In the chaos, a stray flame grazed Kay's cheek. It wasn't a severe wound, but it left a stinging burn. Lina, standing nearby, fared worse—she'd dodged the initial fire pillar and rain of flames, but the following hurricane had hurled her tiny body dozens of meters away.
"Lina!" Kay shouted. He cast Feather Light on himself, then raced to her, his body glowing with yellow light. The glow came from a ring Moses had given him—a magical artifact storing an earth-element shield. By the time he reached her, Lina's waist was soaked in blood, but the tough woman had already cast her own Feather Light and other buffing spells. As a high-tier apprentice, she knew more magic types—including a shield spell, though it required chanting, unlike Kay's ring, which activated instantly.
Kay lifted her into his arms. Together, they surveyed the carnage. Protected by the earth shield, they were lucky; other apprentices lay dead or dying, their weak attempts to resist drowned out by the surging fire and wind elements.
"How did you Dawn Holy Tower find Shadow Valley so fast—so precisely?!" a furious, aged voice roared from the shattered, element-choked portal. "Is there a traitor?!"
The voice alone sent many apprentices—already on edge or wounded—spitting up blood. A single mental shock, charged with rage, had crippled them. How powerful must its owner be?
"Heh. Find the answer yourself," a younger, righteous voice replied, echoing through the void. "You openly practice dark magic on the Wizarding Continent, kidnap countless people, slaughter civilians… and dare to break the spatial rift seal the Summer Guardian set. I, Romward of the Dawn Holy Tower, swear by the Holy Tower's laws—I will kill you."
"You? If your Tower Lord came personally, I'd bow to his Tier 5 Peak Saint Mage power," the old voice scoffed. "But you—barely a Tier 3 Peak—do you even understand true law manipulation?"
"We'll see if I understand," the young voice ed. "Experience my fire-wind magic for yourself."
Two Tier 3 Peak powerhouses—both touching the edges of law—clashed near the portal. The old voice likely belonged to Menzoberranzan's Lord, the Dark Mage Academy's Dean. He tried repeatedly to charge through the portal, but Romward blocked him every time. The air thickened with fire and wind; the elements fed off each other, trapping the Dean on the other side. For the apprentices, though, the storm was a death sentence. Even a quasi-mage—skilled with shields—was melted by the fire rain before he could chant. This wasn't ordinary flame; its fire-element density dwarfed anything Kay or Lina could conjure.
Kay lost sight of Phil and Zorro in the chaos. Flames and gales raged everywhere—surviving was hard enough; worrying about others was impossible.
"Heh heh… you Holy Tower mages love pretending to be righteous," the old voice cackled. "Over a hundred innocent apprentices on your side—your fire-wind magic just wiped out half of them. They're the Wizarding World's future! They never broke your rules… yet you killed them like insects. Tell me—who's the real Dark Mage here?"
"Collateral damage is inevitable when hunting Dark Mages," Romward retorted. "Using civilians as shields—isn't that your favorite trick to evade the Holy Towers and Knight Orders? As for the apprentices… even if some are innocent, they were raised by you. They'll become plagues on the Wizarding World."
Kay and the surviving apprentices paled. But fortune favored them—another voice cut in, softer but firm: "Senior Romward, the low-tier and beginner apprentices we rescued earlier—many are innocent. The beginners are under ten… victims of these Dark Mages. As Holy Tower Mages, we must save them."
It was a lifeline. The fire and wind ebbed slightly. Kay's crystal ball suddenly flickered to life—Zorro's voice crackled through: "Hurry! Activate your Elemental Orbs! It's our only way out of the Sand World!"
Zorro's warning jolted Kay into action. He held Lina tight and sprinted toward the portal. Lina's condition was worse than he'd thought—her face paled by the second, blood seeping through her robe—but she cast Haste on him, boosting his speed. Even so, they lagged behind the first wave of apprentices; Kay was farther from the portal, and Lina's weight slowed him down.
Zorro reached the portal first. He wasn't a fighter, but his magical artifacts made up for it—most notably a pair of flying boots (a formal magical tool) that let him glide short distances. He didn't dive into the portal, though—it was too unstable. Instead, he pulled out a handful of glowing Elemental Orbs, channeling his mana into them. A red beam of energy shot upward.
