The cave where Isaac had trained now radiated an entirely different aura. The runes etched on the walls glowed with golden light, pulsating with energy that filled the confined space. The air trembled, heavy with the surge of power flowing effortlessly through Isaac's body. Standing at the center of a magic circle, his eyes closed, Isaac raised his hands, guiding the mana now fully obedient to his will. Sweat dripped from his brow, but a faint smile touched his lips. “Finally… I’ve surpassed my limits,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, yet it echoed through the cave with quiet triumph. Ben, sitting in the corner, stared at Isaac wide-eyed, struggling to believe what he was witnessing. “Isaac, you… you did it! But…” His voice wavered, tinged with fear. “Is this power really safe?” Isaac opened his eyes slowly, their irises glowing with a crystalline blue light that reflected the golden brilliance around him. Lowering his hands, the magical aura around him faded, though the l

Heavy rain poured down on the ruins of an old cathedral on the outskirts of town, where Isaac stood in the middle of a room with a cracked floor and a ceiling that was about to collapse. Lightning occasionally illuminated his determined face, his black coat dripping with water. In his right hand, he held a worn ancient text, while a small obsidian skull-shaped artifact hung from his waist. "The first step begins here," he thought, staring at the text in his hand. "If I can open this portal, Karron will have nowhere to run." Suddenly, loud footsteps sounded from behind. Isaac turned, his eyes sharp as a hawk's. A man in a gray robe with a hood that covered most of his face stood in the doorway. The man, the mysterious informant, slowly approached. His face was briefly visible under the flash of lightning—pale, with a scar running across his right cheek. "You're late," Isaac said coldly, his tone intimidating. "I have no time for games." The man chuckled, his tone sarcastic. “My i

The sky above Avalon Academy hung gray. A thin mist lazily rolled between the old stone towers, blurring the edges of the garden and making footsteps echo hollowly through the halls. Inside the professors' meeting room on the upper floor, the fire in the large hearth crackled faintly. The scent of burning wood mingled with the aroma of black coffee and fresh ink.At the long round table cluttered with stacks of magical documents, seals, and half-empty porcelain cups, a tense atmosphere loomed thick.“Whose child is he, really?” scoffed Professor Kael Renswick, flicking dust off his overly neat green robe. His silver glasses reflected the dim light, hiding his sharp eyes.“Elowen, do you really want this academy to be run by a boy without noble blood?” he continued, twisting the end of his mustache.Professor Elowen Mireille straightened her back. Her silver hair cascaded elegantly, her blue eyes calm and glowing.“Kael, you saw the exam yourself. No noble could manipulate an ancient ma

Gerimis turun perlahan di atap gudang tua, yang kini menjadi lokasi pertemuan rahasia Isaac. Di dalam, suasana dipenuhi ketegangan halus, diterangi oleh cahaya redup lentera ajaib di dinding bata. Empat sosok berdiri terpisah, masing-masing memancarkan aura misterius yang terasa berat di udara.Isaac, mengenakan jubah hitam dengan tudung yang menutupi sebagian besar wajahnya, berdiri di tengah ruangan, dengan lengan disilangkan. Matanya yang tajam mengamati setiap wajah, mencoba memahami maksud mereka."Mereka semua menyimpan dendam, tetapi apakah itu cukup untuk membuat mereka dapat dipercaya?" pikir Isaac, napasnya teratur dan terukur.Seorang pria kekar dengan bekas luka di lehernya melangkah maju, suaranya serak. "Mengapa kami harus percaya padamu? Banyak orang datang dengan janji-janji, hanya untuk memanfaatkan kami demi keuntungan mereka sendiri."Isaac menatapnya, tanpa ragu. "Aku tidak meminta kepercayaanmu, Rogar. Aku menawarkan kesempatan untuk menghancurkan musuh yang telah

Di sebuah desa yang hancur di tepi tebing, dengan langit kelabu yang menggantung rendah. Asap tipis masih mengepul dari pendingin, meninggalkan aroma terbakar dan kesedihan yang tertinggal di udara. Isaac berjalan perlahan, jubah hitamnya berkibar tertiup angin dingin. Tatapan tajam dan postur tubuh yang tegak memancarkan aura seorang pemimpin yang tak tergoyahkan. "Kekuatannya tidak bisa dibangun sendiri," pikir Isaac, matanya mengamati sekeliling yang suram. "Aku butuh sekutu, bukan sekedar alat. Mereka harus cukup kuat untuk bertahan hidup, tapi tidak terlalu pintar untuk melawanku."Di tengah-tengahnya, Isaac mendengar suara samar yang berasal dari bangunan yang sebagian runtuh. "Tolong...siapa pun..." Dia mendekati sumber suara itu dan mendapati seorang wanita muda, baru berusia dua puluh tahun, dengan luka di lengannya. Rambutnya yang merah gelap kusut karena debu dan darah, tetapi matanya berkilauan dengan kekuatan tertersembunyi. “Seorang penyihir,” gumam Ishak sambil berjo