《The Beasts of War》


 Introduction: The Second Arcane War

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    <h2 style="text-align: center">Introduction</h2>


    The Second Arcane War


    The world is at war!


    Its once lush fields of emerald grass and tranquil meadows now lie as dust-strewn wastelands filled with the burnt husks of tree trunks and its earth pockmarked with deep craters. All signs of the verdant lands they once were have been erased, replaced with a deathly silence, only broken by the mournful howling of the wind and the distant cries of carrion crows.


    Scattered across this desolate land sits the signs of a great and unnatural battle, as if the elements of the world themselves had gone to war. Sharp stone spikes pierce the ground, electricity faintly sparks between metal rods across muddy puddles, bombs embedded into the ground still emanating a chilling frost around them.


    Yet things in this lifeless no man¡¯s land rarely stay quiet for long. For beyond the distant fog comes a rising rumbling, trembling the dirt and stone, while the slowly escalating growls of mechanical engines rise.


    Through the thick mist, the silhouette of a colossal war machine begins to materialize. A pair of heavy treads churn through the swampy mud, supporting a thick armored frame crowned with a large shielded turret, pointing out a long imposing cannon, whining as it slowly rotates and scans its surroundings.


    A Juggernaut¡ªan armored titan of war¡ªrolls forward daring any to oppose it.


    And from behind it another emerges, followed by one more. Pushing beyond the fog, their colors start to show. Painted with a regal red and gold, and a plate-like shield welded onto the front of the turret. Their forms eerily reminiscent of a gallant armored knight atop its barded steed, yet more cold and inhuman in nature.


    But the Juggernauts are not alone. Hidden within the destruction of the battlefield they move toward, something watches them approach. Footsteps clamor and shadowed forms begin to bear their long firearms towards the approaching threat from within their trenches, long muzzles begin to poke out of the holes of well-hidden bunkers, all while someone loads an glowing red shell into the breach of a long, heavy cannon and peers into the sights aimed at one of the approaching juggernauts.


    In a single moment, the silence is broken.


    First a whistle, then a deafening explosion as a glowing red bolt streaks through the air and pierces straight through the front of one of the advancing juggernauts. As it bursts into flames, its heavy turret catapults into the air before dropping back down with a thud into the mud.


    The world explodes with color.


    From their trenches, the soldiers slice through the air with neon slugs¡ªprojectiles of burning energy in different hues of freezing blue, electrifying gold, and searing crimson¡ªlighting up the haze of smoke and dust. And the Juggernauts take no time to retaliate. The chain guns spit a barrage of glowing slugs while their cannons unleash thunderous blasts, sending shockwaves that rattle the ribs and blur the senses. Each impact leaving scorched holes or blossoming into thunderous eruptions.


    Yet the Juggernauts continue forward, the barrage of smaller slugs ricocheting harmlessly off their thick steel armor, doing little more than cracking their glass sights and obscure their view as they push forward.


    But the juggernaut''s crew are reminded of their mortality as a large bolt strikes their armor. A reverberating clang ringing within, as the juggernaut¡¯s armor barely deflects a blow that likely would have spelled their doom had it been more precise.


    So within the cramped, metallic confines of the juggernaut, the commander shouts an order and the gunner responds by grabbing hold of a nearby lever and pulling back with a determined purpose.


    As though spreading from the soldier¡¯s touch, a bright orange energy courses through the juggernaut like blood through its veins, illuminating the inside and shining through every seam in the warmachine¡¯s armor. It hums with the unmistakable sound of a charging power as that energy forms within its cannon until it reaches a blinding zenith and lets loose its cannon with an even louder roar.


    Though the bolt slams into the ground right before its would-be assailants, embedding itself into the ground with little effect.


    For a moment one would think the round to be a dud.


    Until the ground begins to rumble.


    Then shake.


    Then abruptly crack wide open as earth erupts, tearing the entire opposing trench line asunder.


    The other juggernaut follows suit, charging with a different blue energy before firing a round through the gaps of a bunker. Moments later, ice begins to burst forth from within¡ªfreezing tendrils spreading with unnatural speed, encasing the unlucky inhabitants in solid frost.


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    With the lines broken, a commander''s whistle rings out through the air. As if apparitions, waves of soldiers materialize out of thin air, giving a rallying cry that echoes across the battlefield as they charge into the breach.


    These are not just any soldiers; these are Mage Soldiers.


    Clad in crimson, gambeson-like armor, bearing golden pauldrons, and red helmets with gilded facemasks obscuring their visages. At first glance, these soldiers may look like medieval warriors, but their weaponry and gear tell a different story.


    For, in each of these soldiers¡¯ possession is a slugger¡ªa long rifle-like firearm with rotund muzzles, each bearing a round magic gem inserted into its base, shining a different color for each soldier.


    They charge forward, unleashing a barrage of neon slugs¡ªraw, magic-charged projectiles that give the slugger its name. And when greater power is needed, they slot a rune-etched cartridge into the weapon, steady their aim, and fire.


    At the pull of the trigger, the runes glow brightly, floating in the air for a brief moment before focusing their arcane energy back into the weapon. A fireball hurtles into enemy lines, stone walls rise from the ground to shield against incoming fire, and magnetic pulses disarm foes, scattering their weapons in chaos.


    Each mage soldier, trained in their own specialized set of spells, each contributing a unique expertise to the battlefield.


    And their arcane mastery doesn¡¯t stop there.


    Mortar crews rain shells that explode into razor-sharp gusts of wind, medics stitch wounds closed with glowing magic scalpels, and Juggernaut crews channel their spells directly into their machines, turning them into versatile engines of destruction.


    Back and forth slugger bolts fly across the battlefield, punctuated by the continuous flare of sparking spells. The entire display is as beautiful, and mesmerising as it is deadly and chaotic. The entire battle scene, just a small part of a greater ongoing battle with the combat lines spanning miles and combatants in the hundreds of thousands.


    Even the skies are not spared. High above the battlefield, the clouds flash and quake, lightning illuminating the darkened nimbus.


    Through the chaos, a colossal shadow emerges¡ªa Flying Fortress.


    Like a massive whale breaching the waves, the massive steel craft rises from the clouds, held aloft by powerful air magic. Its hull bristles with rotating turrets and flak cannons, manned by mage soldier aviators, ready to unleash devastation.


    Following in pursuit, a swarm of nimble, aluminum-winged Airobirds streak through the sky.


    Their crystal-powered engines scream behind their pilot¡¯s cockpits as rotors push them at incredible speeds. The lightning flashes from earlier, reveal their source: elementally charged guns firing from the smaller aircraft.


    Like piranhas, they swarm the Flying Fortress, pelting it with streams of bolts and electrified spells that spark and dance across its steel hull.


    But the Fortress is no easy prey. Its many turrets erupt with firepower, filling the skies with bolts and explosions. Lacking the precision to strike their agile attackers, they overwhelm with sheer volume. The resulting storm of flak and magic forces the Airobirds to weave through a dazzling display of chaos that would put any firework display to shame.


    As more reinforcements arrive, the dogfight intensifies. The mage soldier pilots twist and turn around each other in an effort to get the upper hand.


    Their arcane skills shine as one slices through wings with a stream of pressurized water, while another creates a swirling cyclone in its wake to throw off a pursuer. Yet danger is ever-present. A single misstep or stroke of bad luck sends pilots and their aircraft plummeting like fiery comets into the seas far below.


    But even in those dark, endless oceans, danger still looms.


    Where once sailors dreaded the gnashing teeth and clutching tentacles of sea monsters of the deep. Now, their nightmares are born of steel¡ªfor a new apex predator now rules above the waves.


    A Leviathan¨C¨Ca towering warship and the pinnacle of arcane engineering power¡ªcleaves through the tumultuous waves with ease.


    Adorned in red and gold, with shield-like plates reinforcing its superstructure, the Leviathan resembles a castle adrift on the ocean. Massive twin-gun batteries dominate its silhouette, dwarfing the mage sailors below.


    Slowly and steadily, its massive weapons track their targets. When the turrets fire, it ripples the air and churns the waves as mighty bolts arc across the horizon, striking at distant targets barely visible against the sea.


    From the high tower of the bridge, a stoic captain and his command crew steer the battle. The dark room hums with the glow of flashing monitors and the rhythmic beeping of arcane sensors. A lookout¡¯s urgent shout pierces the air, and the command crew looks just in time to see the faint blue glow of a torpedo slicing through the water.


    Moments later, it strikes into one of their escort ships.


    Crystalline ice explodes on impact, massive icicles piercing the hull and triggering a series of eruptions that send the ship lurching violently.


    Determined to strike back, the captain barks his orders. The intercom sputters to life, its warbling static carrying his command through the sterile, steel halls where the crew springs into action.


    Within the belly of the beast the crew responds. Deep in the Leviathan¡¯s magazine, they haul massive shells, loading them piece by piece into the narrow elevator. Gears grind as the ammunition ascends, runic charges glowing brightly as they are mechanically attached. Crystal engines hum to life as they are calibrated with precision. The shells are craned into their barrels, the turret commander signals readiness, and the bridge gives the order.


    The turrets roar with the fury of gods. Twin shells launch skyward, streaking as blazing crimson bolts. The air vibrates as the bolts combine mid-flight, their resonance activating the projectile''s powerful spell.


