Why Did You Summon Me?

More Divine Energy gushed out of Noirciel, fueling the fast-expanding hurricane. At the start, only the area around Noirciel was getting destroyed, but the scope widened fast.

It was too late to the Aegis Mansion, and if the destruction was allowed to continue, the city and its inhabitants would face the same fate that Baiyi’s mansion had.

“Think of something, please! Is there anything useful in your arsenal of theurgical spells?” The Archmage looked at the Cleric Walker, who was rushing over. “I can still keep this barrier going for a while longer, so you still have time.

“If this is not curbed, Arfin City won’t be the only place destroyed,” said the grim-looking Scholar Walker. She had quietly observed everything that had happened thus far. “Once all her energy is out, there will be nothing left to sustain her; then, she will have expired.

“There are no theurgical spells for this! You can’t expect faith to be used on one of our objects of worship!” The Cleric Walker exclaimed in distress. Although he, a man of cloth who once laid down his life for his religion, had long since distanced himself from the Church’s teachings, he could not bear to watch an angel gradually die. Furthermore, the angel was young and gorgeous!

“If that son of a b**tch was here, would he be able to do something about this?” The Bard Walker asked worriedly, squeezing the quill and parchment in his hands. He had intended to compose a piece about an angel’s triumphant return to heaven, but unforeseen circumstances occurred.

“That’s enough! There are so many of us here, and you’re telling me no one can come up with anything decent at all? Use your heads while we still have the time to do so!” The Archmage barked. “Those who know they can’t help should please see to it that the brats are safe.”

“Don’t worry, they’re already in good hands,” the Hitman Walker calmly replied. Aware that he had nothing to contribute, he had taken it upon himself to evacuate the horrified choir.

After the Archmage’s command, the Voidwalkers calmed down and began to plan. They were quite serious now, unlike before. Unfortunately, not all the Voidwalkers, like the Alchemist Walker and the Engineer Walker, had ideas to contribute.

It was the Attie the Kitty Cat Maid — who many considered more brawn and looks than brains — that provided an ingenious idea. “Let’s redirect her Divine Energy to another dimension so that it does not destroy the world.” Without waiting for a reply, Attie unsheathed the War God’s sword

This helped the Archmage come up with an idea. “A normal subdimension might not be able to withstand waves of unfiltered Divine Energy, but if we improve its durability via manual reinforcements… That’s it! Scholar Walker, you’re with me.”

Looking at the Sorcerer Walker, who was still racking his brains even though he knew he was not any good in these kinds of situations, the Archmage asked, He considered the Sorcerer Walker, who was still raking his brain despite long realizing he was no good in these situations, and asked, “Can I trust you to maintain this barrier while I work with Sir Scholar and Attie?”

The Sorcerer took out the Aldhelm that Baiyi gave him a few months before. “Ha, save your doubts. I may not be as talented as you are in spell-flicking, but I have my ways,” said the Sorcerer Walker with a chuckle. Then, he began to chant.

Three Sorcerer Walkers slowly materialized out of nowhere. The main Sorcerer Walker continued to chant as four smaller but similar-looking barriers appeared. This Voidwalker then commanded his clones to merge their barriers into one similar to the Archmage’s.

“Oh ho, you came up with this? And here I was, thinking all you knew how to do was punch things,” the Archmage said, nodding in approval. He was genuinely surprised to see the Sorcerer Walker, someone renowned for his unremarkable skills in magic, find such a clever workaround.

However, performing magic was taxing for the Sorcerer Walker. He was famous because despite being a sorcerer, he preferred punching his way out of sticky situations, instead of using magic as a proper mage would. The Archmage had held the barrier rather easily, but the Sorcerer Walker was struggling to keep it up. With a groan, he said, “Cut the flattery and hurry! I can’t hold this for much longer…”

“Hang on; we’re onto it!” The Archmage nodded and shifted his gaze to Attie.

“Listen very carefully, Attie. You are to stand by while we stabilize our spells. After that, you will rip open the space around Noirciel, to pull her Divine Energy into a separate dimension. After that, the three of us will have to enhance that subdimension so it can last longer against the energy storm,” the Archmage explained. “Make the cut as wide as you can, okay? We need as much room as possible to buffer the storm’s impact before it collides with the subdimension’s borders. Furthermore, you need to be very careful; you don’t want to accidentally send Noirciel to that subdimension. Only her power should be sent into it, okay? Can you do all of that?”

“Uh, um… I’ll try.” Attie replied, suddenly sweating quite profusely. Although she now had enough understanding of the War God’s sword to carry out such a complicated maneuver, she rarely used the sword for anything other than what one would use a regular knife for.

The Archmage was a little worried, but there was nothing he could do. Only Attie could use the War God’s sword, for now, so he had to make do with a shaky “I’ll try” from Attie.

The Archmage and the Scholar Walker began to chant the incantation for different spells. A complex magic formation appeared in front of the Archmage, and a ring of runes appeared around the Scholar Walker. No one would expect, at this time, to see two distinct schools of magic that are considered bitter rivals work together.

