As the low, warm light of the bar settled around them, Artem leaned back, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he watched Redoran settle into the chair opposite him.
Eris, respectful and mindful of the presence of someone as revered as Redoran, gave him a respectful bow before sitting down, glancing between the two men in expectation.
Artem reached for his glass, raising it slightly in a casual greeting.
“Redoran,” he said,
“It’s been a while since you’ve been around. I heard you were assigned to the human realm, but I didn’t expect you to return with tales of someone... intriguing. Tell me about this Sylas. How’s he managed to attract the attention of someone like you, and are you happy that your mission involves him?”
Redoran took a deep breath, pausing as if gathering his thoughts.
He looked at Artem and chuckled, though there was a subtle edge of unease in his tone that caught Artem’s attention.
“Well, you’re not wrong to be curious, Lord Artem. I can tell you now—Sylas is not just another mage. In fact, he’s... exceptional.”
"A monster perhaps..." Redoran added dazing off.
Artem raised an eyebrow, sensing Redoran’s genuine respect.
"Redoran was a formidable mage himself, one of the most powerful in our ranks. For him to speak so highly of someone he’d only recently encountered was no small matter." Arthem thought and then took a sip from his beer as he continued asking more questions.
“So,” he prompted, leaning forward with interest.
“How powerful is he?”
Redoran leaned back and ran a hand through his crimson hair, exhaling slowly.
“He rivals my power—no exaggeration,
"Lord Artem. If we were to face off, neither of us would walk away alive, I think.”
Redoran’s words landed heavily on both Artem and Eris.
Eris’s eyes widened, betraying her surprise, and Artem couldn’t help but let out a low whistle.
“What’s more?” Redoran continued, “He’s only been a mage for about two to three months.”
The weight of those words sank in, and for a moment,
Artem, who had seen and heard of prodigies in his lifetime, was still visibly shaken by this revelation.
“Two to three months.” Artem murmured, staring into his glass, his mind racing to process the possibilities.
“And he’s already at a level that could rival yours? That’s… unprecedented.”
He looked back at Redoran with newfound intensity.
“What is he capable of?”
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Redoran’s expression grew more serious.
“We were ambushed by the frozen realm,” he said, his voice low but charged with memory.
“Sylas and I were outnumbered by skilled mages—more than twenty at Level three and a few that were dangerously close to hitting Level four."
"The Frozen Realm sent their elite, even including some Frost Elves. It has been one of the times in the last twenty years that I felt my life was in real danger."
Eris, listening, glanced at Artem to see how he was absorbing the story.
Artem’s expression had grown increasingly grave; a battle involving elite Frozen Realm forces and Frost Elves would be a challenge for almost all mages he knew.
"I am an early-level four mage, and I would not have any power to resist such a line-up." Eris thought but kept her silence to listen and absorb more wisdom.
The Frozen Realm was known for their powerful mages, many of whom specialized in potent control and ice-based magic that could drain their opponents’ strength and freeze them in place before striking the final blow.
“And how did he handle it?” Artem asked.
Redoran let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh.
“That’s just it—Sylas managed to hold his own."
"Not only did he adapt to their magic, but he also countered it. When they launched their Ice Spears, he blocked them with a simple release of magical energy."
"And as the battle continued, his understanding and control of magic seemed to sharpen before my eyes. It was as though the sheer threat of death fueled his power, pushing him beyond what I could have imagined.”
“He’s… that adaptable?” Artem’s tone shifted from admiration to fear.
“Yes,” Redoran replied, nodding.
“His understanding of magic goes beyond raw power. It’s as if he instinctively grasps the very nature of the spells he encounters. There was a point where he conjured fire serpents mid-battle—he practically invented the spell in that moment, improvising to overwhelm one of the Frozen Realm mages. A real genius I can say.”
Artem let out a low hum, impressed.
“So, he’s not just powerful but imaginative too. That makes him all the more dangerous.”
Redoran nodded.
“Exactly. And during the battle, I observed his adaptability grow even sharper. It was as if he was gaining insights into magic itself, understanding it in a way that might one day rival our greatest scholars.”
Artem’s mind was racing, calculating the potential implications of such rapid growth. “And the Frost Elves?” he prompted, leaning forward.
“I’ve heard they’re some of the frozen realm’s most formidable fighters, skilled in spells that can drain or immobilize their enemies. Did they try anything?”
Redoran grimaced slightly.
“Indeed, they did. A Snow Elf, in particular, stood out. She was a powerful Level Four mage, nearly at her peak. When she recognized me, she smiled and vanished, leaving us to handle the situation alone. They activated a sacrificial summoning circle that released the Origin Frost King, a beast with nearly absolute control over ice.”
Eris, who had been listening with awe, almost choked at the mention of the Origin Frost King. Even she, as an enforcer, had heard stories of the creature—a monster of ice magic capable of freezing entire battlefields and bending blizzards to its will.
“And yet…” Redoran continued, a glint of pride in his eyes.
“Sylas and I managed to defeat it. Together, we tapped into a combination spell—Sylas’s Orion Fire and my control magic. But Sylas, he’s a strange one, Artem. When the smoke cleared, he didn’t seem surprised or shaken by the experience. Instead, he gathered the Origin Frost King’s remnants, as if he’d been planning for it all along.”
Artem looked at Redoran, sensing the reverence and perhaps even a hint of jealousy in his voice.
He understood that Redoran had seen greatness in Sylas, something beyond raw power. He’d seen a potential rival, perhaps even an equal.
“So, this is what the human realm has produced,” Artem said, leaning back thoughtfully.
“If Sylas continues to grow at this pace, he could very well surpass even our most gifted mages.” He paused, his fingers drumming lightly on the table.
“Do you think he’ll remain aligned with us? Or will he chart his own path?”
Redoran shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Sylas seems focused, driven by some internal purpose I can’t quite decipher. He has a vision, I think, something beyond our typical ambitions for power or glory. He’s different, and that difference makes him... unpredictable.”