A circle of blue light appeared before Arthur's hand, shining in arcane brilliance. After forming, Aetherin characters of matching light swirled around the edges inside, making them seem like a whirlpool of ancient script.

As the Aetherin filled in, geometric shapes appeared around strings of characters, sectioning them off from the rest and giving order to the circle. In contrast, other lines of Aetherin disappeared entirely, replaced with new arcane symbols and shapes.

There was no obfuscation in this spell, which shortened its casting time by half a second and allowed anyone quick enough to read its contents. However, it didn't require obfuscation as it was the most commonly found spell on Nithe.

A spark appeared before the circle as a flame manifested from thin air. It grew in size as it rapidly swirled about, creating ominous whooshing noises and giving the small inferno a spherical shape.

Arthur tracked the abyssals movement with his hand, patiently waiting for Foster's attack as the fireball grew. Finally, when the creature was only ten feet away, Foster executed the magic circle he had prepared.

The earth gave way below the abyssals hands right as they made contact with the ground. It was as if a three-foot-deep sinkhole had formed below it, tripping the abyssal and sending it into a catastrophic roll.

The abyssals speed while running on all fours acted as its executioner as loud cracking noises shot out from its body. It sounded as if a tree had begun to give way and fall as many of the long bone spikes decorating the abyssals back shattered and snapped while it tumbled forward.

As its momentum stopped, the abyssal lay on its back, violently floundering to get back to its feet as its head flopped limply due to a broken neck.

Arthur didn't wait for it to recover. Instead, he completed the spell, sending the fireball barreling forward. The moment it was free from his control, he sent the blade hidden within his sleeve behind it for good measure.

He had read that the abyssals mana core lay in the center of their chests, about four inches deep through tough sinew and bone. So that's where he aimed the blade, hoping to end the battle quickly.

The moment the fireball made contact with the abyssals chest, the pressurized flames burst out wildly. Its pale flesh blackened and bubbled as the ensuing inferno incinerated the creature's body.

Yet, despite the critical damage, the abyssal only appeared angrier as it slammed its scythe-like fingers into the ground and attempted to push itself up.

The blade Arthur had shot out was less than a foot from its chest, but right before impact, the abyssal shifted its body, turning itself around and forcing the blade to hit one of the cracked bone spikes on its back. The blade pierced the bone as if it were wax, but only for a moment before it became stuck near the base of the spike.

Arthur tried to free it but realized he didn't have time. The abyssal shot forward and closed the distance to Foster in a flash, swinging its deadly claws at him wildly.

Foster ducked as he swung Arthur's sword toward the abyssals swinging arm, but the thin sword had little weight and only sank a few inches deep before the attack's momentum sent the pair tumbling.

With them so entangled, Arthur couldn't use a spell such as a fireball that would explode on impact and put Foster at risk. However, thanks to his family's specialty in telekinesis, he didn't have access to many spells applicable to the situation.

In hindsight, he regretted not pursuing more spells, but even if he had, his funds were limited, as was his access to such markets due to his age and need for secrecy.

Perhaps he could've spent more effort creating simpler spells instead of focusing all his efforts on fixing the intricate mana soul spell. Yet a few more spells with his limited mana wouldn't amount to much, but if he managed to finish the mana soul spell, he'd have an unstoppable army at his disposal.

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He didn't believe his choices were wrong, even if hindsight left him bitter. So he chased away the useless thoughts as he began to cast another spell.

The pair had come to a halt as Foster struggled beneath the snapping maw of the abyssal. He forced Arthur's sword sideways into the back of its mouth, and once the abyssal realized it couldn't bite down, it immediately lifted its arm, intent on delivering a fatal blow.

Arthur shot out a small boulder from his magic circle just as the abyssals arm descended to end Foster's life. It instantly reached the abyssal, slamming into the bone spikes that adorned its back, scattering bone fragments and sending it tumbling again.