    Flames erupt as the projectiles form into the shape of a flaming phoenix, wings spread in flight. With a piercing screech, it lights up the sea, exploding in the air above its targets. The resulting scene an apocalyptic hellstorm as flames engulf the seas.


    Across the land, sea, and sky, countless lives are consumed in a grand struggle as immense industrial powers clash on a scale never seen before¡ªturning the arcane into weapons of ruthless efficiency and engulfing the world in a total war from which there is no escape.


    This is the age of the Mage Soldier.


    This is the Second Arcane War.

 Codex #1: The Legend of the Beasts of War

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    <h2 style="text-align: center">Codex #1</h2>


    The Legend of the Beasts of War


    Long ago, before the world was scarred and humanity took shelter beneath the earth, there was war¡ªunrelenting and total.


    It spread across the entire world, wiping away civilizations and leaving only ruin. Battles raged on every front¡ªagainst invaders, the unknown, each other, and even oneself. The skies darkened, monsters clawed their way from the depths, and reality itself began to unravel.


    From the chaos, they arose¡ªthe Beasts of War.


    Born of tragedy and forged in conflict, they struck fear into the hearts of men, monsters, and gods alike. Six demigod beasts, neither fully mortal nor divine. They waged their own wars, their destruction so great they were likened to natural disasters. So powerful, they were said to even be able to alter fate itself.


    The White Wolf, Beast of Light, could turn the brightest day into the darkest of night. Cunning as it is reckless, inspiring others to follow it into impossible battles doomed to end in disaster.


    The Scarred Raven, Beast of Wind, soared across the world, its winds carving through mountains and ripping the breath from one¡¯s lungs. Ever trailed by an endless storm of misfortune.


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    The Traitor Serpent, Beast of Water, ruled the seas, freezing or boiling them at will. Ever shrouded in a fog mystery, it betrayed even its closest allies in pursuit of its cryptic end goals.


    The Mad Tiger, Beast of Lightning, wielded electricity with blinding speed and ferocity. Brilliant yet paranoid, it hid within a shifting labyrinth of metal, striking down all who threatened its twisted mind.


    The Zealot Ape, Beast of Earth, raised mountains and carved canyons with every step. It fought with relentless fervor, demanding the same from all who followed, else they suffer its own wrath.


    The Frenzied Dragon, Beast of Fire, burned with such fury that forests turned to ash and stone melted into rivers of molten wrath. It sought to burn the world in hateful vengeance for wrongs long past.


    As the world teetered on the brink of annihilation, those who remained united in a final battle to end the war. In a clash said to eclipse all before it, the Beasts of War were brought low and sealed away, scattered across the world, never to be seen again.


    But peace came too late. Arcane storms consumed the surface, twisting the land beyond recognition. And so, humanity fled underground, waiting for the day they might reclaim their home.


    Yet legend warns that should war once again engulf the world, so too shall the Beasts of War rise once more.


    - Myths and Legends of the Pre-Emergence Age, Vol. 3

 Part 1: The War Comes Home

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    Welcome to The Beasts of War!


    <u>What is The Beasts of War?</u>


    The Beasts of War is a multimedia story set within a fantasy version of World War 2, following the story of Damian Vearez, a teenager attempting to follow in the footsteps of his war-hero father, as he is cursed with power and thrust into a war beyond his reckoning,  in this exciting tale boasting climactic showdowns, epic battles, wholesome young love, heart-wrenching drama, and plenty of fun, lighthearted moments in between, in an exciting story that will constantly keep you guessing what will happen next.


    This story is my pride and joy. One I''ve been crafting in my mind in some form or another, since I was a little kid. It¡¯s no exaggeration to say I¡¯ve taught myself to write, draw, and animate entirely to bring this story to life in the best possible way I can. And after several years of study and private attempts at rewrites, I finally believe I have the skills to bring it out to the world. Hopefully it gives you the same enjoyment as I''ve had imagining it.


    <u>Multimedia? What''s that mean?</u>


    I am not just a writer, but a decent artist and animator as well. I''ve learned all this with the single-minded focus of bringing this story to life in the best way possible¨Cand perhaps stand out a bit while doing so.


    That means this webnovel includes author-made illustrations and a few animated GIFs as well (used in a way that don''t intrude on the core writing, of course). I¡¯ve been practicing for a while to make sure I can deliver quality art and storytelling on a reasonable time frame..


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Furthermore, it is my long-term plan to eventually make full animations as I slowly attain the necessary assets and models needed to do so over the course of writing and drawing this webnovel.  This is more of a long term plan though and until most of the first book is done I will be focusing on the webnovel and writing as the priority.


    <u>


    How the schedule will work</u>


    (Extra note: I''ve decided to participate in the April 2025 Writathon. This means illustrations will have to take a backseat until it''s over, but part one''s story will be done faster. I will try to use what designs I have as placeholder art for now. I''ll return to previous chapters later to add art retroactively so excuse the lack of it on some of the latter chapters for now.)


    I will be aiming for weekly releases once the initial batch of chapters is out. The chapters themselves are meant to be episodic in nature and are going to be longer than many other webnovels. This means they will be split up (at natural transition points) in order to make the reading experience easier and to give me time to actually keep up consistent releases.


    Unfortunately, I can''t be too assured of the schedule as I am still new at this content creator stuff, and will need some time to get my bearing. I also still need to work a full-time job, and even with spending all my free time on this project, I only have a few days to work on it a week. Please be assured that I would never quit on this project entirely, and though I may slow down, little more than my untimely death would prevent me from continuing it to its planned conclusion.


    If you enjoy the story and want more, faster, please consider donating and subscribing. Every bit of money I get will help me spend more time writing and making art, and help me achieve my dream of doing this full time.


    Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the adventure!

 Chapter 1: Hero

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    <h2 style="text-align: center">CHAPTER 1</h2>


    <h2 style="text-align: center">Hero</h2>


    A conflict of unparalleled proportions has overtaken the world.


    From the rich golden shores of the Solar Dominion, to the harsh icy peaks of the Treviet Union, beyond the towering jungle cities of Umaja Republic, and spanning the mystic flying isles of the Nagarashi Shogunate, the ever-creeping tendrils of war spread across the world leaving few untouched by its trail of chaos and despair.


    The massive scale of industry has clashed with the wonders of magic in a deadly union that has changed the world forever.


    Long gone are the days of gallant knights charging forth clad in enchanted armor or wizened wizards spending decades mastering spells and incantations. Now powerful magic can be mass produced in the thousands, loaded into a simple handheld slugger and fired in a matter of seconds.


    This is the age of the Mage Soldier.


    This is the Second Arcane War.


    And it is on the western continent of Skyfell where an age-old rivalry between north and south has once again reached its breaking point.


    From the snowy northern mountains march the vast hordes of the Treviet Union.


    Its countless mage soldiers descend upon the south like an endless wave. Bolstered by vicious monsters, and led by powerful Channelers who subject their bodies to unpredictable magics¡ªthey seek to plunder the lands of the south just as their raider ancestors did long ago.


    Rebuilt stronger than ever after its defeat in the First Arcane War, its new ruler¡ªthe Frost Empress Annaliese Romanova¡ªcommands her subjects with a frozen fist. Unsatisfied with her rule over her already vast domain, she intends to succeed where her predecessor failed, and bring the south to heel.


    It is only through the courage of the brave Mage Soldiers of the Solaran Dominion that the rich, sun-swept lands of the south are protected from their advancing enemies.


    Through courage, training, and superior magical engineering, Solar¡¯s mage soldiers push back the invaders from the north. For the Solaran Dominion is not merely a nation of people, but a nation of soldiers, where all men and women work toward the common good of their homeland''s safety and prosperity.


    Led by Supreme General Santiago Fernando and his High Command, every citizen is considered a soldier in the efficient military complex that is the Dominion, with each patriotic member ready to do whatever is necessary for the safety and prosperity of their nation.


    But alas, there are times when even the courage and skill of Solar¡¯s Mage Soldiers are not enough. When the enemies of the Dominion employ insidious tactics, twisted magics, and dark schemes beyond what the standard Mage Soldier can be expected to handle.


    It is in these dire moments that the true champions of Solar rise to meet the challenge¡ªthe Aces!


    Aces are not mere mage soldiers; they are heroes.


    This coveted title is bestowed upon the rarest of individuals¡ªmen and women¡ªwho have proven themselves to be far beyond ordinary, both in arcane prowess and in fighting spirit.


    Masters of their craft and unparalleled practitioners of magic, Aces possess the ability to turn the tide of the most dire of battles. Their strength is unrivaled, their skills unmatched, and their courage unwavering.


    Soldiers without equal, they are symbols of hope and pride. Children grow up dreaming of donning their winged insignia, while adults see them as paragons of what every citizen strives to be.


    Whether motivated by the promise of renown or a selfless desire to serve, nearly every Solaran has, at one point, imagined joining the hallowed ranks of these elite heroes.


    Yet no discussion of Aces would be complete without the mention of the hero himself¡ªa man who has countless times stood alone to save the Dominion: Captain Dalten Vearez, the legendary Silver Fox.


    For it was he who saved the lives of countless noncombatants trapped in the Siege of Stone Valley, as they miraculously held out against impossible odds.


    And it was he who saved the Solaran army from certain defeat at the Battle of the Scorched Plateau, in a sudden surprise maneuver.


    And it was he who after being lost behind enemy lines, escaped capture to face the Dread General Volten himself and ushered in an end to the First Arcane War.


