The Last Blood of Alaric

Chapter 1 — The Boy Called Perditus.

AUTHOR’S POV:

The first punch wasn’t even the one that mattered.

Perditus barely felt it.

Another rough shove hit his shoulder, followed by a chorus of mocking laughter.

“C’mon, dumpster boy. You gonna cry again?”

He didn’t answer.

Something inside him flickered.

A pressure he didn’t understand.

“Say something!” one of the boys snapped, aggressively grabbing the collar of his shirt.

The moment their hand touched him—

The air broke.

A violent kinetic force exploded outwards with a deafening BAM!

The bully was thrown backward, slamming into the hallway lockers so hard the metal dented on impact. Silence instantly swallowed the corridor. Perditus froze, staring at his trembling hands.

“…What…?”

His breathing quickened. He hadn’t moved his hands. He hadn’t done anything at all. So why were his palms beginning to glow? The light was faint at first, then it grew blindingly bright.

“No… no, no, no—”

He ran, broad shoulders grazing the walls, shoving his way past the sea of judging eyes—gazes that haunted his every step until he finally burst into the restroom. His breath hitched, heavy and ragged. His heart hammered violently against his ribs as he slowly raised his hand, which was now glowing brighter than ever before. He stared intently at his palm, completely frozen, trying to process the absolute absurdity of it all.

“What is wrong with me…?”

Then it stopped. Just as suddenly as it came.

By the time he left school, he kept his hands buried in his pockets.

Head down.

Avoiding eyes.

Avoiding whispers.

Avoiding himself.

The walk home felt significantly longer than usual, every step heavier than the last. By the time he reached his house, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, bleeding into dusk. A soft click echoed through the quiet house as he opened the front door.

Then he saw it.

Nana lay on the floor. Blood stained the rug.

His breath caught in his throat.

His hands shook violently as he dropped to his knees, gently holding her up to support her.

“Find your parents…!”

Nana coughed, he strength fading as Perditus gripped her hand tighter.

“What do you mean, Nana? They’re dead…”

His voice shook in terror.

Nana didn’t answer his question. Her fading eyes stayed fixed on him.

“Go to my room… lower cabinet…the spell book… T you’ll find—”

The air behind them shifted. It wasn’t the sound of footsteps, nor a breath. It was a pure, suffocating presence.

A man stepped out of the shadows, followed by several obscured figures. A crystal pendant hanging from his neck caught the dim light of the room. He looked down at Nana as if she were already defeated.

“After all these years…”

The man permitted a faint, cruel smile.

“…I didn’t think you’d survive long enough to disappoint me.”

Nana’s expression changed instantly. It wasn’t fear that crossed her face, but bitter recognition. Her hand snapped upward, and a spell erupted from her fingertips.

The magic didn’t miss. It whistled past Perditus’ head, cutting through the space and slamming into the wall behind the intruders.

BOOM!

Perditus ducked, terrified.

“What—?!”

Nana forced herself upright. She was weakened and shaking, but she stood firmly between him and the invaders.

“Perditus. Go!”

Perditus hesitated, the fear evident in his eyes. He looked down at his hands and clenched them adamantly. “No, I—”

“GO!” Nana commanded, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

Turning on his heel, he sprinted toward her bedroom. Downstairs, Cove tilted his head slightly, as if listening to the structural integrity of the house.

“…Still standing?”

A faint pause, followed by a low, mocking chuckle.

“Impressive.”

In the bedroom, Perditus rummaged through the lower cabinet drawers frantically. His hand brushed against an old picture of Nana and him from years ago. He snatched the photo, holding it tightly against his chest, clinging to it like a lifeline.

BAM!

A shockwave rattled the house. Perditus froze, his body shaking in fear as his fingers finally closed around the spine of a heavy book.

“Nana…?”

He whispered into the dark.

No answer came. Only a heavy, suffocating silence.

Downstairs, the barrier Nana left behind wasn’t retreating. It was actively waiting, holding the line.

“Ugh… that damn witch.”

Cove clicked his tongue, pressing a hand lightly against the invisible barrier.

It didn’t budge.

Instead, the air around it rippled faintly, as if a living will was pushing him away.

Upstairs, Perditus stepped away from the cabinet. His breath quickened as he flipped the pages of the book rapidly.

Nothing. Every single page was completely blank.

“…What?”

His fingers shook against the parchment.

“This doesn’t make sense—!”

Suddenly, the book began to tremble in his hands. It didn’t speak immediately, nor did it reveal its secrets right away. It was simply reacting, as if something deep inside its magic had finally been awakened by his touch.

Then, it rose from his hands. It floated slowly into the air, its pages fluttering as if caught in an invisible wind.

Perditus stumbled back, his eyes wide.

“…What are you—”

The book opened itself fully. The blank pages shifted before a voice manifested from the air. It sounded calm, ancient, and resonant.

Downstairs, the barrier finally shattered. Cove groaned, stepping into the hallway as he looked up the stairs.

“Professor… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He stepped forward, his tone dropping into something dark and malicious.

“…No matter. I’ll handle this myself.”

Dark energy surged violently around Cove. It didn’t explode instantly, but crept outward like a controlled shadow. Pitch-black marks began to spread across his arms—slow, intentional, and perfectly mastered.

From the top of the stairs, Perditus took another step back, fear fully paralyzing him.

“What is he doing…?”

The book’s ancient tone changed instantly, sharpening with distaste.

“…Black magic.” A pause, then its voice turned cold. “…So you chose that path.”

Cove laughed softly from the shadows of the stairwell. “I chose efficiency. Your so-called ‘proper magic’ is just hesitation with rules.”

The book’s pages fluttered sharply. “…And you call yourself a wizard.”

“I eliminated weakness,” Cove smiled, his body twisting slightly as the dark power expanded through his veins. “I became useful.”

Silence stretched across the room. The book turned its hovering spine toward Perditus.

“…Stand still.”

“What?!”

Cove moved—instantly blurring up the stairs.

The book’s voice sharpened, echoing through the room one last time.

“…Sorry, Cove.”

A blinding light erupted from the blank pages. The remaining wards of the house shattered under the pressure. Perditus didn’t even have time to blink before Cove’s reaching hand vanished from view. In a brilliant beam of light, Perditus was gone.

Silence returned to the ruined house. Cove clicked his tongue, shielding his eyes from the fading glare.

“…Tch.”

Slowly, he reached down and picked up his fallen hood, adjusting it until he was entirely calm again. He turned toward his subordinates.

“…Report that the mission failed.”

A long pause followed. Then, his eyes narrowed into slits.

“No. Change that. We’re going to Ceria.”