Aren walked through the evening streets of Tevarin, gleefully stealing a glance at his ring as the setting sun reflected in its silvery coils, scattering threads of light across his fingers.

  Even with the mishap during his presentation, he was in a positive mood. Just for today, he decided to postpone worrying about things like the consequences of his discovery or the fact that the end of the world would happen one day.

  The division heads, along with the headmaster and the new archmage, had a short conversation about the vision. However, due to the lack of details and any proof that the darkness was coming anytime soon, they decided not to cause panic and to slowly research the topic alongside the rest of his work.

  The evening air was starting to turn cold as fall transitioned into winter, and he enjoyed the chill while imagining the looks on his companions’ faces when he told them of his success.

  He was heading toward the merchant district of the capital city of Vo’Teol. Situated between the High District and the Academy District, it was only a short walk away.

  The four of them always met when they had something to celebrate. It was a tradition built on the sweat and blood they had shed together since their adventuring days.

  He could have flown to the location, especially since being an archmage removed any restrictions on using magic within the city, but he wanted to take his time getting there. He took in the sights of the most magically advanced city in the world.

  The enchantments that kept the city lit at night activated as the sun dipped below the horizon. At the same time, similar spells illuminated the interiors of most homes with varying intensities and colors. He saw a magic train passing over a viaduct above the street he was on.

  Two guards in heavily enchanted blue armor floated above the roads on magical platforms. Their helmet displays activated their divination enhancements and analyzed him. In a moment they stopped and bowed as he passed. While not every ordinary citizen would have heard the news yet, most government offices and important organizations had a hotline network for such events.

  He wondered what he should model his archmage robes after. He had thought about it before but could never settle on a design that spoke to him. Maybe he should forgo robes altogether and order a magical duelist suit in the style that the nobility had been favoring lately. Now no one could complain if he didn’t dress strictly according to the academy code.

  Aren could ask Leila about it. She had the best sense of fashion among his friends. At the thought of her, a stupid smile crossed his face. With his career goal achieved, he was now ready for the next step in the perfect life plan he had made as a child.

  There had been bumps and turns along the road, but he had managed to mostly stick to it and was sure it would continue to serve as a guide to his success.

  His steps were filled with confidence as he neared the restaurant they most often used for such celebrations. It had been the place where they marked becoming high adventurers and honorary nobles. The last time they met here was when Brennor became the High Commander of the Holy Order of Powers. The paladin was slowly becoming a symbol of the kingdom’s religion through his favor and battle prowess.

  As he entered through the front door, a waiter stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Honorable Archmage, you grace our establishment with your continued patronage. One of your companions has already arrived. May I escort you to your room?”

  “Thank you. Please do,” Aren answered, a sense of pride filling him.

  The interior of the restaurant was made mostly of polished wood and white stone. Enchantments maintained a pleasant atmosphere, keeping the air fresh and filling the room with the soothing aroma of the evening forest. A fire burned in the heart of the hall, reminding him of the campsites they often stayed at during their outings.

  The room he was led to was similar in design, though more ornamented, with a silvery chandelier illuminating the space with crystal bulbs and a living painting on the left wall that shifted through serene vistas as he looked upon it. The large round oak table was already full of refreshments. In one of the chairs closest to the fireplace sat a man tall enough to be considered a giant by most.

  The vice-captain of the royal guard looked at him with an overjoyed smile, probably one of the first people in the capital to learn of the new archmage’s ascension. When he stood, Aren couldn’t help but tilt his head upward to meet the man’s gaze.

  The young archmage couldn’t help but notice that his friend’s short dark hair was already beginning to gray, despite the tall man being only three years older than him.

  “Aren, it’s great to see you!” The giant of a man pulled Aren into a bear hug.

  “You too, Galdren. I’m guessing you heard the news.”

  “The youngest archmage in history! I need to hurry and become captain, or you won’t want to meet up with me anymore,” his friend said, releasing him from the bear hug and clapping him on the arm. The man was dressed in the official suit of the royal guard. Aren was starting to doubt Galdren even owned any other clothes.

  “Hah, if I ever feel like dying of boredom by meeting your high-strung captain, I’ll let you know,” Aren laughed as he sat down. “I didn’t become an archmage just to be saddled with people whose definition of fun is praising their duty and honor all day long.”

  “Well, I won’t deny he’s a little like that. Still, to think that all of our party would advance so far… well, most of us,” Galdren said with a wistful look.

  “We are all deserving of it and able to reach whatever we desire.” Aren spoke with conviction. “Have you heard about the little mess I made?”

  “Yes, although Archmage And’dew has already calmed the king down. After the first report from our little princess, there was quite a panic at the palace. It seems you managed to crush the little crush she had on you.”

  “Well, then maybe some good came of it. I’m not going to let myself be tied down in the middle of royal politics,” Aren said, reaching for the appetizers. The king’s youngest daughter had become a bit of an issue after her coming of age. She was doing everything she could to convince her father to initiate an official courtship with him. Apparently, she had had a crush on him ever since he and his friends were granted their noble titles five years ago.