    The foremost master of light magic, and perhaps the strongest Mage Soldier to ever exist. The Silver Fox is a true hero¡ªone who has defied the impossible time and time again.


    But that was two decades ago, and a new war rages.


    Now a General, the Silver Fox is needed away from the front to command our armies. Now more than ever the Dominion needs new heroes to rise up and take on the mantle of Ace, and champion the nation to a brighter tomorrow.


    For even the Silver Fox himself was once a man from humble beginnings who rose to the occasion in a time of need. When the time comes again, any young Solaran soldier can step up and prove themselves to be the next great Ace.


    This was the dream that Damian had strived for.


    For as long as he could remember, he wanted to become an Ace¡ªto prove that he had what it took to be a hero.


    Just like his father. Just like the Silver Fox.


    Unfortunately for Damian, the situation he found himself in currently was far from heroic.


    Because for the moment, Damian sat cowering in a dirty trench, desperately clutching his slugger close to his chest as slugs tore through the air overhead, snapping like a whip as they struck the dirt around him. While every few seconds, a shattering boom shook the trench walls, showering him with dirt.


    As Damian looked around, he saw that his squadmates were doing no better. Most stayed huddled in the safety of the trench with fear in their eyes, too afraid to look out and risk being engulfed by the chaos up above.


    The few that dared attempt to pop their head up above to return fire quickly retreated back down or were blasted back into the dirt.


    They were in dire straits, and Damian knew if nothing was done soon, defeat was inevitable.


    Yet for all the danger, this was his chance¡ªthe perfect moment of desperation to prove he could turn the tides and show he had what it took to be an Ace.


    With a deep, steadying breath, he locked away his fear and rose to his feet. He carefully crept up the trench, as he peeked over the parapet to get a better look at what they were facing.


    Across the field was a row of soldiers. Sluggers up as they sprayed at the trench line with a suppressing barrage of slugs, steadily advancing closer with each passing moment. But it wasn¡¯t the soldiers Damian was most worried about, it was the massive flaming beast being paraded behind them.


    From Damian¡¯s vantage, the beast looked more like a moving inferno than a creature, towering two stories tall with flames cascading up its frame.


    Its eyes blazed like twin furnaces, cutting through the swirling flames that crowned its monstrous head. Long curved horns poked out of its flaming skull, and its arms ended in jagged clawed hands, both searing bright like molten iron. While every step it took with its bulky hind legs landed with a crash leaving large blackened and charred footprints in its wake.


    Whatever slugs the disorganized defense managed to fire dissipated as it impacted with the intense flames around it.


    And it returned every bit of aggression back tenfold¡ªopening its scorching, toothy maw to launch boulder-sized fireballs that exploded on impact, tearing massive chunks out of the ground around the trench.


    Damian wracked his brain for a clue, searching for advice his father might have given him.


    But he quickly remembered how evasive his dad always became whenever the subject of actual combat arose.


    Left without answers, his thoughts turned instead to the legends¡ªlike the Battle of Windsgate Narrows, where the Silver Fox had thwarted a column of nearly unstoppable Juggernauts by exploiting a critical design flaw.


    But he could barely make out any details clinging to cover, and the very moment he attempted to pick his head up any further he was confronted with a fireball lobbed straight in his direction, forcing him to dive back down onto the floor of the trench, where he was once again barraged with another dusting of trench dirt.


    Damian realized there was no way to act from the safety of the trench. If he was going to find a weakness, he needed to get around the beast and find a new vantage point. But moving in the open was far too dangerous.


    Then, an idea struck him¡ªor at least half of one anyway¡ªand that would have to be enough for now.


    Gripping his slugger tightly, he began making his way down the trench.


    Under normal circumstances, finding anyone amidst the ear-shattering explosions and chaos would be impossible. Fortunately for Damian, the person he sought was predictable enough, he simply had to know where to look.


    Lo and behold, there he was¡ªLeon Danero¡ªpositioned as far from the fight as possible, hiding behind the sturdiest wall available and doing his best to ignore the chaos around him.


    Leon was a boy the same age as Damian with a family name almost as notable¡ªthough the two couldn¡¯t be more different.


    Here was a boy whose uniform was spotless, his glossy, carefully styled hair peeking out from beneath his helmet. A stark contrast to Damian¡¯s disheveled, battle-worn appearance.


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    Where Damian¡¯s father had instilled in him that respect was something to be earned, Leon¡ªlike many from so-called prestigious families¡ªbelieved respect was tied to one''s rank, or more precisely the rank of one''s parents.


    And that motivation would make Damian¡¯s request all the more challenging.


    ¡°Leon, quick. Come with me, I need your help!¡± Damian shouted, trying to jolt the boy into action.


    Leon looked up, his skepticism obvious. ¡°You want what?¡±


    ¡°I need your help,¡± Damian repeated, more firmly this time. ¡°I have a plan, and I need you to help me pull it off.¡±


    ¡°And the Captain told you to come get me?¡± Leon asked, raising a brow.


    ¡°Well¡­ no,¡± Damian admitted, his voice faltering before quickly regaining confidence. ¡°But we¡¯re going to lose this thing if we don¡¯t do something!¡±


    He had hoped Leon might jump at the chance in the heat of the moment, but deep down, he should have known better.


    Leon snorted. ¡°Oh no! No way! I am not getting mixed up in another one of your¡­ ordeals.¡±


    ¡°Come on. I know we can take that thing on¨C¡±


    Leon cut him off, ¡°And where exactly is the captain? Shouldn¡¯t he be the one coming up with the plans?¡±


    Damian paused, rubbing the back of his neck.


    ¡°Uh¡­ last I saw, he was smoking and getting blasted over my trench.¡±


    ¡°I knew it! I knew this would happen!¡± Leon loudly complained. ¡°The moment my name was chosen for this squad it was hopeless.¡±


    ¡°We can still beat that thing. If my father was here he would¡ª¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t your father. We all know that.¡±


    He sat down even firmer, and crossed his arms in defiance.


    ¡°No. If we don¡¯t have any orders I¡¯m keeping my butt right here. Nice and safe behind this friendly wall.¡±


    ¡°And what, wait here for that thing to come over here and burn you to a crisp? What kind of plan is that?¡±


    ¡°Surrender is a plan. And it¡¯s probably far less likely to end with me getting my eyebrows seared off than going with you, surprisingly enough.¡±


    Damian knew he should have expected this, his reputation wasn''t the greatest these days, but he also knew the reputation Leon was known for too, a ¡°Danero always had a price,¡± was a common saying when Leon¡¯s family was concerned and he was no different. And Damian still had a trump card to play¡ªalthough he loathed using it.


    ¡°If you help me, I¡¯ll introduce you to my Dad!¡± Damian winced as he spit out the words.


    At this, Leon¡¯s ears perked up. No one from a socialite family like the Daneros could resist the chance to rub shoulders with the Silver Fox. He would probably brag about it for years.


    Leon thought for a moment, drawing out a suspenseful, ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± before finally breaking. ¡°Fine. Fine! But if things start going downhill, I¡¯m running the other way.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t! Trust me, it¡¯ll work,¡± Damian said, waving Leon to follow. Leon let out an exaggerated groan but begrudgingly followed.


    They came to the very edge of the trench line Before them just an open field. Although a short run away was a line of forested trees and shrubs that ran along the length of the battlefield. Enough to give them some semblance of cover from the oncoming fire.


    ¡°Can you get us across there,¡± Damian asked, as he pointed to the trees in the distance.


    Leon¡¯s face twisted in disbelief. ¡°Why in the world do you want to go out in the open? To make us an even easier target?¡±


    ¡°Because nothing is going to change if we just sit here. Besides, if anyone has a cartridge that could  keep us from getting hurt, it would be you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like what you are implying.¡± Leon scoffed, ¡°But yeah, I think I have something that might work, and I wouldn¡¯t mind getting further from here.¡±


    With that, Leon reached down into the pouch at his waist. Out of it he pulled a square metal cartridge with several blue runes emblazoned on its side. He then inserted it into the slot at the bottom of the metal base of the slugger. Then he lifted it up and aimed out in the direction they intended to go.


    Leon focused intensely as if remembering an equation in his head. As he did, the gem on its side began to glow bright, before projecting out a brilliant circular pattern of  runic symbols. Damian could recognize a few, such as the sign for water and protection. Though before he could read more, the symbols quickly shrunk back into the gem, as a notable hum signaled the spell was ready.


    ¡°Ok, when I fire I¡¯m going¡ªso you better keep up.¡± Leon instructed.


    Leon pulled the trigger. A sharp clap echoed from the weapon as a blue slug shot outward, but it didn¡¯t travel far. Just a few feet from the barrel, the slug seemed to collide with an invisible wall. The impact scattered its light across the unseen surface, which shimmered briefly before shifting into a flowing stream of clear blue water.


    The water splashed outward, spreading and settling midair as though filling an invisible mold. Within seconds, the liquid fully solidified, forming a large, man-sized kite shield that glistened in the sunlight.


    ¡°Go!¡± Leon shouted as the two sprinted forward.


    The shield floated alongside them, perfectly matching their pace as they ran.


    For a few heart-pounding moments, nothing happened as they sprinted at full speed. Then it hit. Slugger bolts began raining down around them. Most shots missed, but those that struck the shield disintegrated on impact, leaving behind wisps of steam.


