Chapter 130 Prelude to First Mission (3)

Words : 1353 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

The mission came in a sealed envelope, its holographic seal flickering faintly before dissolving under my thumbprint. Seraphina and I exchanged a glance as we skimmed the details: an assassination of a White-ranker in a city deep in the Southern continent. I could almost hear the unspoken thought passing between us—so much for easing into this new "practical evaluation." The Academy didn't coddle its students. That much was clear. Killing was not just expected but baked into the curriculum by the second year, like an unpleasant but necessary ingredient in a recipe. This was no exercise or simulation. We were being taught the ugly, functional truth of the world: sometimes, survival required you to pull the trigger or swing the blade, and sometimes, survival wasn't enough—you had to win. For now, the details of the mission were set aside, though the weight of it lingered in my mind. Instead, I turned my focus back to the ever-expanding labyrinth that was the theory of necromancy. The Lich—my Lich—was gradually taking form in my mind. Not physically, of course; it was still a scattered puzzle of components and calculations. But every hour I spent pouring over Professor Gravemore's lectures, Vakrt's reports, and my own research brought me closer to understanding how to bring it to life. Or, well, un-life. Whatever. The deeper I delved, the clearer the difference between a Lich and an Arch Lich became. It wasn't just a matter of strength or rank. An Arch Lich wasn't simply a leveled-up version of its lesser counterpart; it was a whole different beast. It required a new layer of magic—a Convergence Aspect, built around something called a Nexus Core. The Source, powerful as it was, needed to be enhanced and harmonized with the Skeleton and Skull via Astral Threads, a more advanced—and dangerous—form of mana weaving. And all of this required astral energy, the compressed, refined form of mana used in the aura method. The complexity was staggering. If building a Lich was like assembling a car, constructing an Arch Lich was like engineering a spaceship. And that wasn't even accounting for the fact that I'd need to be much stronger myself—at least Ascendant-rank—to even attempt it. The idea was both daunting and exhilarating. For now, though, I had to be realistic. My goal was the eight-star Lich, a monster powerful enough to shake the battlefield even in its limited form. But its true potential would be shackled, bound by my current rank and the limiters I'd placed on its components. In the quieter hours, I also turned my attention to light magic, hoping for progress on the White Star. My efforts were, frankly, less than stellar. I could feel the potential there, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach. The theory was sound, the techniques were practiced, but the breakthrough—the epiphany that would make it all click—eluded me. Light mana was as temperamental as its counterpart, dark mana, but in a completely different way. Where dark mana was like an unruly storm, chaotic but visceral, light mana was a quiet, elusive current. You couldn't force it; you had to understand it. But understanding didn't come easily. Not for me, at least. Every session ended with the same lingering frustration: I was close, but not close enough. I needed something to spark that missing connection—a revelation, an event, a push over the edge of understanding. For now, though, I had the Lich to focus on. One impossible goal at a time. The staff had been commissioned from Vakrt, a monumental step forward, though the bill for it loomed over me like a stormcloud. Still, it wasn't enough. 'I should absolutely ask—no, demand—something else from Alastor after I win against Lucifer,' I thought with a smirk. 'He practically threw the Skull at me. He's invested, whether he admits it or not. And Arden… well, I'll make him cough up something valuable too. A Radiant-ranker shouldn't be so stingy.' The thought of Lucifer was always there, lingering in the back of my mind like a rival shadow. In many ways, we were equals, yet utterly different. His mastery of the sword was superior to mine, no argument there. But he didn't have dark mana or light mana—the two rarest, most potent elements. I had both. That was my edge, though my edge was a double-edged blade, requiring mastery of two forces that hated each other at their core. Still, I would wield it. Sёarᴄh the novёlF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. This wasn't a novel anymore. It hadn't been since I got here. The idea of a protagonist, of someone "destined" to win, was a comforting lie. There was no destiny, no script to follow. There was just the world and what I chose to make of it. And I wasn't going to let Lucifer win. The mission was straightforward in its brutality: assassination. The target was a White-ranker residing in a city deep in the Southern continent. Seraphina and I were tasked with infiltrating and eliminating him, no questions asked. The Academy didn't mince words when it came to these evaluations. This was a real mission, not a training exercise. I found Seraphina in the library, quietly flipping through a book on ice magic. Her serene presence was as sharp and cold as ever, a contrast to the heat of the Southern continent where we were heading. "Ready for the mission?" I asked, sitting across from her. Her silver-blue eyes glanced up at me, unruffled. "I'm always ready. Are you?" "As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, leaning back in the chair. "It's an assassination, after all. I doubt they're rolling out a red carpet for us." She gave a small nod. "We'll need to be efficient. No unnecessary risks." "Of course," I said, though efficiency wasn't exactly my forte. I liked having a bit of flair. Our preparation wasn't flashy, but it was meticulous. We packed the essentials: weapons, mana potions, and tools for the mission. Our Mythos Academy student IDs acted as universal visas, a privilege afforded to us by the Academy's unparalleled influence. With the IDs, we bypassed the usual bureaucratic hassle and were cleared to travel to the Southern continent instantly. The Marasva city was a mix of old and new. Ancient stone structures stood shoulder to shoulder with sleek, futuristic buildings. Cars zipped through the streets, weaving between towering skyscrapers and over bustling markets. The heat was noticeable, though not unbearable, thanks to the temperature-controlled climate systems embedded into the city's infrastructure. As we disembarked, the hum of life in the city hit us like a wave. Vendors shouted over the din of haggling customers, and the air was thick with the smell of spices and street food. "Let's not draw attention," Seraphina said, pulling the hood of her cloak up. "I'd rather not get mobbed by fans anyway," I joked, earning an unimpressed glance from her. Our first stop was the hotel where we'd stay while gathering intel on the target. It was a modest, unassuming place tucked into a quieter part of the city. The kind of place you'd forget as soon as you left it. Perfect. Seraphina and I settled into our room—a utilitarian space with two small beds and a single window overlooking an alley. We set up our gear, checked our weapons, and reviewed the mission details one last time. The target was a White-ranker who controlled a local smuggling ring that dealt in illegal artifacts. Dangerous, well-connected, but ultimately a cog in a much larger machine. Our task was to remove that cog without anyone knowing Mythos Academy was involved. "Let's split up for now," Seraphina suggested. "I'll scout the area around his headquarters. You handle the public spaces—markets, taverns, anywhere people talk." "Got it," I said, heading for the door. The mission was about to begin.

Chapter 130 Prelude to First Mission (3)

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