Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

After the destined one laid claim to the relic of the Laughing God, the Jarnsmrimir with the once-stitched eyes offered his gratitude. His kin had been avenged, and he was now free.

The destined one and the young dragon departed soon after. After all, their journey was far from over. For beyond the snowy island, past the veil that separated the spirit world from the material world, a dark storm was brewing.

As Adam flew through the portal that would lead him to Ravenfell, he desperately hoped that not too much time had passed. Within the spirit world, time worked in mysterious ways. So, it was all a matter of chance.

If he were lucky, he might arrive shortly after he departed. And if he were unlucky…

Adam gritted his teeth as his surroundings turned into a blur of myriad colors, symbolisms and knowledge, and grotesque lifeforms. Finally, he saw the light at the end of the tunnel. It seemed to be a lifetime away from him, yet it arrived before him in a heartbeat.

Before he passed through the veil, he muttered to himself:

I've been cursed with misfortune since the very start of the war. So please… just this once, let luck be on my side.

And then… Adam was enveloped in a blinding light. Soon after, the sound of war thundered in his ears!

***

It had been less than an hour since Adam had disappeared along with the hidden expert of the Cult of Bones.

Since then, a lot of things had changed and the battlefield had shifted dramatically.

Firstly, the armed forces of the city, who had been locked in a losing battle against the cultists, suddenly gained powerful allies in the form of the serpents from the Coil.

With the aid of the serpents, the tides of battle had drastically changed. The Magi in the Market Quarter, who had once been struggling to defend the district from the vile cultists, had now fully established the stronghold. Moreover, the naval battle neared its end, with the city's forces and the Brotherhood emerging victorious.

Thanks to Adam taking away the Mana Core Magus and assassinating several key figures of the Cult before he left, the Downtown Quarter was now on the verge of being fully recovered as well. Needless to say, the Serpents of the Coil played a big role.

With the Councilors of the city gathered together and formulating battle plans, a large number of Ravenfell's powerful Magi, including the Mana Vortex Magi, had gathered under the banner of the raven in the Uptown Quarter. That district, too, was about to be won over.

With nowhere to go, the surviving cultists were fleeing towards the Northern Quarter. The upper half of this district had long since been destroyed by the powerful shockwaves resulting from the battle between Mana Core Magi in the mountain ranges towards the north.

While the lower half of the Northern Quarter would soon become the final battlefield for the Magi of both sides. Under the leadership of the Councilors, the Magi of Ravenfell were slowly but surely directing most of their manpower towards that district.

The battle looked like it was favoring Ravenfell, however, until and unless the Mana Core Magi were done with their respective battles, no one could say for sure who would come out on top in the end.

While the forces of Ravenfell had recovered their morale and were brimming with fighting intent as they marched towards the Northern Quarter along with the serpents of the Coil, the cultists had also received an unexpected windfall.

Felix, the Mana Core Magus, from the Cult of Bones, had returned!

Now, all the powerful Magi of the Cult were rallying around him. After finding their pillar of strength and morale, the cultists were awoken with renewed fighting spirit.

Near the wreckage of the Ravenfell Arena, an elderly man with short white hair and piercing gray eyes could be seen sitting on a boulder. He scanned the faces of the Mana Vortex Magi gathered around him, causing them to shudder under his gaze.

Good, he thought.

None of them can notice any differences. Well, the real test would be to see if Felix's fellow Mana Core-cultists could tell anything amiss.

If there was one thing they could point out… that would be Felix's—or rather, Adam's—mana fluctuations while casting spells. He was a Mana Vortex Magus and couldn't replicate the mana fluctuations of a Mana Core Magus. That was simply impossible to do.

Although Felix's mana signature could be effortlessly mimicked. As long as Adam cast Rank 3 Spells and below, no one would be able to tell the difference.

One more thing he discovered was that using the mask produced no mana fluctuations whatsoever. Usually, when a Magus cast a spell to alter their appearance—or any other spell at all—those with keen perception could sense the mana flow, no matter how carefully it was suppressed.

Shapeshifting with the Faceless Mask did not produce any mana flow, thus preventing others from noticing that a spell had been used. Furthermore, even if one used divination spells to scry information, they would find nothing.

Very handy, thought Adam.

"Is everyone here?" He asked coldly, his voice completely similar to that of Felix's.

"Reporting, my lord!" One of the Magi straightened up, his eyes flashing with respect and fear. "Some of us are still locked in battle in the other districts. It would take some time for all of them to gather."

"No matter…" Felix whispered. "Is this most of you then?"

"Yes, my lord!" The same Magus answered. Then, he asked with slight hope in his eyes. "My Lord, will you… will you be fighting here?"

"You could say so." Felix nodded ever so slightly.

His response elicited a round of cheers from the other cultists. With a mighty Mana Core Magus fighting by their side, what did they have to fear?

"Say, how many Mana Core Magi are participating in this battle?" Felix asked nonchalantly.

The Mana Vortex-cultist frowned slightly. But he answered nonetheless. "Seven, my lord!"

"…Seven, eh?" Felix frowned.

He thought to himself with slight worry, Four of them are fighting in the mountain range up north. Felix is already dead. That leaves two…

One of them has to be the Master. So then, who's the last one?

A terrifying foreboding feeling welled up in his heart. He had underestimated the importance the Cult would place on this battle. Sending seven Mana Core Magi to lead an army of cultists and an undead army was no joke.

But where was the mysterious final Mana Core Cultist?

He had no idea. And that bothered him greatly.

Then, there was another thing…

It feels like I'm forgetting something, he thought to himself with a dark look on his face.

"M-my Lord?" The cultist called out meekly, his face plastered with fear. The other cultists nearby had also paled. Nobody wanted to be around an angry Mana Core Magus, after all.

"Ah, never mind," Felix muttered softly as he rose to his feet. "I'll take it one step at a time."

Then, he slowly started weaving hand seals. There was no haste in his movements at all. This action, however, caused the cultists to frown and feel greatly confused. Yet, they did not interrupt him.

Who in their right mind would want to interrupt a Mana Core Magus?

Finally, after several seconds, Felix cast his spell.

Rank 3 Spell: Amplify Gravity!

In an instant, the gravity in the surrounding area increased by six times. The Mana Foundation Magi were ruthlessly slammed to the ground. The Mana Liquefaction Magi fared only slightly better. Whereas, the Mana Vortex Magus had dropped to their knees.

Their faces turned deathly pale, fear gripping their hearts. Before they realized what was even happening, Felix slowly raised his hand and then coldly muttered in snaketongue:

"Return."

The next moment, a black pillar shot up into the sky above the Market Quarter, then gradually shrank to the size of a two-meter-long staff. It streaked all the way toward the Northern Quarter and landed squarely in Felix's hand.

And then…

A brutal massacre unfolded.