“If I can apply Blood Veil to Red Globes… and then make the Red Globes smaller…”
A slow grin formed on my lips.
The thought excited me.
I had already experimented extensively with Red Globes, pushing their shape, range, and power.
But one of their main weaknesses was their obvious presence.
A normal Red Globe was larger than a human head, radiating bright crimson light and fluctuating with raw energy.
It was impossible to use them for stealth-based combat.
But…
If I could shrink them down—perhaps to the size of a baby’s fist—and apply Blood Veil to them at the same time…
I would have a silent, invisible, and deadly magical assassination spell.
My heart started beating faster at the implications.
A hidden execution technique.
Enemies would never see it coming.
It would allow me to launch untraceable sneak attacks from a distance, catching opponents off guard without them even realizing they were under attack.
I leaned forward slightly, muttering to myself.
“A concealed red-globe, smaller in size, wrapped in Blood Veil…”
It was possible, but it wouldn’t be easy.
Blood Veil was already a complex technique that required precise magical control.
If I tried to layer it over a Red Globe, I would have to stabilize two spells at once one that concealed energy and another that actively summoned and controlled a destructive force.
That kind of multi-layered casting required a level of simultaneous concentration that I hadn’t mastered yet.
But that didn’t matter.
It was only a matter of time before I figured it out.
I took another deep breath, pacing slightly across my room, my thoughts racing.
There were two main obstacles I needed to overcome:
Shrinking the Red Globe – Normally, its size and power were proportional. Reducing its physical volume might decrease its overall destructive force.
Applying Blood Veil to an external object – Blood Veil was a self-inflicted curse. Using it on a separate floating magical construct was something I had never attempted before.
I exhaled, shaking my head.
“First things first let’s start small.”
I extended my palm, channeling magic into my fingertips.
With practiced ease, I summoned a Red Globe, feeling the familiar heat as it formed just above my hand.
A bright sphere of crimson energy, pulsating like a living heart, hovered before me.
I focused my will, trying to compress it.
Smaller.
The glow flickered.
Tighter.
The sphere trembled, resisting the change.
But then, slowly very slowly it began to contract.
From the size of a human head
To the size of a melon
To the size of a grapefruit
And then, finally—
A sphere no larger than a baby’s fist floated in my palm, burning softly like a dying ember.
My grin widened.
It worked.
It was smaller, but it still carried the same dangerous energy within it.
The heat it emitted was far more concentrated, and I had to be careful not to let it explode prematurely.
I clenched my fist, dispersing the magic.
Now came the real challenge.
Applying Blood Veil to a separate, external object.
I summoned another baby-sized Red Globe, letting it hover just above my palm.
Then, I took a deep breath.
“Blood Veil.”
The familiar crimson aura flashed around me, but this time, I focused all of it on the Red Globe instead of my body.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then
The sphere dimmed, its bright crimson glow fading into near-invisibility.
I watched in awe as the Red Globe became a dark, pulsing shadow, its energy completely muted from detection.
Even though I could see it with my eyes, my magical senses told me that it didn’t exist.
It had become silent, untraceable, hidden.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
This…
This was lethal.
A stealth-based magical projectile—small, invisible to magical detection, yet just as deadly as a normal Red Globe.
I clenched my fist again, dispersing the spell as I laughed softly to myself.
“This is going to be dangerous.”
I could already imagine it.
Assassinations from the shadows.
Lethal attacks that no enemy could predict.
A new way to kill.
A new level of power.
I sat back down, my mind racing with ideas.
There was still more work to do.
But for now, I had proven that it was possible.
I would keep refining it.
And when the time came—
No one would ever see my Red Veil Globe coming.
-
The sky above the unknown grasslands was darkened—not by clouds, but by the chaotic flashes of magic as two forces collided in battle.
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On one side stood the mages of Freedom of Amber, their banners marked with the sigil of a golden sun, shining defiantly in the midst of war.
On the other, the Morningstar Act, cloaked in shadow and resolve, fought with the desperation of those who refused to bow to noble rule.
There was no hesitation.
No diplomatic words exchanged.
Only war.
The moment the two groups caught sight of each other, spells were unleashed.