    Before long, they made it to the tree line and dove into the undergrowth, collapsing behind the cover of the foliage. For a moment, they stayed there as they collected themselves.


    ¡°Okay, now what is this plan of yours?¡± Leon asked.


    ¡°I just need to check something,¡± Damian said, picking himself up and jogging along the cover.


    ¡°What do you mean you ¡®have to see¡¯? You said you had a plan!¡± Leon shouted, hurrying after him.


    ¡°I do¡­ I just have to see if it will work,¡± Damian replied, his tone distracted.


    Leon was about to protest, but Damian quickly shushed him and pushed him into a crouch.


    The beast and its escort were about to pass them now, and they could even feel the heat coming off it, despite it still being some distance away.


    They stayed silent, barely daring to move. Only once the group had safely passed did they exhale in quiet relief.


    ¡°Look!¡± Damian whispered, as he pointed towards the rear of the beast. ¡°See how the flames are all coming out of the same area in the back?¡±


    Damian pointed, and just as he said, Leon could see the flames flowing out from a singular point on its rear.


    ¡°Yeah, so?¡±


    ¡°If that is wreathing magic, then it actually needs to project from a certain point.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, so? If it¡¯s projecting from anywhere, it¡¯s the front, right? That¡¯s where it¡¯s probably the strongest.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s fire magic. Air actually has to get into that thing. I bet it''s projecting from the back, so they can still funnel air through. They wouldn¡¯t be able to control the magic precisely enough to create a funnel and keep up the intensity in the same spot. Meaning the projection point in the would be the weakest spot. I bet I can get a shot in from there.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like you¡¯re too sure,¡± Leon said, looking at Damian incredulously. ¡°Besides, we can¡¯t even try that from here. There¡¯s no clear shot.¡±


    ¡°Over there,¡± Damian pointed to a jagged pile of boulders and rocks behind the advancing party. ¡°That''s the perfect cover. Those cracks are narrow enough that no one could hit a target shooting through them.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not going out there,¡± Leon said flatly.


    ¡°No one asked you to,¡± Damian shot back. ¡°I just need cover again.¡±


    Leon shook his head. ¡°Damian, that¡¯s thirty yards out. My shield doesn¡¯t reach that far¡ªit barely goes fifteen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Damian said, locking eyes with him. ¡°I¡¯ll make it work.¡±


    ¡°Make it work? That¡¯s your plan? Run across an open field and hope you don¡¯t get blasted to pieces?¡± Leon shot back.


    ¡°What do you care? You get to stay here in the trees while I do the hard part.¡±


    ¡°Fine, your funeral,¡± Leon relented with a roll of his eyes. Once again bringing up his slugger as the crystal started to glow blue. ¡°Just tell me when, I guess.¡±


    Damian steadied himself, dropping into a ready position. He took a deep breath, savoring it as if it might be his last. His eyes zeroed in on the target, his resolve solidified.


    ¡°Now!¡± Damian shouted as he took off before even waiting for the shot to go off.


    Just like before, the familiar clap of Leon¡¯s slugger rang out, summoning the watery shield that raced beside Damian. It deflected the incoming bolts, shielding him as he dashed forward.


    But unlike last time, the shield came to an abrupt halt after just a few seconds. Damian¡¯s stomach dropped as he realized he was exposed. Bolts zipped past him, and with no other option, he began weaving erratically, hoping his unpredictable movements would keep him alive.


    In truth, Leon was right¡ªDamian had no plan. But he did have courage, and that¡¯s what truly made a hero, wasn¡¯t it? A hero was someone brave enough to do whatever it took to make a difference. At least, that¡¯s what Damian believed.


    So as Damian charged headlong through the chaos, he couldn¡¯t help but let a wild grin break across his face. Slugs zipped past him, chaos erupting all around, but he felt a strange clarity and sense of purpose with every step. He was scared¡ªof course he was¡ªbut that fear only drove him harder.


    In that exhilarating moment, he felt it¡ªthat he truly had what it took to be the hero he was destined to be. And for one sweet, fleeting moment, he felt like he truly was the son of the Silver Fox.


    When Damian finally reached his target and dove behind the rocks, he let out a relieved chuckle, before reminding himself that he still had more to do. He collected himself, shaking off the odd euphoria. He was able to quickly get back up to his knees and scampered towards a slit in the rocks, just small enough to stick his slugger through and aim.


    Luckily, the beast hadn¡¯t noticed him, its focus fixed on the trenches ahead. Its escorts, however, were less oblivious. Bolts struck the rocks in front of him with sharp, snapping cracks. Still, the narrow gap in the rocks left Damian nearly untouchable¡ªhitting him would take nothing short of a miracle.


    Damian raised his slugger and peered through the sights, focusing past the volley of slugs flying his way, to the rear of the beast. There it was¡ªa spot untouched by flames. Within, he could just make out a vaguely human form. That was his target.


    Damian focused on his slugger. He had one shot to get this right. He didn¡¯t need anything fancy¡ªjust one clean shot. One chance to bring the beast down.


    It is said magic draws its power from one¡¯s spirit, and Damian poured every ounce of his into this moment. His focus, his determination, were all channeled into a single shot.


    The slugger¡¯s crystal flared to life, pulsing with a sharp silver glow.


    Then it wavered¡ªshining bright one moment, dimming the next, then flaring up once again. Damian didn¡¯t notice. He didn¡¯t want to notice. He just focused more and more on his target as the crystal became more and more erratic.


    And then he pulled the trigger.


    But nothing came out.


    Then the crystal began to wildly shine and give an uncomfortable whine, as Damian realized what was about to happen next.


    ¡°Oh, not again¡­¡±


    A deafening crack suddenly split the air, and the crystal shattered in a blinding flash of light. Force hit Damian¡¯s chest like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from him as he was hurled backward. Sparks Shot up, and a plume of shifting colors exploded in every direction like malfunctioning fireworks. A vibrant rainbow plume rose into the air, catching the attention of all around.


    The battle came to a halt¡ªmomentarily forgotten in the face of the dazzling display.


    Then a sharp whistle cut through the air.


    Instantly, everyone stopped. Sluggers were lowered. And all signs of aggression disappeared.


    The advancing combatants escorting the beast stopped their advance just steps away from the trenches. And out of them, teenagers covered in dirt and soot began to climb out, looking utterly defeated.


    A stern-looking woman in crisp officer¡¯s garb and cap with polished black boots stormed onto the field. She waved her arm sharply as she barked commands, demanding all to halt.


    The flames of the large beast began to die down, its massive, imposing form shrinking with every flicker until the last ember vanished.


    In its place stood a tough-looking girl with long amber hair, surrounded by scorched grass. A glare firmly fixed in Damian¡¯s direction, an irritated scowl etched across her face.


    And Damian lay sprawled on his back, soot-covered and groaning. He coughed up a puff of smoke, and showed no intention of getting up anytime soon.


    As the ringing in his ears began to die down, the sound of footsteps in the grass drew his attention, and soon the sunny sky was eclipsed by Leon¡¯s smug face as he looked down at Damian and mocked.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you, hero,¡± Leon said, his voice dripping with mockery, before striding off and leaving Damian to his shame.


    Once again, Damian was faced with a bitter, undeniable truth.


    Despite attending two full years at Providencia Officer¡¯s Academy¡ª


    Despite being the son of the legendary Silver Fox¡ª


    Despite training and studying over and over again¡ª


    Damian was completely and utterly terrible at magic.

 Codex #2: The Solaran Dominion

    <figure style="text-align: center"></figure>


    <h2 style="text-align: center"> </h2>


    <h2 style="text-align: center">Codex #2</h2>


    The Solaran Dominion


    The Solaran Dominion, or simply ¡°Solar,¡± spans the southern, more compact, half of Skyfell, including the Middlelands won in the First Arcane War and several nearby island colonies.


    Named after the sun, Solar¡¯s warm climate and fertile farmlands¡ªenriched by an ideal mix of fire and life elemental currents¡ªhave made it one of the most bountiful nations in post-Emergence history.


    Once a traditional monarchy, Solar saw itself transformed during the First Arcane War after a series of early devastating losses to the new Treviet Union saw the king''s professional Royal Mage Soldier Army and its Channeler forces take major losses. Forcing them to rely increasingly on their conscripted Mage Soldiers of their Home Guard militia until they were the major fighting force of the nation.


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    Incited by the heavy losses¡ªoften due to poor or callous leadership¡ªGeneral Santiago Fernando, the new up-and-coming leader of the Home Guard, led a popular coup that ended the monarchy and established the Dominion as a military state under his rule as Supreme General.


    Under his regime, the newly established High Command launched The Great Conscription, a sweeping decree that effectively drafted every citizen and private industry into military service. Society itself was restructured to maximize industrial output and manpower. This effort ultimately helped to turn the tide of the war.


    Ever since, Solar has become a heavily patriotic and militarized society that¡ªwhile stringent¡ªhas forged one of the most disciplined and well armed armies in the world.


    Seen as both a relic of nobility and a dangerously unstable practice, channeling has been banned in Solar. Instead, the Dominion focuses on its core Mage Soldier training and engineering advantages. To this day Solaran Mage Soldiers are often considered the best in the world. A fact seen in their often lauded Aces.

 Chapter 2: The Place where Aces are Made (1/2)

    <h2 style="text-align: center">CHAPTER 2</h2>


    The Place where Aces are Made


    The world is at war!


