Warlock Of The Magus World FF: Dark Lord

Leylin stood before Dorotte, the eerie green flames flickering in the professor's skeletal eye sockets.

The chilling aura of the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy tent surrounded him, yet his heart was calm. A decision like this required no hesitation—power dictated survival, and the sooner he grasped it, the better.

Dorotte had laid his offer bare. A path ahead of the others, a meditation technique before they even stepped foot in the academy, and a repaired magic artifact. Others might promise more, but what use was an offer left to speculation when tangible power was already within reach?

Leylin's gaze didn't waver. His lips curled slightly, and he bent at the waist, lowering his head in a respectful bow.

"Teacher."

A moment of silence followed. Then, laughter erupted from the skeletal figure before him, dry and hollow like bones rattling in an empty tomb.

Dorotte stretched out his bony hand, the green flames in his eyes flickering wildly. "Good! Good! Hahaha! Smart, decisive—yes, you will go far, my disciple."

His robes billowed as he turned, a pleased grin in his voice. "Two fifth-grade talents in a single day… I must be truly fortunate. Leylin, your Magus journey begins."

"Here take this card! Go back and rest. Tomorrow we will proceed with our journey back to the school and I would initiate you then!"

Dorotte took out something that resembled a metal card. Leylin received it and saw that a number '9' was written on it.

"Teacher, what is initiation?" Leylin asked curiously.

"The process of starting Magus journey is called initiation, it in invloes a promise to forever walk in pursuit of truth, a master's acceptance to guide student and student's promise to not divulge his teachings, at last meditation techniques. I would tell you all of this tomorrow, for now go." Dorotte was probably in a good mood as he patiently explained Leylin question before showing him the way out.

"Then I will leave first, Teacher." Leylin respectfully bowed and stepped out of the cold, bone-littered ground of the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy's tent, his fingers subtly tightening over the metal entry card.

The unsettling aura of decay that clung to his robes, the eerie green flicker in Dorotte's skeletal eyes—everything about this place whispered of power and death.

Behind the recruitment area of these academies, there were rows of wooden huts erected, and in the middle, youths of both genders were walking in and out of them. They seemed to be there as the temporary residence for acolytes.

"Hey! Nice to meet you, are you new here?"

Creak!

The wooden door that was numbered '6' opened and an acolyte with red hair and blue eyes walked out from it and greeted Leylin.

"Yes, I am Leylin Farlier. "Leylin nodded unenthusiastically.

"I am Beirut. As for my family background, it isn't very important since it cannot be used on another continent." Beirut ignored Leylin lack of interest and answed with a smile, he seemed to be very amiable.

"Come! Let me introduce you." Beirut headed towards the various fan-shaped huts, "Fellows! We have a new companion."

'What nonsense.' Leylin cranked his neck but didn't say anything, they were his travel companion for at least next six month so he tried to not be too cold.

Several acolytes streamed out from the wooden doors and gathered together. Leylin counted a total of seven or eight people.

"Good afternoon! I am Kaliweir of the Lance Empire, a fourth-grade acolyte." A boy who seemed to have an air of leadership did a self-introduction.

"You seem to be pretty late!" Kaliweir said.

"Yeah, small trouble." Leylin said ambiguously, not wanting to say much.

"I see." Kaliweir looked at the acolytes behind him, "Let me introduce them."

"This is Hancock, a third-grade acolyte!" A largely built Caucasian guy scratched his head in embarrassment, looking simple and honest.

"This is Raynor, a fourth-grade acolyte!" He was a small boy with a skinny build, but there was a tinge of pride in his eyes.

"This is Guricha, a second-grade acolyte! And over there are Nyssa and Dodoria, both first-grade acolytes!" Although Kaliweir had restrained himself, one could still detect signs of disdain in his words.

First-grade acolyte, second-grade acolyte, they could basically only be an acolyte their whole lives so one couldn't blame him for shunning them.

"How...How are you!" Guricha forced a smile and greeting. As for Nyssa and Dodolier, they were both little girls, and some baby fat were still on their cheeks. At this point, they glanced downwards.

