HP: Sacred Gear Chat Group (2) - Chapter 48 (Patreon)

Chapter 48 - The Eye of Magnus

“Do you have a plan?” Ghislaine asked as she nimbly jumped out of the way of the incoming heavy axe.

“Let me think!” I replied quickly while carefully activating my Magic Power Eye, making sure not to blind myself with all the Magicka filling the surrounding space.

The inscriptions on the Eye of Magnus were, as expected, completely unfamiliar. They didn't resemble any known language in the Elder Scrolls Universe.

While I wasn't an expert, I had at least glanced at many languages while copying out the Arcanaeum. I should have been able to identify them.

Whatever was written on the Eye, it certainly wasn't anything that had been used recently. And by recently, I meant within the last few thousand years, since the Merethic Era.

It might very well have been a language used during the creation of Mundus.

“You may not have much time to think, friend!” Agnar shouted as he used his own trusted heavy axe to deflect Jyrik's, dispersing the force of the impact into the surrounding area.

But Agnar was right.

While I was busy thinking and trying to figure out how to cut off the connection between Jyrik and the Eye of Magnus, the amount of Magicka flowing into Jyrik had increased exponentially.

If only I could disperse or absorb some of it...

Yeah, I was an idiot.

Here I was, making all the preparations in case someone took the Eye from me and began misusing its power against me. Meanwhile, I had completely forgotten about the boss, who would be using the Eye in the first place.

And then I didn't even think of using my countermeasure against said boss. His very existence had somehow made me forget the obvious.

The Staff of Magnus should work here, too!

“I got it!” I shouted as I fumbled inside my magically expanded bag, quickly pulling out the Staff of Magnus.

“FUS RO DAH!” Jyrik shouted at me, sending a wave of pressure straight toward me.

I was ripped off my feet and sent flying through the air. The Staff of Magnus and my bag flew out of my hands as I crashed painfully into the ground several meters away.

“Alistair!” Ghislaine shouted in worry as she intercepted Jyrik, who had been heading straight toward me.

Of course, he knew how to Shout, too. Back then, everyone knew how to use the Thu'um.

“I’m fine.” It was a good thing I was a Devil and not an ordinary human. We were built to be more durable. Otherwise, that could have ended quite nastily.

Pushing myself back onto my feet, I silently used Accio to summon the Staff of Magnus back into my hand.

Meanwhile, Agnar used his own heavy axe to send the undead Jyrik flying several meters backward with a devastating strike. While we might not be able to inflict any damage on him, that didn't mean he was completely unaffected by physical forces.

We could still push him around.

That opening gave me enough time to use the Staff. With a bit of concentration, I began draining the Magicka out of Jyrik.

A massive amount of Magicka traveled from the Staff of Magnus into my body.

Too much!

At the same time, the Magicka shield surrounding Jyrik began to weaken.

There was so much Magicka flowing into me that my hands began to burn with pain after just a few seconds. The sensation quickly spread.

And I hadn't even drained a quarter of his shield, which was constantly recharging from the Eye of Magnus.

It seemed that being undead had some advantages when it came to how much power you could handle.

My body already had a highly developed Magic Power System, thanks to my natural gift as a descendant of the Original Malphas. My innate ability developed and adapted my body to everything related to magic and power.

It made me capable of learning anything given enough time. While I had no limits on what I could learn and would only get faster and better at it, the process still took time.

Time I simply didn't have right now.

Forced to stop, I felt the pain that had built up in my arms begin to recede. Yet, at the same time, the Magicka shield surrounding Jyrik began to recharge.

“Why did you stop!?” Agnar shouted as his attacks once again did nothing at all. Moments ago, at least some of the force behind his blows had managed to inflict slight damage.

Recovering from the pain, I replied, “Too much Magicka for me to handle!”

“By Shor! If you can't handle it, then neither of us will be able to!” And he wasn't wrong. Among the three of us, I was the best magic user.

Ghislaine only showed interest in spells that could enhance her close-combat abilities, such as Oakflesh and its more advanced forms. Agnar, meanwhile, was a more balanced fighter, but his main focus was still close combat with his axe. Magic was simply his go-to option for long-range attacks when he had no other choice.

“Wasn't this Staff meant to control this Eye?” Ghislaine asked.

For a moment, I wasn't sure what she meant, but then I remembered how it had been used in the game.

“Be ready to give him hell!” I shouted to my two companions.