    But on the outskirts of the capital city of Delrado, far south from the chaos and destruction of the frontlines, one might not even notice there was a war going on at all.


    Here, rolling green hills and meadows glisten in the tropical warmth and sunshine of Solar¡¯s homelands. These peaceful lands are only populated by the chirping of the colorful Coocaboo birds singing in the palm trees and the rumbling of a rare magicar rolling down the road past the vibrant, green fields.


    The only exception being one very large and prominent academy settled amongst these lush fields.


    But this is no ordinary academy.


    That much is clear the moment one approaches its gilded, ornate gates, emblazoned with a symbol of a golden sprout. Surrounded by thick stucco walls, barring entry to all but those deemed privileged enough to pass through.


    If one were to pass through the entrance, they would be met by a pristine courtyard, bisected by a red-brick walkway, and flanked by beautifully trimmed hedges cut into perfect geometric perfection, while the scent of freshly cut grass lingers through the warm air, even well into the evening.


    Following the red brick road leads directly to the academy¡¯s imposing heart, a grand building painted in a warm cream hue as its deep terracotta roofs catches the golden sunlight. Its windows gleam with the glare of the setting sun, all while a towering clock tower rises above its entrance, piercing the sky with a small red flag proudly fluttering in the breeze.


    This main schoolhouse¡ªflanked by similarly well constructed dormitories¡ªmight give one the impression that this is just another expensive boarding school, where the elite can send their children to learn far away from the public rabble. And that impression might even persist as one enters through the large oak doors deeper inside, down trophy-lined hallways echoing with the sound of light murmuring of muffled lectures.


    Yet, if one were to peer closer into one of these classrooms you might see something quite peculiar.


    Such as a mischievous boy stifling a laugh as a faint yellow light flickers from a device on his wrist¡ªjust before his neighbor jolts with a startled yelp. And in another corner, a sly girl glances under her desk, where an impossible reflection mirrors the answers from some other student''s test. Or you might wonder why the teacher is pacing by the desks wearing a full, red and gold military officer¡¯s uniform or the fact that the chalkboard doesn¡¯t have equations or book passages, but rather army formations and military strategies.


    And should you glance through the class¡¯s rear-facing windows you will be faced with a sight more fitting of a boot camp than a school.


    A vast red track looping around the yard, occupied by boys and girls huffing and puffing as they struggle to keep pace. Around it, rows of students hit the dirt in perfect sync, urged on by instructors barking sharp insults cutting deeper than their already heavy exhaustion.


    Further afield in the sprawling fields behind the academy, lay shooting ranges where kids hold up sluggers ill-fitting the size of the young teens wielding them, while they practice firing at straw dummies with dented blue helmets and crudely drawn faces.


    Across from that, a dirt path leading to a large garage¡ªits interior lit up bright with the sound of clanking metal and the flickering of blowtorches.


    Inside, students tinker away with various machines and devices as they learn the finer points of arcane engineering. Some contraptions hum to life as their embedded crystals light up, while others (built by less gifted students) splutter, spark, or collapse into a heap of metal.


    Looking further in past students'' workbenches, the vast garage holds an array of mechanical wonders, from mortars and shield generators, to larger equipment like howitzers and anti-juggernaut cannons all neatly stored away for future demonstrations.


    Several vehicles in various states of repair sit nearby as well, providing students with opportunities to learn maintenance and operation. Even a few aging training Juggernauts stand amongst the machinery¡ªthough less imposing than their battlefield counterparts, resembling armored farm tractors more than war machines.


    And a short walk beyond the garage would reveal a modest airstrip where you could witness a airobird, piloted by a senior student, touch down under the careful guidance of an instructor. The aircraft kicking up a cloud of dust as its wheels meet the ground.


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    But perhaps the most unique structure sits just a short walk away from the main campus.


    A stark contrast to the academy¡¯s sunlit facades, this imposing concrete hall looms tall and solid¡ªmore an ornate fortress than a school hall. Even from outside one can hear strange muffled sounds of wooshes, whirring, and thunderous booms.


    That is because this reinforced structure isn¡¯t designed to protect what¡¯s inside, but rather to protect the school grounds from undue damage by what goes on within.


    For this is where magic happens¡ªquite literally.


    Despite the building¡¯s imposing architecture, the inside of the building is surprisingly cavernous and austere with nothing on the ground but a sandy dirt floor.


    Lined across the sides are rows of cubicle-like sections separated with thick walls. From within, colorful lights and sounds of magic flare up over and over. Inside, the students fire off their sluggers again and again as they attempt to gain mastery over their spells. Each one attempting their own magical feat of wonder.


    In one cubicle, a boy fires an orange bolt into the ground before him, and the earthen floor shudders before churning into a sludgy quicksand¡ªperfect for slowing a would-be enemy. In another, a girl aims her slugger straight down near her feet, before a quick purple flash produces a constant swirling gust under her, lifting her aloft as though she were weightless. Past that, a boy conjures a floating yellow orb of electricity from his slugger, only to see as the orb barely drifts a few feet away before bursting in a deafening crack of thunder, hurling him sprawling backward onto the ground in shame.


    Instructors pace between the rows, correcting mistakes and refining technique. They sift through spell cartridges, assessing each student''s strengths while ensuring the overambitious ones don¡¯t attempt spells beyond their capabilities.


    And when accidents do inevitably happen, school medics stand ready. Clearly marked with satchels bearing a red cross, they rush over when called, mending wounds and resetting bones with restorative spells and tools, raising students back to their feet almost as quickly as they fell.


    Yet, even all this is only part of the rigorous training within the walls of this campus. Beyond the practice halls, every lesson, every drill, and every expectation serves a singular purpose¡ªto forge the finest Mage Soldiers the Dominion has to offer.


    This is the Provedencia Officer¡¯s Academy, The Place Where Aces Are Made.


    While some high schools might offer optional magic courses, and all Solar citizens are mandated to undergo a short military training, Provedencia goes far beyond. It does not educate students¡ªit forges leaders. Combining academics, military conditioning, and arcane mastery, the academy is designed to shape Solar¡¯s next generation of great Mage Soldiers.


    Entry into Providencia is tightly controlled, requiring either a recommendation from a high-ranking officer or passing an entrance exam so rigorous that only one in a thousand succeed. Yet for those who make it, success is all but guaranteed, with graduates securing prominent positions across the military, business, and civil corps.


    At Providencia, every student follows a core curriculum of academic studies and Mage Soldier training, but as they advance, they branch into more specialized fields. Whether it be with the military in the Home Guard, Expedition Corps, or Navy Corps, or pursuing more technical expertise in the Engineer Corps or Business Corps, or perhaps helping to manage the nation through the Administration Corps or Judicial Corps, the academy provides tailored paths for any role in the Dominion.


    But Providencia¡¯s true appeal lies in its legacy. For within its alumni lie legends.


    Almost a third of all active Aces have made their start as former students of this academy. Meaning, for any young cadet with aspirations of joining the ranks of the legendary Aces, this is the place to be.


    Yet, for all its strict discipline and military order, magic does not bend to rules of regimental order so easily. A soldier thrives on structure, but magic is fueled by something far less predictable¡ªrequiring focus to control, imagination to shape, and willpower to bend it into reality.


    So while by day, students march in formation, adhering to strict discipline under the watchful eyes of their instructors. Once the school day ends and the students be left to their own devices, a different energy takes hold of the academy.


    As the bells toll across campus, a wave of euphoria sweeps through the students. Chairs scrape against the floor as they spring from their seats, rushing toward the exits. Like cockroaches scattering from under a rock, students storm into the halls and spill out the doors. The gems in their caster watches shining on their wrists, as the students are free to let their unique personalities and talents show, no longer bound by the restrictions of class hours.


    Down the steps, a group of boys slide down the railing on a thin layer of ice that vanishes just as quickly as it formed. Some cadets, too impatient for the stairwells, take more creative routes¡ªone leaping from a window, catching a gust of wind to glide gently to the pavement below. And another growing vine that twists up from the ground, curling into makeshift ladders to create a shortcut to their dorm room. And in the shadows behind the buildings, the earth silently parts as a pair of blushing truant lovebirds emerge from their hidden hideaway and slip into the growing crowd unnoticed.


    Across the campus, the air buzzes with the shouts of energetic students and the crackling of magic springing to life. Shouts and laughter fill up the campus as a chaotic energy fills the academy with excitement found nowhere else but a true magical school like Providencia.


    And yet, far in the back of the academy, picking himself off the dirt of the mock battlefield, lies sixteen-year-old Damian Vearez¡ªbruised, battered, and picking himself up from the ground. In a school filled with prodigies and magical talent, he possesses no special skills, and no remarkable spells to his name.


    Yet as he lifts his gaze to the setting sun casting golden light over the academy, he remembers the promise he made to himself long ago. No matter the odds, no matter how many times he falls, no matter what challenges he may face, he will never give up¡ªbecause one day, he will be a hero. Just like his father.

 Chapter 2: The Place where Aces are Made (2/2)

    Damian begrudgingly made his way back to the rest of the students, the sting of yet another failure settling deep.


    Gone was the bold, reckless boy who charged through slugs and threw himself into daring plans. In his place walked a muted, withdrawn figure¡ªone who would sooner face explosions and monsters than endure another day of judgmental stares from his peers and the disappointment of instructors.


