The two old men were currently slumped over, the impact left a slight indent in the adamantium-steel alloy walls.
Despite this, they still rose to their feet with only minor injuries visible, and dusted themselves off with embarrassment.
I guess you shouldn't judge these guys based on appearances, they aren't fragile old men at all.
Lucius Caecus hadn't moved his eyes away from the relic at all during the whole ordeal, as if the wellbeing of the two clergymen was of no significance to him.
After a little more staring, he finally looked up at Eiran and told him.
"Your turn."
Hmm?
"Sir Caecus, if they couldn't do it, how could I?" Eiran asked in confusion.
"Don't sweat the details, just do it, just do it." Caecus insisted anyways.
But there was still another problem.
"Sir Caecus, I… I don't really know the spell that they use."
Learning a spell isn't simply a matter of learning the words, you have to learn the essence too. That's why most people's strongest spells were the ones that they learned in the divine amphitheater. Only after those harrowing tests that push you to your limits and force you to reforge yourself, would rewards unique to the experiences and lessons learned be given.
Take the reconnaissance spell that Eiran had learned, in his test, he had found high ground and planned out a strategic attack to take down a large minotaur creature that the colosseum had conjured. The coliseum saw how well he'd developed his understanding of the concept, and thought it fitting to reward him with this spell.
There were some basic spells that lots of people could learn outside of the arena too, like the fire coating spell that he'd used against the centurion-rank scout, although without a relic, the effect was much weaker.
Without the amphitheater, the soldiers in training would have to spend a lot of time learning the chant, rather than having it imprinted into your mind. This method was very tedious in comparison, they'd have to learn the words of the ancient language which was incredibly foreign to them, the non-euclidean language didn't seem to get easier to learn no matter how much you practice, and it required nothing short of perfection when it came to pronunciation and intonation.
After those hellish lessons where soldiers would spend months just to learn a single phrase of less than twenty words, they would repeatedly need to practice whilst sparring in a heated room, surrounded by fire. After repeating the training, the incantations, and the sparring, they would repeat it again, and again, until they could finally learn the spell.
All that work for such a simple spell, there's no way he'd be able to learn an advanced spell used by an archbishop and cardinal.
"Ah don't worry about it, I suspect that the nature of this relic is one that binds itself to somebody's magical signature, based on your story, since you were the first to use the relic after its previous user was slain, you're its master now. As long as it goes through you it should be all good, the old fogies will still be casting the spell"
He then continued with a smile.
"So either we could kill you and have one of the old fogies activate it, or you can do it yourself. I don't particularly care which. Eh, but the others might, though."
It wouldn't do much good to keep refusing.
With a nod, Eiran place his hands on the relic. Then, he felt two frail hands on his shoulders.
"Proceed boy."
With that instruction, Eiran closed his eyes, focusing his energies into the pit of his stomach.
Then, the two priests began their chant once again:
"By the divine flame which I do bare, I entreat thee — show thyself, O great and smouldering fire! Let mine own flesh be thy vessel, and mine will the kindling of thy holy blaze."
This time, Eiran understood the entire chant.
Unlike last time, the energies of the two priests did not directly head towards the relic, instead, they used Eiran as a conduit.
As soon as the two energies entered his body, Eiran staggered and dropped two his knees. He let out an earth shattering scream, a visceral sound he didn't know he was capable of making.
As they traveled down his arms, the decibels only grew larger. Down on both knees, but still grasping onto the relic like his life depended on it, sweat pouring down his face, the water and nutrients he'd finally replenished were once again leaving his body, burning away at a rapid pace, once again thinning his face out.
After seconds of excruciating pain, the energies had finally reached Eiran's fingertips and made contact with the relic.
As Lucius Caecus stared intently at the interaction through what looked like some kind of googles, as well as a pad that was recording information, the relic floated in the air and began pulsating.
Arcs of flame began pulsating out of the relic.
"Rest of you, get ready." Lucius said.
With that, the generals, Fulvia and Tullius began chanting.
"By mine eternal flame, I vow to forge a bastion of fire, kindled with fervent wrath to repel mine enemies, yet tender in its glow to clasp my comrades in warmth and light."
Lucius also threw an object out of his pocket, a small ball-like object with an orange glow which exploded into an orange-tinted ethereal sphere with hexagonal patterns around the relic.
Next to him, another mechanic, this one much older, bordering on looking ancient, with a long flowing white beard followed suit, throwing a similar object.
A four-layered shield-array formed around the relic, made by possibly the two strongest combatants and two greatest mechanics on the planet.
The relic continued pulsating, as if in decision.
Faster. Louder. The glow at its core deepened from orange to molten white, like the heart of a dying star.
Then, it made its choice.
An explosion.
searing, radiant, divine flames erupted outward in a soundless shockwave, slamming against the walls of the shield. The hexagonal patterns flared, rippling under the sudden strain.
They continued to chant, again and again, reinforcing the shield, making new ones, throwing more devices as the old ones shattered — until the relic finally reached a crescendo.
For a moment, everyone shielded their eyes. The entire war room was drenched in white-gold brilliance. The relic hovered still, suspended in the very center of the shield.
Then — it simply dropped to the table with a metallic clunk, the hum vanishing as abruptly as it had begun.
"...That's it?" Fulvia blinked.
Eiran slumped forward, panting, his arms trembling. The priests beside him looked equally drained, though no worse for wear.
Lucius stepped up, carefully picking up the relic with gloved hands. It no longer pulsed. It had settled into silence, its core still warm—but stable.
Everyone was slumped over, slight sears on their bodies.
Tullius eventually broke the silence.
"So? Do you have an idea of what it is?"
Lucius nodded.
"Yeah, the relic doesn't shut down technology through manipulation of signals or advanced EMP-like pulses. First it explodes, and then arcs of flame disperse like pollen, penetrate the internal structure of machines and start jumping around burning things, like some sort of fire parasite or virus."
Continuing on with his observations.
"Hmm, but it seems like it didn't really reach its full effect." His eyes glimmered with a terrifying light, sending chills down Eiran's body, an evil, perverted grin emerged on his face. "It's time to experiment, kihehehe guheheh." A disgusting cackle escaped his lips, Eiran began fearing for his life…
…
The soft clatter of silver trays echoed in the corridor as two young servants, one carrying a covered meal and the other balancing a jug of water alongside a tray of mysterious metal spheres, approached the sealed laboratory door.
"Why do they always ask for the weirdest stuff?" muttered the shorter of the two, eyeing the faint glow pulsing from the objects on her tray. "What are these glowing balls? Glowstone eggs?"
"Shh. Don't ask questions." The older servant raised a brow. "Last time I asked, I had to clean up after one of Lucius's 'incidentals.' Took days to get the scorch marks out."
They reached the reinforced door. It hissed slightly as it unlocked with a heavy mechanical click. An attendant inside took the trays with an absentminded nod.
The moment the door slid shut behind them—
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The scream that followed was inhuman. A visceral, soul-rending cry that sounded like someone was being boiled alive in molten lava.
The two servants froze.
Eyes wide. Utter silence.
The younger one looked pale. "Wh-what the hell was that?"
The older one stared at the door a moment longer, then turned around with robotic calm.
"Nope. Not my business. Not our business. Just a boy being purified by fire. Normal shit."
They briskly walked away as another long, guttural scream echoed down the corridor.
"PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP! IT'S IN MY VEINS!"
A beat.
"…You think we should've brought dessert?"