Omega Ascension System[BL]-Chapter 278: _The Mask Falls

Garrick’s POV

*****

"H–High Matron." Morwen stuttered, voice low. "We... We need to punish this wolf. The people already demand someone to blame for the losses today—almost five hundred civilian lives. Gone."

Garrick gritted his teeth, spinning himself on the ground until he got a good view of the woman who kept saving his life. Except this time she looked absolutely ethereal. Divine.

Amara—the High Matron—levitated several meters away from the dais, slowly floating closer. Her arms were spread, face covered with the white hood.

"Someone to blame?" Amara repeated, unbothered. "I thought it was clear who that would be."

Garrick’s brows furrowed.

He couldn’t deny the tension between Amara and Morwen. Or was he imagining things?

Each time Morwen spoke to her, it sounded like she had more to say. To ask.

"The Rogue King?" Morwen muttered. "Y–Yes, he should be blamed but then—"

"Kyren literally threatened to erase Arcadia from the map."

"Because we didn’t hand over this heretic to him, your grace." Morwen’s voice rose an octave, fingers pointed at Garrick now. "We’re housing an enemy of Lunaria. And apparently... This isn’t his first time in Arcadia."

At the mention of that, Garrick’s features twisted with a frown.

The light around Amara shifted in brightness briefly. "Oh? You mean—"

"Mana. Pure Arcadian mana lingers on him. Our kingdom basically branded him with its essence—and I used that to uncover the truth." Morwen suddenly sounded like someone who had been hiding a boundless truth.

She took two steps on the dais. Garrick was no longer looking at her, but he could sense the change in her tone.

"His prior presence in our domain would be from your own incompetence." Amara brushed off her words easily. "Release him from his chains. I will not repeat myself, councillor."

Silence.

Slowly, Garrick sat up on the marble floor, not peeling his eyes off his wife for a second. Even he couldn’t deduce what she had planned now.

And her not even bothering to reach him telepathically told him she wasn’t sharing that plan.

"With all due respect... No." Morwen didn’t hesitate with those words. Gasps rippled amongst her fellow councillors but she didn’t back down. "This council exists for a reason. And you abused your authority earlier today, ordering us to siphon thirty per cent of our Central Runic Core to protect the tower."

A silent snigger left Amara. "What? Was my order to protect our tower a crime? An aberration?"

Garrick was torn, head whipping between Amara and Morwen. Two transcendent core mages... Staring at each other. He trusted Amara but he didn’t like the sound of that.

"You weren’t protecting the tower." Morwen went on. "You were protecting the secrets you have buried in it. Hundreds of secret chambers all dedicated to you. All dedicated to unknown knowledge you’ve hidden from the rest of us."

Amara didn’t speak. Not yet.

Instead, she stayed in place, not moving from the spot she levitated at.

If there was one thing Garrick knew after centuries of being with her—it was to fear her silence.

"I’m curious," Amara finally spoke, lights flickering on the ceilings and walls. "When Kyren fought you... Did he say something? Whisper anything that caught your attention perhaps?"

Morwen made a stunned sound, hesitating for a moment. Then, "I didn’t need the Rogue King’s words to get the scales taken off my eyes."

Magic hummed in the air. Like a beast about to snap.

"I’ve followed you blindly for centuries." Morwen’s voice cracked with uncertainty. "I’ve trusted your rule. Compared to past Matrons, your rule has been the best—until recently."

Garrick noticed Amara’s fingers just then.

They twitched. Like she was struggling to hold back. And he had a feeling Morwen noticed that too.

"I will not release the prisoner." Morwen’s voice echoed like bells. "Worst case scenario, I send him to the Lunarians. Let them decide his fate. I’m sorry, your grace but I can no longer trust your decisions."

Those words settled in the air for several seconds. No one spoke. No one even dared breathe too loudly. Because everyone could feel the tension clawing at their chests.

Eventually, Garrick’s limbs stretched. He was lifted off the floor, spun around until he faced the councillors. Morwen raised her right hand, making a pulling gesture.

But then—

Garrick stiffened.

Another force tugged at him. One much stronger and demanding.

With a gasp, he was pulled backwards, away from the councillors. When he flew past Amara, time seemingly froze. For a breath. He got a glimpse of her face underneath the hood.

Her smirk.

Garrick hit the far wall with a grunt, skidding across the marble before collapsing in a heap. His vision blurred, but he still lifted his head—because the air itself had changed.

Light—holy, blinding, divine—pulsed off Amara’s body in waves. Like a star awakening.

Morwen reacted instantly, robes snapping in the backlash of force as her own aura erupted. "So be it," she whispered, voice suddenly ancient, carrying the weight of eras. "I had prayed it would not come to this... but truth is a stubborn serpent, High Matron."

Amara’s laugh was soft. Soft—and older than the tower they stood in. "You presume to preach truth to me, child? I wove runes into this kingdom while your soul was still learning breath."

The other councillors scattered back in terror as the two transcendent witches drew in power. The very wards of the holy chamber shrieked awake, runic lines flaring to life across the walls, ceiling, and floor.

Morwen thrust her palm forward. A spear of white flame tore through the air.

Amara simply raised a single finger in response.

The flame shattered, bending around her body like obedient silk before dissipating into sparks.

Morwen’s eyes widened. "You still twist light magic. You dare—like you’re holy?"

Amara descended a fraction, the lights around her swirling into a halo that made the crystals tremble. "You mistake mastery for blasphemy. A child pawing at the ocean does not make the sea impure."

Magic clashed between them again, a violent burst that rattled the very marrow of the walls.

Garrick shielded his face, watching through his fingers as the chamber flickered between gold and blue, each surge a promise of destruction barely contained by millennia-old wards.

Morwen screamed over the roar of power, "You’ve deceived us for centuries! If this marks the end of your rule—so be it!"

At that, Amara finally pushed back her hood—eyes glowing like eclipsed moons.

Her voice rolled like prophecy:

"No, Morwen. Today, the mask falls. And all shall see the true heretic standing before me."

The chamber cracked with light as the two lunged at each other—and the world went white.