Novel & Cerita Staff Of Arcane Authority

He said. Season 2 ended here! Author note: Hello everyone!! Please continue to read ARCANUM because, there will be a side story which about Steven and Nicolai. See you on Season 3!!!

Chapter 36: The Summons "Your Majesty." The hall echoed with the synchronized voices of those kneeling before Alaric with their heads bowed low in reverence. Alaric's gaze swept over the gathered assembly. His piercing eyes took in the collection of mages, summoners, and mediums from across the kingdoms. But one figure in particular captured his attention—a tall, cloaked man with an air of both mystery and authority. It was Zavian, the rumored wise wizard who practiced both the light and dark arts.

This one didn’t knock. He appeared in the throne room in a flash of silver light and black smoke, dropping to one knee before us. He was old. Older than Darius. His robes were marked with symbols I didn’t recognize, and his eyes were pure white. “I am Magister Thorne of the Arcane Council,” he said, voice echoing in the chamber. “I come as the last neutral party before war begins. The other realms are mobilizing. They will not wait long.” He looked at Aria. Really looked, and his white eyes widened.

The Sacrificial Offering Manifestation was the most dreaded manifestation among arcane seekers. Even an Arcane High Priest wouldn't dare take it lightly. Once someone entered the manifestation, it would shift according to the conjurer's will, and escape was only possible by breaking it from within. Such an ancient manifestation was beyond anyone's knowledge, except for those few from the Dracotigris Order, Suncrest Sect, and Greenshade Guild who were just as old and close to death as Tobias was.

"Yeah… I agreed to do anything you ask me to and be at your fucking beck and call, but this? You know I can't be seen much in the kingdom, everyone thinks I'm dead." "The sacred magical staff shouldn't land in the wrong hands, Alpha. The one who has it can wield any kind of magic even if they are not a mage. Do you know what else the staff can do?" She asks, leaning over the desk. "It can harness enough magical fire to wipe out an entire army of Lycans," she adds and sits back. "So tell me again that you don't want to find it." My brows meet as I try to figure out who would steal the sacred magical staff from the ancient tombs knowing fully well it's forbidden.

“I have spent my life in that temple, watching people suffer from powers they don’t understand. Watching Warden after Warden sacrifice themselves and die to maintain a ‘balance’ that only benefits spirits and monsters! Enough! I will end it, and with this staff, an artifact from the age before Aethelford, I can!” He thrust the staff high, and the purple light intensified. From deep within the earth, a tremor began. The ley line that had just been purified was now churning, being pulled by that foreign force. “He’s pulling the ley line here, to this junction,” Elara shouted. “We have to stop him!” But their condition was pitiful: Siron was drained and grieving, Kit was barely conscious, Stefa

“Time to go.” He walked straight past us and aimed for the trees. I stared around me wondering how I’d ended up in the company of so many strange men. Rampage the magical furious barbarian. Killian the black-haired, smokey Warlord. BailaLae the girl of vines, wearing only an armored tunic. Tanya the short fiery brunette barking orders at the other mages. Willow emerged from the castle and the wind seemed to hum. Her energy reaching like fingers as the other sounds seemed to still. Beckoning all eyes to turn to her.

"It shall be done." Xavier’s gaze moved down the table, assigning roles with precision. Selene, the seer, would monitor the future for any shifts in the devils’ plans. Garrick, the strategist, would coordinate the group's actions from the field. Asher, the alchemist, would prepare weapons and artifacts capable of countering infernal magic. Each member left the meeting with a clear purpose, but the weight of their mission was evident.

Standing around the massive, white marble map table were the only four individuals who possessed the security clearance to access Level Two of the dungeons: Beta Torin, General Kael, Elder Vance, and a man I had not formally met yet the High Warlock of the Northern Shadows, an ancient, skeletal man wrapped in dark crimson robes. They all snapped to attention the second we crossed the threshold. "Sire," Torin breathed, his amber eyes darting from Silas to me. Torin’s nostrils flared involuntarily. I watched the realization hit him like a physical blow. The gruff, battle hardened Beta swallowed hard, his posture instantly shifting from military readiness to absolute, biological submission. He

Seraphina joined in, their voices merging in a powerful incantation. But as the last syllable left their lips, a powerful force knocked them off their feet, sending them sprawling. From the shadows, a figure emerged, draped in a cloak of darkness, its face obscured. In its hand, it held a staff that pulsed with a malevolent energy. With a voice that sent shivers down their spines, the figure declared, "The temple's secrets are not for you to uncover. Leave now, or face the consequences."