Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System
Chapter 142: Wielder of Magic

The first to step out was the knight himself, keeping his shield raised as he made a mad dash straight for the Old King.

"I'm right here!" Jasper taunted through a half-fearful yell.

Through the side of the grim, royal chamber, Finn sprinted with Charlotte by his side, watching the knight's provocation be answered.

A stream of azure mana split itself into a burst of javelins that pierced towards Jasper.

THWUNK

—A direct collision with the shield brought the knight back several feet, momentarily breaking his guard.

"Nnh…Woo!" Jasper caught himself, stumbling a bit before sprinting once again.

The bard's singing aided the knight's approach, granting a verdant aura around his body that glistened with the liveliness of a jungle.

From the giant king's staff, a frosty air stretched forth through the ruinous walkway before raining down with rapid icicles.

"Woah there!—" Jasper reacted.

The knight placed the shield above his head as the magical ice shot down from above, shattering into cold fragments.

"I'm feeling great! Cheers, love!" Jasper shouted in gratitude to the bard while moving.

Of course, such open thanks, partially due to the euphoria felt by the knight given a high from the blessing, flustered the bard.

Finn watched the entire time while closing in unseen on the position of the fallen king, "He's got a screw loose, doesn't he?"

"Are you really one to talk?" Charlotte playfully said, keeping up beside him in their sprint.

"Ouch, Charlotte," Finn said before taking a sharp turn.

From the position he was at, he had a clear view of the Old King's right side, between the last of the knelt statues and the throne itself. As a stream of condensed magic slammed against the knight's shield, the assassin and spellblade struck.

Finn led the assault amidst the Old King's focus on the knight, getting close beneath the glow of the azure light as he placed his hand against the giant's abdomen:

["Touch of Rot"]

'Focus it–spread it thin, target the foundation,' he thought.

It took some effort in that single moment, not condensing the contact to the single spot his palm touched, but stretching it across the physique of the Old King himself. Past the hole decayed through the robe, the melting touch caused the skin of the mage to crack and peel all over.

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At the same moment, the ray of azure ended as the silver-eyed king set his sights on the assassin, reaching for him–SLASH.

The spellblade came in like a ray of light, forcing the Old King to raise his arm to defend himself just as the flaming blade left a gash on his forearm. Finn held his position, though the figure leapt back, waving his staff in retaliation.

As the hood fell, the face of the Old King was not that of an elder, but a youthful man.

In that moment, the wordless king of ruins brought the throne room to tremble as the dim chamber was illuminated by an uprising of mana. Through the sheer quantity of magic felt in the air, it felt like a boundless sea, yet all wielded by that single man.

Jasper shouted, "He's readying something, mates!--"

Before whatever magic could be woven, Finn intended not to let it be cast as he sprinted towards the steps leading to the throne with the spellblade by his side. Just as his foot befell the first step, the coalescence of magical light expanded and transformed itself–

In that moment, Finn swore he saw it; the lips of the Old King parted, hearing a voice that was pained by guilt and sorrow speak:

"Let me show you the beauty taken away by the thunder."

From the king's proclamation, all sight was consumed by light in that moment. From the stale, thin air, what was breathed into his lungs was bountiful and fresh.

As the blinding radiance faded, he blinked a few times before replaceing himself not standing in the grim throne room, but in a luscious garden.

'What is this? The others?--' Finn questioned, looking around.

He found himself looking upon a peculiar instance in time. Both humans and giants walked along the vast stretch of flowers and trees; no fear or animosity between one another.

It was some act of magic, he reasoned that much, though he was surprised by its clarity; it all felt real, though as he brushed his hand against a flower, it went right through it. He viewed the thriving scenery as nothing more than a ghost.

"This is what I used to rule. Where my kin thrived, peacefully, without troubling others."

The softly spoken voice brought him to turn his head, replaceing himself looking towards a towering apple tree where a giant, youthful man in pale robes held one such, scarlet fruit.

