Arcane Academy: The Divine Extraction Legacy Chapter 1186: The Blessing
Previously on Arcane Academy: The Divine Extraction Legacy...
Ensuring the Sin of Lust could not flee by sealing the entire city was a daunting task.
The risk of detection was high; if Lust noticed the trap, they might abandon the city immediately. Caution was paramount. The three dragons remained silent for a time, weighing the dangers of their proposed strategy.
Ash finally broke the silence. "A swift seal might work... but if we aren't fast enough, it will slip through our fingers before we can pin it down."
Drazek folded his arms across his chest. "There is no rush. We can proceed gradually, piece by piece. By shutting the exits and severing the channels, we can tighten the net slowly. Lust won't realize the cage is closed until it's too late."
Zerel gave a sharp smirk. "Fine. But the moment it reveals itself, I'm going all out. Vale told us to be careful, but I refuse to let this Sin mock us."
They settled on this approach, knowing their true power was best suited for direct confrontation. Regrettably, the Sin of Lust preferred more deceptive tactics. It would have been far simpler if they were hunting the Sin of Pride or the Sin of Wrath.
The following day, Ash initiated her portion of the mission. Donning the guise of a traveling scholar, she returned to the local temples.
As she conversed with the priests, she surreptitiously funneled her nature energy into the earth beneath the city. Throughout Harake, roots and vines began to thicken, quietly obstructing paths and barricading secret tunnels.
Meanwhile, Drazek haunted the alleyways under the cover of night.
He allowed his shadow aura to bleed into the stone walls, neutralizing the escape routes used by Lust's cultists. He avoided direct kills, but ensured that anyone attempting to sneak out of the city became hopelessly lost in a labyrinth of absolute darkness.
Zerel chose the most conspicuous path. Disguised as a human, he moved through the noble quarters, attending lavish banquets. With every step he took, sparks of lightning would shed from his hair, weaving a hidden mystical barrier designed to intercept or block anyone tainted by the Sin.
Naturally, this ward only reacted to those carrying the mark of Lust.
To the aristocracy, the city appeared unchanged. To the dragons, however, every day brought another bolt to the door of the cage.
A week passed, and the perimeter was nearly complete. Lust finally sensed the interference as it began to lose control over various pawns.
One evening, the draconic trio met once more in the courtyard. Drazek looked visibly energized.
Tracking Lust was notoriously difficult because the Sin acted like a parasite, jumping between the souls of those it had corrupted. Even if the dragons cornered a host, the Sin could simply migrate to a new victim, making a direct chase futile.
Finally, however, they detected movement.
"The Sin is growing agitated. I believe a major move is coming," Drazek noted with a grin. This was a positive sign. The Sin had clearly realized that its pawns were no longer able to leave the city limits.
If Lust intended to escape now, it would have to manifest its true form, which would immediately reveal its location. Once that happened, the dragons would not miss their chance to strike.
Up until now, it had evaded detection by hiding within the bodies of others, jumping from one victim to the next. But with the barriers in place, these infected pawns were trapped. Sooner or later, Lust would be forced to use raw power to break out.
"Lust must be panicking by now," Ash whispered.
Zerel, who was growing impatient for a fight, felt a surge of hope that they might soon return to the Shadow Domain. "Let's turn up the heat. If she wants to hide behind her disciples, we'll burn them all away until she has nowhere left to crawl."
Ash shook her head in disagreement. "We cannot. As immortals, slaughtering mortal followers would burden us with terrible karma."
Unfortunately, they couldn't recruit local Arcanists either; such people would easily fall under Lust's sway and merely serve as fresh fuel for its power.
"Wait... what if we grant a blessing to a specific Arcanist? We wouldn't have to engage Lust's apostles directly," Ash suggested.
The idea left Zerel and Drazek momentarily speechless. It was a concept they had never even considered.
Being dragons, their instinct was always to act alone and rely on overwhelming strength. The idea of using a proxy or a disciple was entirely foreign to them. They were creatures of brute force, not intricate schemes.
"So... we find a suitable candidate and use them to eliminate the pawns?"
"Exactly. Since we aren't the ones doing the killing, the karma won't touch us."
***
Desmund was a native of Harake City, born to a healer and a craftsman.
His childhood was spent in the western district, amidst the perpetual din of taverns and trade. He possessed sharp, handsome features and a steady gaze, yet his path had been a difficult one.
When he was seventeen, a devastating plague tore through his neighborhood. His mother, despite her skills in healing, succumbed to the illness first. His father passed shortly after. Within a month, Desmund was an orphan.
He scraped by on odd jobs—hauling crates, scrubbing floors, and guarding caravans—but the void left by his family remained. By now, his unkempt hair and tattered clothes made him look like just another face in the gutter.
By the time he turned twenty, Harake had begun to rot from within. Strange occurrences became common, and the people he grew up with seemed to change. Their eyes became vacant, and their joy felt forced and hollow.
He didn't recognize it as the creeping influence of Lust at the time.
One evening, while returning from a shift at the docks, Desmund was intercepted by three strangers. He had been thinking about using the craft skills his father taught him to find better work.
"Hmm?" Desmund paused, eyeing the trio. He wondered if he was about to be mugged, but since his pockets were empty, he felt little fear.
As they drew near, he saw they appeared relatively normal: a scholar in fine robes, a figure hidden in a cloak, and a golden-haired noble. Yet, the air around them felt heavy with an unnatural pressure.
"You," the scholar spoke softly. "You have endured much loss, yet the light in your soul remains untainted. You are the ideal candidate."
Desmund's brow furrowed. "What do you want with me?"
The cloaked figure stepped forward. "We require an agent. Someone who can move through the crowds without drawing eyes. Someone to combat the rot taking hold of this city."
'Rot in the city?' Desmund thought. He had seen the changes, but he didn't see how he could help. "Fight? I'm no soldier. You've got the wrong man."
Even if he had the ambition to become an Arcanist, he lacked the fortune required to buy a Philosopher's Elixir and forge an Arcanist Body.
The noble-looking traveler gave a small smile. "You won't need to be—not if you accept our terms."
'Is this some kind of con?' Desmund wondered. However, with nothing left to lose, he figured there was no harm in listening.
They laid out his mission: he was to hunt down those manipulated by the Sin of Lust, an Evil Entity responsible for the "disease" plaguing the streets. 'So an Evil Entity did this... I knew something was wrong,' he realized.
They explained that they would bestow their blessings upon him so he could eliminate the infected.
"Can't they be cured?" Desmund asked. If they were merely sick, execution felt like a step too far. He wanted to save them, not kill them.
The three strangers conferred briefly before nodding in agreement.
His task would be to purify their spirits. If the corruption was minor, the person would be liberated and survive. But if the rot had reached their core, the purification would consume them, leading to death.
Desmund wavered. "So... I might still end up killing them. But I suppose that's fair." He was surprised at how quickly he was accepting this. He wasn't even sure if these three actually had the power they claimed.
The scholar nodded. "It is a mercy compared to what awaits them otherwise. Without this, they will be entirely devoured."
Desmund looked at the ground. He had no desire for violence, but he couldn't stand by while his city fell apart. After a long pause, he gave his word.
True to their promise, the strangers reached out. As their hands touched him, a torrent of energy flooded his veins. His blood felt like liquid fire, his senses sharpened to a razor's edge, and his Spirit Strands roared to life!
"This..."