Leylin slightly nodded but didn't say anything. He has no interest in trash.

Leylin didn't need to be a genius to understand the social hierarchy here. The acolytes were clearly divided into cliques—those with superior aptitudes at the top, and those with lower grades banding together for survival. And in this group, his place is at the very top.

Before he could dwell on it further, Leylin's gaze caught sight of a lone figure standing apart from the group.

A boy in black robes, his face pale, observed them from a distance with cold detachment.

Noticing Leylin's gaze, Kaliweir's face soured slightly as he explained, "That's Jayden. Our genius of the semester, a fifth-grade acolyte." His words were laced with bitterness.

'A fifth-grade talent, must be the other discipline of Dorotte.' Leylin thought, his expression unreadable.

Kaliweir continued, his voice heavy with resentment. "Becoming a Magus is only a matter of time for him. No wonder he acts so arrogant."

Leylin remained silent, his gaze lingering on Jayden for a moment longer. He could feel the distance between Jayden and the rest of the acolytes—an invisible chasm separating the gifted from the ordinary.

Jayden must have noticed the attention because he scoffed quietly, his expression filled with disdain before turning and entering his hut.

"As a fifth-grade acolyte, his treatment will be the best. Who knows, there might be some professors looking to take him under their wings early!"

The atmosphere grew tense. The third and fourth-grade acolytes wore complicated expressions. They resented Jayden's arrogance but couldn't deny his superiority. The lower-grade acolytes simply lowered their heads, knowing they were far beneath him.

Sensing the tension, Leylin finally spoke, his voice calm. "Hello, everyone! I am Leylin, and my aptitude is…"

He paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build before he casually stated, "…fifth grade."

The moment the words left his mouth, a heavy silence descended over the group.

Kaliweir's eyes widened in shock. "What?!"

Beirut's mouth fell open. Raynor's arrogant expression instantly shattered, replaced with disbelief. Hancock's large hand froze mid-scratch as his face twisted in surprise.

Guricha and the lower-grade acolytes seemed to shrink further, their already-low confidence plummeting into the ground.

Jayden, who had just stepped into his hut, suddenly stopped. His fingers clenched tightly against the wooden doorframe. Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze locking onto Leylin with a sharp intensity.

An eerie silence filled the space.

Then, murmurs erupted.

"Another fifth-grade acolyte? This is insane!"

"I thought Jayden was the only one…"

"Two in the same batch… Unbelievable."

Kaliweir's jaw tightened. A mix of emotions flashed across his face—shock, resentment, and something else… a grudging sense of realization. He was no longer among the top.

Raynor's lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. He had always looked down on the third-grade acolytes, but now, he himself had been surpassed.

Beirut blinked rapidly before laughing nervously. "Ha ha! I never expected this! Leylin, you're really something!"

Jayden, however, remained silent. His pale face betrayed no emotion, but Leylin could see the subtle twitch in his jaw.

Then, with a sharp turn, Jayden walked into his hut, slamming the door shut behind him.

Leylin smirked internally. Insecure.

The bitter resentment of those who had ruled their little kingdom, only to be dethroned. He had seen it before. He would see it again.

Kaliweir eventually forced a strained smile. "Well then… welcome, Leylin."

The words were polite, but Leylin could hear the shift in tone. He was no longer just a newcomer. He was competition.

Leylin met Kaliweir's gaze with an unreadable smile.

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A/N: Please leave comment and review.

In shadows deep where whispers crawl,

A serpent stirs, reborn to thrall.

Once a Dark Lord, feared and wise,

Now in a world where dead men rise.

Leylin walks with cunning grace,

A Magus path he dares embrace.

No prophecy to bind his fate,

Only power—cold and great.

Darkness bends to his command,

A scholar's mind, a killer's hand.

Potions, curses, bloodstained lore,

He'll rule this world in death and war.

No boy who lived, no wand's decree,

No meddling fools to challenge me.

Through bone and ash, through night and sin,

The Dark Lord rises once again.