One hour before the trigger was pulled.
It was already night. Today the second moon, Unl, illuminated the land. Only a few clouds drifted across the sky, and one of them briefly crossed the light that bathed a small hill near the capital city. When it passed, the moonlight once again revealed the hill. Now, standing upon it, was a lone figure holding a weapon, aimed away from the capital.
With a look of surprise and confusion, he lowered his weapon and began scanning his surroundings.
“It’s night. It’s another place. And there’s no one here. What happened?” ran through his mind at that moment.
He turned around and saw the great city before him. Buildings he had never seen in his life rose like clustered fortresses, as high as a mountain ridge. For several seconds he simply stood there, contemplating the unfamiliar landscape. However, something caught his attention. Everything was dark. Those enormous buildings had no lit windows. The streets were not illuminated by a single lamp. There was no one walking through them.
Faced with the situation, Ash, the individual who had appeared out of nowhere, raised his guard, ready for anything. His posture did not remain tense for long. A small light could be seen in the sky, apparently moving.
Without thinking much about it, Ash murmured:
— Aha! An attack.
Moments later, the projectile explodes upon reaching its target.
A pair of advanced electronic binoculars focus on the scene that has just unfolded. When they are lowered, their user is revealed to be Agnar, standing within a small fortification positioned at the entrance of the city. Agnar, without taking his eyes off the area, receives a report from a subordinate:
— Impact, Commander —and Agnar asks—: Confirmed kill?
— Not yet, sir. There’s too much smoke, and the heat is still too high to confirm —said the subordinate.
However, Agnar would receive his answer automatically. From the cloud of smoke created by the explosion, a small pointed distortion begins to emerge. Adjusting his vision slightly, Agnar makes out a human silhouette in the sky, emitting yellow flashes. He raises the binoculars and, through them, sees Ash flying toward them, fire bursting from his palms and feet, seemingly allowing him to fly and propelling him at considerable speed.
Agnar lowers the binoculars, this time quickly. What follows is a powerful shout:
— The enemy is heading straight for us, prepare the weapons!
Next, three heavy vehicles ready, aim, and fire their rotary cannons at Ash. Three torrents of bullets streak across the sky like an orange rainbow.
In response, Ash, flying toward his opponents, drops several meters before the bullets can reach him and veers to the right. With a strong burst of fire, he resumes his flight calmly toward his targets, this time flying closer to the ground.
Trying again, Agnar orders a wall of bullets. The weapons fire once more, sweeping their barrels to cover a wider area so that Ash cannot evade it. But now close to the ground, Ash drops again, chest to the earth, and as the wave of bullets passes overhead, he pulls out his shotgun and settles it firmly into his right hand.
As the barrage clears, he rises quickly, kneeling and aiming his shotgun at his enemies. He unleashes an enormous curtain of fire that spans dozens of meters. It is so vast that one might easily believe a gasoline truck has exploded, yet it does not reach them, as he remains roughly a hundred meters away. Even though it obstructs their view of the target, Agnar does not cease fire and orders another round of shots.
When the cloud of fire dissipates, the observers, their instruments, and Agnar find nothing.
Within their small forward position, all the soldiers brace for the worst. Pul, standing beside Agnar with binoculars in hand, asks:
— Could he have escaped, sir?
— I have no idea, but do not lower your guard. We already know what we’re dealing with. He’s a fairly powerful fire mage. That curtain he created is not something just anyone can manage, especially if he’s using it merely as a distraction. However, I don’t believe he’s a true problem.
— Oh no…
— What?
— Commander, don’t you remember that whenever you take something for granted, or underestimate someone, the situation gets much worse?
— Ahh… do I?
— Yes.
In the middle of the fortification where they stood, Ash drops down, drawing everyone’s attention. The soldiers ready their weapons and aim at him.
One of them shouts:
— We have him in our sights, sir!
Without hesitation, Agnar gives the order:
— Fire!
Ash’s body seems to emit small electric arcs, and the bullets ricochet off him as if a spherical force field surrounds him. Agnar sees this and says:
— A magnetic field…
Ash replies:
— That’s right. By the way, what was that first attack you launched at me? It wasn’t magic, and it was quite powerful. Not to mention the number of bullets you fired at me, and the fact that you were waiting for me. So answer me: what’s going on here?
He says it in fluent Mongolian.
— Yeah… no.
Agnar makes a signal with his right hand to Pul, who immediately charges at Ash with a fierce right punch, marking the first physical strike of the confrontation. Ash stops it with one hand. Even so, Pul keeps pushing with force, straining.
Ash tells him:
— You’re very strong, but not strong enough against me.
With his right hand, he forms a fist that begins to emit blue electric arcs. In a swift motion, he strikes Pul in the stomach, sending him flying back the way he came. Watching him radiate electricity, Agnar realizes: he is not only a fire mage, he has a mixed core.