  “Doubt it. At most, you’ll get a week or two before she starts thinking the prophecy is about you saving the world or something,” Garland said, stuffing his face with a vegetable roll.

  “Maybe she’ll start a religion claiming you’re the prophesied hero!” a female voice boomed from behind him, causing Aren to drop the cheese stick he held.

  “Hah, I was watching the door and still got surprised. Your presence is as thin as air,” Garland laughed.

  “Indeed, some would think you were training to be an assassin,” Aren said. “Your outfit suits you as well as ever, Leila.”

  Leilara smiled at the comment. Her deep scarlet hair was tied into a single bun, and her clothes, balanced between appearance and function, were her staple duelist garb. Not that she didn’t know how to dress up. Tonight, instead of her usual white shirt and brown trousers, she wore an embroidered green jacket, and her sleek black pants were woven from the silk of a shadow arachne. Even her gloves were stitched with fine designs. She had clearly gone all out, and the sight brought a smile to Aren’s face.

  “So we only lack our choir boy,” she said, flopping her long legs onto the table as she sat down, her long epee hanging to the side as always. Her emerald eyes fluttered in pleasure as she reached for a glass of wine first.

  “How is our dear duke?” Aren asked.

  “Eh, same old. Wants to send another frontier campaign. I’m looking for a way to not get roped into it. Timmy is getting good enough to lead it, though. It would be a good experience if he wants to inherit his father's title,” she complained. “Forget about work. Congratulations to the youngest archmage ever!”

  “Thanks,” he said, reaching for his own wine and clinking it against her glass. Leilara was shining as always, and it made him reminisce about their past. “Looking at both of us, it must be hard to imagine that we’re from a rural village anymore.”

  “That may be true. Shame you couldn’t make it when I went home last time. Your mom was complaining about it and drowning me in questions instead,” Leilara grinned. “I told her you are going to marry a princess.”

  “Please tell me it’s a lie. I don’t have the energy to deal with that when I see her next time,” Aren said, feeling like sighing. “Want to go there for the winter solstice?”

  “Sounds good to me. I will just juke the duke if he objects,” the female swordmaster said. She turned to the giant man who was stuffing his face. “Want to come, Gal?”

  Galdren considered as he chewed on a sausage. “Wouldn’t that be something? Newest Archmage, the Sword Queen, and royal guard vice-captain, disappearing from the city for a week during winter festival. People would rumor we went to slay another elder wyrm and its pack.”

  Aren laughed. “Maybe we can trick Brennor into thinking there is some evil cult in the mountain range nearby. The peaks are beautiful during that time of year.”

  “Now we have to go. We will take some of your father's cider, Aren. We will celebrate on the peak of Cloudsplit,” said Leilara. “I’m sure an archmage can keep us from freezing to death.”

  “Cold isn’t the problem. The air up there is so thin people lose consciousness. Not that it’s a problem for me either,” Aren proclaimed. “When we tried to climb it as children with Thomas, we didn’t even get halfway there.”

  “I read a report that Thomas went to Therionia,” Galdren chimed.

  “Not surprising,” Aren noted. “He is an adventurer through and through. Wish we had separated on better terms.”

  Leilara huffed. “He chose his path and dared to call ours a waste of time. I’m sure he plans to die in some forest as food for beasts.”

  The door opened, and a man stepped in, draped in a white robe adorned with a silver seven-pointed star that glimmered faintly with an otherworldly geometry. Golden embroidery traced the edges of the fabric, catching the light with every subtle movement. His golden hair was cut in a sharp mullet, and his blue eyes shone with conviction.

  “Good to see you all hale and hearty. Blessed we are by the Powers,” he welcomed everyone with the Church of Powers’ greeting. They didn’t shake hands. Instead, their palms gripped each other’s forearms. It was customary to grip each other firmly.

  Brennor took it a step further, his hand alighting in golden light as he gripped Aren’s arm. The archmage enchanted his clothes with sorcery, and they held strongly, while he responded with magic, a blue wizard’s hand summoned around his palm. Aren could feel his fingers digging into the paladin’s muscles, but not even a bit of discomfort showed on his face.

  “Simple but effective. I heard of your little stunt, congratulations,” Brennor said as he looked at Aren. Being half a head taller, he had to look slightly downwards.

  “Thanks. The church is not worried about the end of the world?” Aren asked.

  “Be it mysterious darkness that wants to consume us all or another evil cult, we will fight corruption of power and evil all the same. Power exists to better ourselves. If we are found wanting, then we just didn’t work hard enough.” The paladin nodded and greeted the rest of his party.

  The golden arm met a much thinner arm lit with a steel-like aura. Normally, Leilara used her sword-attuned prana to empower her blade’s edge, but since it was originally life energy, it could be used just as effectively to enhance one’s body. They nodded at each other as they pulled back.