Bolts of fire, lightning, and ice tore through the battlefield,
Explosions erupted.
Summons emerged from magical circles—stone golems, spectral wolves, and flaming spirits rushed into combat, slamming into enemy lines with devastating force.
This was not a skirmish.
Each side had brought over two hundred mages, and none of them held back.
-
Fire mages sent waves of flame across the field, turning the grass into a burning inferno.
-
Wind mages countered by creating tornados, scattering fire and knocking enemies back.
-
Ice mages froze opponents in place, while lightning mages turned the frozen bodies into shattered corpses.
At the rear, support mages worked tirelessly.
-
Healing mages moved between the injured, pouring their magic into wounds, desperately trying to save as many as they could.
-
Earth mages erected walls and trenches, creating defenses to slow the enemy’s advance.
But despite their efforts, people kept dying.
The grassland was drenched in blood.
Corpses littered the battlefield, many still smoldering from magical burns or twisted unnaturally from spell impacts.
And still, the battle raged on.
Three captains of the Morningstar Act stood near the battlefield's edge, watching the fight unfold.
One of them, a dark-haired man with a cold gaze, exhaled sharply as he surveyed the carnage.
He turned to the second captain, his voice laced with grim understanding.
"This is just the beginning," he said. "The real war hasn’t even started yet."
The second captain—a tall, bearded man—said nothing. He only nodded, his eyes fixed on the slaughter.
The first captain continued.
"Right now, only mages are dying. But soon…"
"The cities will burn. And ordinary people the commoners will die along with them."
A heavy silence hung between the captains as they watched their soldiers their comrades fall one by one.
On the opposite side, the leaders of the Freedom of Amber watched the battle with equal intensity.
A woman with silver hair and piercing blue eyes crossed her arms, eyes narrowing as she analyzed the enemy’s movements.
She turned to a battle-scarred man beside her.
"They’re more organized than we expected," she muttered.
"We can’t let this turn into a long-term war. We need to break them here."
The man grunted, eyes filled with years of battlefield experience.
"Easier said than done."
He pointed toward a group of Morningstar Act mages casting synchronized spells, combining fire and wind magic to create a devastating flaming cyclone.
The silver-haired woman scowled.
"Damn them. We need to fall back and regroup."
She raised a hand, sending a blue signal flare into the sky—a sign to pull back and reform their defensive line.
Neither side could afford to retreat completely.
Neither side could afford to lose.
The battle raged on, with mages collapsing from exhaustion, only to be replaced by fresh fighters taking their place.
Spells collided.
Explosions deafened the battlefield.
And above it all, the war had only just begun.
Both sides—the Morningstar Act and Freedom of Amber—suffered losses, and yet, neither had won.
It was just one battle.
One of many to come.
And as the dead were collected, as the wounded were carried away, everyone knew that it would start again soon.
Not tomorrow. Not next week.
Perhaps in mere hours.
The war had spread its roots deep into the continent, and with each passing moment, the chaos only grew.
While the grasslands bore witness to grand battles, the cities and towns had their own skirmishes.
These were not large-scale fights between hundreds of mages.
Here, battles were fought in the shadows.
In the streets, in alleys, in the silent hours of the night.
Small groups—teams of five or ten mages—hunted each other through dark corners and narrow roads.
One moment, the streets were quiet.
The next, an explosion shattered the silence.
Buildings trembled.
Windows shattered.
Fires lit up the night sky.
And yet, life continued.
The ordinary people—the ones who had no stake in this war—tried to live through it.
Tried to ignore it.
Tried to survive it.
Somewhere in a small town, in a house no different from any other, a mother sat beside her two children—a boy and a girl, no older than five or six years old.
Their little bodies trembled, their small hands clutching at her dress as they stared at the ceiling, listening to the distant explosions.
"Mama, what's that?" the little girl whispered.
The mother smiled.
"It’s just the rain, my love."
The boy looked up, his wide eyes filled with doubt.
"But it doesn’t sound like rain… It sounds like—"
"Thunder," she interrupted. "It’s just a storm. Nothing more."
She pulled them closer, holding them tight, trying to shield them from the truth.
The truth that their world was falling apart.
That war had come to their doorstep.
