SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

The two men stood in silence for a moment longer before Neron straightened, pushing off the wall.

“We should get going. Missions won’t wait for us.”

Legris nodded, stepping forward and extending a hand. “Good luck out there, Neron. Make sure you come back in one piece.”

Neron clasped his hand firmly, a rare smile crossing his face. “You too, Legris. Don’t do anything reckless.”

They released their grip, stepping back from each other.

“See you on the other side,” Legris said as he turned to walk away, his steps confident and purposeful.

“See you,” Neron replied, watching his friend disappear down the hallway.

As Neron turned to leave, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The path ahead was dangerous, but he knew they both had what it took to see it through.

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself a moment of hope.

*********

~BOOOOOOMMMM!!!~

The chamber rumbled, the sound of crumbling stone echoing as the last of the massive Golems and Puppets fell to pieces.

Shards of enchanted metal and glowing runes scattered across the floor, their faint glow fading into darkness.

Neron wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, his breathing steady despite the sheer intensity of the battle.

“You’ve got to admit,” Karlia said, flipping her long hair back and smirking as she surveyed the destruction, “they really don’t hold back with these trials. That was a good workout.”

Neron cast her a sidelong glance.

“Good workout? You nearly brought the entire room down with that last spell. We’re lucky the Arcana wasn’t damaged.”

Karlia chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What can I say? Destruction is one of my specialties.” She gestured toward the floating card at the center of the room, its ethereal glow casting soft rays of light across the rubble.

“But I think it’s safe to say we’ve earned our prize.”

The card hovered in place, untouched by the chaos surrounding it.

Its surface shimmered with shifting patterns of gold and crimson, radiating an almost tangible aura of power.

Neron could feel its energy from where he stood—a steady, overwhelming pulse that seemed to resonate with his very soul.

Together, they approached the Arcana, their footsteps echoing in the now-silent chamber.

“[Strength],” Neron murmured, his eyes fixed on the card. “It’s… incredible.”

Karlia stopped beside him, her arms crossed as she studied the glowing relic.

“No kidding. This one feels… different. Even compared to the other Arcanas we’ve retrieved.”

Neron nodded, his gaze never leaving the card. “It’s probably one of the primary Arcanas, which makes its power is leagues above most of the others.”

Karlia nudged him with her elbow, breaking his reverie.

“Well, don’t just stand there gawking. You did most of the work this time. Go ahead—claim it.”

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, his hand outstretched.

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The closer he got, the more the card’s energy seemed to envelop him, wrapping around his body like a warm, invisible current.

“You sure about this?” he asked, glancing back at Karlia.

“Of course,” she said with a grin. “Besides, I’m curious to see what happens when someone like you touches it. Go on, Neron. Do the honors.”

He turned back to the card, taking a deep breath. With a steady hand, he reached out and grasped it.

The moment his fingers made contact with the surface of the card, a surge of energy shot through him, so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees.

His vision blurred, colors and shapes blending together in a kaleidoscope of light and shadow.

“Neron?” Karlia’s voice sounded distant, like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel.

He couldn’t respond.

His body felt weightless, his mind consumed by the overwhelming force coursing through him.

Images flashed before his eyes—scenes of ancient battles, towering figures clad in golden armor, and the unyielding strength of a dark entity that defied the heavens.

The energy intensified, filling every corner of his being.

He felt as though he were on the verge of breaking, yet at the same time, an undeniable sense of power began to take root within him.

And then, everything went silent.

Darkness. Light. A single heartbeat, resonating with the force of a thousand storms.

Neron stood frozen, the Arcana still clutched in his hand, his expression blank as he stared into the void.

“H-huh?”

He had no idea what had just happened, but the fact that he was holding the Arcana meant that everything had worked out.

The card had accepted him.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

******

The corridors of the Nether Cult’s stronghold were eerily silent as Neron and Karlia made their way toward the central chamber.

The Arcana of Strength rested securely in a reinforced containment sphere in Neron’s hands, its potent energy still faintly pulsing through his fingers.

He kept his expression composed, though his thoughts churned with the memory of the trial they had overcome.

Karlia walked beside him, her usual smirk softened into something less teasing.

“You handled that well,” she said after a long stretch of silence.

“Handled what?” Neron replied without breaking stride.

“The Arcana’s power,” she clarified, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “Most people would have passed out—or worse—after touching it. But you just… took it in stride.”

“I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice,” Neron said flatly.

“Failing wasn’t an option.”

They entered the grand chamber where the Cult Leader and several other high-ranking members awaited.

The veiled lady in white stood silently behind the young-looking leader, her presence radiating an unspoken authority.

“Ah, Neron. Karlia.” The Cult Leader’s voice was soft, almost melodic, but it carried an undeniable weight.

“Welcome back.”

Neron stepped forward and knelt, offering the containment sphere.

“The Arcana [Strength] is yours, Leader.”

The young man leaned forward in his ornate chair, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

“Well done. I knew you would not disappoint.” He gestured for the attendant in white to retrieve the sphere.

“With this, we grow ever closer to our goal.”

Karlia spoke up, her voice carrying a faint edge of pride. “The trial was tough, but we managed. Though I’d say Neron deserves most of the credit.”

The Cult Leader’s gaze shifted to her, his smile widening slightly. “I’m aware of your capabilities, Karlia. And I trust they were instrumental in this success.”

She chuckled, waving a hand. “Flatter me all you want, but we both know Neron’s the golden boy.”

Ignoring her comment, Neron cleared his throat.

“You mentioned before that another team had been sent on a mission. Has there been any news?”

The Cult Leader leaned back in his chair, folding his hands as his smile faded.

“Ah, yes. The Fairy King returned not long ago. He was successful in retrieving an Arcana as well, though at a cost. One of his subordinates… perished during the mission.”

Karlia’s playful demeanor vanished, her expression darkening.

“A loss like that isn’t easy. Even for him.”

Neron nodded solemnly. “And what of the team sent to investigate the uncertain location?”

His voice was calm, but a faint tension underlined his words.

The room grew heavy with an unspoken gravity. The Cult Leader’s expression turned grim, and the veiled lady’s gaze dropped slightly.

“They are dead.”