Extra Chapter 5 - Tiberius (Patreon)

The looming Starfall Hall far above was always out of reach for lowborn, lowlife scum. Even in Umbra’s holiest city, the capital of the Siltar Republic, unless one had money, they would always be scum. This is the lot Tiberius was born into. The child of a prostitute and some unknown noble, he was a sewer-rat from the outset.

But fate smiled upon him. He was in a capital city. And, as per Holy Empire dictate, he was to be provided schooling for basic numbers and letters. This also meant that he was examined. In those schools, every year, a Mage College evaluator would visit and test every student.

If they were found to have a high enough Magic Potency, they would be offered tutelage.

And thus, fate smiled for once in his miserable life. Tiberius was a mage. But not just any mage. An especially powerful, cursed one. Powerful in that he was a universalist – able to accomplish any magical task he put his mind to.

But his curse could not be overlooked. Curses were quite uncommon in Heimfold, and the fact that a cursed mage even existed was concerning for those at The Archrune Spire – the most premiere Mage College in the world.

He immediately left his life of poverty and began his life of learning; understanding all manner of mage craft from his various teachers. Every discipline possible, every element of creation, was at his fingertips.

On one especially sunny, bright day, Tiberius was sitting in one of the study halls, poring over a series of tomes – homework. He sighed and pushed one away, putting his head in his hands as his mind raced with magical formulas and ideas that he was hesitant to test.

“Hey! Tiberius!” A voice shouted from the far end of the study hall. It was his only friend. Malvir, another sewer-rat. A bubbly young man who was always enthusiastic and upbeat.

“Hey,” Tiberius responded with extreme tiredness. He shut the tome he had pushed away and stacked up the books as his friend sat next to him.

Malvir held out a small bag, “Want some?” He shook it as the contents wriggled around inside.

“Yeah, okay, why not.” Tiberius grabbed one of the long, gooey slimes and slurped it down. One of Malvir’s Affinities was life itself. He was able to make it, wholesale, and chose to use it to create various flavored, mindless slime creatures. This one tasted like an apple.

Malvir chuckled and kicked his legs up on the table, his smile never faltering, “I heard that the Artificial Gods are making some big announcement today.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. It’s going to be huge.”

“And where’d you hear it from?”

Malvir put a finger to his lips, “It’s a secret.”

Tiberius shook his head, “Alright then, keep your secrets. I need to finish this expose on…” he flipped through his notes, “…the difficulties behind casting teleportation spells upon one’s self.”

Malvir frowned and put a thumb down, “Boo! That’s boring. Come on, let’s do something fun.”

Tiberius turned to face his friend, “Like what?”

“How about we go to the roof and practice some spells?” The Archrune Spire had many halls dedicated to casting spells and practicing initiates, but the older students who could create larger effects were given keys to the roofs to provide the most space possible to prevent damage.,

Tiberius was flustered, and his face went red with embarrassment, “I…I don’t want itto happen.”

Malvir shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. It’ll just be you and me. I’ll get your back.”

Tiberius sighed and stood up, “Alright! If you say so.”

The two made their way to one of the lifts, the magical elevator ascending and taking them to a locked door. Malvir pulled out a key and let the two out onto the open rooftop. It was quiet, and there were storm clouds in the distance, but sunny in their location. Tiberius closed his eyes and felt the wind wash over him, taking in the sweet scent of the grasslands and the coming storm.

Malvir pulled a small wand from his pocket, casting a spell rapidly as several slimes ‘poofed’ into existence as his neon-green Quintessence flared outwards. “I want to see if you can transmute one of these things into a fiery version of itself.”

Tiberius nodded and retrieved his own spell tool – a tiny wand made of a rat bone – a reminder of where he came from. He raised it and grimaced, anticipating his curse’s effect. “Change your form to my desire, Alter Creature.”

His brackish, brown Quintessence flowed out and wrapped around the slime, turning it into a reddish-color as flames licked off of it. The slime seemingly buzzed happily.

But his curse activated. Tiberius’ whole body locked up and he began to fall. Malvir caught him as the seizure continued.

For a whole minute. Tiberius would never be able to cast magic in an environment that was not safe and secure. A large detriment to any possible career prospects. He would never be able to make a difference on a battlefield, in political intrigue, or even as an adventurer. He would be stuck, in a tower, doing spellcraft for whoever came to visit.

Eventually, the seizure ended and Malvir smiled, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, speak for yourself,” Tiberius replied as he pushed himself up with Malvir’s help.