  Galdren's body lit with a deep scarlet glow of his chi as he gripped the paladin’s arm. They had a short standoff, as for a second the glow intensified, only for both of them to give up when the floor below them started creaking.

  The vice-captain being a head taller than the paladin grasped his shoulder and laughed, “Never change cousin.”

  “And I see that you are doing well too.” Brennor said as he pulled out a bottle from his robe. “Let’s celebrate. I brought a bottle from the cathedral cellar.”

  “Now we are talking,” Leilara grinned and opened the bottle instantly.

  “They let you take the Pope Leon wine? That bottle must be at least two hundred years old. I heard they used an old kind of grape that no longer existed at the church vineyard back then,” Aren said with appreciation.

  “What’s the point of it gathering dust? I’m sure Pope Leon, blessed be his soul, would appreciate it being drunk in celebration of a new Symbol of Power being born,” the paladin said as the swordmaster filled the glasses gleefully. “Though be prepared for an invite from Pope Alford. I know you are not one for worship, but the believers would be heartened by your presence.”

  “Yes, I was already informed of that. I will go. Just need to think of what to show. Would the first pope's Anointment of Dominion be good?” Aren asked. He wasn’t personally a big fan of faith, but the Church of Power at least didn’t praise some unknowable, unproven beings or ancient beasts. It was more worship of the philosophy that one’s duty was the betterment of oneself, for oneself and for others’ sake.

  “Well, let’s celebrate then!” Leilara said, raising her cup.

  The cups clanked as they congratulated Aren, and everyone released a pleasant sound as the smooth and rich taste of the alcohol filled their mouths.

  “That’s quite good,” said Galdren in appreciation. “Still I would rather drink something stronger.”

  “We should eat something first,” Aren said. “Or should I remind you what you did after emptying the bar last time, before we even got to the main course?”

  “I could use a repeat. It was quite fun to watch him challenging a tree to a wrestling match half naked,” Leilara said with a smirk, already refilling her cup with wine. “Poor ancient oak.”

  “All of you cheat. What is the point of drinking if you flush it out of your system with prana or chi, or cleanse it with holy power or magic?” the giant man complained.

  “If we all got drunk this capital wouldn’t be standing tomorrow,” Brennor chimed in. “Someone has to be the responsible one to keep you in check.”

  “The fact that it could happen makes it a wonder they don’t water down our drinks,” Aren said.

  They continued to drink and converse as the main course started. They enjoyed varied gourmet food and different alcohols. Their conversation, as usual, traveled from complaining about work and lighthearted church dogma to reminiscing about old adventures and mishaps.

  “Hah, do you remember that time Thomas tried to seduce that shaman? We got kicked out by the elders sooner than they could thank us for killing those wraiths, when he actually succeeded,” Galdren laughed.

  Aren laughed as he finished his desert and mentally pulled out a crystal from his backpack. It was slightly different than the others he used during the presentation as it already contained a memory he searched for beforehand.

  “I have a little something here that I thought would be fun to look at together,” Aren said, forming the circles in the air with his wand. All he needed to do was create a viewing plane, so he didn’t feel the need to clear the alcohol from his bloodstream for this.

  His friends looked in interest. “Oh, are you going to show us how the world ends too?” Leilara quipped.

  “No Leila, a true magician never shows the same trick twice,” Aren chuckled as he finished his magic.

  The plane of whiteness shifted into a landscape of fire and smoke. Five people stood facing a giant, mountain-sized, four-legged beast.

  A mage in a scarlet robe, enchanted to protect himself from flame. A warrior in full armor tinted green, a large tower shield in one hand and a large mace in the other, his figure covered in deep red energy. A swordswoman holding her epee, covered in silvery shine as her enchanted leather armor clung to her body. A paladin clad in armor that shined with bright yellow light, a two-handed sword in his arms.

  Finally, there was a man in green clothes, a lyre in one hand and a deep obsidian sword in the other. His clothes, unfit for battle, were hidden underneath a glowing cape, and his long white hair floated freely in the air. He kept his distance and moved fluidly, waves of energy flowing together with his music as he played with his sword arm, enhancing his party members’ prowess and directing the battle, which he overlooked with his raven-like eyes.

  A giant, rounded, armored leg stomped, trying to crush the warrior. The younger Galdren threw himself to the side, barely able to avoid the attack despite his enchanted speed. Brennor used the opening to strike at the creature’s giant shell that covered most of its body, only for his sword, imbued with holy energy, to rebound. His arm shook painfully from the strength of the blow.

  Meanwhile, Leilara moved to the monster’s other front leg and slashed at it with her sword. Despite being able to cut through the rocks surrounding the creature’s body with ease, she was only able to leave a thin gash across its thick, wrinkled skin.

  The beast’s dark, beady eyes looked more offended than pained as it opened its giant beak, releasing a wave of white-hot flames that threatened to overwhelm the frontliners. Before the flames reached the party, a barrier appeared, deflecting the heat as the mage waved his wand, barely finishing the spell in time.

