Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

South of the city, across the sprawling farmlands, a vast cloud of tenebrous mist continued to shift from one location to another. However, as if having a mind of its own, the dark cloud steered clear of the city. Wherever it passed, the land slowly corroded away.

Inside the darkness, flashes of light continued to appear from time to time. One moment, they would appear at the edge of darkness, the next, they would reappear all the way on the other side, over a hundred meters away.

In a second, light would flash close to a dozen times. It looked like a dozen lighthouses had appeared in the middle of a stormy, dark sea, only to disappear the next moment like a fleeting mirage.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the flashes of light stopped. All that remained was the ever-shifting tenebrous mist.

Headmaster Marcus Blackwood and Elder Marden Benton stood a few dozen meters apart from each other.

The former was clad in dark robes, a cape that seemed to be woven from countless raven feathers billowed behind him. His face was cold as ice, and his dark eyes showed hints of fatigue. In his hands, he grasped a silver longsword that was stained red with blood.

On the other side, Mardnen wore pale robes. There were countless cuts all over his body, cutting through his clothes and flesh. Blood pooled beneath his feet, yet he remained standing as straight as an arrow. In his hand, he grasped a black blade, its edges chipped from battle.

Despite having his figure riddled with scars, Marden had a faint, confident smile on his face. "Headmaster," he said, "I'm quite surprised at your level of swordsmanship, to be honest."

Blackwood's face was indifferent, but his dark eyes gleamed with a flicker of grim resolve. Although his opponent might have looked to be in a pretty sorry state, the truth was far from it.

And Marden's following actions further proved that.

With a simple one-handed seal, the blood that had pooled beneath the cultist's feet gradually slithered back into his wounds. Then, the wounds healed themselves at a startling pace, the flesh knitting back together until Marden was whole again. Only the shredded fabric of his robes betrayed the ordeal he had endured.

The man was no different than an undead creature, except… he was very much alive!

"…And I did not expect you to be a practitioner of blood magic," said the Headmaster. "Tell me, traitor. Why not practice necromancy like the rest of you vermin?"

Marden displayed a 'hurtful' expression. "A traitor, eh?" He smiled bitterly. "I suppose that's what I am to you—"

His words got stuck in his throat when the Headmaster suddenly disappeared from his spot. In a flash of black light, the elderly Magus arrived right behind Marden, his silver long sword raised high.

And then… he delivered a vicious downward slash.

Blackwood felt the blade slice through flesh, muscles, bones, the lung, and then… it passed through empty air and settled on the ground. Immediately after, a long wedge was formed through the farmlands, running deep for more than a mile like a ghastly scar etched on the earth.

The ground trembled violently as the shockwaves of the sword slash rolled across the lands. Blackwood couldn't help but frown deeply. He flicked his blade, wiping the blood off it, then turned around.

In the distance, Marden stood with the same faint smile on his face, the wound on his shoulder and chest regenerating at an alarming rate.

Just a little more… and Blackwood would have sliced through the traitor's heart.

Alas, Marden was too fast, too skilled, and too good a combat master. After all, he was able to last an entire night of battle against an old monster such as Marcus Blackwood—one of the most powerful Magi of Ulier. Moreover, his proficiency in blood magic made him all the more dangerous.

The traitor of the Benton Family ignored the Headmaster's underhanded tactic. He even ignored the rapidly healing wound on his chest that had been dangerously close to killing him. Instead, he continued where he left off.

"You see, Headmaster, being a necromancer in the Cult is a dangerous bargain. To take that path is to hand the Lord direct dominion over your soul. Of course, someone like me, who prefers freedom above all else, could never accept such chains. So, instead, I chose the study of blood magic.

"But do not mistake me, the Lord's grasp still lingers, though far weaker than the necomancers suffer. And truthfully… I could never stomach the stench of corpses. No, necromancy was never my fate. From the beginning, I was destined for something else… destined to be free."

Towards the end, his voice trailed off, and he turned his head towards the blurry silhouettes standing behind him. His eyes flickered with hints of madness, then… they suddenly narrowed.

Blackwood's sword came hacking down at him, ready to sever his head. But at the last moment, Marden was able to perfectly parry the attack and escape with some minor injuries once again.

In the next second, the two exchanged almost a dozen blows. But every time, Marden was able to somehow slip out of mortal danger. And the wounds he received were healed in no time.

The same was true for the damage that the tenebrous cloud dealt to his body. This dark mist was supposed to slowly corrode his flesh and leave him for dead. But from the beginning of this battle, Marden had been constantly healing himself, rendering the black mist useless.

One could even argue that Marden's magic was the perfect counter to Blackwood's!

Still, the Headmaster did not get impatient. He continued to fight, trying to understand the traitor's weakness. It wouldn't take long for him to deal with him. At the very least, if he couldn't kill Marden, he was certain of driving him away.

He looked at the cultist, who was whispering something under his breath, as if… talking to someone, and said, "And so your Lord ordered you to slaughter your family to prove your loyalty. Is that it?"

Marden's brown eyes gleamed with madness. "I told you… their deaths served a glorious purpose! But yes, you're right… that was part of the reason, I suppose."

"And how does that feel?" Blackwood's lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes flashing with fury. "Knowing that the spirits of your family will haunt you forever? Something tells me they already do."

"…Shut up," Marden muttered coldly, readying his blade for another clash.

And just before they were about to attack one another…

BOOM!!

Berger's Divine Meteor obliterated a large section of the Northern Quarter. The two Magi were momentarily startled. Marden couldn't help but turn toward the city with a stunned look on his face.

And it was right at that moment…

Blackwood appeared before him like a specter and swung his silver long sword.

Slash!

With a dull thud…

Marden's severed head fell to the ground.