I didn’t even have time to react before a transparent blue wall erupted into existence in front of me, intercepting a barrage of fmes that tore violently through the storm-shed air.

  The heat struck like a physical force, scorching my skin even from this distance—so intense it felt as though I was being cooked alive where I stood, my breath hitching painfully in my chest.

  If not for that barrier, I wouldn’t have died in any conventional sense.

  I would have been erased entirely—no ash, no remains, nothing left behind to prove I had ever existed.

  “What are you doing here, child?”

  The voice cut cleanly through the chaos, calm yet commanding. Only then did I notice the wizard rushing toward me, wrapped in a deep blue robe embroidered with yellow stars.

  His long white beard and hair were whipped violently by the storm as he struggled to keep his oversized hat from being torn away by the wind.

  Even so, my attention refused to leave the barrier that stood between me and oblivion.

  Drawn to it, I stepped closer and slowly raised my hand, pressing my fingers against the glowing surface that had saved my life only moments ago.

  It answered with a gentle hum—a soft vibration pulsing back into my fingertips, smooth and cold like living ice.

  As I let my hand glide across it, pale blue light bloomed beneath my touch, trailing after my fingers before fading back into nothing.

  Beyond the shield, the sky itself seemed to burn.

  The horned figure hovering above prepared his next attack, his massive golden wings spreading wide as fmes roared to life along his horns, growing brighter and hotter with every passing second.

  Above his head, a fireball began to form—at first enormous, like a miniature sun radiating unbearable heat—before slowly compressing in on itself, shrinking and condensing until all that destructive power was forced into a single blinding white sphere no rger than a golf ball.

  It was mesmerizing.

  And utterly terrifying.

  The sheer amount of mana pouring out of it made the air tremble. Though every instinct screamed at me to run, my body refused to listen.

  I stood frozen, staring as the spell drifted forward with dreadful inevitability.

  “Cease, mortal,” the dragon spoke, his voice calm, ft, and utterly indifferent, as though my existence barely warranted acknowledgment.

  He extended a jagged, draconic finger toward me.

  “Distorted Sun.”

  The words settled over me like a death sentence as the sphere began moving toward us—slow, deliberate, and absolute—carrying annihition in its wake.

  I saw the mage in blue sprinting toward me through the storm, fear and urgency carved deep into his weathered face.

  “Get out of there, kid!” he shouted. “You’re going to die!”

  Raising his wand, he unleashed a torrent of lightning that did not descend from the storm above, but erupted directly from the wand itself—raw mana overflowing, crackling violently through the air, mirroring the purity and density of the white sphere advancing toward us.

  “Thundergod’s Edict!”

  Fifteen bolts tore through the sky, converging mid-flight and fusing into a single blinding strike just before colliding with the dragon’s spell.

  For a single, fragile heartbeat, the world went silent.

  Then the old mage reached me, pulling me tightly against him as another spell left his lips in a strained whisper.

  “Celestial Aegis.”

  Golden light enveloped us—thick, absolute, unyielding—just as the collision finally erupted.

  The explosion swallowed everything.

  Light consumed the world.

  Pure. Radiant. Endless.

  Until nothing else remained.

  When the light finally faded, the storm was gone. Clear skies stretched endlessly above, and warm daylight struck my face for the first time since I had arrived.

  “Yooo… that is crazy,” I muttered, staring upward in disbelief. “They just cleared the entire weather.”

  I couldn’t help it. The spells, the interactions, the sheer scale of it all—it was insane. The game design, the coding, the way everything flowed together… it was fwless.

  “You are a fascinating young apprentice!”

  The mage said it in a delighted tone, despite the looming threat still hovering behind him.

  “Why protect such a burden, Zindel?” the powerful creature above huffed, crossing his arms as he gazed down at us with open pride.

  But Zindel ignored him, his ice-blue eyes locked solely onto me.

  “You are something I have not seen in decades—perhaps centuries,” he said, studying me with quiet intensity. “To stand before such high-tier magic without even an ounce of fear…”

  “Uhm… what do you mean, sir?” I asked, bewildered, following the movement of his gaze.

  He smiled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “Curiosity for the unknown is the birth of all magic. Did you know that?”

  I didn’t. Or maybe I did—but the words refused to form. I stood there silently as he lifted his hat and gently pced it on my head, then did the same with his cloak, draping it over my shoulders.

  Then the system spoke.

  You have received a Vanity Set: Zindel’s Garments

  – Archmage’s Cap

  – Archmage’s Cloak

  I felt a brief twinge of disappointment—they were only vanity items—but… free was free.

  So I had no right to compin.

  “You are dooming yourself by protecting this child, Zindel!” the winged being shouted, mana fring violently as he formed a massive spear of pure golden fme in his grasp.

  “You’ve got it wrong, Kindral,” Zindel replied calmly, turning and pointing his massive wand at the draconic king.

  Kindral scoffed, clearly not taking the old man seriously.

  Zindel, however, couldn't look more resolute.

  “This child,” he decred, “will change the world. He is the hope of our future.”

  Water began to drip from the tip of his wand—first a few drops, then a steady stream, then a roaring cascade.

  “Whatever you say, old man,” Kindral growled. “You die now.”

  He gestured forward.

  “Runan’s Give!”

  The name struck my heart like a bde.

  I couldn’t stop a single tear from slipping free. A lord naming a spell after a loyal underling… it was such a small detail, but one filled with meaning.

  Meanwhile, the water pouring from Zindel’s staff began to take shape—coiling, swelling, forming the massive silhouette of a whale.

  “Protect this child,” Zindel intoned. “Oh great spirit—Tidal!”

  The water came alive, shimmering as the colossal spirit let out a roar that sounded like gentle waves crashing against a distant shore.

  The spear and the whale collided instantly. Water vaporized on impact, steam exploding outward—yet the spirit did not falter.

  It swallowed the spear whole.

  As the csh raged, Zindel turned back to me, already weaving another spell. He knelt, pcing his old, rough hand on my shoulder.

  “I entrust my legacy to you, young mage,” he said softly. “Go forth—and change the world of magic, my schor.”

  Bef

  ore I could answer, the world around me began to fade.

  The st word I heard was—

  “Warp.”

  Then I was hurled into an endless bck void.