  “Hey, Thomas! I don’t think we can kill it without the weak point you mentioned! Do you see the opening in its shell?” Aren shouted to their arcanist tactician.

  The arcanist bard, without stopping the music flowing from his enchanted lyre, ordered the team, “The exhaust could be anywhere on an infernal shelled worm this size. Fly up and look from above. Leila. Scout below it, but watch out if it tries to slam its body on top of you. I’ll check around it while Brennor and Gal keep its attention. Aren, stay alert for its flame attacks.”

  Aren didn’t hesitate and called upon his elemental and sympathetic sorcery, willing the wind around him to lift him into the air. He kept his wand ready to cast barriers as he surveyed the battlefield.

  He saw Leilara slip under the giant dragon-mutated turtle, while Thomas ran around the monster, enhancing his party. Brennor struck the monster’s head as it tried to turn after the swordswoman. Again, his hand shook as if he had struck a thick wall of steel instead of flesh, but at least this time there was some visible damage from his two-handed sword. Still, it left him in an awkward situation when the beast turned its head toward him and tried to bite while he was still recovering from the rebound.

  Just in time, Galdren jumped in front of his cousin and blocked the beak with his giant tower shield, wedging it between the worm’s jaws. He slammed his glowing mace against its bottom jaw with enough force to crack bone. The beast screeched in anger as it prepared its flames again, only for them to be stopped instantly by a shimmering barrier in the air.

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  Both warriors retreated and braced as the beast attacked with fervor. Despite its giant body, the monster moved swiftly, delivering a side swing with its beak that Brennor barely parried. It followed with another stomp, which Galdren let slide off his shield as he further enhanced his body, expending more energy to endure the colossal weight.

  Another bite was met with a shield of golden energy as the paladin held his hand in front of him and screamed, “Let’s see who is stronger, beast!” Taking a step forward, he tried to push the beast back. The worm’s head tilted slightly upward, only for it to roar in anger and bring its head down again, flames now surrounding the whole of its beak.

  The shield started to crack and threatened to break, but Galdren jumped forward and slammed his shield, shining like a scarlet comet, into the beast’s cheek, turning its head away as it looked stunned for a second.

  “Guys, we can’t keep this up forever!” Galdren screamed as his cousin’s glow waned and he felt his own chi draining rapidly.

  Aren looked around furiously, but there was nothing he could recognize as a weak point. Just as he was about to give up and rejoin his party, he heard a yell from below the monster.

  “Found it! Aren, get here quickly!” Leilara screamed from below.

  Aren dived downwards, slipping below its hind leg, and found Leilara standing a short distance from an elephant-sized hole that seemed to release a constant, searing wind that would severely burn anyone who got too close.

  He nodded to Leilara, who didn’t wait and ran to support the other two warriors as Aren prepared his spell. He drew five interconnected circles with his wand and filled them with formulas corresponding to ice element resonance and vitality-sapping enhancement. He could hear his friends fighting as he pushed all the energy he could into the spell in front of him.

  At first, there was no change. Then something exploded deep inside the beast. He could see the inside of the hole turning to ice as he prepared his second spell. He heard a roar of pain but didn’t stop, and with a wave of his wand, a giant rock slammed into the hole, clogging the heat exhaust.

  Then the beast seemingly had enough and decided to drop down right on top of Aren, who had barely any time to react as he tried to fly to safety. He only managed to get away in time thanks to the swift interference of their arcanist, whose tune enhanced the wind around the mage and sped him up significantly. Ungracefully Aren cursed, as he crashed into the ground and spun a bit, unable to control his flight at such speed.

  He coughed up rocks as he got to his feet. “THANKS!” he said forcefully.

  “No problem,” Thomas said, looking at the beast thrashing on the ground, sending tremors that threatened to trip them as they moved to a safe distance from the monster. “So what did you do beyond our plan of closing the exhaust?”

  “Just borrowed a spell from the Genesis of Ice grimoire. Its insides will turn to ice as it tries to melt it with fire. It uses its own vitalic energies to propagate itself,” Aren explained. “Thought it would let us skip the part where it gets out of its shell and just die.”

  “Scary, you could have informed me,” Thomas smiled.

  “Thought of it while flying around,” Aren smiled, then his expression fell.

  A giant pillar of fire rose around the monster, threatening to burn the sky. The mage began preparing a spell to deal with the heat, which he could feel even at a distance.

  “Is that normal?” Galdren asked, covering his eyes.

  “No, but this worm is also twice as big as normal for its species,” Thomas answered.

  “Truly a worthy challenge to test ourselves,” Brennor said as he uttered a short prayer.

  “Not much choice anyway, it’s only a few days away from a village, and it has been marching straight for weeks,” Leilara added.

  Finally, the flames subsided and the beast emerged. Its shell had turned to lava that flowed to the ground, yet part of its side was covered in ice, constantly shifting from fluid to solid as the spell fought to maintain its structure.

  “Oh well, we managed to anger it properly, it seems. I will cast barriers to protect us from the heat,” Aren said as his spell finished, and each person was covered in a thin film of mana.