Both mages froze in place as time slowed around them “What?” Tiberius began to ask.

Their visions were transported across space. Both had looked through divination sensors before, and this was just like that – but their vision was forcibly removed from their bodies as they looked upon the six Artificial Gods in the Conflux of Creation.

They proclaimed that Caelum – the Arch God of Heimfold – was missing. And that The Void continued to encroach upon all of creation. To that end, they needed New Gods to help push the miasmic evil back.

They shattered Caelum’s Aether Throne, and the Aether Shards blasted out throughout Heimfold – seeking out worthy hosts, or being hidden by the Gods in hard-to-reach locations filled with challenges and danger.

The two were returned to their bodies and deeply inhaled as time resumed its regular speed.

Malvir turned to Tiberius with a grin, “That’s crazy! New Gods?”

Tiberius smiled, “Do you think we could find one of them?”

“Yeah! I’m su-” Malvir was cut off as a glimmering, multi-colored light slammed into his torso, blowing him several feet backwards as he fell prone.

“Malvir!” Tiberius ran over and tried to help his friend up, only to look on in horror as Malvir’s body began to morph and shift, turning green and gelatinous.

Malvir’s eyes opened and he squelched in a breath. “What happened?”

Tiberius shook his head, “I don’t know.”

His friend-turned-slime slowly stood up and took a humanoid shape reminiscent of his prior form. “What?!” He looked down as his head extended on a lengthy, gelatinous neck. “I’m a slime!”

It dawned on Tiberius. The glimmer of light flying from the Northwest. From The Holy Empire. From the Conflux of Creation in Saint’s Hold. “You’re a New God,” he whispered.

Malvir’s amorphous body resumed his prior shape and he grinned, “Then let me do my first miracle.” He raised his hand over Tiberius and the cursed mage felt warmth permeate through him. “I’ve lifted your curse.”

Then, he collapsed.

Years passed as Malvir grew his influence. Having control over the Domain of Life itself, he was able to create all manner of fantastic creatures. Tiberius served him faithfully, his first high priest. His exarch. His chosen.

The two built a mighty fortress using Tiberius’ magic and Malvir’s monsters. Deep in the Forbidden Peaks, past the Forbidden Forest in the South of the Siltar Republic. Accepting all the deformed, the cursed, those who were unwanted – Malvir helped them embrace their true selves, fixing all manner of afflictions. Tiberius was next to him the whole time, serving the people who came for help.

And that whole time, Malvir continued to use miracles upon Tiberius. Strengthening his stats. Improving upon his form. Using his mastery of life to completely alter his physiology according to his whims and Tiberius’ wishes.

But eventually, their ideologies began to differ.

Malvir believed in the perfection of life through enhancing existing characteristics, only creating new monsters when he saw a gap needing filling in the natural order of creation.

Tiberius believed that the way to advance was through evolution – survival of the fittest.

At Tiberius’ behest, Malvir created an artifact that could manifest the same miracles as him – the Mimic Cube.

And Tiberius stole away with it. For over three hundred years, he had been on Heimfold, creating new, fantastic, and horrible monsters. Forcing evolution upon creatures. Trying to create the ultimate monster that was unstoppable.

And, after that century, the opportunity finally fell into his lap.

An adventurer, a reincarnated, as if a gift from The Arbiter of Souls himself to further Tiberius’ plans.

He is the perfect specimen.

Tiberius knew he was at the maximum potential that Malvir’s power could bring out. The Mimic Cube could enhance a creature’s existing stats, and Tiberius had used it as much as it would affect him without turning himself monstrous.

But Echo and Fumi…their potential was limitless. If they could feed upon other monsters, they would continue to evolve. If they continued to bed each other, they would continue to evolve.

He had many more monsters to unleash. Ones that had been hibernating and growing in power over decades. He would release them. Allow them to rampage, unchecked, as fuel for his creations.

However, eventually, even his monsters would not be able to sate Fumi and Echo’s hunger. They would not improve further once they ate the strongest monsters he could create. They would go hungry.

No, they would need to feast on something else once they reached that level. He would need to push their Evolution Instinct to the pinnacle of its possibility. Beyond what Malvir could have thought possible.

The time has come.

Tiberius knew he was marching his monsters to their deaths. It was calculated, a plan crafted the second he got his hands on Fumi, and with Echo, the plan only escalated. Death was coming for him. He had set the wheels in motion.

But, when a mage who can tap into any element of creation is given decades to prepare, death is not really an end – more of a nuisance. And, in his case, required.

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