    Hurry up, Cadet Vearez!¡± The Drill Sergeant barked across the yard. Without missing a beat, her sharp commands turned to the rest of the students. ¡°Everyone¡ªsluggers, helmets, flak jackets, and magic dampeners on the rack. Line up with the rest of the class. If you need first aid, see Medic Mira. And I don¡¯t care if the bells are ringing¡ªno one leaves until I say so.


    A synchronized, exasperated sigh rippled through the class as they removed their gear and sluggishly formed a shoulder-to-shoulder line.


    A handful of stragglers trickled in, pausing by the school nurse, who calmly tended to their cuts and burns as she healed them with her medical wand, its soft pink glow making their burns and bruises vanish in an instant. The rest stood idly, shoulders slouched, until the Drill Sergeant corrected their lax posture with a single sharp glare and a low, menacing clearing of her throat.


    The Drill Sergeant loomed over the students, her presence as commanding as the crisp, well-fitted officer¡¯s uniform she wore. A striking red coat with golden epaulets on the shoulders, cinched at the waist with a black belt, and extending into a fitted, slit-front skirt. A peaked officer¡¯s cap with the symbol of the Education Corps¡ªa book¡ªemblazoned in its center, sat atop her neatly styled dark bob, adding to her already formidable height. She cast a sharp, scrutinizing gaze over the cadets, her expression a permanent mix of annoyance and disappointment, that dared any of them to test her patience.


    The Drill Sergeant began to pace in front of the students as she inspected them.


    Now that their padded flack jackets had been removed, they looked less like soldiers and more like boy scouts. Their uniforms were simple¡ªred military boots, shorts barely reaching their knees, and matching collared shirts neatly fastened with black ties. Most of the students bore the common features of Solaran Natives, sun browned skin with dark eyes and hair that ranged from straight to light curls. Though a few of the students could easily be recognized as coming from the Middlelands with more varied hair and lighter skin tones.


    Damian, however, blended into the crowd rather than standing out. His skin bore the same warm brown hue as most of his peers, and his unkempt hair¡ªwhich couldn¡¯t seem to decide whether it wanted to be straight or curled¡ªonly added to his lack of distinction. He leaned toward the shorter side of average, often finding himself looking up at the other boys in his class. Though not out of shape, any muscle he had was softened by a thin layer of softness¡ªlikely the result of too many lonely weekends and an all-too-accessible fridge. And currently like many on his squad, he was in desperate need of a shower. Perhaps the only thing that truly set Damian apart from his classmates was his eyes¡ªdeep, striking green, vibrant even beneath the layers of grime.


    ¡°Now then. Evaluations,¡± The Drill Sergeant began. ¡°Cadet Franko!¡±


    ¡°Yes, Drill Sergeant?¡± responded a frightened boy, his face somehow even filthier than Damian¡¯s.


    ¡°Well I¡¯ll give you this Cadet. You are certainly ready for our night camouflage course next week.¡±


    ¡°S-sorry, Drill Sergeant,¡± the boy stuttered out.


    ¡°So tell me Cadet, have you uncovered some sort of new forbidden necromantic spell? Perhaps you are planning to rise from the grave and lead your squad as some sort of ghost?¡± she asked dryly.


    ¡°No, Drill Sergeant.¡±


    ¡°So tell me, Cadet, why were you busy rolling around on fire while the rest of your squad ran around like headless chickens?¡± She didn¡¯t wait for an answer, instead turning her attention to the class as a whole.


    ¡°Soldiers without leaders are useless! None of you are the Silver Fox, so rid yourselves of any foolish notions of heroics. A commander must maintain control of their unit¡ªeven in the direst of moments. If you can¡¯t even keep yourself alive, how do you expect to keep your men alive?¡±


    For a moment, she cast a lingering glance at Damian, as if considering whether to speak. He braced himself, fully expecting to be called out after everything she had just said. But instead, she simply let out a sigh¡ªheavy with disappointment¡ªand moved on.


    Somehow, that felt even worse. A scolding he could handle. But it seemed that just like all the others, she too had given up on him.


    ¡°Now then, Cadet Dominique,¡± The Drill Sergeant now moved on to a rather smug looking girl with long amber hair.


    Veronica Dominique, the star pupil.


    With a broad shouldered, tough, yet still fairly feminine build, she looked just as suited for a beauty pageant as she was for a wrestling match. Her amber eyes seemed to be furrowed in a near constant look of disdain, and not a single strand of her matching long hair seemed out of place after the mock battle. Her magical aptitude was leagues ahead of the rest of the class, a fact she carried with great pride.


    She stood there smugly, chest puffed up and chin held high, fully expecting praise for her latest victory.


    ¡°Cadet Dominique, are you aware that spell development was the last course?¡±


    At this, her confidence wavered and her brow furrowing in confusion. ¡°What do you mean? I won, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°If I wanted to see you take a leisurely stroll down the field, I¡¯d have just made you do laps,¡± the Drill Sergeant snapped. ¡°This mock battle was meant to assess your ability to command. And while you may have won¡ªthanks to your opponents being about as coordinated as a pack of feral goblins¡ªthis was not a test of brute strength. We all know you¡¯re perfectly capable with magic, Cadet Dominique. But while you were busy showing off, you left your flank easily being flanked.¡±


    At this, Vera¡¯s expression darkened, and her sharp brown eyes immediately locked onto Damian from down the line. He barely held her gaze for a second before looking away, as if avoiding the glare of a territorial beast ready to pounce.


    ¡°As Mage Soldiers, you will inevitably face threats far beyond your own strength. Monsters, Channelers¡ªfoes capable of magic and power that no single mage soldier could hope to match alone. That is why strategy and teamwork are your greatest weapons. No matter how outnumbered or outmatched you may be, you must always be prepared to use strategy and outthink your enemy.¡±


    She let her words hang in the air for a moment before demanding, ¡°Do I make myself clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Drill Sergeant!¡± The class echoed in unison, their voices sharp with discipline.


    ¡°Now then you will receive your grades upon your return next week, but before I dismiss you we need to go over the Reclamation Day rally one more time,¡± she began, prompting another collective sigh from the class. ¡°Yes, I know your instructors have already drilled this into your heads, but that should only tell you how serious this is.¡±


    She paused, scanning their faces before continuing.


    ¡°As you all know, this class has been chosen to represent Providencia at tomorrow night¡¯s rally. This is a responsibility, not a privilege. Your conduct will reflect directly on this academy. It is your duty to display the discipline and honor expected of a Provedencia student. If any of you so much as think about causing trouble or embarrassing this institution in any way, there will be serious consequences¡ªincluding possible expulsion.¡±


    ¡°Many important figures will be in attendance,¡± she continued. ¡°Generals, Aces¡ªand most importantly, the Supreme General himself. His speech will be broadcast across all of Solar. The eyes and ears of the entire nation shall be upon us, so you had better be on your best behavior. Am I understood?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Drill Sergeant!¡± the class responded in practiced unison.


    ¡°Very good,¡± she said with a nod. ¡°We will be meeting in front of the gates of Castle Sentinel at oh-eight-hundred. Do not be late. You are dismissed!¡±


    With that, a unified sigh rippled through the students as shoulders sagged in relief. The line broke, and the cadets dispersed, merging into the growing throng of teens filling the campus. Conversations picked up, laughter and chatter replacing the rigid silence of formation as they funneled toward the main school buildings, eager to leave the week''s trials behind.


    Damian in particular was doing his best to avoid notice on his walk back to the dorms, something he had become quite good at lately. He could already see the whispered chuckles and quick glances from a few of his classmates that often meant that he was the butt of some joke.


    But most of all he wanted to avoid Vera¡¯s notice.


    There was a reason she had earned the title Demon of Provedencia. Her competitive streak was infamous, and her idea of restraint was nonexistent. Cadets dreaded facing her, knowing full well that a spar with Vera often ended in a trip to the medic¡¯s office¡ªespecially so for anyone who happened to make her look anything less than perfect. A fact Damian was well aware of, having been the victim of quite a few painful jabs and second-degree burns from the girl who clearly didn¡¯t know her own strength.


    So Damian was intent on avoiding her, hoping she might let go of her grudge by the time they returned from the weekend. All he had to do was slip back to the dorms unnoticed, grab his things, and get off campus before she had a chance to corner him. Blending into the crowd, he carefully positioned himself behind her¡ªright in her blind spot, praying she¡¯d be too distracted to notice.


    Luckily, at the moment, she was too busy venting to her friend Jade Willow¡ªa sharp-eyed girl from the northern territories.


    Jade¡¯s short, straight black hair was always neatly kept, one side tucked behind her ear, held in place with a small skull-shaped pin she never seemed to part with. But it wasn¡¯t just her piercing blue gaze that made people uneasy. Jade had a way of unsettling others, seemingly relishing in her uncanny knack of getting under people''s skin and making others squirm with her morbid interests.


    Honestly, Damian was still a little suspicious of her too. At least ever since that one time, she insisted on treating his scratches and he could have sworn she pricked him with something.


    But the important thing right now is that Vera was distracted, and if he played his cards right, he could slip past unnoticed and make it to his room unscathed. All he had to do was stay quiet and move carefully¡ªthen maybe, just maybe, he''d avoid yet another miserable encounter.


    That was, until a sudden slap on the back nearly wrenched a startled yelp from Damian¡¯s throat.


