The once-grand Avery estate had been reduced to a desolate, smoldering ruin. Scattered across the ruins were the remains of undead creatures, their shattered bones and decaying flesh still faintly glowing with the remnants of enchantments.
The battle is over,among the fighters, Oliver appeared to be the weakest.
He wasn’t even a fully-fledged mage.
Yet, in the end, it was the arcane blast unleashed from his staff that crippled Lord Avery, leading the group to a decisive victory. And it was Oliver himself who struck down the fearsome necromancer known as the Venomous Fang.
But the real game-changer wasn’t just Oliver’s skill—it was his pet.
The flying beast Kitty had turned the tide of the battle. The value of flying magical creatures was already considered immense, but it seemed to rise even further after this fight.
Oliver knelt beside Kitty, the massive winged tiger who had turned the tide of battle. Kitty’s once-pristine white fur was matted with soot and streaked with blood—none of it her own—but her amber eyes gleamed with an unyielding ferocity.
Oliver produced a small vial filled with a glowing blue liquid—a high-grade mana potion he had painstakingly brewed himself. “Here, Kitty,” he said gently, uncorking the vial and holding it to her mouth. “You’ve earned this.”
Kitty's massive tongue curling around the vial. As the liquid disappeared, her breathing steadied, and the faint scratches on her body began to heal. She let out a satisfied rumble, nuzzling Oliver’s hand in gratitude.
Without Kitty, the team wouldn’t have stood a chance against the Venomous Fang.
At one point, the necromancer had summoned over thirty undead creatures, with more than twenty swarming beneath the earth to attack the team. Above them, a dozen skeletal beasts guarded their master, circling protectively in the air.
As undead constructs, these creatures didn’t perish easily. Even when smashed to pieces, they would quickly reassemble, making them a relentless threat.
Victory could only be achieved by killing the Venomous Fang himself—a daunting task made even harder by his airborne skeletal steed. Hovering high above the battlefield, his position rendered conventional spells ineffective.
No wonder flying magical beasts were worth a fortune.
Nearby, Oinky, Oliver’s luminous wild boar, trotted over with an eager squeal. The magical boar’s golden glow had dimmed after the intense battle, but his small, beady eyes shone with unwavering devotion as he nudged Oliver’s leg. Oinky’s role hadn’t been as prominent as Kitty’s, but his light-based attacks had proven instrumental in disorienting the undead and crippling their dark enchantments.
Oliver chuckled, scratching Oinky behind the ears. “You did great too, buddy,” he said. The boar’s tail wagged enthusiastically, and he let out a contented grunt before flopping down at Oliver’s feet, clearly exhausted.
The red-haired shield knight, André, approached them, his armor dented and smeared with grime. He pointed at Kitty and Oinky with a curious expression. “Oliver, where on earth did you find these creatures?” he asked, his voice tinged with both envy and admiration. “A flying tiger and a glowing boar? You’re like a walking legend.”
Oliver hesitated, his hand pausing mid-stroke on Kitty’s head. “It was... luck,” he said carefully, avoiding André’s probing gaze. “I stumbled across them during one of my early adventures. Just a fluke, really.”
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He couldn’t tell them the truth—that he possessed a supercharged magical core capable of forming bonds with magic creatures. It was his greatest secret, the cornerstone of his growing strength. If anyone discovered it, he would become a target not just for rival mages but for kingdoms and cults alike.
“If it weren’t for you, I can’t imagine how today would’ve ended,” Violanda added, her gratitude evident in the way she looked at him. “You’re not just a hero to us, Oliver—you’ve saved the entire town.”
“You’ve grown far too quickly,” Hector said, his tone a mix of disbelief and awe. “In just a few short weeks, you’ve gone from someone barely standing out at the academy to the decisive force in a battle like this. It’s... astonishing.”
Hector’s voice faltered as he recalled the Oliver of a month ago—the same young man who had brawled with Edmund on the academy training grounds. Back then, Oliver had been little more than an unusually strong commoner.
And now?
Now, even Hector, a certified mage and senior student, had to admit that Oliver had eclipsed him.
André turned his attention to the skeletal remains of the necromancer’s mount. The eerie blue flame—the soul core—still flickered ominously within the collapsed bones.
“Is that...?” André began, but Violanda interrupted. “Yes. It’s the soul core of his skeletal horse,” she said, her voice reverent as she carefully scooped up the flame with hands glowing faintly with protective magic. “A flying mount of this caliber could fetch a fortune. But mastering it would require necromancy…”
With the Venomous Fang dead, his undead army crumbled without the magical energy sustaining them. Most of the remains scattered into heaps of brittle bones, of little value.
But the skeletal steed was a different story.
Meanwhile, Hector, the senior student and de facto leader of their group, was busy rifling through the necromancer’s belongings. He pulled out a heavy, bloodstained pouch and whistled as he emptied its contents into his palm. “One hundred and twenty gold coins,” he announced, his tone a mix of awe and satisfaction.“No wonder he was so rich—this guy was so powerful.”
Alongside the coins, he found a tattered spell tome and several mana potions and an assortment of herbs, worth another thirty coins combined.
He held up the tome, his expression grim. “This has to go to the Mage’s Tower. We can’t keep something this dangerous. But turning it in will earn us a decent reward.”
When they turned their attention to Avery’s estate, however, the findings were less impressive.
After much searching, they uncovered a small chest containing 200 gold coins and a collection of valuables worth about 130 more. For a local lord, his wealth was surprisingly modest.
Violanda glancing toward the battered and beaten lord, who was tied up near the rubble of his estate.
Avery’s face was pale, and his once-proud demeanor had crumbled into abject misery. “I spent it all,” he sobbed. “Every last coin. I paid tribute to the Silver Circle cult and poured the rest into learning necromancy. Please, have mercy!”
The group exchanged skeptical glances before Violanda spoke. “It makes sense. Necromancy isn’t cheap to learn, and the Silver Circle wouldn’t accept a low-level mage without significant payment.”
Hector sighed, rubbing his temples. “We’ll sort him out later. For now, let’s focus on dividing the spoils.”
Despite the modest haul from Avery, the overall value of their spoils—including the skeletal horse—was staggering. The total came to nearly 500 gold coins, not counting the undead mount.
“Oliver should take 200 coins, and Hector another 100. The rest will be divided among the rest of us,” Violanda proposed.
No one objected.
Oliver and Hector had contributed the most to their success; it was only fair they received the largest shares.
As for the skeletal horse, its fate would be decided once Professor Arcanus returned. Both Violanda and Hector insisted it wasn’t a simple prize.
“To control it, someone will need to learn at least basic necromancy,” Violanda explained. “And necromancy is heavily regulated by the kingdom. Without proper registration with the Mage’s Tower, possessing something like this could be considered illegal.”
For now, the soul core of the skeletal horse would remain secured until further discussion.
As the others debated the fate of the skeletal horse’s soul core, Oliver lingered by Kitty’s side, his thoughts racing. This victory had solidified his place among the team, but it also drew unwanted attention. He couldn’t afford to let anyone discover the truth behind his abilities.
Kitty let out a low purr, sensing his unease, and nuzzled his shoulder. Oliver smiled faintly, scratching her under the chin. “I’ll be more careful from now on,” he whispered.