The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays filtering through the dense canopy of the Magic Beast Kingdom's vast forests.
The air shimred with energy, a testant to the ancient power that coursed through this land.
At the heart of a secluded clearing, Neron stood, his body drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.
"Haaa… haaaa…"
He adjusted his grip on the shimring card in his hands—[
The Tower],
one of his Arcanas.
Its weight was no longer a challenge, its intricacies no longer a mystery. Over the years, he had forged an unbreakable bond with it, mastering its every nuance until it felt like an extension of his very soul.
He had also mastered the rest—[The Sun], [The Hanged Man], and his personal favorite… [The Hermit].
His Original Magic perfectly synchronised with the power of [The Hermit], allowing him to perfect its power.
"Hehe…"
A slight smile tugged at his lips as he surveyed the aftermath of his training.
Craters marred the once-pristine clearing, trees were felled in every direction, and the air was thick with the remnants of his imnse Mana.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with satisfaction.
"Not bad at all."
He recalled the first ti he had wielded the Arcanas.
Back then, they had felt like an insurmountable challenge, their power far beyond his ability to control.
But now, after years of relentless effort, he had not only mastered them—he had made it his own.
In a sense, they were all various kinds of Original Magic to him.
All of this ant one thing to him.
"I've gotten stronger."
As he walked back toward the grand palace of the Magic Beast King, his thoughts drifted.
The kingdom had beco his sanctuary, a place where he could train without interruption or distraction. The Magic Beast King had taken him in without hesitation, offering both guidance and protection.
Yet, despite the few years he had spent here, a part of him remained tethered to the Eastern Kingdom.
'I'm 17 now…' He thought to himself. 'Isn't it about ti I returned?
He rembered the day he had asked the King to send spies to monitor the Eastern Kingdom.
At the ti, he couldn't bring himself to return.
The mories of his past life there, the people he had once cared about—it was all too much.
"I'm not ready," he had told the King, his voice heavy with regret. "Not yet."
The Magic Beast King had understood, his wise eyes conveying a depth of empathy that Neron hadn't expected.
Without question, the King had sent his most trusted scouts to gather information.
Now, as Neron approached his quarters, he wondered if it was finally ti to face what he had left behind.
He had grown stronger—strong enough to face the challenges that awaited him.
Or so he hoped.
The palace was a marvel of nature and craftsmanship, its walls ford from living trees and glowing crystals.
Neron stepped inside his room, a modest but comfortable space that he had co to think of as ho.
He sank into a chair, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.
He hadn't heard much from the spies lately, but the fragnts of information they had brought back painted a grim picture.
Political unrest, escalating tensions between races, and whispers of an erging Demon threat.
"A world on the brink of war," he murmured, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on his furniture
.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Enter," he called, straightening in his chair.
The door opened to reveal the towering figure of the Magic Beast King. His presence was commanding, his golden mane shimring like sunlight.
Despite his imposing stature, his eyes were kind, filled with a wisdom that spoke of countless lifetis.
"Neron," the King said, his voice deep and resonant. "May I sit?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
The King took a seat across from him, his expression uncharacteristically somber.
"I bring news," he began, his tone grave. "The situation in the Eastern Kingdom has worsened. The spies you requested have reported back with troubling information."
Neron's heart skipped a beat. "What kind of information?"
"The tensions between the major races have reached a boiling point. Humans, Elves, Fairies, Beastfolk, Dwarves, and even the surprising return of the Demons—each faction is preparing for war. The scale of this conflict… it's unlike anything the world has seen in centuries."
The room seed to grow colder as the King spoke.
Neron felt a knot form in his stomach, his mind racing to comprehend the enormity of what he was hearing.
"A World War," he said softly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.
The King nodded.
"Indeed. And it will be devastating. Entire kingdoms could be wiped out, countless lives lost. If it cos to that, the world may never recover."
Neron leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He had trained tirelessly for years, honing his strength and mastering his Arcana. But was he truly ready for sothing of this magnitude?
"I know what you're thinking," the King said, his voice cutting through Neron's thoughts. "And I won't pretend to understand the weight you carry. But you are stronger now than you have ever been. If anyone can make a difference, it's you."
Neron t the King's gaze, his resolve hardening.
"I can't stay here," he said. "Not while the Eastern Kingdom is on the brink of destruction. It's ti for to return."
The King's expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "I knew you would say that. And I will support you in any way I can."
"Thank you," Neron said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.
"We plan on remaining neutral in his war and keeping our identity hidden… but we will be here if you need us."
"Thanks."
"Don't ntion it." The King nodded. "It's the least we could do after all that Lilith and even you have done for us."
A small smile ford on Neron's face.
The Magic Beast Kingdom was now allied with the Dragons and the other neighboring Kingdoms.
Their prosperity was unlike anything in tis past.
All thanks to Neron.
The King rose, placing a hand on Neron's shoulder. "Rember, Neron: the strength you've gained here is not just for yourself. It's for the world. Use it wisely."
Neron nodded, his determination burning brighter than ever.
As the King left the room, he turned his attention to
his Arcanas as they shimred with a faint light.
"Ti to go ho," he whispered, his voice resolute.
"I hope everyone is well…"
*
*
*
[End Of The Vagabond Arc]
~We have finally reached the final stop of Part 2, which is Arc 4… or Volu 12 of Spellcraft.
Prepare for The Final Spell Arc.
Cheers!
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