SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

There I sat, in the stillness of a massive crater, the only testament to the incredible energy that had surged through this place not too long ago.

The earth around me was scorched, its once vibrant hue tainted by the power of the Nether. As I stared into the distance, the silence seemed to echo my own internal turmoil.

I could feel it, the hum of magic coursing through my veins, pulsing with every beat of my heart.

The very energy that had once been my bane was now my salvation.

With each breath, I could sense the life around me, or rather, the crater, every blade of grass, every grain of sand.

It was a power I'd long coveted, yet its acquisition bore a heavy cost.

My fingers clenched, the cold touch of the Soul Fragments of my friends serving as a harsh reminder of the price I'd paid.

They had been with me, fought beside me, and now...now they were gone. Their vibrant spirits were reduced to nothing but glowing fragments in my hands.

It was my fault. I was the one who couldn't protect them.

'No… I suppose I did the best I could do.'

Back when I was still fighting the black marker monster and its purple marker underlings, I had used Spellcraft to save some of their Soul Fragments.

That mean meant one thing.

"I can bring them back," I muttered, my voice a mere whisper in the wind.

A spark of hope ignited within me.

[The Hanged Man] was an Arcana that held the power of resurrection. If I had that, I could resurrect all three of them.

But for that, I needed to find it first.

My gaze fell upon the card that lay before me.

Its ornate design seemed to mock me, an ill-omened harbinger of my trials.

"The [Death] Arcana, huh?'

Fitting, I thought, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

The very embodiment of the Labyrinth I just experienced.

"But you're also a new beginning," I found myself saying, my fingers tracing the intricate design on the card.

The cycle of life and death, an eternal dance of creation and destruction. It was, after all, through the face of death that I'd found a new life, a life filled with magic.

Besides, it was a useful piece for [The World], my current goal.

My collection of Arcanas was slowly growing, three already in my grasp.

But eighteen more still lay scattered across this world, waiting to be found.

The path ahead was daunting, each Arcana a labyrinth of trials and tribulations.

But I was no longer the same.

"I can do this," I reassured myself, my determination unwavering. "I will find them all."

There was a strange solace in my newfound solitude. Without my friends, there were no distractions, no concerns.

It was just me against the world.

As I stood up from the scorched earth of the crater, I felt an odd mix of emotions swirling within me.

I looked around at the vast expanse of emptiness. Once a labyrinth filled with life, now a barren, desolate land.

This was my doing, my victory. Yet it felt incomplete, hollow.

"There's no need to feel this way, Lewis," I muttered to myself. The truth was bitter, but undeniable.

With the power coursing through me, I didn't require assistance anymore.

I didn't need a team to face my battles. I was capable of detecting Nether, of wielding it as my weapon.

That power alone was a formidable force. Even the monstrous black marker creature could not withstand it.

'If I capitalize on that, it should make the search faster. I have the map, so it shouldn't be too difficult…'

But my thoughts couldn't escape the companions I had lost along the way.

I missed their chatter, their camaraderie, their unwavering trust in me. A part of me still yearned for their presence.

Yet, another part, the logical, strategic part, knew I could make quicker progress alone.

'And then there's the other thing… Arcanas.'

The possibility of learning to use the Arcanas of this world intrigued me.

The knowledge felt within reach, a tantalizing prospect that set my heart racing. Just imagining the different spells, the variety of effects, the sheer power they held, it was intoxicating. T

he thrill of the unknown, the delight of discovery, it was exhilarating. The thought brought an ecstatic smile on my face, a spark in my eyes.

"Yes, this is a good thing," I said aloud, my voice echoing through the stillness.

The sound of my own voice reassured me, validated my optimism. I was not alone. I had the Nether, the Arcanas, the Soul Fragments of my allies.

'I should be much faster now. Karlia won't have to suffer for too long either.'

But amidst the euphoria and anticipation, there was a nagging question at the back of my mind. One that refused to be quelled.

'How was I able to use the Nether?'

It was a mystery that bewildered me, a puzzle that demanded to be solved.

The power had come to me when I needed it the most, almost as if...as if it was waiting for the right moment.

Was it destiny? Was it some unknown entity guiding me? Or was it just the desperate plea of a dying man summoning unknown reserves of strength?

The theories whirled around in my head, each as plausible as the next.

As I stood there in the heart of the crater, I knew that this mystery, like so many others, was part of my journey.

It was a challenge. And I, Lewis Griffith, was never one to back down from a challenge.

'But there's no time to think about that now. Not yet.'