"You're the…" Finn said.

It seemed that the Old King was the only person he could interact with within the materialized memory, as the others that leisurely strolled the utopian fields of flowers simply walked right by.

"I am the King of Giants, Zigmund," the regal figure gently gave his true name. "Though, I rule over nothing but an eroded temple now."

"Why'd you bring me here? Where are the others?" Finn asked.

The youthful giant seemed to have no regard for his haste, moving at his own pace as he caressed the fruit-bearing tree as if reminiscing upon fonder times.

"Everybody else is experiencing the same. You're speaking to one part of my consciousness, currently," King Zigmund answered, plucking another apple from the tree before approaching.

Finn was left speechless, perplexed as to what to do as he watched the giant king approach. There was no animosity from the figure that he was fighting tooth-and-nail against just moments prior, even so much as being presented an apple as a gift by the royal figure.

"This is a recreation of Spartia. The homeland of my people, and welcome to mankind. Now it is nothing more than a memory to us," King Zigmund said, placing the large apple on the assassin's hand. "Here. Try it."

"I'm not interested–" Finn rejected.

"I insist," King Zigmund said, looking down at the much smaller assassin with his silver irises.

Even if he was wary, he accepted the apple, seeing as his best choice for the moment was to play along. Hesitantly, he took a bite out of the fruit that was twice the size of what it should normally be. A look was given to the King of Giants as if asking "Happy?"

"The version of me outside of this memory–the one you're fighting–is nothing more than a golem. All the "Old King" does now is attack anybody who enters the throne room," King Zigmund explained.

"Then why did he use that spell–? To bring us here, I mean?" Finn asked.

"He didn't intend to use it. My soul is placed within that staff, you see," King Zigmund explained, leading the man on a stroll through the harden. "My hollow self intended to kill you with that spell, but I intercepted and changed it."

Finn followed beside the perplexing king, walking on a stone-paved path between fields of colorful, blooming flowers amidst a tranquil spring.

"Why'd you do that?" Finn asked. "We did trespass. We came for the treasure in your temple."

"I'm somebody that prefers to avoid violence. I want to gauge what kind of people you are. Perhaps if you came just a decade earlier, it'd be different. After my kingdom fell, I was consumed by rage–I locked myself away and studied magic for centuries on end," King Zigmund recalled, bringing his large hand gently against a cerulean flower.

"The Storm King did it, didn't he?" Finn asked. "We're going after him–we have the same goal, don't we? Help us–"

Amidst his questioning, he found the benevolent king stopping their stroll through the garden of memories as the figure stood in front of him, holding a pale flower.

"Like I said, perhaps a decade earlier, it'd be different. I cultivated my magic for centuries, all for the express purpose of not just avenging my people and killing Sirius, but humanity itself," King Zigmund admitted. "But, I overcame it. None of it would bring back what was lost, I would only lose what little I have left."

"What do you have left? There's not a single person left in your kingdom, Zigmund," Finn asked.

"Their memories," King Zigmund answered.

It was that same answer again; the very same sentiment he found from the Storm King himself. A shared feeling that he did not believe was a wise idea to speak of to the King of Giants, instead listening.

"As their king, it was my duty to protect them in life–I failed. However, in their death, I will safeguard their memories. Each of their names, their aspirations, the lives they led–until this world crumbles, that's my one purpose," King Zigmund explained.

"Then why did you bring me here? If you don't want to help, what do you want, then?" Finn asked.

From a gentle smile, the towering, yet young king's expression transitioned into a grim look.

"Besides the preservation of my kingdom's memory, I have one other goal. One ordained by a higher power, entrusted to me," King Zigmund told him. "—To safeguard the Fruit of The Gods."

Before Finn could get a word out, he froze as the staff in the king's hand slammed against the ground. It echoed, ringing against his ears as the beautiful garden faded away.

"Show me what you feel when everything you care for is taken away."