  “It should be a bit softer now, at least that’s what happens normally when it’s forced to use emergency heat dissipation,” Thomas said. “Try to wound its throat. We can bleed it out.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Leilara said as she ran forward.

  The whole party followed, and the monster roared in anger as it noticed them. The lava around it gathered as it shot in spheres towards them. Aren’s barriers stopped some of them mid air, while Thomas pulled out a golden trumpet from his cloak and blew on it. A powerful wind rose above them and diverted the remaining balls of molten rocks to the sides.

  “Should it be named Volcano-Shelled Worm at this point?” Galdren asked.

  “It deserves a proper title for the power it showcased,” Brennor said. “Maybe Ascended Magma Worm, the Palmborn.”

  “Firstly, we are above ground, so lava. Secondly, since when do you believe in the fiery palm of Akz’ens?” Aren pointed out.

  “It just seems fitting,” Brennor responded. “Their Grand Shaman can melt mountains as well.”

  “Guys, focus,” their party swordswoman called out.

  Aren responded with sorcery. Gathering energy from his core and attuning it with his elemental resonance, two thick pillars of earth rose beneath the monster’s left legs, tilting it to the side as it released a surprised shriek.

  In response, both the paladin and warrior jumped and hit the monster’s head. This time, the blows connected well, leaving gushing wounds and causing the monster to bleed for the first time. Using this opening, Leilara slid below its falling head and, with her epee, thrust at its throat just below the jaw. The blade pierced deeply, but there was still enough energy in the monster’s thick hide to protect its vital parts.

  “Tsk, I will need to strike the spot again to get through,” the swordswoman said, annoyed at herself.

  The beast, now in a berserker rage, swung its head and stepped backward to get away from the party. Galdren was able to deflect the attack, holding his shield with both hands, and seizing the occasion, their arcanist jumped and pierced the monster’s eye with his obsidian sword. A torrent of blood poured from the monster as the enhancement on the blade activated, and purple veins spread across its face, negative vitalic energies filling it and scrambling its mind.

  The worm roared. The lava on its back shifted all at once and, like an avalanche, surged forward like a tidal wave to consume the offending humans.

  Aren screamed, “Get close to me!”

  He tuned out the outside world and focused on preparing his spell as fast as he could. He drew four circles in the air and weaved elemental sorcery together with his wizardry, slamming his spell into the ground and creating a dome of dark obsidian earth that protected them from both the heat and the weight of the lava above them.

  Despite the thick barrier, they could still feel the air inside growing warmer as the attack passed above them. With another three-circle spell, he raised the earth beneath them, allowing them to rise safely into the air. He dispelled his dome shortly after, letting them see the sea of lava around them.

  “Whew…” Thomas let out a breath. “Good save, but it seems we’re not getting a break just yet. The beast is charging. Aren, create platforms for us.”

  Aren nodded and raised his wand, creating a three-circle formation. Pulling a scroll from his robe, he set it on fire, and his spell multiplied. A formation of walkways and islands of rock and earth formed around them, allowing the party to split and avoid the mountain-sized battering ram.

  Leilara used a movement technique that left a silvery glow in her wake, while a similar red glow trailed behind the warrior as he seemed to teleport from spot to spot. Galdren’s holy aura intensified as it took over his feet, speeding him up to a blur. Aren floated to the side, while the golden ornaments on Thomas’s leather boots shone with blue light as he sped away to safety.

  The beast crashed through two walkways before stopping, finding itself surrounded by the party of adventurers. With its lava armor gone, it was left with only a thin carapace over its gigantic body.

  Brennor didn’t wait and charged, his blade lit with holy aura. He slammed it into the wound Thomas had made, causing another flood of blood to spill as the gash widened.

  The beast reacted quickly. Instead of standing its ground, it charged at the paladin and hurled him into the air with a powerful twist of its head. Aren flew by and using conjured mage hands, caught the paladin, saving him from the untimely demise of being crushed to death.

  As the beast barreled through another set of raised platforms, Galdren slammed his mace into its hind leg, his arm and weapon glowing scarlet as his chi enhanced the strike to a devastating degree.

  The beast twisted as it lost control of its leg momentarily, and its side hit the ground, splashing lava around. Thomas took out a drum, and as he played a melody on it with his hands, the earth came alive. Thick tendrils of earth surged, first in dozens, then hundreds, surrounding the massive beast and stopping its movement as it struggled to recover.

  Not wasting the chance, Leilara jumped from rock to rock over the lava and, with keen precision, stabbed at the beast's throat again. This time, the blade penetrated even deeper, causing a massive avalanche of blood to rain onto the lava. A sizzling black smoke filled the air, releasing a disgusting smell as the blood burned.

  Yet the beast refused to fall and roared a final death cry, as if swearing it would drag them into the afterlife with it. Aren felt powerful energies gathering within the beast and screamed, “Run!”

