Gunmage
Chapter 101: Veils of lightning

Chapter 101: Chapter 101: Veils of lightning

"Where do you think you’re going?"

The voice echoed with a grim finality, bouncing off the cold stone walls of the alleyway like a phantom bell toll.

Lugh’s path was blocked, not by any ordinary soldier, but a member of the royal guard. A man draped in white uniform, and lacquered black boots of Pyrellis’s elite.

But this wasn’t Lugh’s true body—it was one of his puppets, a husk of a man whose soul had long been snuffed out and absorbed into the vast sea of spirits Lugh carried within him.

The real Lugh had already slipped away from this area, far from danger. This confrontation was a test, and a decoy.

The puppet lifted its head, eyes dull yet moved by an intelligence not its own. Lugh peered through it, his real consciousness threading through in a way no puppeteer could ever hope to achieve.

The royal guard’s presence loomed before him, confident and unreadable. This puppet didn’t possess any special abilities like his real body did, which meant the illusions cast upon the guard worked flawlessly.

No matter how hard the puppet stared, it couldn’t see his face.

But Lugh remembered. He had seen the truth mere moments before, through the eye that peered beyond all deception, the Mawglass.

This opponent was an elf.

For a rarely seen legendary race the elves were making far too many appearances lately. He supposed it made sense—Ophris had been colonized by their kind millennia ago.

Though they claimed to have withdrawn, the remnants of their influence never fully faded.

Many must’ve still lived among humans, veiled and anonymous. But this one wasn’t just any elf, he was part of the royal guard.

That changed everything.

This revelation had massive political implications.

Elves among the royal protectors meant secrets layered beneath secrets. And Lugh? He and Lyra had no patience for such things anymore.

They were survivors of the Devil Sea and the forsaken Dark Island at its heart. They no longer revered elves like most of the populace did.

To normal people, elves were divine. Mysterious. Otherworldly. They worshipped them, or at least walked in awe-struck reverence.

It was a toxic remnant from an era long gone, still infecting culture with its poison.

He could only see them for what they truly were. Flawed, powerful, and most of the time, dangerous.

He advanced.

His feet rose and pushed forward with eerie grace while the royal guard remained motionless, his hands glowing with crackling violet energy. An unspoken challenge.

Perfect.

Lugh needed to test how well a human puppet with mana circuits could handle high-level combat spells. He didn’t expect victory, only information. Win or lose, he would learn something vital.

The puppet stepped again—and vanished.

Not camouflage. Invisibility. A high-level spell he had learned from the memories of the late Emrys. A spell that bent light and even sound, removing the caster entirely from sight.

The guard’s eyes narrowed, his senses flaring out into the world like an expanding net. But, nothing. He couldn’t find Lugh.

A blade sliced through the rain with blistering speed, cutting across the guard’s ribs with precision. Fabric parted, and blood followed, darkening his side.

The cut wasn’t deep. The guard staggered back, surprised.

Lugh immediately recorded the outcome. The circuits in the puppet’s body trembled under the strain of advanced magic.

It couldn’t take much more, its foundation was too weak for this level of sorcery.

But that didn’t mean he was done.

Emrys had possessed a wealth of high-tier spells. The problem was that most of them required immense mana and durable vessels.

Even Lugh’s original body would struggle to cast them. Still, he had to try.

Three glowing magic circles spun into being around him, scribing arcane runes in a language not spoken in centuries.

Lightning snarled in their cores, hissing and crackling like living serpents. Raindrops fell, catching the sparks mid-flight, forming chains of electricity.

The magic circles fired.

Snakes of lightning exploded outward. The rain turned to steam as the spell seared through the entire area.

The air howled, and then came the sound, an erratic crackle sparked from the point of contact, a sharp series of ticks and sudden snaps, each one a miniature explosion.

The guard screamed, his body arching violently as the intense voltage surged through him. His limbs convulsed, uniform cracking and burning at the edges.

Then there was silence.

The body collapsed.

Lugh stepped forward slowly, almost in disbelief.

"That’s it?"

He muttered.

He hadn’t expected such a swift end.

The elf was unconscious. The veil of illusion that had cloaked his face evaporated with the loss of mana, revealing a handsome, serene visage.

Short silver hair, exquisitely styled, framed sharp cheekbones and a soft mouth. His eyes remained closed, but Lugh had an inkling that they would be violet.

But before he could think further—

"Are you human?"

The voice shimmered through the dark like moonlight through fog. Calm and ethereal, yet unmistakably real.

Lugh turned, tracking the sound instinctively.

There, perched upon the edge of a broken fountain like a crow on a gravestone, sat a woman in a gothic gown dyed a black so deep it seemed to swallow the light around her.

Her face was hidden behind a thick, ornate veil, not magical, just... traditional. The lace glinted under the faint moonlight. Her posture was regal, as if mourning something long lost.

The only splash of color on her was her silver hair, falling down her back like a sea of moonlight.

Lugh’s eyes shifted back to the unconscious guard.

A coincidence? No. There was a deeper connection here, he could feel it.

"Only people with something to hide wear veils"

He said flatly.

She laughed. Her voice was like music.

"You’re right"

She replied.

"But I daresay I’m not the only one hiding something"

Lugh exhaled slowly.

Observe the humans

She had said.

They were all riddled with secrets, layered deeper than the ruins he had once explored at the heart of an eldritch beast.

Humans thrived hiding their sins. Every alley, every home, every smiling face seemed to mask something darker.

The veils were just the surface of a culture built on deception.

"Why are you here?"

He asked, his voice steady.

"Oh, me?"

She responded, sounding almost genuinely surprised.

"I’m here to kill you."

Lugh blinked.

"...Why?"

"Because you are a threat"

She replied sweetly.

A beat passed. Then, the air rippled.

Six magic circles ignited around him with a sudden snap, the puppet body instantly trembling under the weight of power.

Mana circuits worked in overdrive. Lugh pushed harder, even as red cracks raced along the puppet’s skin.

And then came the lightning.