White light surged from the formation, and the runes around the Scholar Walker lit up one after the other. The white light was caused by Spatial Magic, which had no elemental affinity. When the spells were ready, the Archmage shouted, “Now, Attie!”

Attie quietly raised the War God’s sword, which exuded three-different-colored light rays. With a skillful swing of the sword, Attie ripped into space a few feet from the center of the hurricane.

Suddenly, everything went still. Only silence filled the destroyed land left behind by the violent hurricane.

A jet-black cube hovered quietly above Noirciel’s body, sealed off by four Rohlserlian formations, and bound tightly by chains made of runes.

“W-we made it?” The Sorcerer Walker stammered as he warily let go of the barrier.

“Yes! It was a spectacular success!” The Archmage smiled, looking at the bright sky above the quiet area. The world around them had brightened, as everything outside the barrier had been destroyed and blown away.

The Archmage grinned at Attie. “That was incredible! Your manipulation of space was so good, the Scholar Walker and I were able to fortify the dimension without straining ourselves. Something even more impressive is you not harming the angel in the process. I had no idea that your control over the Laws of Space had reached the peak of mastery!” The Archmage praised.

He made to ruffle her hair in pride, and as a show of affection.

However, Attie dodged the Archmage’s hand and glared at him. “You can thank me by making sure she studies the knowledge I gave her, instead of fooling around with her time,” Attie replied frostily.

Her attention quickly shifted to the black cube. “This won’t last long. You need to find a real solution quickly, or her days are numbered. Damn it…” She suddenly cursed under her breath. “Why do I even care about someone else’s angel?”

Attie’s knees buckled as her body went limp. The War God’s sword fell out of her hands, and back into its big, black sheath.

The crowd finally heaved a collective sigh of relief. The praise for this feat ought to be directed to her mysterious backer. When everyone was out of ideas and began panicking, the War God had chosen to answer Attie’s unspoken prayer.

“Never did I dream that a god would one day extend her hand of aid to those abandoned in the Void. The theological students are very fortunate to receive a rare lesson on the complexity of gods, Sir Cleric,” The Archmage said.

He clapped his hands together loudly to shake the rest of the crowd from the stupor spurred by witnessing a real god in action. “Alright, everyone. There’s a lot to do from here onwards so we better get going. We promise Hope that we will keep things under control while he’s away, and goddamned it, we’re gonna keep that promise lest he comes back and looks down on all of us!”

He began to coordinate efforts to relieve every issue resulted from this ordeal before convening the Walkers for a post-mortem meeting. It quickly became a demonstration of the ex-emperor’s superb leadership skills; he never lost sight of the big picture nor the little details and had directed everyone available to handle different problems per their skillsets. The Voidwalkers, meanwhile, displayed their professionalism by executing the Archmage’s orders flawlessly.

By evening, almost every loose end had been tied up. Vidomina was dispatched to answer a flood of inquiries from concerned third parties; the demolished Aegis mansion and the decimated street it was located in had been cleared away; the transporter portal to Da Xue, which was also destroyed, had been rebuilt and in operation so that the students who could not offer much help returned to the academy first.

Unfortunately, cleaning up the aftermath was only the beginning of the Voidwalkers’ troubles.

With her arms filled with jars containing many herbs, Nota pushed herself into a small, provisional tent, ignoring the ominous black cube hovering atop it. “These are the herbs us fairies had traditionally used to kill pain and calm agitated minds. Nydore collected them for her,” she said warmly as soon as she entered. “How is she doing?”

She slowly approached a wooden bed where a comatose Noirciel laid. Although the wounds on her body were restored by the most expensive medicines Da Xue could offer, there was still a perpetual expression of pain on the girl’s pale face. At times, Nota could catch the muscles of Noircie’sl cheek jerking as she silently writhed in pain. It was a crestfallen sight.

She was closely watched by Attie and Laeticia, who was half-kneeling by the side of Noirciel’s bed as she muttered silent prayers with her hands folded in front of her breasts. Noticing Nota, she paused and croaked, pleading, “Please tell me our teachers had come up with something…”

Attie sniffed before tearfully saying, “It’s all my stupid fault! I made this happened!”

She blamed her crude way of interacting with Noirciel for the gods’ banishment. Nota disagreed with this, though. “It’s not you, Attie.” Nota cooed. “Lady War God personally came to the rescue through you; you were never a mortal. Nobody would think that you sullied her.”

Nota gently sat on the side of the bed and rubbed Noirciel’s temples with Nydore’s medicines. “Maybe the two of you should take a break,” She suggested kindly.

It was more than mere sympathy for her friends’ growing fatigue; standing directly under the black cube, where Noirciel’s deluge of power was building up pressure, was just too risky. It could blow up without a moment’s notice.

“I’m not leaving her! I don’t think I can ever forgive myself if we lose her…” Attie cried, too sad to think rationally.

“And I’m staying! I made an oath to protect her until my dying breath. She… She acknowledged me. And she did that in such an intimate way…” Laeticia said between tears.

Although her beliefs were conflicted, Laeticia was still a devout believer, through and through.