With this new information, Agnar orders his squad to withdraw from the area. Pul is taken away by the medics. As they retreat and Ash notices that he waited until everyone had left, only Agnar and he remain in the zone.
— Well, are you going to answer me now, or are we going to fight?
— Well, I wasn’t planning on telling you anything like that… I think it’s obvious, isn’t it?
Quickly, pushing off with his left leg and closing the distance, Ash throws a punch at Agnar. Agnar dodges by moving to his right and, spotting an opening, wastes no time striking toward Ash’s ribs. Ash greatly reduces the damage by propelling himself with his left leg and expelling fire from his foot, avoiding the full impact.
He stops at a safe distance, taking a guarded stance, and comments:
— You’re in a different league compared to the gorilla.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Without a word, Agnar attacks at great speed, unleashing punches and kicks at Ash. Calmly, Ash evades and blocks with ease. In an instant, Agnar receives a swift blow and is pushed back. He is already beginning to sweat. Ash, however, does not seem to have moved more than necessary, and throughout it all he has maintained a serene, composed expression.
That unsettles Agnar. This man was bombarded, riddled with bullets, and still stands as if nothing happened. He does not seem afraid. And as much as Agnar senses it, he does not appear to be underestimating them either.
Ash interrupts his thoughts with a remark:
— Tired already? You know, while we were fighting I’ve been thinking. I noticed that those mountains in the distance are the same ones from where I was just a moment ago, and then, puff, everything changes all of a sudden. It’s night, it feels like I was transported somewhere else, and you were waiting for me.
— What an interesting strategy to take me down. But I think you failed in one detail: who would actually be the ones to do it. Were you placing too much faith in your new weapons? Or are there no competent soldiers left?
Agnar remains silent, guard still raised, allowing Ash to speak. Ash walks slowly around him and continues:
— Didn’t your mother ever tell you that silence says a lot?
Agnar raises an eyebrow, puzzled. Ash smiles.
— You see, I know you’ve been stalling, waiting for your soldiers to get into position. However, that won’t help you.
Ash draws his shotgun and fires a massive stream of fire toward Agnar. At the same time, soldiers positioned at a nearby building window unleash a pure mana spell at Ash. In response, he raises his free hand and forms a sphere of electrical energy to counter it. While straining against that attack, one of his eyes shifts toward where Agnar had been… and what he sees catches his interest.
All the fire he had launched begins to condense into a single point. Agnar’s figure becomes visible within the flames: hands extended forward, he has absorbed all the fire and now concentrates it into a brilliant sphere.
— How interesting —Ash mutters, amused.
Agnar looks at him directly and, with a confident smile, shouts:
— Welcome to the future!
He hurls the concentrated fireball at Ash, who fails to defend in time. The impact sends him flying violently into the nearest building, crashing through several walls.
The soldiers, seeing their mingghan triumphant, celebrate and congratulate him. Agnar responds by raising his thumb with a confident smile. Without wasting time, he enters through the newly formed tunnel of holes, expecting to find Ash’s corpse. But when he arrives, there is nothing.
He looks around. He does not find a single trace.
Immediately, through his communicator, he gives the order to search the entire area and requests aerial support. Then he takes a moment and reflects on what happened.
We underestimated him. How could I think that someone they had to seal because they could not kill him would die so easily?
While Agnar laments, the soldiers spread out to cover more ground. Those with the ability to detect the presence of mages find nothing. The tracking instruments also yield no results. How is it possible that a dinosaur evaded the most advanced detection methods? How much information was still missing about him?
Obviously, this was not going according to plan. And then Agnar understands.
He was not trying to kill them or win this battle. He was looking for information and an escape.
And Agnar, without intending to, gave him both.
Ash had already shown himself to be perceptive; he read Agnar perfectly during the fight. And to make matters worse, Agnar told him he was in the future. With that, Ash will have connected all the loose ends. And worst of all, he let himself be hit on purpose, just to secure a safe way out.
Agnar was a fool. He completely underestimated his enemy and gave him everything he needed. He had been blinded by arrogance. He should have changed the entire plan the moment he realized how much information about Ash was missing. Simply noticing that he was also an electric mage should have been enough to set off alarm bells.
With no new reports from his subordinates, Agnar gives the order to regroup. Once everyone is assembled, he begins outlining a new search plan. Fortunately, the city was evacuated, so they will not have to worry about collateral damage or civilian casualties. After briefing them, Agnar sends his men toward the city center.
However, one of his officers, a Jagun named Süld, approaches and informs him:
— Commander, soldier Feng has not returned.
After Agnar sent him flying, Ash had remained lying among the rubble. With a sigh, he commented:
— The future… yes, that makes sense.
He quickly got up and, brushing off the dust, headed toward a staircase a few steps away. He climbed to the second floor, then the third, then the fourth… but when he tried to reach the fifth, he ran into a soldier coming down the stairs. The soldier reacted fast: he raised his weapon to fire and, at the same time, grabbed his communicator to sound the alarm. However, Ash, with superhuman speed, disarmed him, snatched the communicator before he could say a word, and crushed it by closing his fist.
