Inexorable Chaos - Chapter 273: 145 Gaw: Cronos

The first generation [Mages] were arguably the greatest of their kind.They were the pioneers of the esoteric arts- experimenting, manipulating, and learning the ways of mana manipulation without any guidance. They were the giants on whose shoulders later generations would stand to see the farthest horizons.

Eventually, every generation of [Mages] added to the repertoire of understanding, emboldening knowledge further and further until magic that could destroy nations were invented. Once that happened, systems of organization started to be placed on the knowledge to protect not only others, but the [Mages] as well. It is said that prior to the changes, [Archmages] were not a rarity. They were the minimum class for professors to teach the younger, lower-leveled [mages]. Of which there were many. With the new system, only a tenth of [Mages] would die or be maimed instead of half.

The changes implemented are simple: A ranking system for classes and spells. Easy, simpler classes and spells were ranked higher, with rarer and more difficult ones ranked lower. The highest skills are those that utilize the common elements. [Fire], [Water], [Earth], and [Wind] were considered the easiest and most simple. [Mages] who chose to study under any of these four archetypes gained levels quickly with little to no deaths. As you go away from these simpler studies, then difficulty and deaths increase while leveling slows. Archetypes like [Lightning], [Ice], [Magma], [Plant], [Light] and [Metal] are in this category, with [Lightning] being notable for ending the aspiring [Mages] life far more than the others.

Over time, [Mages] chose the safer option with the easiest leveling and least risk, leaving the more advanced magics to the risky few that would learn of them. Eventually, practitioners of the most advanced magics ceased to exist, with the only mention of them in old history books and in the few age-old spell books that have not yet been lost to time.

Such lost knowledge is a problem, especially when the incarnation of the old magic comes back with a vengeance.

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Artyom leans down and wraps his arms around a boulder as large and thick as a carriage. Muscles bulging, he lifts the thing without even a grunt, aims, and then throws it at the monstrosity.

The boulder flies at the gray, humanoid skyscraper, and then decays instantly into dust that showers over the thing’s spectral body.

Streams of tens of thousands of arrows rain from the sky, peppering the monstrosity with dust and iron arrowheads that ineffectively bounce off its body.

A [Siege Fireball] travels the air and snuffs out before it can get close.

A scantily clad woman, an elder Amazon, roars in challenge. She lifts a battleax as large as she is and jumps towards the thing. The woman rockets through the air, aiming to cleave the glowing stone in the monster’s chest.

As the woman closes in, Artyom watches her hair grow long and white, extending meters from her head while her weapon loses its enchanted sheen, its grip turns to dust. Right before she contacts the monster, the life in her eyes ceases, her body shrivels up and turns to dust.

The monster feels nothing, merely takes a step forward and the earth dies at its feet. Plants sprout and grow and wither and decay. Rock weathers to sand,rust, and iron.

Artyom grimaces as he [Analyzes] the thing again.

Cronos, True Elemental of Time- Level 1721

“Artyom!” Jokull strides up next to him, “this thing destroys anything that gets near it. I don’t suppose your domain can find a weakness?”

Artyom shakes his head, “I’ve tried, but that thing- It’s feeding me information that is both future and past. It’s hard to explain, but it feels like it doesn’t exist.”

“Damn,” he growls, “I’ve fought elementals before, but this thing is completely different from them both in level and ability.”

“Of course it is. That is the strongest Titan and the original elemental of time.”

They both turn around as Tartura strides forward, battleaxes in hand.

Jokull raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be making sure nobody touches the archangels? I’d expect the Aesir to attack while we are distracted.”

The Grand Elder rolls the battleaxes between her fingers as though they weighed no more than a pen. “The Aesir army is busy dealing with an army of demons. It is actually the Titan which is distracting us, otherwise we’d be attacked by far more than it alone.”

“What exactly do you mean by original?” Artyom asks, ignoring the part about Demons.

Tartura stops twirling her battleaxes. “It means what it means. Cronos is the original elemental of time. He is the first and strongest of his kind, created when humans first opened to the elemental plane.”

“You know quite a bit,” says a voice next to Tartura.

The Amazon reacts in a blur, so fast that, if not for Artyom’s domain, he’d never have known she was moving. Her battleaxe lands without a peep, stopping dead silently between Zeek’s fingers. The old man grins at Tartura, who does not at all look amused.

“You should not be able to sneak up on me like that.” She growls while pulling her ax from his grip.

“Girly, you’ve still got a bit of growing to do before you can sense me.” Zeek taunts. He eyes Cronos, “Now, what can you tell me about that thing?”

Suppressing her anger, Tartura begins to explain.

“Mind you, what I know is from old grimoires, so take that as you will. A long time ago, humans found a dimension of elemental energy existed between the mortal and demon realms, but tapping this energy was impossible because of the barrier at the edge of our world. Humans, in their lust for power, did a ritual that shattered the barrier, which created a hole that allowed these elemental energies to flood our world and allowed humans to call elementals into existence. The six shattered pieces of the barrier were drenched in the onslaught of elemental energy and became the Titans, the first and strongest of the elementals to ever exist. It took the combined might of all the world’s powers to destroy them.”

Zeek strokes his long goatee in thought. “So how do we destroy them again?” he asks.

“The same way you destroy any elemental. Destroy the core.”