"Hmph," a cold female voice replied from the portal.
Zorro recognized it. "Thank you, Vice-Dean!" he shouted, relief flooding his voice. The beam wrapped around him, yanking him through the rift. Two more quasi-mages—using Levitation—followed, pulled by similar beams.
If Vice-Dean Jonny had time to rescue them, the Dark Mages must not be losing the fight. The sight of the quasi-mages escaping spurred the others. Those with Orbs and speed raced forward; those without—wounded, far from the portal—descended into madness.
Kay saw a quasi-mage, his lower body burned to a crisp, lash out at anyone nearby. In Menzoberranzan's toxic environment, few apprentices were "normal." Kay, with his last shreds of morality, was an outlier. Facing death, this quasi-mage had snapped—he wanted to drag others down with him. If not for the crisis, he might have become a formal Dark Mage in a decade… cruel, twisted, and powerful.
Even more terrifying were the mid-tier apprentices—fifty of them, long oppressed, now without Orbs to save themselves. They turned on the high-tiers and quasi-mages who'd bullied them.
"Die! Give me your Orb!" a mid-tier fire mage screamed, charging a paralyzed quasi-mage with two massive fireballs. He struck from behind, a cheap shot—but the quasi-mage was far stronger. A stone wall erupted from the sand, blocking the fireballs; then a hail of earth spears skewered the attacker, turning him into a bloody sieve.
"That's Krobb," Lina whispered weakly. "Top three among the quasi-mages. Even with his legs burned… we can't fight him. Go around."
Kay changed course—but trouble found him anyway. Three mid-tier apprentices blocked his path. One was Hobbie, a sneaky, underhanded boy Kay knew. Dark Mages knew to pick on the weak—and Kay, carrying an injured Lina, looked like easy prey.
"Hand over your Orb!" Hobbie shrieked, his arm burned, his face streaked with blood.
Hobbie and the two other mid-tier apprentices made Kay's eyes narrow—but the bigger threat loomed: more mid-tiers were eyeing him and Lina, seeing easy prey. If he didn't take care of Hobbie's group fast, they'd be swarmed.
Kay began chanting, summoning a mid-tier Fire Hand—but Lina was faster. A deep blue Blast Fireball materialized in her palm. Kay knew its power; he'd seen it decimate enemies in the Black Street fight. But now, its real value lay in the chaos: when it exploded, it would split into over twenty smaller fireballs, scattering their pursuers.
After ten years as lovers, they thought in sync. As Kay carried her forward, his Invisibility Cloak flickered to life. One moment, they were there—the next, gone.
The Fire Hand and Blast Fireball struck simultaneously, erupting into a wall of flame. Screams filled the air. Hobbie's group lost their target; Kay and Lina's earth shield didn't even crack. The three apprentices? They vanished into the fire—Kay didn't look back to check if they lived.
The crisis wasn't over. Four more mid-tiers surrounded them, driven by desperation. Kay gripped his Acid Staff; Lina summoned her Hurricane Staff—both loaded with high-tier spells. But before they could strike, a roar cut through the fray.
"Get out of my way!"
A massive black figure barrelled toward the portal, faster than any ordinary apprentice. It was Stanson, in his blood-beast form—even more imposing than when Kay had first met him. At three meters tall, he swatted one mid-tier aside like a fly. Another, foolish enough to block his path, took an ice spike to the skull from Mali—who clung to Stanson's back—dropping dead instantly.
The two mid-tiers targeting Kay and Lina were gone. Kay didn't waste time thanking them; he and Lina unleashed their staffs' spells. Two more apprentices fell. Then, a stray elemental bolt hit Kay—his invisibility flickered, and his shield absorbed the blow, but it slowed him down.
"Kay, hurry!" Phil's voice cut through the chaos. She was already near the portal, her staff glowing. A high-tier Fire Blade sliced through the air, followed by four mid-tier spells—pre-charged in her artifacts—clearing a path for him.