  He landed with Brennor, next to where the rest of the party had gathered, and quickly created a walkway toward the ground beyond the lava. “It’s doing something massive.”

  Thomas nodded, pulled out his lyre again, and hastily increased the party’s speed as they ran from the beast.

  The worm, noticing their retreat, shifted its magic. Flames appeared around its limbs, and in a final act of desperation, its body began to spin toward them with increasing speed. The threat of a mountain-sized flame-covered wrecking ball loomed behind them.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” Aren swore.

  “Yes, I can see that. Any bright ideas?” Leilara said teasingly as their doom approached.

  Aren’s mind raced as they ran for their lives. He knew he didn’t have time to dig a hole deep enough and couldn’t bring everyone with him into the air. He cursed again, pulled out his wand, and began drawing a five-circle spell. “Jump on my signal!”

  His friends nodded, and Galdren laughed. Aren ignored everything else as he focused on the branch of magic he used least, as even with his talent it was difficult. He had to draw the central formation quickly, as he didn’t have it stored in his mind vault.

  With each step, he could feel the ground below him trembling as crashing sounds threatened to break his concentration. His magic pulsed with effort as he tried his best to remember what each piece of the formation did. He stopped for a second on a piece of the formation and knew it had something to do with rotation but couldn’t remember how it was supposed to be positioned.

  As the monster began to gain on them, he drew the final connecting part of his formation, and as chronotope resonance filled the air, a wide portal opened before them. “JUMP!”

  Everyone jumped and fell into the magical window, a sense of vertigo overtaking them. Their insides twisted and warped, and suddenly they appeared upside down three meters in the air, crashing into undignified poses on a warm ground.

  Aren, gathering himself first, felt his head spinning. Still, he wasn’t the worst off, as it was his own magic. The rest of the party ranged from unconscious to vomiting on their knees.

  The mage looked into the distance and saw the giant worm, a good few kilometers away, stop as its life left it. It released a final cry as his initial magic prevailed, covering the entire titanic beast in blue ice.

  “Glorious! But is that accurate?” Brennor asked. “The adventurers’ guild diviner scanned our memories for their report, and I don’t remember there being anything in it about a flaming, spinning turtle.”

  “We were quite busy running away, and I don’t think anyone looked behind them for longer than a glance. Divination magic can only use a person’s conscious and unconscious mind for its effect. Well, it couldn’t until now,” Aren explained. “This is exactly how the world remembers our fight.”

  “I thought it was some giant fireball chasing us,” Galdren said with a smile. “It was a great sight. I remember how we were rewarded with our titles afterward. Everyone stopped treating me like some useless fourth Baron’s son, and even counts bowed in greeting to me.”

  “It was fun,” Leilara said after finishing her drinks. “It was after that we got saddled with more and more political requests. Thomas left when we spent more time entertaining nobles than actually adventuring. You got tied down with the academy. Gal and Brennor focused on their ladder climbing. Well, the pay and respect now are great, but I sometimes miss those days.”

  “Didn’t you slay a wyrm pack led by the elder alpha this summer with barely rookies for backup?” Brennor said, smirking. “Your blade’s sharper than ever.”

  Leilara glanced at the fire and shrugged. “I guess I’m just sentimental.”

  “Well, I get it,” Galdren said, taking a breath after chugging some wine. “These days I spend more time at ceremonies than actually fighting. The last time I got some proper action was when the king decided to lead the campaign against the orc horde that threatened our neighbor two years ago.”

  “That’s what you get for saddling with nobles,” Brennor scoffed. “Gal, you don’t need to do whatever your father tells you, you know? You’ve outranked him for a while now. And Leilara, I understand you chose to support the Duke to help your village grow, but when your contract ends next year, you should think about what you want to do.”

  “Serving the king is an honor,” Galdren said. “It's the captain's policy not to get involved unless the king calls for it. We could have one or two divisions on rotation to deal with threats outside the royal province.”

  “Won’t he participate in the end-of-year tournament?” Brennor asked. “Win it and I’m sure the king will make you captain soon.”

  “Winning against Captain David. That would be a proper challenge…” Galdren said wistfully. “Anyone here willing to spar with me to prepare?”

  “Hah! Always, cousin!” the paladin proclaimed, pride in his voice.

  “I can drop by to whoop your ass whenever I’m available,” Leilara said, her cheeks already flushed from alcohol. Aren noted her eyes softened, betraying her good intentions.

  Aren looked at his friend, hand on his chin. “Hmm, I guess I could make a training plan for you. I now have access to all of The Muscle Archmage’s notes.”

  “… Didn’t that man wrestle castle boars as training? I don’t know if I have enough lives to survive that,” Galdren said, looking worried.

  “With an attitude like that, you won’t win anything,” Aren teased. “We can start easy. I know of a nesting spot of greater earth bugbears.”

  Galdren didn’t look convinced, but he appreciated the support his friends gave him. They continued to chat and laugh as the three moons reached their peak for the night. With that, they decided to end the celebration, and the two childhood friends found themselves walking through the streets together.

