The sound of the departure horn echoed from outside. Without needing to ask, we all knew it was time to go. Everyone stood up, closing their spellbooks or ceasing their prayers, each with the inevitable tension of the young, untested by war, as they headed towards the door. They glanced at me with disdain, perhaps because of the scent of alcohol, but I didn’t care—if they knew what I had in mind, their contempt would surely be much deeper.
As I crossed the threshold, I felt a bit unsteady, perhaps from having had a little too much to drink, but it didn’t matter. During the flight on the dragon’s back, I had already familiarized myself with the terrain. According to the king, the necromancer was on the mountain, and from what I saw from above, if we set out this afternoon, it would take at least until tomorrow night to reach the foot of the mountain. There would be no battle before then—and by tomorrow night, or perhaps a bit later, I would vanish from this group.
Someone approached from behind and steadied me. Turning around, I saw a young man, a young mage, barely sixteen or seventeen, practically a child, and his eyes were filled with concern.
“Are you alright?” he asked me.
Such a kind-hearted young man was rare, so I didn’t reject his goodwill. I smiled at him and then asked, “I’m fine. By the way, my name is Ryder. And you?”
“Brian!”
“How old are you?” I asked casually.
“Seventeen… no, eighteen! Ryder, are you a real mage?”
“A real mage? What do you mean?”
“Ah… please don’t misunderstand… I mean, have you been officially recognized as a true mage… trained and passed the tests…?”
What an unguarded young man! Perhaps I was the only one among them who truly looked like a real mage. However, considering my age, I was still quite young for the profession, so he wanted to ask me some questions about magic but wasn’t sure if I could answer them, hence his need for confirmation first.
“Haha… there's no such thing as official recognition! I, Ryder, have never gone through any of that!” I’m not one to lie, and what I said was the truth—Ryder indeed had never participated in any certification process.
My voice was loud, and the others heard it. They turned to look at the two of us with contempt. Although I took pride in my profession, I didn’t care about the attitudes of these young men, who were mere pawns manipulated by a few words. They looked down on me, but in my heart, I felt pity for them. I put on a nonchalant face, but Brian blushed immediately.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”
“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Do you have a question for me? Although I haven’t been certified, perhaps I can still answer it!”
His face reddened further, such a shy boy.
“I memorized the spell for ‘Magic Missile,’ but when I try to cast it, nothing happens…” he whispered, barely louder than a mosquito.
“Oh,” I understood. For a beginner, failing to cast a spell was nothing to be ashamed of, but that was only in front of a teacher. Surrounded by peers his age, a young man might find it hard to admit he couldn’t cast a spell. However, he had no choice but to ask, so he approached the oldest-looking person—me.
“Would you mind showing me?”
“Here?”
“Yes, right here! Don’t worry, the king still has some speeches to give before we depart; there’s plenty of time!”
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Several people stopped to watch us. The young man’s face turned crimson, but in the end, he drew out his components and began to cast the spell on a nearby chair, performing complex hand gestures while softly chanting the incantation. I didn’t listen to his chant; in fact, even mages couldn’t understand each other’s incantations since they were strange combinations of sounds. Since he could use magic, he wouldn’t have misremembered the incantation. I focused on observing his entire casting process, as usually, the point at which the spell is interrupted reveals where the problem lies.
He finished the chant, but the missile appeared in his hand for only a moment before it dissipated. Brian looked at me, red-faced, waiting for my response.
I smiled. Despite the amount of alcohol I’d had, I could still spot the issue—this boy hadn’t copied the spell from the book correctly. This was a classic symptom of an incomplete spell!
Just as I was about to offer him some guidance, an unusual noise suddenly came from outside, alerting everyone still inside that something was amiss. The chaotic sound told us all that something had definitely happened.
Everyone inside, including Brian and me, headed outside. The sound of clashing steel and screams turned our hurried steps into a sprint—something unexpected had happened, perhaps even an attack by the necromancer.
What had been a formal formation of soldiers was now a semicircle, facing off against a horde of ogres, no fewer than fifty. These ogres stood at least twice the height of an average human, making them easily distinguishable even from behind the soldiers. They swung their massive spiked clubs menacingly, preventing the soldiers from advancing. I clearly saw that several of those clubs were stained with the blood of their victims—these attackers had already caused some damage to the king’s army.
The soldiers extended their halberds and spears forward, forming a tight formation to encircle these invaders, preventing them from escaping and causing more bloodshed. We mages and clerics stood behind the soldiers, ready to provide support when needed. Due to the dense formation, I couldn’t see the situation on the front lines, but I did see a corpse not far away—a mage’s corpse, with his head completely shattered by an ogre’s club, red blood and white brain matter mixed together in a gruesome display.
Why were these ogres suddenly in the palace? Just as this question crossed my mind, the answer revealed itself: the king and princess emerged from a side door, flanked by several soldiers—including Ethan. It seemed that during the brief skirmish, the soldiers had protected them, and now that the situation had stabilized, they were brought out. However, this wasn’t due to the king’s cowardice, for as soon as he appeared, he walked straight towards the battlefield. The soldiers automatically parted to let him through, and thanks to him, we were able to follow and reach the front lines.
In the midst of the ogres stood a man—a human.
Saying he stood wasn’t entirely accurate, for this human had no legs! His legs were missing from the thigh down, and he stood with the aid of a wooden prosthetic and a cane. His hair was a tangled mess of gray, and his face, marred by countless spots, looked as though it had been melted by flames. His hand, gripping the cane, was skeletal and withered. If there were an award for the most hideous person in the world, he would surely be a contender. Yet, his appearance made it impossible to determine his age.
Despite his grotesque appearance, this man exuded a terrifying presence. Even from a distance, I could sense a formidable power in his eyes—a blend of cruelty and desire. If I wasn’t mistaken, this man was the necromancer who threatened the kingdom.
Behind the necromancer was a glowing, white, rectangular portal, with energy flowing through it like ripples on water. This was a magical “Dimensional Gate,” the reason these ogres had appeared here. To maintain a “Dimensional Gate” for such a long time, this necromancer must be incredibly powerful. His legs likely weren’t lost in battle but were a price he paid for allying with dark forces.
The ogres formed a circle around the necromancer, clearly his subordinates.
“What do you want, Raith? I never expected you to descend from the mountain! I can give you a clear answer right now—so long as I live, I will never relinquish the throne to you!” The king’s response was calm and authoritative, earning my silent admiration. In the face of such a formidable foe, if a king were to show the slightest hesitation, his men’s morale would crumble entirely.
“Haha! Don’t act as if I’m your enemy—I come with good intentions this time. Perhaps we don’t need to be enemies; being in-laws wouldn’t be so bad!”
The necromancer’s laughter was filled with malevolence, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth that only added to his already repulsive appearance.
“I have a proposal to end this tiresome game! Since you refuse to let me seize the throne by force, I don’t mind taking a different approach. Why don’t you marry your daughter to me? That way, we can coexist peacefully, and I’ll inherit the throne after you’re gone…”
This perverted necromancer’s lecherous gaze lingered on the young girl. He was the first mage I had ever seen who had sunk to such depths, utterly depraved. Evil should at least have some dignity, some semblance of grandeur, but his vile desires were a disgrace to all dark mages.