The Death Mage Who Doesn't Want A Fourth Time นิยาย & เรื่องราว

And so would I. I spat blood onto the ground and laughed bitterly. “Pathetic,” I muttered to myself. “The great Memphis, protector of the very thing he wished to consume.” But time was running short. My pulse grew weaker with every breath. I clenched my jaw. No. I wouldn’t end like this. If the world demanded my death, then I would drag it into the abyss with me. Forbidden magic. It was my last card. I raised my arms and began the chant. The words tasted like poison on my tongue. I chanted old syllables no mortal was meant to speak.

Draco had not found the mastermind since he missed the right time to investigate the issue. Draco had a feeling it was one of his mafia lords, but he couldn't be sure since they were like a brotherhood and he was their leader. Even though he knew some of them wanted to rebel and he had put measures in place so that even if they decided to betray him, it would be like using a double-edged sword, both sides were deadly.

"What? What about it? A disabled person like her won't be useful to society anyway. She's the perfect candidate to take the fall for us." These people were absolutely revolting. I was very glad that I was no longer alive at that point. Layla pulled herself away and said through clenched teeth, "Colin must have come here for that useless wench. Hmph! What's so good about that wench?" I hovered at the side and looked at Layla expressionlessly. I wondered if she was finally going to admit that she had killed me. Also, I was curious to see how Philip and Brenda would react when they found out the person they had skinned and cut up to pieces was me.

The reverse rings around Death’s neck cracked, shattered, returned to scattered fragments on the floor. “What happened?” My voice cracked. “He was right there.” Death regarded me without pity or malice. “He rejected your offer,” she said simply. “Your brother does not wish to return.” “No.” The word tore out of me. “After everything—” “Some doors open only once,” she said. “And some souls choose to stay beyond them.” The medallion flared one final time — then went dark. Mana drained from my rings, my body, my very bones. Power fled like water through fingers.

"Or faries. At least that's what Magnus the first thought." "Which Magnus are we dealing with right now?" "Magnus the fifth," Clark scrolls through the page. "Decanted the day after our father's death. Apparently Magnus the fourth died in the explosion." My stomach curdles as I think of the clones in a room waiting to wake. "But how..."

The Black Mage’s Point of View I stand in front of the mirror, motionless, watching my own reflection like I’m watching a stranger. The flickering candlelight twists the shadows across my face, making me look older, sharper. My eyes are black as coal now. They used to be blue once, before the power fully took me. That stupid elder actually did his job well. Better than I expected. Too bad he died. I could’ve used him a little longer, squeezed more destruction out of him. But I don’t mourn his death—I only mourn wasted potential.

Evan smiled, and before anyone could anticipate it, he used the scalpel to stab himself in the heart. Standing beside Evan, I screamed and cried. Countless people walked through me to try and save Evan. Alas, he was indeed an exceptional medical examiner. He knew the fastest way to die. Evan's body continued to twitch slightly. In his final moment, I saw him pointing toward me with his finger. He seemed to have spotted me. Smiling, he closed his eyes, putting an end to the last of his lingering attachment to this world. The situation descended into chaos as another medical examiner shook his head, signifying to Henry that Evan was dead.

He then sent the knight Jules Weber to make the journey overnight so that the declaration of war could be delivered the next morning. Christine understood what Master Dubois had done. He had a good relationship with her father, but not so good that he would knowingly go to his death. Even if the two sides are at war, according to the agreement between the Mage Guild and each country, mages will not participate in a fight to the death. In other words, mages have the right to withdraw if they feel there is no way to win. This is, of course, because there are too few mages and they need to be protected, and the reason why each kingdom agreed to sign the agreement is also because there is no oth

I wouldn’t be like them. I couldn’t forget the chilling memory of the lead dark mage—the one I had killed so effortlessly. The one who had crossed me once, only to end up a skeleton in seconds after my touch had burned through him. The image of his desiccated form, his eyes wide with terror, haunted me. The power I wielded, the destruction it caused, was a double-edged sword. I had to control it, had to resist the urge to let it take over again. I’m not a monster, I reminded myself. I’m not like them.