  “So, did you really tell my mom about the royal brat?” Aren said, wobbling slightly. He didn’t want to clear the buzz in his head just yet, as it felt pleasant.

  “Who knows?” Leilara teased as she stepped from stone to stone. “If you duel me I will tell you.”

  “The country’s best sword saint bullying a poor little mage who only lifts pens and stacks of papers. I’m sure the newspapers would enjoy the sales from such a title,” Aren joked.

  “As if you actually lift those papers. I know you, you either levitate them or tell your assistants to do it,” Leilara poked him with her shoulder, then her tone changed. “I know you spend more time going to who knows where for your ‘research’ than staying at the academy. You are the freest of all of us.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m the strongest,” Aren countered. “I saw you in the last tournament. You moved as fast as lightning. It was a truly dazzling display. You won the audience with both skill and beauty. Gal was awestruck as well.”

  “Oh, shut up,” the swordswoman pushed him away. “If we fought fairly, I’m sure you would pull out some crazy spell to turn the tables. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without some option to win.”

  “Well, I was skilled enough to become an archmage. Still, I would need time to cast magic in the first place…” Aren fell silent afterward, and they simply walked together for a while.

  Yet in Aren’s mind, thoughts raced. He had been preparing for this moment for years, each step bringing him closer to the perfect life he had imagined as a boy. He drew a deep breath and finally spoke. “Say, can we talk about something?”

  Leilara looked in his direction, some of her hair hanging loose on her face as it fell from her red bun. “Let’s go somewhere first, we’re close by.” She ran off into one of the alleys.

  Aren shook his head and followed behind, wondering what it was this time. A smile widened on his face as he thought that her impulsive side hadn’t changed, even after all those years and new responsibilities.

  After running through stone-laid alleys and barely keeping up with the fit swordmaster, the young archmage found himself behind an inn. Looking around, he saw a patch of beaten earth, a well to the side, an old stable, and an ancient-looking tree. In front of him stood his friend, holding her epee in a ready stance.

  Aren took out his wand with a solemn smile on his face. “I see. So the duke ordered my assassination.”

  A rock struck his head as he closed his eyes dramatically. “Knock it! This is the place we visited as children to…”

  “Yes, I know,” Aren said, massaging his temple. “We were adventuring as a trio for the first year and went to see the tournament. Afterwards, we pretended to be competitors and sparred together. Though we were sixteen, I wouldn’t call us children.”

  “It feels like it, though,” Leilara smiled, then raised her epee. “I, Leilara the Lightning Blade, shall bring justice and happiness to the lands!”

  Aren laughed. “You are right. We were children.”

  Then she changed her pose, covering her right eye with her hand. “I’m the master of mana, scholar of the Song of Magic; my right eye holds the secret of the world!”

  “Now you asked for it!” Aren said, swinging his wand. “You wanted a duel, you’ll get it.”

  She chuckled and took her stance. They watched each other for a second before an aura of power engulfed them both. Aren cast hasting magic and a perception spell on himself as he pulled out an artifact from his sub-space. A short sword etched with hundreds of runes appeared in his hand, and as he established a connection to his mana core, his sympathetic resonance took over. The sword floated just in time to stop a thrust from a blade clad in a bright silver glow that pierced the darkness.

  Despite his enhancements, he barely saw her take a step before she was upon him. She danced with the wind, her sword turning and striking at him a dozen times within a single second. His artifact managed to block most of the strikes, but he had to place a well-timed barrier to avoid being cut in half.

  “Are you going to just defend? Is that all an archmage is capable of?” Leilara taunted.

  He let himself be provoked. With a wave of his wand, a strong gust of magic pushed them both away from each other. Still, his reprieve was short, as the swordmaster bounced off the ground and a nearby building wall, her blade already on a path to behead him. He let his artifact deflect the blow, drawing mana from his core like a hungry worm.

  He formed a six-circle spell, and as his opponent got past his defense, seven black hands appeared from his wand before his eyes. Yet his opponent didn’t react. One hand grabbed Leilara’s wrist and the other her ankle, pulling her off balance. Still, her instincts were sharp and she instantly switched the sword to her other hand, slashed through the magic, and retreated as she felt more reaching for her.

  He didn’t let her rest, and his invisible hands followed, grabbing at her body. Yet somehow, despite being unable to see them, she managed to avoid most of the attacks. One of the hands managed to grab her short mantle, but it was quickly discarded and slashed through. The rest were dealt with before they even managed to get close.

  “Invisible tricks, yet your eyes betray your intentions,” she schooled him, before jumping back at him.

  He found himself at a disadvantage again as she pressed her attack. He was forced to veer left when his artifact failed to parry a blow, and she smoothly transitioned into another strike. His left leg braced as he did something slightly stupid. With his hand covered in translucent magic, he threw a straight punch at her.

