The hours dragged on as the spell reached its end.
The Northdeath Body Spell had drained every ounce of magic from the room,
Archvel’s body swayed as the last of the ritual's power seeped into him.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.
His breathing was shallow, his consciousness slipping away.
The strain of the spell had pushed him to his absolute limits, both physically and mentally.
For what felt like an eternity, Archvel lay motionless on the cold stone floor of the Dark Archive, his mind drifting into a dark void.
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When his eyes finally fluttered open, he was in a neutral state of emotions.
The silence was deafening, and for a moment, Archvel simply stared at the ceiling, his mind blank as he processed what had just transpired.
Then, like a spark igniting a fire, the memories of the spell surged back into his mind.
He slowly sat up, his muscles stiff but pulsing with a strange new energy.
Archvel flexed his fingers, feeling the strength coursing through them.
His once pale and wiry arms now appeared more robust, his veins slightly visible under his thicker skin.
He ran a hand across his chest, feeling the density of his muscles. Even his breathing was different—deeper, stronger, as though his lungs had doubled in capacity.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face.
“It worked,It actually worked.”
-
He then checked his status to confirm the changes.
-
"Archvel Detriment"
"Stage 5: Necromancer (Level 5)"
"Magic: 10.7"
"Physical Power: 23.5"
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Spells
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"Conjure Skeleton Level 3 (Conjure six skeletons from the underground; the power of each skeleton increased by 15%, and the defensive power of each skeleton increased by 15%)."
"Decay Bolt (able to shoot up a dark energy filled with decay in the form of a bolt)
"Dark Burst"
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"Predatory Eyes"
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Passive Abilities
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“Northdeath Body ( “The Giant” (All physical capabilites are increased.)
"Night Eyes (all necromancers have the ability to see better in the dark, around 50% to 70%)
"Basic Dark Magic Rune Understanding, Level 2"
"Basic Dark Magic Protection (Resistance against all magic spells is 10% and 20% against light magic spells)"
"Ancient Language Mastery"
"Human Body Mastery Level 2"
"Death Investigation Level 2"
"Cleaning Level 3"
"Skeleton Creation, Level 2"
-
His body, once frail and delicate like most mages, now felt solid.
He made his way out of Dark Archive Temple.
His skeleton servants and sentinels remained stationed throughout the Archive, their empty eyes following him as he passed.
Archvel ignored them for now.
-
Archvel stood before a massive boulder—one of the many scattered near the entrance to the Dark Archive.
The stone was as tall as he was, its surface rough and weathered from centuries of exposure to the elements.
Archvel clenched his fist, feeling the raw power in his arm.
He took a deep breath, planting his feet firmly on the ground.
“It would be great if I do not break my hands...” he said jokingly.
Then, with a single motion, he threw a punch at the boulder.
The impact was deafening.
A crack echoed through the air as the boulder split down the middle, fragments of stone scattering in every direction.
He stared at the remains of the rock, his hand still clenched in a fist.
There wasn’t so much as a scratch on his knuckles.
He couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face.
“Incredible.”
Archvel turned his gaze toward the nearby trees, their trunks thick and sturdy.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the closest one.
The world around him blurred as he moved, the wind whipping past his face.
He reached the tree in a fraction of a second, leaping effortlessly into the air and landing on a thick branch ten meters above the ground.
“Ten meters...and it felt… easy.”
Archvel leaped down, landing lightly on his feet, and took off running again.
His speed was astounding, far beyond anything he had experienced before.
The forest around the Archive became a blur as he dashed through it, weaving between trees with perfect precision.
He estimated his speed to be around sixty or seventy kilometers per hour, and yet he felt no strain, no fatigue.
He came to a stop near a small stream, his breathing steady despite the exertion.
He crouched down, his fingers brushing against the cold water. His reflection stared back at him—a face sharper, more defined than he remembered.
Even his posture had changed, his frame exuding an air of strength and confidence.
“This isn’t just power,This is a transformation. I’m not the same as I was before.”
Archvel stood and began testing his endurance.
He sprinted through the forest for what felt like hours, pushing himself to his limits.
Despite the speed and intensity, his body showed no signs of slowing down.
He estimated that he could maintain his top speed for two, maybe even three hours before tiring.
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As the day drew to a close, Archvel returned to the Dark Archive,
Not only had he closed the gap between himself and the physically dominant warriors of the world, but he had also surpassed them in ways they couldn’t imagine.
Sitting down in his study, Archvel allowed himself a moment to reflect. He glanced at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“This is just the beginning,With this power, I’ll carve my name into history. No one will stand in my way.”
Archvel leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. For the first time in a long while, he felt invincible.