That no home was truly safe anymore.
A few steps away, standing near a small window, the father watched the night unfold.
His face was tired.
His eyes were hard.
In one hand, he held a cigar, taking a slow drag as he gazed at the faint glow of flames in the distance.
The town wasn’t on fire.
Not yet.
With a sigh, he exhaled a thin stream of smoke and turned to his wife.
"We can’t stay here much longer," he said, voice low but firm.
She looked up at him, her arms still wrapped around their children.
"Where would we go?" she asked. "This is our home."
The father took another slow drag from his cigar before replying.
"Somewhere hidden."
He turned back to the window, his grip tightening.
"Somewhere unimportant. Somewhere no one cares about."
His wife stayed silent, looking down at her children.
She knew he was right.
The war wasn’t going to stop.
It would only get worse.
And if they stayed… they wouldn’t survive it.
Beyond their home, beyond the town, the night raged on.
This was no longer a war of two factions.
This was a war that had dragged in everyone—even those who wanted nothing to do with it.
The father sighed again and took a final drag of his cigar before putting it out.
Tomorrow, they would leave this place.
They had to.
Because no place was truly safe anymore.
-
Marsil - Pov
I closed the book and leaned back in my chair, taking a deep breath as I digested the information.
The books I had bought were proving valuable, especially the one detailing magical creatures and monsters that roamed the continent. It helped me understand the Amorans more, but my real focus lay elsewhere.
The three spells I had purchased cost me one hundred grams of magic stone—a price that some might call excessive, but I knew better.
Spells weren’t just tools.
And among the three, the one that caught my interest the most was
Mark: Sensing.
I held the thin parchment that described the spell’s properties, tracing my fingers over the ancient symbols.
"A simple but effective tracking spell," I muttered to myself.
Mark: Sensing worked by marking a solid surface—stone, wood, even metal. Once placed, the mark would become invisible to the naked eye, undetectable unless someone had stronger magical perception than the spell itself.
Once activated, the spell would extend its influence in a 500-meter diameter, constantly feeding me information about any movement within that area.
It wasn’t omniscience, but it was the closest thing to having eyes everywhere without being physically present.
Every spell had weaknesses, and Mark: Sensing was no exception.
-
I could only maintain five active marks per day.
-
If I placed a sixth mark, it would automatically replace the first one.
-
The mark lasted one week, meaning if I set my marks wisely, I could have constant surveillance over multiple areas.
I rubbed my chin, thinking about the tactical possibilities.
If I placed these marks in key locations entrances, rooftops, isolated alleyways I could detect potential threats before they got close.
And if I were to combine this with Blood Veil, I could move undetected while keeping track of enemies without them ever knowing.
A small grin crept onto my face.
This spell wasn’t just useful—it was a game-changer.
I stood up from my chair and walked to the wooden floor, kneeling down as I focused my energy.
Taking a deep breath, I whispered:
"Mark: Sensing."
A faint, crimson glow pulsed from my fingertips, and in an instant, it sank into the wood, disappearing from sight.
The room felt no different, but I knew the spell was active.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the mark’s range.
Slowly, my mind expanded outward, as if I had grown an extra sense—a presence that extended into the room, detecting subtle movements, the shifting of air, the faint vibrations of the walls.
I could feel Sacril’s presence near my bed.
I could sense the footsteps of people outside my door, wandering through the inn.
I could even pick up the distant chatter of guests downstairs.
The realization sent a thrill through me.
This spell worked exactly as I had hoped.
Now that I had successfully marked the room, I wanted to test its range.
I grabbed my cloak and stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me.
As I moved down the corridor, I focused on the connection to the mark.
50 meters away… the spell still held.
100 meters away… still active.
By the time I reached the entrance of the inn, I was well past 200 meters, yet I could still feel the mark’s influence.
I smirked to myself.
This will be useful.
I returned to my room, removing my cloak and sitting back in my chair.
If I used this spell effectively, I could set up an invisible surveillance system.
I could track people without ever being seen.
I could watch the watchers.
And the best part?
No one would ever know.
With a deep breath, I let out a small chuckle, running a hand through my hair.
"This is only the beginning," I whispered to myself.