“I believe he meant this specific one,” Jokull points at Cronos, “We’ve no way to get anywhere close and everything we throw at it either turns to rust or dust.”

“The grimoires never explained how they were destroyed, only that they were.”

Jokull sighs, “Then we’re back to square one. Does anyone have any ideas?”

Zeek folds his hands behind his back in thought, “I would think the Amazons should be immune to time magic.”

“Resistant,” Tartura corrects, “magic that touches our skin is reduced to the point that we don’t even feel it. Time magic, specifically from Cronos, is strong enough to overpower us.”

“Artyom, what do you think?” Jokull asks.

Artyom, deep in thought as his domain expands around the battlefield, focusing on what happens when Cronos magic touches objects.

What he notices is that everything turns to iron. Even the dust from failed attacks eventually turns to iron.

What he notices is that almost everything turns to dust or sand… except for iron.

“I may have an idea, but I’ll need some help. Follow.”

Without explaining further, Artyom rushes around Cronos.

Sharing a glance, the three follow the [Hero] as he circles Cronos and arrives behind the Elemental. Their boots land on iron slabs of hundreds of thousands of Arrowheads fused together.

“What’s your plan?” Jokull asks as Artyom stops.

Artyom stares at the ground.

“The elemental seems to struggle with iron. If we build a weapon out of it, then we can get to the core.

Tartura rolls her eyes as her curiosity quickly dies down. “Iron is not strong enough to damage the elemental core, and any enchantment or skill will be erased before it hits.”

Zeek chuckles with a glint in his eyes as he understands what Artyom is uniquely capable of doing.

Taking a deep breath, Artyoms slams his arms into the metal ground. With a growl, his muscles bulge as he lifts. The ground quakes as several dozen tons of pure iron arrowheads are lifted out of the ground. So much iron that Tartura’s mouth is left agape.

She knows of heroes from books and tomes, but she’d always thought the stories regarding them were overblown.

With another grunt, he places the slab to the side where it can be seen in all its glory.

“Tartura, use your axes to turn this slab of metal into a Javelin. Make it as large as possible.”

Tartura grins as understanding now dawns on her. Spinning her axes, she starts slicing chunks of iron off the massive slab like a carver would with a saw.

Which, considering her own axes, doesn’t take long. Her blades slice into the iron like butter, severing chunks and molding the metal in a thick, long, and, to Artyom’s surprise, a fully aerodynamic javelin with grooves that would give it a spin when thrown.

“Will this be enough?” she asks as she finishes.

Slender, thick, long, and heavy enough that no normal mortal could have any hope of lifting it, the weapon shines brightly in its pure iron construction.

Cracking his neck left and right, Artyom leans down and lifts the gigantic Javelin.

During the time since they had prepared the weapon, Cronos had traveled a considerable distance already. No doubt a significant number of forces have perished during the time.

“Can you hit it?” Jokull asks.

“I have a skill,” Artyom says. He takes a stance and then takes aim. He can see the elemental core floating in the Titans chest.

With muscles bulging, Artyom takes a breath, reels his arm back, and – “[Strength Surge], [Arms of Adamant], [Overwhelming Might].”

He takes aim.

“[Skybreaker Throw].”

The air thrums as Artyom throws the monstrosity of a Javelin at the Titan.

Zeek watches, eyes locked on the Javelin.

The Titan doesn’t react, overly confident in its ability to withstand any and all attacks.

The Javelin enters the Titan’s range of power. The titans magic takes hold of the spear and attempts to age it out of danger. But there is nothing that can be aged further. The atoms have aged into the most stable element possible.

The Javelin reaches the core, touches it, and then begins to destroy and enter that which continues the titans existence.

The titan reacts quickly to its core getting damaged. The magic of time changes instantly and time slows to a crawl. The movement of the Javelin ceases.

Then, while all is stopped, its damaged core slowly moves out of the way. Then time resumes and the Javelin continues through its body.

Though it survived, the damage has been done. The core leaks… and the restrictions placed upon the titan have been severed.

“Almost,” Jokull says, “but I think you’ve given it a mortal wound. The core looks like it’s leaking.

The Titan turns around, its body moving faster than before, as though time had sped up its movements.

It seems to focus dangerously on Artyom. It seems to know who caused its wound.

The core glows and a shiver runs down Artyom’s spine as [Danger sense] goes off on everyone within the battlefield.

Mana diverges around and above erratically. Shifting and moving as reality seems to bend.

Then, all at once, thousands of portals open within the area. From those portals, Time Elementals stream out in hundreds, a veritable army of smaller versions of these titans.

The Titan, though its brethren invade the mortal world, its focus stays on Artyom. It’s body shivers as it continues to bleed. It steps forward and time accelerates, turning that step into several.

“Shit,” Zeek curses. “Artyom, it’s after you. You need to run away until it does.

“Where should I run?” he asks as it takes another accelerated step, moving far faster than ever possible.

“Go to Camelot. Lead it there. The city may have a way to deal with this thing better than an iron Javelin.”

“But, I’ll be putting them in dan-”

“Go. if this thing somehow heals its wound, then these portals will be the least of our problems.”

At Zeeks words, one of the portals opens wider and an [Elder Time Elemental] steps through.

“Go! Artyom. Time is of the essence.”

Nodding to Zeeks words, “Artyom turns and starts sprinting and hopping in the direction of Camelot.

The titan follows closely behind while its core continues to leak its essence.