Thanks to the boulder's impact, the blade he had lodged into the abyssals back earlier had pierced through the bone and entered the soft flesh beneath it.

The abyssal appeared aware of its predicament as it shot up and darted toward Arthur, completely ignoring Foster, who was rising to his feet nearby. As it charged, Arthur used his telekinesis to push on the blade, sending it deeper and deeper into the abyssals back.

He could feel the abyssals regeneration in real-time as the flesh surrounding the blade seemed to tighten and fight against its advance. It felt as if its body was healing while simultaneously attempting to remove the foreign object from itself.

As Arthur struggled to force the blade deeper toward its mana core, the abyssal grew nearer, and as it did, his control over the blade grew more precise.

"Young master!" Foster cried out as a magic circle formed before his hand, but it was too late.

The abyssal jumped and opened its mouth, intent on grabbing Arthur with its teeth. Arthur instinctively charged at the abyssal in response before narrowly sliding underneath it as it snapped at him from above.

He questioned his sanity the moment he stopped sliding but was quickly overcome with dread as the abyssal twisted its body, swinging at his flank.

Arthur turned before raising his left arm as if hiding his eyes from the sun and braced for the inevitable impact that would follow. The abyssals scythe-like claws made contact with his left arm, yet the attack didn't shear his arm in two as expected.

Instead, a metallic ding rang out as Arthur's vision twirled while his body rag-dolled a dozen feet away. He rose to his feet as quickly as he could but felt the familiar sensation of pins and needles shooting through his left arm as it limply swayed by his side.

It was broken or dislocated, and the rest of his body wasn't in much better shape. Thankfully, the adrenaline pumping through his system kept him from experiencing the bulk of the pain for now.

As soon as he was back on his feet, the abyssal was already only a few feet away. There was no time to cast a spell, and he couldn't lift his left arm, so using the same trick twice wouldn't work. Facing a shortage of options, Arthur tugged on the blade within the abyssal's chest cavity as if his life depended on it.

It was nearly an inch further from the core than it was just a moment ago, but that didn't matter. He refused to return to that place where his senses need not exist—Refused to be lulled into willingly returning his ego to nothingness.

He desperately pulled on the blade, using all the mana his small core could muster. Yet, despite his best efforts, the abyssal was nearly on him, and he quickly realized there wasn't enough time.

As he raged against his impending demise and forced his mana to the very limit, a thick stone pillar shot up at a sixty-degree angle between Arthur and the abyssal. It collided with the abyssals upper body, abruptly ending its charge and deforming its chest.

With the aid of inertia and Arthur's incessant tugging, the blade within the abyssals chest shot through the creature's mana core, slicing through it the moment the pillar struck.

"I think you might be the youngest person on Nithe to kill an abyssal, kid." Kyren announced as the creature went limp.

Despite the achievement, it didn't make Arthur happy at all. He didn't do it alone; without Foster's help, he would've died ten times out of ten.

"Young master!" Foster cried out as he ran toward him.

Arthur didn't respond. He refused to take his eyes off the motionless creature that had almost ended him. He had seen far too many stories where the heroes defeated the villain only to be attacked while they celebrated.

Whether the same could be said for reality, Arthur didn't know, but he wasn't going to leave it up to chance. So he kept an eye glued to its corpse as he glanced toward Fenric's battle.

The trio of mercenaries appeared to have a flow to them as they fought the remaining two abyssals. Mara and Fenric took turns bursting one down with a constant stream of explosions as Alan dashed around, keeping the other occupied.

Whenever the abyssal chasing Alan lost interest in him, he shot an icicle at its mana core, causing it to defend itself and charge at him in a rage. Yet, despite their efficiency in dispatching the abyssals, they still appeared rather ragged. Fenric especially seemed to have taken some damage, as evidenced by the bloody claw marks on his shirt.

Arthur had no intention of helping. He could already feel the adrenaline wearing off, and when it did, that hit he took would collect its dues.