  She tried to bat it aside with her sword, but to her surprise, the magic around his arm exploded, blasting her backward. He used the moment to prepare another six-circle spell. His artifact connected with his wand and transformed. Strands of energy made from pure darkness appeared and wove together, leaving him with a black blade in his hand. With it, his stance shifted as he channeled the knowledge of the swordmaster-archmage who had designed the spell.

  He advanced, now matching the speed of his childhood friend, and with smiles on both their faces, their blades crashed. A shockwave erupted, tearing up the nearby earth and shattering the inn’s glass windows.

  Both of them stared in surprise as an angry, bald innkeeper with a giant axe stormed out the back door.

  “What the hell are you doing out here!?”

  “Ehm, sparring?” Leilara answered.

  “At this hour!” The innkeeper, a former adventurer, glared at the ruined ground and broken windows. “Who will pay for this!?”

  “…I suppose we let ourselves run a bit wild. My apologies, sir. I will compensate you,” Aren said, hiding his ring. It would do no good for it to be known that the newly appointed archmage was already causing trouble for the citizens. “We are adventurers, and we used to spar here a long time ago.”

  The man looked at them both before accepting the offer. “Fine, I think I recognize you. Aren’t you the gal who won the adventurers’ division tournament a year ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hah, well then, your rich mage boyfriend can pay for you, and I’ll forget about it,” the innkeeper said with a nod. “Next time, come drink at my table before you rough up the place, or I’ll show you what this retired axe can do.”

  “You got it, sir,” Aren said, smiling as he handed the man a few gold coins, more than enough to renovate the entire wall of the inn.

  Both of them quickly said their goodbyes and left in a hurry before erupting into a bout of laughter.

  “I think we may still be kids,” Aren said after catching his breath.

  “Indeed. Say, I know you wanted to ask for something, but can I ask for something first?” Leilara asked.

  “Sure, what do you need?”

  “Promise not to laugh,” she demanded.

  He tilted his head slightly but nodded. “I won’t, unless it’s funny.”

  “Bastard,” she said with a smile. “So, we’re slowly getting older.”

  “I can’t deny that time does indeed flow forward, although there are some theories that the flow of time can vary even without the use of magic,” Aren said, projecting his professor persona before it collapsed into a chuckle.

  “Just listen! I’ll listen to your magic jargon later,” she huffed and there was a look on her face that seemed soft and vulnerable. “I think I should start thinking about settling down.”

  Now it was Aren’s turn to be stunned. He stayed silent as Leilara continued.

  “So, I was thinking… Do you think it would be a good idea for me to join the royal guard after my contract ends?” Leilara asked, a slight blush coloring her face.

  Aren’s brain short-circuited. It was the first time he had ever seen his childhood friend blush like this. She looked like a young maiden in love, and his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to Galdren. He didn’t want to believe it.

  “No…” he let out involuntarily, then covered his mouth. “I mean, sorry, I was just surprised. What do you mean?”

  “Well, it would let me spend more time with Gal,” she said, now fully blushing.

  Aren felt as if the ground had collapsed beneath him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how his perfect life plan was meant to go. He was supposed to be the one to confess today, to begin the next phase of his plan.

  “You’re in love with Gal?” Aren asked, hoping he had misunderstood.

  “I think so?” she said, averting her face. “At least I think I like him.”

  “But didn’t you say you wanted a rich, accomplished husband?” Aren recalled an old conversation, still trying to deny what he’d just heard.

  “Isn’t being the vice-captain, and, with our help, soon a full captain, accomplished? Anyway, that was just the talk of a young girl,” she dismissed the words lightly. “I mean, he’s handsome, strong, actually very kind, and he loves animals. He can be a bit silly and clumsy at times, but that’s cute too. Oh, and he even started reading poetry last year and has taken to writing his own. Isn’t that something? I would have never expected it.”

  Aren took an involuntary step back. “Uhm… you must talk a lot without me then. I didn’t know that.”

  “Sometimes we do, when I escort the Duke to the palace,” she said shyly, and Aren wanted to scream. “What do you think?”

  “I think?” he repeated, something on his face must have given him away.

  “Are you okay? Your face is white. Did you drink too much? You should cleanse while you still can. I don’t want to carry your backside to your school,” she said in a joking voice, though she looked a little worried.

  “I’m fine… it was a long day,” Aren said, making up an excuse. “I don’t really know. Sorry, I’m not experienced in such things. You should do what you think is right.”

  “Well, you are my friend,” she stated.

  And that broke him. A low hum of confusion and a note of anger filled his mind. He felt he needed to get away—far away—and soon. He gathered his magic, cleared his mind, and spoke in a voice tinted with slight coldness.

  “You’re right. I’m your friend… You’re right, I’m tired, and this deserves a proper conversation. Let’s meet up in a few days.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s fine. Congratulations again on becoming Archmage. I know how hard you worked for that,” she said with a genuine smile. “I’m free the day after. Tomorrow, I have to do some drills with the squad.”

  Aren nodded but didn’t look at his friend’s face again before quickly disappearing into the night sky.

  A few days later, news of the newest Archmage’s disappearance spread through the streets of the capital.