Ale's journey: The rise of an adventurer

The monster, or rather the dark mage in his massive and deformed form, moved with surprising speed for a creature of that size. His immense body now writhed like a giant caterpillar, crushing everything in its path. Suddenly, he swung his right hand, launching a devastating wave of darkness. It surged toward Ale like a murky sea, ready to engulf him.

The movement was so fast that Ale barely had time to throw himself to the left, narrowly dodging the attack. But, contrary to what he had hoped, the monster’s hand didn’t retreat. Instead, it stretched, unnaturally long, and latched firmly onto the massive winch at the back of the boat. Ale, senses heightened, barely had time to stand when the creature’s left hand mirrored the first movement, sweeping from left to right with almost calculated precision. Ale dove again, sliding across the rain-soaked deck to the right. But the monster had anticipated his movements: just like its right hand, the left hand also stretched, grabbing another point of the winch, creating a circle around him. Ale found himself trapped between the creature’s massive, serpent-like arms, caught in a moving prison, both exits blocked by these powerful limbs, ready to crush him.

Ale, with his senses at their peak, realized he had to act quickly. The monster’s hands pulled with monstrous strength, ripping the winch from its base and hurling the heavy metal toward Ale’s back. He had only a split second to react. In a desperate leap, he jumped straight up, narrowly dodging the metallic mass as it whizzed beneath him with a sharp hiss, crashing into the monster’s massive body.

The impact pushed the creature back a few steps, but didn’t seem to injure it. While still in the air, Ale watched as the iron winch ricocheted off the monster’s body like a ball bouncing inside a metal cage, each hit echoing with a dull thud, rebounding back and forth without causing any visible damage. With every impact, the speed of the metal increased, spinning wildly out of control.

Suddenly, the monster’s mouth opened wide—or rather, a grotesque mockery of a mouth appeared beneath his dark mask. The iron winch, drawn by an invisible force, shot toward Ale at breakneck speed like a missile of unleashed metal. Still airborne, Ale had no choice but to brace himself. Crossing his arms in front of him, he prepared to take the blow.

The impact was brutal, nearly crushing. The force of it flung Ale forward, along with the winch, sending both plummeting. The river monster, the spirit of the waters, stirred at the sight of Ale and the winch plummeting straight toward its gaping maw. With palpable excitement, it opened its massive jaws, ready to swallow them whole.

Sensing the immediate danger, Ale didn’t have time to chant a healing spell. Instead, he concentrated all his energy into his legs, crouching on the metallic winch as if it were a springboard. With one final desperate push, he leapt forward with immense force, aiming for the boat’s deck. In doing so, he launched the winch powerfully toward the river monster’s head.

The winch struck the river spirit’s skull with a dull thud, causing it to howl in pain. The creature, writhing from the impact, thrashed violently in the water, unsettling the boat with its frenzied movements. The children, though shielded by Ale’s protective barriers, clung to whatever they could, their cries drowned out by the spirit’s roar and the crashing waves.

The dark mage, on the other hand, wasn’t spared from the chaos. His massive form staggered, bumping left and right, losing his balance as the boat was thrown into disarray. Yet despite the pandemonium, he maintained his grip, ready to strike again.

Ale, now back on the boat’s deck, stood up with difficulty, his muscles taut and his breath heavy. The river spirit continued to writhe beneath the waves, but its movements were becoming more regular, as if it was regaining control and continuing its course toward the falls.

The dark mage, having regained his own balance, saw Ale vulnerable, muttering incantations to heal his injured arms. He suddenly lunged forward. The mage hurled himself at Ale, mouth wide open as if he intended to devour him whole.

"Ignis Orbis! Ignis Orbis!"

Fireballs burst from Ale’s hands, launching forcefully at the mage. The flames crackled across the surface of his dark form, but they only slowed his advance. The monster kept charging, barely hindered by the magic.