    His shoulders tensed as he spun around, only to find Leon strolling up beside him, an ever-present, false grin plastered across his face like a business man about to close a deal.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re gonna make good on our deal, right?¡± Leon asked, his tone far too casual for Damian¡¯s liking.


    ¡°I mean¡­ Things didn¡¯t exactly go to plan.¡± Damian said, hoping Leon might let him off the hook. He had already been embarrassed enough and he wasn¡¯t looking forward to bothering his dad with whatever awkward conversation Leon had planned.


    ¡°Oh, you never said anything about your plan working. I helped you, now it¡¯s your turn. You wouldn¡¯t want to tarnish the good Vearez name as untrustworthy now would you?¡±


    Damian had no real attachment to the ¡°Vearez¡± name. After all, it wasn¡¯t some grand legacy¡ªjust him and his dad. But it was clear Leon wasn¡¯t going to drop it, and Damian wasn¡¯t in the mood to argue.


    ¡°Fine, I get it,¡± Damian sighed. ¡°But why do you care so much about meeting him anyway?¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding? If I get noticed by the Silver Fox, I can hold it over my brothers and sisters forever. Who you know is everything in this world. Just look at that no-rank friend of yours¡ªone day he¡¯s a nobody, then he gets chummy with you and your dad, and now he¡¯s climbing the ranks in the Intelligence Corps.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not really¡ª¡± Damian started to correct him but stopped, suddenly aware of Leon¡¯s loud voice. If Vera overheard, things would only get worse. He needed to end this conversation fast. ¡°I don¡¯t even know when he¡¯ll be back.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t he supposed to be at the rally tomorrow?¡± Leon pressed.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard from him in weeks while he¡¯s been out at the front, so your guess is as good as mine.¡±


    "You know, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever actually seen you with your father," Leon mused, his voice light, almost conspiratorial. "And, well... some people have been saying you¡¯re not actually the Silver Fox¡¯s kid. That you¡¯ve just been scamming the school¡ªnot me, of course. That¡¯d be ridiculous."


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "Yeah, hilarious¡­" Damian muttered. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d heard that one, and at this point, he was starting to wonder if there was some truth to it.


    Then something suddenly occurred to Damian. He could solve both his problems at the same time.


    ¡°You know I heard Vera¡¯s brother is going to be at the rally. Maybe if you cozy up to her too, you might be able to get his attention.¡±


    "Vera, huh? She¡¯s been on my radar too. But well... she¡¯s a tough cookie to crack." Leon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, like a merchant weighing a deal, before his expression suddenly brightened with confidence. "But, as old Grandpa Paulo always said¡ªthere¡¯s no profit without risk!"


    With the overeager grin of a magicar salesman, he strode forward toward the two girls, his usual flair of misplaced confidence leading the way. Damian wished he had shown even a dash of that confidence during the test.


    ¡°I have to say, Dominique, that was quite the show. I was shaking over there. Absolutely terrified." Leon placed a hand on his chest in mock distress as he popped up in front of the girls. "What else can I expect from a future Ace? You know¡ª¡±


    ¡°Can it, Leon. I can smell your Danero greed from here,¡± Jade cut in.


    Leon turned, feigning offense. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, northerner, but I wasn¡¯t talking to the help.¡± His smirk not trying to conceal his condescension. ¡°Especially not someone so¡­ uncouth.¡±


    ¡°Uncouth? Cute,¡± Jade shot back. ¡°You know, I heard that when your grandfather betrayed the old royals, he invited some nobles over for a big dinner. And just as he made a grand toast, everyone started hacking and foaming at the mouth before dropping dead. Rumors say that the skeletons are still hidden under the Danero Manor basement to this day. Maybe if you give us a tour, we¡¯ll think about helping you out.¡±


    ¡°That is an unsubstantiated rumor!¡± Leon huffed. ¡°He did no such thing. Though¡­ admittedly, I try to avoid going down there. It¡¯s admittedly kind of dark.¡±


    ¡°Cool it, Jade.¡± Vera chimed in with a sadistic confidence to her voice. ¡°It¡¯s okay, as a ¡®future ace¡¯ it¡¯s important to always have time for the little people.¡±


    ¡°Ha ha! See that quick wit is what makes you so interesting.¡± Leon continued unfazed by the girl¡¯s obvious revulsion. ¡°And what your friend over here calls greed, my family would call foresight. We Daneros always know a good investment when they see it and you my dear are a good investment. You see, you have all the magic and personality down but you need someone to promote you, a manager of sorts.¡±


    ¡°A manager? Funny. I don¡¯t think I need to get my name out, my father is a high general. I think everyone knows my name.¡±


    ¡°Your family name, sure. But your name?¡± Leon¡¯s voice took on a bored drawl. ¡°Do you want to be Vera Dominique?¡± He lazily gestured, then straightened up dramatically. ¡°Or Vera Dominique!¡± he declared, holding up his hand as the crystal on his wrist began to shine and a small watery heroic figure manifested on the end of his finger, striking a heroic pose to accentuate his point.


    ¡°Let¡¯s be real. It¡¯s not your father little kids pretend to be. No one¡¯s buying General Dominique action figures. No comic books about him saving the day. You want to be a top Ace¡ªlike the Silver Fox.¡± He closed in and continued in a hushed tone, ¡°Besides, your reputation around here could use some work.¡±


    Vera¡¯s patience snapped. ¡°What I need, Leon, is for you to shut up and get lost so I don¡¯t have to hear your wannabe snake oil salesman pitch.¡±


    Leon, unfazed, grinned and waved a dismissive hand. ¡°I get it, I get it. You need time to think it over.¡± He brushed off the rejection like it meant nothing, despite Vera and Jade picking up the pace to leave him behind.


    Still, he called after them, ¡°Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me! And put in a good word for me with your brother!¡±


    Damian had to give credit where it was due¡ªLeon was nothing if not persistent. And, as always, reliably annoying. But at least his little stunt provided the perfect distraction, giving Damian the chance to slip away toward the dorms unnoticed by Vera.


    Without hesitation, he weaved his way through the large, multi-floored brick building. The common area was bustling with students, but he barely registered the chatter as he hurried past the tables and seating. He dodged his way up the crowded staircase to the second floor, squeezing past cadets lingering in the halls, until he reached his door¡ªRoom 207.


    The moment he stepped inside, a wave of relief washed over him¡ªthe kind that only came from shutting out the world and retreating into the quiet solitude of one¡¯s own space.


    The room itself wasn¡¯t anything special though. It was rather spartan all things considered¡ªespecially for a teenage boy¡ªthough this was mostly because of the constant room inspections that were forced on them. His room back home certainly was not as organized.


    This one was just a small tan room with a simple twin bed, a wooden desk, and one small window facing the rear of the building. The only things of note here were the many stacks of Ace comics littered around and a plethora of books jammed into the bookshelf and overflowing onto his desk. The books were mostly fiction¡ªentertainment so Damian didn¡¯t have to leave his room too often. Though there were also old textbooks and a few magic manuals Damian had picked up to help him with his magic, not that any of them worked.


    Now that Damian had made it to his room, all he had to do was change and head home¡ªwithout issue, hopefully. Maybe, by the time they returned next week, everyone would have forgotten about today.


    He entered through the door, and started to step inside, but a sudden, creeping dread seized him. His skin prickled with goosebumps, and an icy shiver ran down his spine, as the inescapable feeling of a looming presence standing behind him made him freeze up.


    "Hello, Damian."


    The words slithered into his ear in a whisper, slow and sadistic, like a cat toying with a trapped mouse.


    Before he could even turn, a pushing kick sent him stumbling forward. He barely managed to catch himself as he landed awkwardly on his bed. The door slammed shut behind him, sealing him in.


    Standing in front of it, arms crossed and with a predatory glare, was none other than Vera.


    ¡°How did you¡ªVera, you know girls aren¡¯t allowed in the boys¡¯ rooms, you aren¡¯t supposed to be in here?¡±


    ¡°Oh, please. What are they gonna do? Call my dad?" Vera scoffed, stepping further inside without a care. "I¡¯m sure he¡¯d be absolutely devastated to hear that I, of all people, was in your room¡ªright between leading an entire war and managing millions of soldiers."


    She strolled past him like she owned the place, idly rummaging through his things with no regard for privacy. ¡°Besides, you should be grateful. Me getting caught in your room might actually improve that crummy reputation of yours.¡±


    Damian barely had time to process the comment before Vera plucked a comic book from one of the many haphazard stacks. She flipped through it, unimpressed, lips curling into a sneer.


    ¡°You still read these? Seriously? When are you gonna grow up?¡±


    ¡°Since when don¡¯t you? We used to read them together all the time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Used to.¡± Vera snapped the book shut and tossed it back without a second glance. ¡°Then I grew up and stopped living in fantasies.¡±


    Damian barely caught it, scowling. ¡°You only say that because you actually get to live your fantasy.¡±


    Vera scoffed, ¡°Yes, because that¡¯s my reality. Yours is that you need to stop making a fool of yourself.¡±


    ¡°Is this because I outmaneuvered  you in the mock battle?¡±


    That struck a nerve. Vera¡¯s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, her crystal pulsed as a flicker of embers curled from her clenched fist. But instead of snapping, she rolled her shoulders and scoffed, shaking it off like it was beneath her.