With Phil's cover and Mali and Stanson's distraction, Kay summoned his last burst of strength. He reached the portal, raised his Elemental Orbs, and channeled his mana. A red beam locked onto him—relief washed over him.
Phil, Mali, and Stanson vanished first, pulled through by their own beams. Kay wondered how they'd gotten Orbs—he'd taken theirs months ago. They must have robbed other apprentices, or ambushed a high-tier.
Then the ground shook.
"Trying to stop me from entering that world?" the old voice snarled—Menzoberranzan's Lord. "Then this rift and its coordinates can burn! If I can't have it, no one will!"
Elemental chaos erupted, shaking the very fabric of the Sand World. On the horizon, a colossal sandstorm—originally miles away—veered toward them, dragged by Tier 3 Peak magic. Worse, the beam around Kay and Lina dimmed; the pull weakened.
"I can only take one of you," the cold female voice said—Vice-Dean Jonny. "You. Moses' apprentice."
Kay froze. Lina's face remained calm, almost serene—but her fluttering eyelashes betrayed her. She said nothing.
"No!" Kay shouted. In an instant, he made his choice. He stuffed all his Orbs into Lina's hand.
"Twelve years ago, I wouldn't have survived without you," he said, voice tight. "Six years ago… that night. I'll never forget it. Let me do this for you."
The beam around Kay vanished. Around Lina, it blazed brighter—fueled by a dozen Orbs. She opened her mouth, as if to speak—but the light flashed, and she was gone. A black crystal bracelet fell to the sand—her most prized possession, a gift from her old mentor.
Kay caught it. It was cold, but he swore he felt her warmth in it. Survive, he thought. The Underdark was dangerous—Tier 3 mages fought there—but it was better than here.
The sandstorm hit.
It swallowed Kay, and the few remaining apprentices, in an instant. The last thing he saw before blacking out was a flash of black light.
When Kay woke, every bone ached. He groaned—a hoarse, weak sound—echoing in a vast, funnel-shaped sand valley. The storm must have carried him here. At the valley's center, a soft "rustle" filled the air—unsettling, even though he saw nothing.
He checked his injuries: small cuts covered his face, arms, and legs—from wind-blown sand and shrapnel. Two wounds mattered: a deep gash in his abdomen (bloodied, but no longer gushing) and a dislocated left arm. Only his right arm moved freely. This was the worst shape he'd ever been in.
How had he survived? A Tier 3-warped sandstorm would kill a quasi-mage. He glanced at his ring—the earth shield was drained. Then he remembered the black light. He pried open his numb left hand.
Lina's bracelet.
He'd known it boosted dark magic and held an attack spell—but not that it could shield him. "Better than my Acid Staff," he muttered. A formal mage's gift, indeed.
Survival came first. He fumbled with his spatial ring, pulling out two mid-tier healing potions. He drank one, then poured the other over his wounds. A stinging, tingling sensation spread—pain, but welcome. As a student of anatomy (thanks to Master Corso's dissecting classes), he knew pain meant his nerves still worked. No pain?意味 (meant) death, or amputation.
He rested for half a day, then drank a vitality potion and his last nutrient potion. Strength returned, enough to fix his arm.
"Corso always said I had a steady hand," he muttered. "Never practiced on a living person, though." He took a deep breath, grabbed his left shoulder with his right hand, and twisted.
Crack.
Kay's face paled, sweat dripping. He forced a grim smile—he'd reset it, even if his was clumsy.
Now, he surveyed the valley. The "rustle" from the center still sent chills down his spine, but the rest seemed safe. He thought of the other apprentices: thirty or forty had been at the portal when the storm hit. Few could have survived—but he didn't care to find them.
The mid-tiers' greed had split him from Lina. He owed them nothing. But he needed Orbs—his last hope lay in the black handle Moses had given him. To activate it, he needed Orbs. He'd given all his to Lina.
So he'd search the dead.
If he found enough Orbs, he might escape. If not? He'd die here, in the sand—buried, forgotten.
Kay stood, wincing, and started walking. Survival wasn't guaranteed. But he'd fight for it—for Lina, and for the chance to see her again.