Then he delivered a hard punch to the soldier’s stomach. The man collapsed, paralyzed by the pain.
Ash grabbed him and moved toward a window. With the soldier taken hostage, he leapt to the next building, propelling himself discreetly with his fire magic. He repeated this process across several buildings until he considered himself far enough from his pursuers and in a safe area.
— Well, this is the moment. Time for the interrogation —said Ash, rubbing his hands with anticipation.
— I won’t tell you anything, no matter what you do to me. The only thing you need to know is that you’re going to die tonight.
— If you knew how many have told me that… Anyway, that’s not the topic I want to discuss. Let’s see…
Ash reaches inside his coat and takes out one of the three syringes hanging from his belt.
— What is that? —Feng asks, alarmed.
— Nothing —Ash replies, with the same calm tone a doctor might use with a patient.
He then drives the syringe into Feng’s neck and empties its contents.
— Well, how many years into the future am I? —he asks, as casually as someone politely asking for the time.
— As if I’d tell you —Feng snaps defiantly.
— You will?
— No.
— What year am I in?
— The year 3132… wait… what?
Why am I in the future? Why are you trying to kill me? What happened to this country?
Feng, now visibly uncomfortable and fidgeting as if seated in the worst chair imaginable, answers:
— You were sealed, idiot. For being a damned walking threat. Now you’re in the future because the one who sealed you died, and we’re ready to kill you.
— Mmm… all right, I understand now. Tell me simply: where is there a library?
Feng, after thinking for a moment, answers:
— What do you want a library for?
— To get informed? —Ash says, as if it were obvious.
— Nobody goes to libraries anymore. Everyone uses the internet.
— What is that?
— It’s a communications network accessible through cell phones or computers. Why am I answering you? —he says angrily.
— And what are cell phones and computers?
After a while, with Feng under the effects of the drug teaching Ash how to use his phone, Ash knocks him unconscious with a single blow and, using the device, begins reading the entire history of how he and others were sealed for the sake of peace. When he finishes, Ash laughs and flies toward the city center. After covering a few hundred meters, he descends and continues on foot.
Before moving on, he takes a pocket watch from the inner pocket of his coat. It is black and bears strange engravings carved into its exterior, containing more than twelve symbols instead of the classic hour and minute numbers. Ash looks at it as if checking the time and comments to himself:
— It seems it’s not ready yet. I would say it’s missing about a year, more or less.
He puts the watch away and continues walking through the streets. As he strolls, memories return of when, under better circumstances, he had visited the capital of Mongol Khanbaliq. He notices how everything has changed: the streets, the buildings, and now there are all kinds of shops. However, at a certain point, something catches his attention. One building is not dark like the others; it has lights on inside. Above all, Ash recognizes the place. It is a bar he once visited when he came to the city, and he is surprised to see that it has barely changed.
He stops in front of the door and, before opening it, considers whether it could be a trap. After a few seconds, he concludes that it is not possible, and he enters.
As he steps through the door, he observes the old place almost exactly as he remembers it. He looks around and finds not a single soul… until he turns his head toward the bar. There, a young man is drinking straight from a bottle of alcohol. Hearing the door, the young man turns and sees Ash. Upon seeing his face, Ash cannot help but compare him to the one who attacked him earlier. Although more than eighty years have passed since he was sealed, for Ash it was barely an hour. He quickly notices the resemblance. They are surely related. Moreover, from the information he extracted from the soldier he captured, he now knows that there exists an entire family with time-manipulation magic. To be certain, he begins speaking to him:
— Are you the only one here?
— Well, yes. The owner told me that when I finish my bottle, I should close the place. So I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be proper to serve a customer.
— Oh, don’t worry. I don’t drink alcohol, I’m just passing through. Everything outside is closed, and to be honest, I’m a bit lost. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around these parts. So I decided to gather some information, and for that, a bar is an excellent place.
— Ah, you’re not from around here? Well, you should know there was an evacuation today, by the military.
— Oh, really? —Ash comments— I think I’ll stay a few minutes then, to see if it’s safe to go out.
Ash takes two steps forward. He stops and, turning his head from right to left while surveying the place, ends up fixing his gaze on Dante.
— And tell me… is your hair like that naturally?
— What? No… it’s just like this. I was born with this hair color. In fact, everyone in my family has it the same. Well… actually, I think mine is getting darker. I suppose I haven’t been in very good health lately.
While Dante was rambling about his hair, Ash interrupts him:
— Then that’s very amusing. Generally, the worse your health is, the more color you lose. Have I seen you somewhere before?
— Well, my grandfather is famous. You might know him. He’s Abel Akyane.
— Ah, yes. I heard about him recently.
When Dante hears that, he freezes for a brief instant: eyes wide in surprise, breath halted. What happens next is that Ash swiftly draws his shotgun, presses it against Dante’s head… and fires.
What do you think of Ash?
