The Magi World was a High World, a realm where the natural laws were not just stable but exquisitely refined. The flow of natural energy here was immense—so abundant that it saturated the land, the oceans, and even the skies. In the grand hierarchy of existence, it was counted among the Principal Worlds of the multiverse, a place whose name inspired both ambition and dread.
To outsiders, Magi were known for their cruelty, cold pragmatism, and appetite for war. They were not merely conquerors; they were calculated harbingers of destruction, stripping Middle and Lower Worlds bare of resources, enslaving populations, and dismantling entire Planes for their own gain.
And yet, that was the way of the Magi World.
The more complete a world's laws, the easier it was to give birth to powerful life forms—creatures and warriors capable not only of defending their home but also of invading and dominating others. The Magi World thrived on that principle, forging strength through competition and bloodshed.
It was vast—hundreds of continents sprawled across oceans and skies, each rich with natural energy and dangerous wonders. While countless factions existed within it, three great powers divided most of the world between them.
One of those powers was the Aeternum Empire, a sprawling coalition of hundreds of Magus clans, both great and small. They ruled the central lands, where magic was thick enough to taste in the air.
The Zanabi Tower, where Zatiel had once resided, belonged to the Zanabi family—a minor clan under the Aeternum banner, stationed at the very periphery of the Empire's holdings.
When Zatiel left the Grey Swamp, he never even considered returning to the Zanabi Tower. Doing so would have been an invitation to disaster. Less than three months ago, he had departed as a mere Rank 1 Apprentice Magus. Now, he possessed the power of a Rank 3 Apprentice. That kind of meteoric rise was the sort of anomaly that drew dangerous attention.
The Magus in charge of the tower would undoubtedly want answers. Answers, in this world, were often extracted through invasive mental probes—or worse, through physical dissection to uncover whatever secrets lay hidden in the body. If that meant killing him afterward, so be it. Here, the death of an Apprentice—no matter how talented—was nothing worth questioning if a full Magus had reason.
Fortunately, Zatiel was not worried about pursuit. The Apprentices who had lured him into the swamp and abandoned him to die would be in no hurry to explain the truth. They would concoct their own tale—probably claiming that he had been devoured by some magical creature. It would cover their tracks, and they had no reason to admit their betrayal.
His destination lay elsewhere: the Sinux Magic Tower, directly controlled by the Aeternum Empire itself.
Sinux was a strategic hub. It stood near one of the entrances to the Underground Zone and at the edge of the Endless Forest—a wild, uncivilized region teeming with magical beasts, some strong enough to rival even the mightiest Magi of the world. It was a place of peril and opportunity alike. Those bold enough to venture there could find rare materials and treasures beyond measure. Whether they returned alive was a question of strength and luck.
From the Grey Swamp, Sinux lay about ten thousand kilometers away. The journey would take months, but most of the path cut through human kingdoms and lesser danger zones—nothing that could truly threaten Zatiel or Ezequiel.
They traveled by day, running to hone their agility spells, resting only at night. When they crossed areas inhabited by magical creatures, they hunted. The kills were either eaten directly—absorbing their energy to strengthen themselves—or harvested for valuable parts.
The Chaotic Core could be cultivated in several ways. The most common was to draw in natural energies from the surrounding world, letting the Core absorb and refine them into Abyss Aura. Another was to consume high-energy substances—like the flesh, organs, or crystals of magical beasts. Hunting thus served a dual purpose: survival training and growth.
Zatiel let Ezequiel take the lead in most of these hunts. The boy needed real combat experience, and this was the perfect crucible. Zatiel always observed from the sidelines, ready to step in if things went awry.
Right now, Ezequiel was locked in combat with a Metallic Bear—a massive beast with silver-gray fur that gleamed like forged steel. It moved with crushing force, every swipe of its claws capable of splitting stone. By raw power alone, it outclassed the boy.
But the moment Ezequiel activated Lightning Armor, the fight turned.
The crackle of electricity filled the air as arcs of blue-white light raced over his frame. His dagger—a double-edged blade scavenged from a bandit camp—flashed in his hand. Lightning leapt from his body to the weapon, turning it into a conductor of lethal force.
From his vantage point, Zatiel's eyes narrowed with approval. He's already extended the Lightning Armor to cover objects beyond his own body. That surpasses the base limitations of the spell. Lightning suits him well.
Ezequiel fought with a predator's patience. He struck only when an opening presented itself, targeting the beast's vitals. Years of assassin work showed in his economy of motion—each attack deliberate, each feint calculated.