Ale couldn’t afford to retreat further. Behind him, the children huddled behind the walls of air he had erected earlier to protect them. He had to defend them at all costs.

"Fulmen Luminis!" he shouted, summoning a series of lightning arrows in his hands. With a fluid motion, he hurled them straight at the mage. The bolts pierced through his body, puncturing his massive form with small, glowing holes. This time, the mage slowed down, visible pain etched on his monstrous features. But to Ale’s horror, the wounds began to close almost instantly, the darkness regenerating at an incredible speed.

"You will pay for what you’ve done!" growled the dark mage, his voice distorted with growing rage. He opened his mouth wide, unleashing dozens, then hundreds of black spheres in all directions. The orbs of darkness spread out, not only targeting Ale but also heading toward the children, the boat, and even the river spirit. It was a frenzied attack, an act of madness, as if the mage wanted to destroy everything in an explosion of chaos.

Panic rose within Ale. The spheres were approaching rapidly. He couldn’t intercept them all. He needed a solution, one last chance. And just as despair threatened to overwhelm him, an idea struck.

"Umbra Duplicem!" he murmured, invoking the cloning magic, a power he had learned from Nyxion but had sworn never to use in public. Dark silhouettes emerged from the boat’s deck, taking the form of Ale’s clones, faceless humanoid shadows. A dozen shadowy doubles stood around him, ready to confront the dark spheres.

“It’s... creepy seeing my clones without faces,” Ale muttered, surprised by the sight of his own creations, shadows of himself, silent and menacing.

Among the children, a murmur rose. "Shadows... is that dark magic?" one of them asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Is our hero a follower of the darkness?" another worried.

But despite their unease, other children quickly replied with unwavering faith. "No, the Prince of Light’s clones aren’t dangerous." "They’re here to protect us," added another, wide-eyed, staring at the figures standing around them like silent guardians.

Ale raised his hand once more.

"Fulmen Luminis!" he incanted again, launching lightning bolts with precision. His clones mimicked his movements, also throwing light arrows. The dark spheres were pierced one by one, bursting under the impact of the magical arrows. The few spheres that escaped this rain of light were intercepted by Ale’s clones, who lunged at them to neutralize them.

The dark mage, seeing his attacks fail, scowled in frustration. "A follower of darkness?" he murmured, eyes fixed on Ale’s clones. "No… That’s not it. These shadows... they’re different." He squinted. "You’re not one of us; you’re an imposter wielding forces beyond your understanding!"

As his rage grew, the dark mage’s body began to distort, taking on grotesque forms. His appearance changed constantly: one moment, he resembled a giant tiger, the next, a monstrous bear, then he morphed into a faceless, formless mass of darkness. This unstable and enraged form lunged violently at Ale’s clones, engulfing them one by one. The scene was terrifying, but Ale, instead of rushing, observed calmly, his expression serene, as if waiting for the right moment to act.

The dark mage eventually imprisoned all the clones within his shapeless body, absorbing them into his dark mass. He roared triumphantly, but Ale whispered an incantation:

"Lux Immensus."

Suddenly, all the clones trapped inside the mage lit up with a white, almost sacred light. The brightness emanating from them was so intense it seemed pure and unyielding. This radiant energy spread rapidly through the dark mass of the mage, winding through every shadowy particle. The darkness, so dense and regenerative before, could not withstand the blinding power of the light.

Beams of light shot out from every part of the dark mage’s body, piercing him from all directions. He tried to regenerate as he had before, but this time, the light prevented any recovery. The dark particles dissolved, annihilated one by one, unable to withstand the divine force of the magic.

The mage, in a final surge of pain and despair, let out a muffled cry. “No…!” But he didn’t even have time to finish his sentence. His massive body disintegrated under the light’s power. The darkness was utterly consumed, and silence fell.

Where the dark mage had stood just moments before, there was now only a luminous mass, bright and radiant, floating lightly in the air. Then, even that light began to dissipate, carried away by the wind, until no trace of the darkness or the mage remained.

