Supreme Magus

Chapter 3513: Cautionary Tale (Part 2)

’She still believes in me more than I do if she thinks I can overcome the bottleneck of the bright blue and achieve the violet. I guess Mother was right about one thing. I’m a failure of a son. I wonder why it took me so long to realize it.

’Maybe I could reach the violet if I kept trying, but what’s the point? I will never regain all the treasures I’ve lost and I’m too tired to start over.’ Jorl spent his day in alcohol-induced inebriation which along with his tantrums made him hard to miss.

All Awakened establishments refused to host him. They accepted his patronage only under the condition he took his order to go.

Jorl was trapped in a never-ending cycle of odd jobs to buy himself Red Dragon and drinking himself to sleep until he was out of alcohol. A small valley in-between mountains had become his home in the Gorgon Empire.

It was isolated enough for him not to disturb anyone with his snoring and fits of rage. Also, a simple earth spell in the morning fixed the damage he caused to the environment during his intoxicated nights.

Orpal had studied Jorl from a distance for a while but even though the Griffon was no match for him, the Undead King still sent one of his shapeshifted minions to deal with him.

’With my luck, Jorl might receive a visit from his siblings while we are talking and all my plans would be ruined.’ Meln grumbled inwardly.

The Upyr took Orpal’s appearance and a full set of equipment made of Night’s dark-red crystals. The foolish Naga had accepted Meln’s prism, hungry for the power of the Guardians, and paid for it with his mind.

While making his pitch, Orpal always left out the part about his ability to overwrite the will of his Chosen and detonate their prism any time he wanted. He had been betrayed too many times to trust someone and gave out prisms only to have spare bodies.

"Good evening, Jorl the Storm Griffon. Don’t be afraid, I’m here only to talk." Orpal said while walking inside the valley’s area illuminated by Jorl’s fire spell. "I bring you food and drinks."

The last word earned him the Griffon’s undivided attention.

"Come close to the fire, friend." Jorl replied. "At this point, I don’t care what your intentions are. Heck, if the alcohol you have there is good, I’ll let you kill me without a fuss. Dying at the hand of someone as famous as you would be the highlight of my miserable existence."

A wave of the Griffon’s hand conjured a jagged stone throne that resembled a torture device for his guest. To Jorl’s drunken eyes, however, it looked stylish and comfortable.

"You know me?" Orpal said in surprise while fixing the throne with chore magic.

Not only because of Jorl’s apparent calm but also because those were the kindest words he had been addressed with in a very long while.

"Of course." Jorl smiled, making Orpal’s chest swell with pride. "Who doesn’t know the name of Poopie, the Incontinent King? I’ll be honest with you, brother. Even in my darkest hour, it brought me relief knowing there was someone on Mogar who was more hated by his parents than me.

"I don’t know how you could bear for so long to carry such a name. In your shoes, I would have changed it as soon as I could."

"That’s not my real name!" Orpal snarled, feeling his pride deflate like a popped balloon. "That’s how my enemies call me to mock me! I was born Orpal of Lutia and renamed myself Meln Narchat after my parents disowned me."

"Really?" Jorl’s eyes wandered aimlessly around his guest, incapable of focusing on a single point. "That’s not what it says here."

The Storm Griffon offered Meln his communication amulet, missing him by a meter.

Curiosity got the better of the Undead King so he leaned forward to take the amulet and look at its contents. It projected a hologram of something called the Web’s Encyclopaedia Project.

The displayed page was about Meln. There was no mention of his real name, only of his unflattering moniker. There was also a list of all his failures since childhood and the full video Thrud had released upon her death.

"I’m not the Eternal Loser!" He yelled while reading the many insulting titles attributed to him. "I defeated Krisha Manohar, the god of healing. Mirim Distar died by my hand!"

"Dude, killing a human woman isn’t something I would brag about." Jorl hiccupped, picking up the food and beverages Meln had dropped in outrage from the ground. "It’s lame. Even a Hatchling can do that."

"She wasn’t a human woman!" Orpal couldn’t believe his own ears. "She was the Lord Commander of the Queen’s Corpse. A peerless warrior."

"And I’m Valeron the First." Jorl laughed with a burp. "Dude, I know it sounds weird coming from me, but you should cut back on drinking."

A tap of his talon moved the hologram to Mirim’s page. She was celebrated solely as the Marchioness of the Distar region. A fair and honest ruler but also an otherwise unremarkable human.

"You killed old men and women like a thug." The Storm Griffon shook his head and almost puked for that. "There’s no honor or glory in that. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I…" Meln was about to launch himself in a tirade to explain his actions but decided otherwise.

’I have no proof of my claims.’ He thought. ’Mirim’s position in the Kingdom was a secret and with my current reputation, not even this drunkard would believe me.’

"Never mind. I’ve come to you with an offer that will make us both happy. Are you willing to listen to me?"

"Depends. Do you have more booze?" When Jorl showed the already empty bottles and plates, Meln’s jaw hit the floor and his temper flared.

’Calm down, you idiot.’ Night reeled his violent emotions in. ’This is actually a blessing in disguise. The dumber he is, the easier to convince him to help you.’

’Point taken.’ Meln had come prepared and had several bottles in his dimensional pocket but now took them out one at a time to ensure Jorl’s wouldn’t pass out drunk.

"I understand your pain, Jorl. We are Divine Beasts who have been rejected by their bloodlines out of pettiness and envy." He said.

"Preach, brother." Jorl gulped down a glass of Red Dragon and waited for the refill.

"We are bound to live in the shadows as pariahs. We are the laughing stock of our kind." Meln filled Jorl’s glass and much to his surprise, the Griffon stared at him intently.

"Maybe you are a laughing stock." Jorl’s voice held no mockery, just bitterness. "My fate is much worse. I’m a cautionary tale. My siblings use me as a paragon of idiocy when teaching their hatchlings how to behave. Find more to read at

"When you die, you’ll soon be forgotten. When I die, I will be remembered as the most pathetic Griffon who ever lived. My shame will be eternal." Only after admitting that painful truth out loud did Jorl find the strength to put the glass down.