Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

On the other ship, drifting side by side with the one Brigham was on, the atmosphere was as tense.

The tall-masted ship was filled with Rank 1 and 2 Magi. And the one leading them was none other than one of the councilors of Ravenfell, Rank 3 - Mana Vortex Magus, Daniel Ranzenberg.

Daniel, an old man with short white hair and a burly physique that was the opposite of Brigham's frail constitution, looked in the direction of Blackshore.

Although the city wasn't visible to him because of the darkness and the fog, he knew that they would arrive by sunset.

And once they arrived, only blood and carnage awaited them.

The man then turned toward the other ship, his gaze drawn to Brigham, who was standing on the deck, lost in thought.

Daniel's eyes narrowed, his thoughts… a mystery.

"Lord Ranzenberg, we found two more!" A Rank 2 Magus approached him, respectfully reporting.

Daniel turned to the man, looked him in the eyes, and silently nodded.

That was all the man needed to know before he turned back around and instructed a few other Magi to bring forth two men dressed in black, their clothes completely drenched from having just come out from underwater.

These two men were made to forcefully kneel before the councilor, both had looks of fear and unwillingness in thier eyes.

"My Lord, these are the scouts from Blackshore," said the Magus. "Although judging by their pale and cold skin, I would say they have embarked on the path of necromancy, making it very very likely that they're from the Cult. What do you think, my lord?"

Daniel's eyes narrowed. He was not expecting the Cult members to still have a presence in Blackshore.

Until now, all the scouts they had come across and dealt with belonged to the Umbra Thieves. However, these two belonged to the Cult of Bones instead.

Daniel's eyes flickered with a strange light. He unsheathed the weapon hanging from his waist and raised one of the captive's chin with the tip of his blade.

He looked deeply into the man's eyes. It was a young man, probably in his twenties. He had pale skin and his pupils flashed with immense horror.

Despite feeling such emotions and the primal fear gripping his heart, he did not utter a word. Neither did he beg for mercy, nor did he divulge where he was from.

Daniel's lips parted and he coldly muttered, "Unwilling to speak in the face of death despite the terror blanketing your heart."

He raised his hand and swung his sword, his face emotionless as ever.

THUD! THUD!

Two severed heads fell on the wooden deck of the ship. Daniel flicked his blade, getting rid of the blood and filth on it, before sheathing it calmly.

He closed his eyes and stood unmoving as a mountain.

His lips parted again and he muttered, "Brainwashed by the Cult."

At once, a terrifying foreboding feeling descended upon all the Magi on the ship. They looked at each other and could see the panic and apprehension in each other's eyes.

All this while, they were under the impression that they were going to fight the forces of the Umbra Thieves in Blackshore.

Although there was still a very minuscule chance that there might be the presence of the Cult of Bones, they had completely overlooked that matter.

It was as Adam had speculated…

Someone had cast a large-scale, high-level spell from the School of Enchantment!

"My Lord… does that mean we might have to face both the Umbra Thieves and the Cult of Bones in Blackshore?!" Asked a Magus, his tone oozing with nervousness.

"But… do we even have enough people on our side?" Asked another.

Daniel Ranzenberg remained silent, his calm demeanor subconsciously affecting the Magi around him and causing them to calm down as well.

Then, he opened his eyes and turned towards the other ship. "Inform Brigham of this development. I shall go meet Nylian."

"Yes, my lord!" At once, the Magi scattered. Some made their way toward Brigham's ship, while others moved back to their stations and began to prepare for the impending bloody battle.

Daniel Ranzenberg then crouched low, exerting strength in his legs. Then, he jumped, reaching the ship's crow's nest effortlessly.

Then, he leaped again, this time piercing through the clouds!

As he cast simple spells to boost his ascent, his eyes narrowed and the image of a shadowy figure emerged inside his mind.

He couldn't help but wonder to himself, Just what were you thinking…

…

Darkfang Docks, Blackshore.

In one of the many rotten piers facing the the Galestine Ocean, two figures stood side by side. One of them was a burly man with long, brown hair, and the other was a man with blond hair, however, he looked extremely effeminate.

These were none other than Kael and Liriel in disguises. Gazing at the fog-laden horizon, the former muttered solemnly, "When the sun rises, they should be here."

"According to my estimates, I think so too," said Liriel.

They turned around, their gaze drawn to expansive dockside. It was filled with buildings of all shapes and sizes. Beyond the rows of warehouses and shipyards was the Floating Marketplace.

Tonight, this entire place would be set ablaze.

"Are the father-and-son merchants ready?" Asked Kael.

"They should be." Liriel nodded. "Even if they aren't, there are still several contingencies left in place."

"Good." Kael turned his attention towards the piers, where several ships were anchored. His gaze traveled past the city's fleet and landed on the towering rocky cliff on the other side.

"...Is Valerian ready?" He asked, his voice laced with slight doubts.

"Yes." Liriel nodded with complicated emotions. "We have no other choice but to trust him."

She paused for a moment before adding, "Rest assured, I've left hundreds of Potions of Explosions with him."

Kael took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright, let us trust in him!"

He then held Liriel's hand, gently squeezing it. His lips formed a smile and he asked, "Ready to burn another rotten city to the ground?"

The woman matched his gaze and smiled back, "With you by my side, I wouldn't fear, even if I had to burn the world."

Then, the two Agents of the Brotherhood strode towards the city.

Meanwhile, on the towering cliff overlooking the city's dockside, a chubby gray cat stood proudly.

The cat had donned a red-star earring in his furry right ear. Moreover, he was also wearing gold-rimmed, round eyeglasses.

He took a tiny step forward, gazing contemptuously at the dozen or so tall-masted ships through his piercing topaz eyes.

The cat lifted his furry little chin a little and snorted in an aloof manner. "The time has come," he said coolly.

"Tremble before the wrath of the dragon, you wretched mongrels!"