Whirling the Staff around, I pointed it at the floating Eye of Magnus, which was glowing with an immense amount of Magicka. With another burst of concentration, I activated the Staff. In the next instant, the Eye of Magnus released a blinding flash of light, severing its connection to Jyrik.

“Now!”

They didn't even need my signal. Agnar had already raised his heavy war axe for a massive strike, pounding the annoying Draugr into the ground.

Next, Ghislaine appeared in a flash behind Jyrik and calmly sheathed her blade.

For a moment, Jyrik didn't move.

Then his mummified head slid off his shoulders, dropping onto the cold stone floor of the chamber with a dull thud.

“That was far more exhausting than it should have been,” Agnar grumbled as he crushed the Draugr's head beneath his heavy steel Nord boots.

Jyrik was dead.

Finally.

“Yes, that's finally over.” I sighed. We had pretty much fought the Eye of Magnus itself. Jyrik wasn't that powerful of an opponent.

He had simply figured out how to harness the Eye's power, making him far more dangerous than he had any right to be.

What's done is done.

Wiping his axe clean with some rags, Agnar eyed the Eye of Magnus. “So that's what caught your interest? What is it? It looks impressive.”

“It's called the Eye of Magnus.”

Agnar whistled. “Fancy name. The Eye of the God of Magic himself. So, what does it do?”

“That's the big question.” I chuckled.

“You don't even know what it's for, yet you wanted it?” Agnar asked, baffled. He gave me a look of disbelief. “Aren't you always the guy chasing after riches? This ruin had very few of them.”

“Research materials!” I corrected him.

“Gold is a research material?”

“It can be, and it buys more of them.” I shrugged. “But isn't the Eye of Magnus the ultimate research material? A ton of people have been after it for a very long time. Those Akaviri invasions? I'm pretty sure the Eye of Magnus was the reason behind them. And now those Psijic Monks, too. Nobody knows what it is, yet so many people are interested in it. Some even go to war over it! It must have incredible research value!”

“If you say so.” Agnar commented, sounding far from convinced.

Honestly, I wasn't entirely convinced myself. But ever since I started playing Skyrim, I'd been wondering what the Eye of Magnus actually was, and those lazy fucks at Bethesda still hadn't given me an answer.

Fuck Starfield! I want TES6!

Now I was finally getting the answer myself!

“At least it contains an immense amount of magical power that can be harnessed,” a smooth female voice commented.

“It certainly does.” I agreed, giving the glowing Eye a closer look. I memorized the unfamiliar arcane inscriptions covering its surface. “I'm hoping to harness it as a source of power in the future.”

“It should work if you use the Staff of Magnus as a conduit. I believe that was one of its main purposes before mages throughout history repurposed its enchantment for combat.” She replied analytically.

“Exactly my thoughts! The Staff of Magnus is clearly a control device meant for the Eye. I also wonder if it can access the Eye's other functions. Its name, along with other historical clues, suggests that it was used as a scrying device. Probably the most powerful one in existence.” I mused, remembering the Orrery in TES: Online and the other clues.

“Yes, the Khajiit have the most extensive myths about it.” She readily agreed. “Their myths suggest that this is actually Magnus's second eye.”

“I know.” I nodded, admiring the immensely powerful object in front of us.

“Alistair,” Ghislaine whispered to me.

“What?”

“Turn around.”

“Huh?” I muttered as I noticed that both Agnar and Ghislaine had drawn their weapons again, pointing them toward... two other people.

One of them I recognized instantly: the sexy Dark Elf, Brelyna, who greeted me with a cheeky, seductive smile.

The other one wasn't anyone I knew.

“Good Day!” she greeted me elegantly with a tilt of her head.

It was the same voice I'd just been talking to.

-- Lucius Malfoy POV --

Lucius Malfoy had always considered Knockturn Alley an unpleasant necessity.

Its narrow streets, perpetually shrouded in shadows, were populated by men whose names he preferred not to know and whose company he would never willingly acknowledge. Yet necessity, as Lucius understood it, was a matter of convenience rather than principle.

When a task required a certain degree of discretion, one occasionally had to tolerate the company of those beneath one's station.

That apothecary had become such a necessity.

For several weeks, Lucius had been receiving increasingly curious reports concerning a shop he usually preferred not to think about.

He had a rather strong distaste for the shop's owner. A Mudblood wizard with whom he was more familiar than he would have liked.

That was what happened when said Mudblood married his former fiancée, who had not only insulted him by running away with the man but had also defeated him and everyone he had sent after her in revenge.

