: Spirit attribute is too low to progress in this discovery.]

[Note: By activating (Divinity: Basic) the host's statistics can be boosted allowing the system to begin the analyzation process. Does the host wish to do so?

Warning: The action will require a constant flow of the host's [Soul Power], draining the reserves.]

Below the message, the familiar Yes and No words were floating, the first with a neon-green light whilst the latter in a deep shade of red. Unlike before, the system could bypass the lack of parameters and use Aiden's growing divinity to start the learning process!

Aiden's eyes went wide upon this realization. He could actually start learning one of the Ancient Languages! Though he wasn't overly learned about worldly matters, during his years under the heavy, constant 'care' of his master, Number 3, and Granny, he did learn bits and pieces of some of these myths and legends.

Adding the memories he gained from the old orcish monsters from the tower and what the soul fragment of his father had shared, he knew that these Ancient Languages carried a great, mystical power in themselves. Like the Dragons, Angels, or the Runecrafters, the Demon's language was also incredibly powerful.

Whilst the Dragons were mostly about dominance and power, the angels were about nature and all that was holy and the dwarven rune words were mostly about creation, the Demons were the most dangerous of them all. They were about destruction, darkness, and control over death.

Thinking about his options for a bit, ultimately Aiden decided against using his power for several reasons. Even if the prospect of learning one of the fabled Ancient Languages was an incredible chance, it would most likely serve as just the start of a long journey. He wouldn't gain anything for the short term, but only waste his reserves, whilst also risking of revealing his most precious, most guarded secrets. Also, he was still not sure how or where he will go and in the other realm what traps or ambushes he would need to survive right at the beginning. For better or worse, reserving as much of his own energy as he could, was the best choice.

Reaching for the red-toned 'No' option at the right side of the screen and -though with a heavy, bleeding heart- he dismissed the notification.

Just as the message disappeared, the spell, the grand spectacle of this launch event, has seemed to just reach its conclusion as well. The 3 robed elders began a sonorous sonata as they exclaimed each, strange word louder and louder. Gradually their tones shifting, a strange guttural undertone appearing in the midst of their speech.

The air inside the triangle they formed soon began to whizz and sizzle. Thin cords of a light-toned smoke appeared, as if a little, innocent spark of fire was lit, brimming with excitement as it laid its infantile eyes to this exciting, vibrant world.

Before the invisible illusionary little pyre could explore further, the magic that it was born from changed again, shifting its intone, transforming the little newborn luster, twisting it further. The spark acquiescing to its originator's demand, changed and transformed. Its mass expanded, turning into a hungry-looking amorphous blob. With an unseething hunger, it greedily gobbled at the air, reaching further and further as it kept growing, taking more and more of the space around it.

Quickly, in just a manner of seconds, the little dot-like spark has grown into the size of a plum. Its original blinding white light corrupted as it absorbed more and more of the Space Essences readily available in the air around them, shifting into a matte ebony night gradient as it kept evolving.

Time passed as the elders kept on shouting, yelling like madmen. Each word carried more and more air out of their lungs, sucking more and more of their already faltering stamina just to give a slightly higher surge of the rush as the words joined to the chord with the rest.

Still, the small hole, the little tear in the fabric of reality seemed to react to each and every one of the seemingly unintelligent gibberish these crazed elders were yelling. Each time a word echoed in the filled-up square, the edges of its membrane trembled, only to light up with another wave of hunger and reach for the next bite, the next segment of the air to claim as their own domain.

In a minute, the little plum was the size of an average person's head, and it showed no signs of calming down. It kept growing, expanding, and as time went on, changing.