    ¡°As if! I only let you past me because I knew you¡¯d screw up anyway.¡± She waved him off like it wasn¡¯t even worth discussing. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t care what the Drill Sergeant says. If my strategy worked, that¡¯s her problem, not mine. Maybe she should make the test harder if she actually wants me to try.¡±


    "Anyway, this isn¡¯t about me¡ªit¡¯s about you!" Vera jabbed a finger at Damian. "You always do this. You beg the teachers to let you into some stupid course, get all fired up, pull some reckless stunt that blows up in your face¡ªthen you mope in your room until you convince yourself you¡¯ve made some ''breakthrough'' and start the cycle all over again. You¡¯re just torturing yourself!"


    She huffed, arms crossed. ¡°You think I would care if I wasn¡¯t your friend.¡±


    "Oh, is that what you are? My friend?" Damian grumbled.


    Vera¡¯s expression faltered for just a second before her brows furrowed. "What¡¯s that supposed to mean?"


    "You haven¡¯t exactly been all that friendly lately, have you?" Damian shot back. "I don¡¯t even remember the last time you talked to me in public. Half the class probably doesn¡¯t even know we know each other."


    "Don¡¯t try to turn this around. We used to do everything together when we first started at the academy."


    Damian let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, you mean you ordered me to do everything with you."


    ¡°But then you¡ª!¡± Vera cut in sharply, ignoring his retort. ¡°¡ªstarted acting all weird once your magic problems began. What was I supposed to do? Let you drag both our family names through the mud?¡±


    She sneered, arms crossed tight. ¡°Let¡¯s be honest¡ªyou wouldn¡¯t even still be here if it weren¡¯t for who your dad is. But at the rate you¡¯re going, that won¡¯t last much longer. How many more times can you mess up before they decide you¡¯re too much of an embarrassment and cut you loose? It doesn¡¯t exactly look good for the academy if they can¡¯t even teach magic to the son of the greatest Mage Soldier in the Dominion.¡±


    After that final emotional jab, whatever fight Damian had left drained from him. His shoulders slumped, and he hung his head in quiet defeat.


    Even Vera seemed to notice his shift in demeanor. In a rare moment of self-reflection, she realized she might have pushed too far. With a sigh, she plopped down beside him on the bed, her voice softening into something almost¡­ nurturing.That unsettled Damian more than her anger.


    ¡°Look, all I¡¯m saying is stop worrying,¡± She leaned back. ¡°So you can¡¯t do magic, so what? Just focus on the academic stuff and forget about all this Ace nonsense. You¡¯re still the Silver Fox¡¯s son. Once you graduate, you could land any position you want."


    She nudged his arm. ¡°And if you really want to be near the action, I can always take you with me. Once I¡¯m an Ace, you can be my number two¡ªstay safe back at command, never have to worry about hurting those pretty green eyes of yours.¡±


    "I don¡¯t want to be your manservant for the rest of my life."


    Vera smirked. ¡°Would that be so bad?¡± She leaned back on her elbows, clearly amused by the thought.


    ¡°I want to be where the action is! I want to make a difference. I want to protect people and¡­ and¡­¡± Damian trailed off, jaw tightening. He exhaled sharply and shook his head. ¡°Just forget it. You don¡¯t understand. Just leave me alone.¡±


    Without missing a beat, she shot up with an irritated snort, throwing her hands up in exasperation. ¡°Fine! I tried. But if you¡¯re so determined to wallow in pity, then I give up.¡±


    "Why did you even come here? Just to make me feel worse?" Damian muttered.


    "No, actually¡­" Vera smirked. "Believe it or not, I came to invite you to a party."


    Damian blinked. "A¡­ party?" His skepticism was written all over his face.


    Vera rolled her eyes, arms crossing. "Yes, a party. My parents are going to be out the day after the rally, which means I¡¯ll have the whole estate to myself. So I¡¯m throwing a party. And of course, I¡¯m inviting you."


    Damian narrowed his eyes. "What¡¯s the catch?"


    "Why does there have to be a catch?" Vera shot back, feigning innocence.


    "Because there¡¯s always a catch. And you''re being way too nice."


    She locked eyes with Damian, staring daggers in a last-ditch effort to scare him into silence. But Damian had known her too long and been burned too many times to fall for it.


    "Fine!" Vera huffed, throwing up her hands. "I kiiind of told everyone I was going to show off some of the cool stuff from my dad¡¯s trophy room. But I didn¡¯t realize he locked all the good stuff in the vault after¡­ well¡­"


    "The incident?"


    ¡°Yeah, well, no matter what I tried, I couldn¡¯t get in. Then I remembered your dad¡¯s study has all those war trophies and experimental gadgets, right?¡±


    Damian¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Wait¡­ You want me to break into my dad¡¯s study? No! Absolutely not!¡±


    Vera groaned, rolling her eyes. ¡°Oh, come on, Damian. Your dad leaves all that stuff sitting right there. A couple of inches of wood is a lot easier to get through than five inches of steel.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the point!¡± Damian shot back. ¡°My dad trusts me. This is exactly why your dad locked all that stuff away in the first place.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Damian, I¡¯m going to look like some desperate liar. I need this¡ªit might be my only chance to get people to think I¡¯m cool instead of, y¡¯know¡­ just being scared of me all the time.¡±


    ¡°Or¡ªand hear me out¡ªyou could just try being a little nicer. Maybe stop steamrolling people during practice.¡±


    Vera scoffed. ¡°Are you kidding? How am I supposed to be the best if I hold back all the time? Maybe they should stop being a bunch of wusses and actually give me a challenge for once.¡±


    Damian sighed. ¡°You know, you need people to actually like you for this to work.¡±


    Vera waved him off. ¡°Whatever. You need this as much as I do. You can¡¯t keep hiding in here forever.¡±


    ¡°Not forever,¡± Damian muttered. ¡°Just¡­ until I figure out whatever I need to do to get my magic working. I know I¡¯ll get it eventually.¡±


    A slow, wicked smile spread across her face¡ªas if he had just walked into her trap. "You know¡­ your dad probably has all kinds of stuff in there. Gadgets that amplify magic, crystals that change magic affinities¡­ Who knows? Maybe something in there could help with your little problem.¡±


    That was a point that immediately stuck with Damian.


    It had been years since they last got into General Dominique¡¯s collection, but he still remembered the strange gadgets and relics they¡¯d messed with. Even back then, when they barely knew what they were doing, those things let them perform magic they didn¡¯t even understand. And now, with everything he¡¯d learned so far, maybe¡­ just maybe, there was something in there that could help him.


    He had already tried everything else¡ªtraining, books, practice drills¡ªand nothing worked. If there was anything that could give him a chance of breaking past his limit, it would be among his father¡¯s collection.


    Damian¡¯s train of thought derailed as Vera leaned into his personal space, her smug smile practically glowing with self-satisfaction. ¡°Ah-ha, there it is. I knew that would get your attention.¡±


    Before he could even form a defense, she was already on her feet, barking orders like a general. ¡°Now, all you have to do is grab everything that looks cool and bring it to my place for the party.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­ I didn¡¯t sa¡ª¡±


    ¡°And if you don¡¯t,¡± she cut in smoothly, her smirk turning downright wicked, ¡°I¡¯ll tell everyone you used to wet the bed until you were twelve.¡±


    Damian stiffened. ¡°Hey, come on! That¡¯s not fair! It¡¯s not my fault I kept having those weird nightmares, and it was only a couple of times.¡±


    ¡°Then make sure you show up, and you won¡¯t have anything to worry about,¡± Vera sang, already heading for the door like the matter was settled.


    ¡°Bu¡ª¡± He made a half-hearted attempt to stop her, but she was already halfway out.


    ¡°See you tomorrow. Or else!¡± she called, flashing him one last sadistic grin before slamming the door shut in his face.


    Damian stood there, stunned, trying to process how he¡¯d just been roped into another one of Vera¡¯s schemes. Again.


    With a long, exasperated sigh, he gave in to defeat, flopping onto his bed with a groan. So much for a quiet, stress-free weekend.


    Any hope of laying low and getting a break from his problems and worries had just gone up in smoke.

 Codex #3: Magic For All

    <h2 style="text-align: center"></h2>


    <h2 style="text-align: center"> </h2>


    <h2 style="text-align: center">Codex #3</h2>


    Magic for All


    Come one, come all! I have magic¡ªmagic for sale!


    Yes, that¡¯s right¡ªno longer is magic reserved for the elite and the academics. Now even you can hold the wonder of magic in the palm of your hands!


    I¡¯ve got wands and caster watches right here. Lift stones without even touching them. Light your fireplace with nothing but a snap. Create a chilled cup of water out of thin air!


    Buy now and get your first Zastyne crystal half off!


    We even offer classes to learn your very first cantrips.


    Simple party tricks not enough for you? Want something a bit more practical?


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Well, we have crystal-powered tools and appliances as well!


    Watch as these ovens and stoves heat up almost instantly¡ªno more wood or coal needed.


    How about brand-new CrystalWave radios? Just turn it on and hear the latest musical hits¡ªno instrument in sight.


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    Well, I¡¯ve got sluggers and slingers galore! Fire away without fear of ever running out of ammo.


    And for the truly ambitious? I¡¯ve got spell cartridges too! Take a bit of time to learn these, and you¡¯ll be casting powerful spells¡ªjust like a real Mage Soldier.


    Come now and buy before they¡¯re gone!


    This is a new age.


    A Magic Age.


    And you can be a part of it too!


    -Sales Pitch from the first Kacy¡¯s Arcane Emporium