As the duel wore on, the bear staggered, blood seeping from shallow cuts. The lightning around Ezequiel began to dim—his Abyss Aura reserves waning. Sensing his moment, he feinted left, slipped behind the creature, and drove the dagger deep into its skull. The beast convulsed once, then collapsed with a metallic thud.
"Well done, little EZ," Zatiel called, walking closer. "But remember—never drain your Abyss Aura completely. If something unexpected appears, you'll be too weak to react."
He studied the boy's stance, his breathing. With this level of ability, he could handle a Rank 3 Apprentice with ease. With surprise on his side, he might even take down a Pseudo-Magus.
Ezequiel nodded silently, replaying the fight in his mind, dissecting his mistakes.
Three months passed in this rhythm—travel, training, hunting. By the time they reached the territory of the Sinux Magic Tower, their packs were stuffed with the spoils of their hunts: hides, fangs, claws, and cores.
The closer they drew to the tower, the more signs of civilization appeared. Inns with swinging signs, weapon-smiths hammering steel, merchants hawking wares. Even brothels with bright lanterns and beckoning girls lined the busier streets.
At the city gate, a faint ripple of energy washed over them. It was gone in a heartbeat, but Zatiel caught it immediately.
A detection spell, he noted. It scans for power levels. Once it saw we were below Rank 1 Magus, it withdrew. Sensible—Rank 3 Apprentices pose no threat to a magic tower.
His Chaotic Core's design kept it perfectly hidden. Anyone probing him would sense only his spirit force; the Core itself was undetectable without a vastly superior cultivator.
And then they saw it.
The Sinux Magic Tower rose above the city like a black monolith, three hundred meters tall. Its walls were forged from obsidian metal, inlaid with glowing runes that pulsed at irregular intervals. The aura it exuded pressed down on the surroundings like a silent weight, forcing the unprepared to avert their gaze.
It was Ezequiel's first time seeing such a structure. The sheer concentration of energy within it made his skin prickle.
Zatiel glanced at him but said nothing. Even he felt a flicker of appreciation—not for its size or the energy, but for the craftsmanship of the runes. The one who inscribed these was a master. These markings could empower the tower's controller to defeat an opponent a full rank higher.
They moved toward the tower's entrance to register as apprentices.
Their presence did not go unnoticed. Two newcomers with the aura of Rank 3 Apprentices—and heavy packs bulging with magical creature parts—were bound to attract attention. Apprentices loitering nearby eyed them with thinly veiled greed.
None made a move immediately. They seemed… to be waiting.
And then he appeared.
A man stepped forward—2.5 meters tall, shoulders like boulders, muscles corded with strength. The aura he gave off marked him as a Rank 3 Body-Refinement Apprentice. His square jaw twisted into a predatory grin.
"Stop there, little brats," he called. "Since you're new, I'll explain how things work here. I'm Nick. I check all materials brought to the tower. Hand over your bags so I can inspect them. If you resist, I'll assume you're hiding something… and take them by force."
It was blatant robbery, but the other apprentices didn't so much as blink.
"The newcomers drew the short straw.""Hmph, their fault for flashing their spoils.""Nick pulls this stunt all the time.""What can you do? His brother's his backer."
Nick waited, expecting either submission or futile protest. He got neither.
Zatiel chuckled. "Hahaha! A cliché scene right at my arrival? Perfect timing. I was looking for a guide—you'll do nicely."
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Nick's face darkened. If he let this pass, he'd be mocked for weeks.
"You little shit! I'll teach you—" He lunged mid-sentence, his massive fist swinging toward Zatiel's skull.
He never connected.
A blur of lightning was suddenly at his side, and a boot slammed toward his head. Nick barely managed to raise an arm to block, but the electric impact still blasted him backward five meters.
"You bastard—" he started, but the lightning figure was already there again, this time in front of him. A fist drove into his gut with crushing force, making him vomit blood. The blows came in a storm—rapid, precise, punishing. Each strike sent arcs of pain through his nerves, the lightning searing through muscle and bone.
Finally, the figure seized his head and smashed it into the ground. Teeth scattered across the dirt.
The lightning faded, revealing Ezequiel standing calmly beside the crumpled Nick, his expression unreadable.
Gasps and murmurs spread. Nick had been feared for a reason, yet this boy—this kid—had taken him apart like an amateur.
"He's too strong…""That's terrifying.""Nick's brother won't ignore this."
Zatiel ignored the chatter. Establishing dominance was necessary here. Without it, they'd be easy prey.
He walked over to Nick, hauled him up by the neck, and smiled coldly. "Now… be a good guide. Tell us where to register new apprentices."