After countless attempts to restore his honor, his survival instinct had finally told him to let it go. It had been years since he last thought about her and that Mudblood.

She wasn't anyone who he would ever concern himself with!

Yet his reports now spoke of a new source of unique potion ingredients, never before seen in the Wizarding World. Ordinarily, this would have been nothing to concern him. Newly discovered potion ingredients were hardly anything unusual.

It happened every few years.

Yes, every few years. But this time, they were available in bulk. Not one type, several different ones, with new ones introduced to the Potion Masters every week.

And none of his discreet inquiries had yielded any results.

This, Lucius considered, was an intolerable inconvenience.

Perhaps it was time to set matters straight. It had been years since the war, and people had grown rusty.

He arrived in Knockturn Alley shortly after sunset, wearing a dark travelling cloak and carrying an ordinary walking cane. His silver-blond hair was concealed beneath the hood, and his expression was deliberately unremarkable.

He had Apparated directly into a sparsely used corner of the Alley.

The fewer witnesses, the better.

Lucius had no intention of being seen entering a tavern frequented by petty criminals and disgraced witches. Nor did he particularly wish to be recognized by the shopkeepers whose livelihoods depended upon maintaining the illusion that they knew nothing about their customers.

He slipped through a narrow passageway and entered the establishment known as the Crooked Lantern.

The tavern was almost empty.

Three men sat around a table near the fireplace, their conversation falling abruptly silent when Lucius approached.

They were not particularly impressive specimens of wizarding society.

One had a crooked nose and a permanent squint. Another was missing two fingers. The third, a broad-shouldered fellow named Rookwood, possessed the expression of someone who had spent most of his life being told what to do. He was not to be confused with the more distinguished Rookwood family, being merely a descendant of a distant branch.

Lucius regarded them with faint distaste.

"Good evening."

The three men immediately rose to their feet.

"Mr. Malfoy," Rookwood said. "We weren't expecting you."

"Indeed. That is rather the point."

Lucius removed his gloves and placed them carefully on the table.

"I have a small matter requiring attention. Nothing particularly complicated, provided it is handled by people capable of following instructions."

The crooked-nosed man nodded eagerly.

"Of course, sir."

Lucius looked at him.

"I have not yet explained the instructions or the target."

The man promptly shut his mouth.

The apothecary was still located on Diagon Alley, the main shopping district of Wizarding Britain.

Such an attack wouldn't go unnoticed. There had better be no mistakes. After revealing who they would be targetting, Lucius began to share some details.

"Mr. Davis," he began, "is a gentleman who values his privacy."

The three men listened attentively.

"Unfortunately," Lucius continued, "he appears to have mistaken privacy for immunity from reasonable inquiry."

Rookwood nodded.

"Would you like us to frighten him, sir?"

Lucius's expression remained perfectly composed.

"I would like you to remind him that certain commercial arrangements are best conducted without unnecessary complications. Sometimes, it is better to share with others."

"And if he doesn't listen?"

Lucius adjusted the cuff of his sleeve.

"Then you will make him uncomfortable enough to reconsider his position. And share his sources."

He paused.

"Nothing more. Make sure to erase all traces of your presence."

In other Words Obliviate him.

The men exchanged glances. Not the usually way, how to deal with a Mudblood.

Lucius's eyes narrowed.

"Unfortunately, while he may be a Mudblood, he is still married to a Lestrange who hasn't been removed from the family tree. I have learned that she and her children are away at the moment, but I don't need to remind you what that means, do I?"

"No, sir."

"Excellent."

He handed Rookwood a small pouch containing several Galleons.

"Your down payment. I expect discretion, and I expect results. Don't disappoint me."

Rookwood, the leader of the three men, nodded. He knew exactly what that meant.

After all, they had been members of the same circle over a decade ago.

Although the Dark Lord had disappeared without a trace for years, the lower-ranking Death Eaters still remembered the importance of not disappointing the inner circle.

"Should we do it after the events of the World Cup, while the Ministry is busy dealing with the aftermath?" Rookwood asked, displaying a rare moment of intelligence.

"No, before. His wife will be back for the World Cup. I have it on good authority that the Auror presence in the Alley has been reduced in preparation for the World Cup. Every able hand is needed at the tournament grounds."

Fudge, that fool, had been more than willing to listen after receiving a generous donation.

The three men nodded.

"Don't disappoint me." Lucius repeated firmly.

[-- End of Chapter --]