I could feel my magical reserves depleting with each spell I cast, but I wasn’t out of the fight yet. Not by a long shot.

“I need more knowledge. I heard about dark magic and dark creatures used by the mages, but fighting against one is totally different from what I have imagined.”

The moment I focused on the tentacle mage, I started analyzing his movements, his spells, and the flow of his magical energy.

“Every mage has a weakness.”

The shockwave of dark energy he unleashed earlier had given me a clue.

That told me two things: he wasn’t confident in close combat, and he had to channel energy through the ground to amplify his spells.

Perfect.

The next time he slammed his hand into the earth, sending another pulse of dark energy rippling toward me,

I leapt high into the air, avoiding the blast entirely.

While midair, I conjured an energy bolt, and I hurled it directly at him.

He saw it coming and dodged to the right, just as I anticipated.

"Gotcha,"

The instant he moved, I unleashed a weak spirit attack, aiming for his mind.

The translucent wave of psychic energy hit him squarely.

I wasn’t aiming to hurt him deeply—just enough to rattle his focus and stall his movements for a heartbeat.

And it worked.

The mage froze for a split second, clutching his head as if an invisible weight had descended on him.

Without hesitation, I conjured two Energy Darts and fired them in rapid succession.

The first dart pierced his chest, driving him back with the force of the impact.

The second found its mark directly in his head.

Time seemed to slow as the second dart hit.

His eyes widened in shock, and for a fleeting moment, the dark energy swirling around him flickered and faded.

Then, with a sickening thud, he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

I landed on my feet.

My plan had worked.

Looking at his still form, I couldn’t help but mutter,

"That’s what happens when you underestimate me."

I turned my gaze toward Sacril, who was still dodging and weaving around the golden bolt caster.

"One down," I thought to myself, turning my attention to the remaining enemy.

Without his ally, the golden bolt mage was becoming visibly rattled.

I could see it in his movements, the way his attacks were growing more erratic and desperate.

His earlier calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by frustration.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I am sure he is panicking right now.”

Even against bolts that were clearly enhanced with magic for extra velocity,

Sacril danced around them effortlessly.

It was a sight to behold.

I smiled faintly, a flicker of pride in my chest.

“After Sacril learns more and starts to find ways to attack via experience against them.”

“He will be much more important in the battles.”

It didn’t take much to figure out that he was losing control of the fight.

His body language screamed frustration—his rigid posture, the wild flick of his hands as he cast spell after spell, and the growing desperation in his eyes.

The golden bolts were faster than any regular offensive spell I’d seen, almost impossible to dodge for someone slower than Sacril.

If it weren’t for my extraordinary speed and reflexes due to him being a wolf-type magical creature, the mage would have already turned the tide of the fight in his favor.

I frowned slightly, assessing the situation.

Speed isn’t enough to stop Sacril; to truly counter him, you’d need something more nuanced, like a Spirit Attack.

A spell that could interrupt Sacril’s focus, temporarily disable his movements, or confuse him. But this mage didn’t seem to have that kind of arsenal.

He was all raw power and more suited to fight against the human mages, who most likely would not have the capability to escape from the golden energy bolts he uses as his main power.

“Sacril, try to end it.”

Sacril’s ears perked up at my words, and in an instant, his entire demeanor changed.

His eyes locked onto the mage, and his body crouched low, ready to pounce.

The mage’s expression shifted from frustration to outright fear.

"No!" the mage stammered, his voice trembling.

He fired bolt after bolt in rapid succession, but Sacril was too fast.

The distance between them closed in mere seconds.

The mage panicked, abandoning his offensive and turning to flee.

I raised my hand, summoning what remained of my energy reserves.

With a deep breath, I cast Spirit Attack, targeting his mind.

The spell struck him instantly. I saw him stumble mid-step, clutching his head as if an invisible weight had crashed down on him.

His body froze for just a moment, but that was enough.

With a powerful leap, Sacril collided with the mage at full force.

The impact was thunderous, the sheer weight and speed of Sacril’s attack enough to knock the mage off his feet and send him sprawling to the ground.

The mage groaned weakly.

His magical robes were torn and dirtied, and his face was pale.

The physical damage was severe, but what truly incapacitated him was the sheer shock of being overpowered by a creature he had underestimated.

Mages, for all their power, are not built to withstand direct physical attacks.

If it was a Chosen Warrior who got hit, he or she would still take damage but would be capable of counter-attacking Sacril.

But mages were not capable of doing that at all.

Their bodies are fragile compared to warriors or beasts, and a hit like that from Sacril was more than enough to leave this one incapacitated.

I approached slowly.

But as I got closer, it became clear.

He wasn’t dead.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing labored.

Kneeling down, I studied his face.

His eyes fluttered open briefly.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

“Not so confident now, are you?” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

Standing back up, I glanced at Sacril.

“Good work, my friend,”

“You were incredible out there.”

Sacril huffed in response, his tail wagging slightly.

I turned my attention back to the mage.

I couldn’t afford to have him recover and come after us again—or worse, alert others to our presence.

But something held me back from delivering a final blow.

Maybe it was exhaustion.

Maybe it was the small, nagging voice.

“I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.”

Whatever the reason, I decided against finishing him off.

Instead, I used a simple binding spell to immobilize him. Tendrils of magical energy wrapped around his wrists and ankles, securing him to the ground.

“We will take him with us...”

“I want to learn more about everything that is happening.”

“Sorry to say to you, Sacril, but you need to carry me and him.”

Sacril did not seem to mind as he nodded.

“Let’s go,”