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“We are stronger than your illusions. Stronger than your desire. Stronger than your magic. Far stronger than any sorcery you and your mother can ever conjure!” Samantha gritted her teeth, fury igniting. She combined her magic with the intensity of her will, pushing the assault to its peak, calling forth every trick, every spell, every fragment of power her mother had taught her. A maelstrom of fire, shadow, and psychic pressure erupted in the clearing. The very trees bent under the force, leaves snapping like brittle bones.

The mist recoils, unable to penetrate my defenses. The cloaked figures advance, their eyes glowing with an evil light. They raise their hands, and a wave of dark energy washes over me. I grit my teeth, enduring the pain. I won't be defeated. I summon all my strength, drawing upon the power of the moon. A blinding light erupts from my body, pushing back the darkness. The cloaked figures are forced to retreat, their dark magic no match for my celestial power.

“I take it as a sign of trust. He did teach me a lot of offensive Black Magic as well as a variety of spatial magic. If I recall, Platinum specialises in Elemental and Arcane Magic.” “Yes, she has created all sorts of Supreme Class magic with her knowledge. You should also pick up some close combat skills from your man here. The biggest weakness of a mage is close combat after all. I know.” “My grandma can teach you.” Matthew said. Rose was surprised to hear that. “Your grandma?”

she asked. " Margaret. That witch. It is her. I am sure it is her," the queen screamed with an anger. " Let me check her," Briada chanted some chants and then saw it was Margaret who was using the black magic but the creator was someone else. " It is sure that Margaret is using the black magic but it is not her who is creator of the black magic. The creator is as the strong power equal to mine that I am not able to see who he or she is? I am the strongest person with the magic but this person has used lots of black magic to cover up that I couldn't find out who she is ?" she said.

Rarer cases can use magic at sixteen. The magic types in this world are water, fire, air, earth, light, and darkness. The strongest magic is darkness but it is also the most dangerous one since it can corrupt the user if they are not careful enough. Light magic is something that people can use but not a lot. When someone does have light magic they are usually seen as some form of luck bringer or whatever bullshit some religious asshole tells everyone.

Mina screams as she struggles to hold the cast. If I can get her to break the cast, I doubt she would be able to do it again. Her magic isn’t that strong. Her magic is quick and powerful, but it can’t withstand use for a long time. She has what Dad likes to call burst magic. It’s a powerful burst of magic that comes off strong at first, but it can’t hold that strength for long. Sebastian can’t help me because if he steps out of the shadows, Mina can complete her spell. So, right now, it’s just me. This is a Moment where having Cas trained as a fighting familiar would come in handy.

Samael has made a spell for communication. He is talking to my grandmother inside a magic bubble, making me question his species once more. Are dragon-shifters truly capable of magic designed for witches and warlocks? "I'm sorry, you know." Blake steps forward and picks up my interest with the hint of a smile playing over his lips. He has taken off the clown costume and is showcasing his killer physique. His cologne is drifting in the wind. I'm not sure what brand it is, but whatever it is, smells fantastic.

“Your magic will be strongest tomorrow night. They’ll be distracted by you. It’s the best chance we have.” My heart pounds. This is it. The plan. The moment we’ve been working toward. “Okay,” I whisper. “Then I need to make this spell work. I grind herbs, mix powders, whisper incantations. My magic responds instantly, flaring warm and bright in my chest. Emily watches with wide eyes. “It’s getting stronger.” “I know,” I say quietly. Noah steps closer, voice low. “Raven… are you okay?”

He staggered back till his back hit the wall. “You have nothing to say about that?” I asked, drawing closer and causing sweat to break out on his forehead. His lips trembled, and he stammered, then gasped when I pulled out a blade. “Tell me the truth, how did they manage to get past you and break that lock?” I asked. “The person must have used a spell or black magic!” he blurted and my heart constricted. Spells and black magic. There was only one person who had that ability and wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

"No, she never did." He came at me, and I met him, steel against steel, and the force of it ran up through my arms the way it always had, because whatever else my brother had become, he had not become weak. Black magic does not make a man weak. It makes him hungry, and hunger is its own kind of strength, the worst kind, the kind that does not know how to stop feeding even when there is nothing left worth eating.