All that was left was the dark mage’s mask, adorned with mystic symbols and the crescent moon icon, falling to the ground with a dull thud, a distant echo of the malevolent power that had once inhabited its wearer.

Ale picked up the mask, briefly examining the object. The malevolent aura that once surrounded it had vanished, and it no longer emitted any sinister energy. He tucked it into his coat, deciding to examine it later, when he had a moment to rest.

The boat, still supported by the river spirit, continued its reckless course toward the waterfalls. Despite the dark mage’s defeat, the spirit seemed still under the influence of an unknown force, accelerating toward the precipice without slowing down. The roar of the waterfall grew louder with every second as the distance shortened. The crash was imminent.

Ale glanced quickly at the children, huddled behind the air walls he had created to protect them. They were terrified but safe for now. Taking a deep breath, Ale focused his magic, reinforcing the air walls surrounding the children, layering additional protective barriers over the existing ones, creating a shield as solid as possible.

Without wasting time, he turned toward the boat’s deck. The fall was inevitable, but he had to prepare for the impact. “Vinestra!” he incanted, and immediately, thick, gnarled vines of wood sprouted from the deck, rising like living serpents. They coiled around his legs, anchoring his feet firmly to the boat’s floor. Ale could feel their solidity, every fiber of wood infused with his magic, rooted to withstand the coming shock.

The roar of the falls was deafening. They were now only a hundred meters from the edge. Ale braced himself, his muscles tense, ready to endure the inevitable. His eyes scanned the top of the waterfall, desperately searching for a solution to slow or divert the boat before it was too late.

"BOOM"

The boat hit the waterfall with brutal force, sending a massive wave crashing across the deck. Water rushed through the wood, sweeping everything in its path. Ale held on tightly, the vines attached to his feet keeping him in place, while the children, shielded by the air walls, were shaken but remained safe behind the magical barriers. The roar of the raging water was deafening, making it almost impossible to hear anything else but the crashing waves.

But against all odds, the river spirit did something unexpected: it suddenly changed direction, pivoting with improbable grace for a creature of its size. In a near-majestic motion, it rose against the current, ascending the towering waterfall. The boat, still carried on the spirit’s back, was pulled upward, defying the laws of nature as it climbed the falls at breathtaking speed.

Ale felt a violent jolt beneath his feet as the boat lifted almost vertically. He gritted his teeth, concentrating to maintain his spells. At a 90-degree incline, the children were pressed against the air walls, the sensation of falling tearing screams of panic from them, despite the magical protection surrounding them.

Ale himself wasn’t in a much better position. The wooden vines anchoring him to the boat pulled on his legs with incredible force. His body was tilted almost horizontally, gravity exerting itself violently against him. Every muscle in his body strained as he fought to resist being swept away by the power of the waters.

The ascent seemed endless, each second stretched by adrenaline. The river spirit, however, moved forward undeterred, carving its way through the falls, defying the tumultuous currents. Ale could feel the creature’s colossal strength beneath his feet, as if it were completely in control of the elements surrounding it.

But despite the protection of the air walls and the wooden vines, the sensation of climbing at such a steep angle was far from pleasant. The children whimpered, their hands gripping whatever they could. Even protected, fear consumed them, and Ale, though accustomed to dangerous situations, felt an unusual sense of vertigo.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, about halfway up the waterfalls, around fifty meters above the swirling surface, the river spirit changed direction again. It pivoted sharply, diving horizontally and plunging through the cascading waters. The pressure of the water seemed intent on crushing them, but the spirit skillfully guided them beyond the liquid curtain.

Ale and the children were conducted into an enormous cave, hidden behind the waterfall. Light pierced through in places, reflected by the shimmering surface of the underground pool. This cave, far from being natural, seemed crafted, with a small port capable of accommodating several boats. The atmosphere was calm, almost peaceful, in stark contrast to the waterfall’s turbulence.