SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

There are countless stories passed down from the times of old.

Tales of mysteries that have yet to be deciphered. Legends of beings that defy imagination, and existences that have long since existed.

Of these many tales, one of them has always been embedded into the hearts of men. The Celestial War.

In a world of magic and swords, natural and supernatural, there were also bound to be concepts of gods and demons.

Where there is light, there is bound to be darkness lurking about... and the existence of good births a notion of evil.

And so, now lost to humanity and civility, far beyond the lands inhabited by beings of light, exists a kingdom of eternal darkness.

The Demon Realm!

In this world of the vilest creatures with the most depraved natures, something spectacular was occurring... it was a battle, one among two creatures of darkness.

The stage was set, the spectators present, and the high seat was erected. With everyone watching and the two standing on stage, there was only one thing the denizens expected.

A Fight!

No notice was given before both creatures lunged at each other. Like shadows piercing through the night, their distorted bodies exchanged blows, moving fluidly according to the tempo of battle and clashing.

This frenzied dance lasted for so long, yet none landed a solid blow on the other. They kept attacking and defending, using all manner of abilities to achieve a stalemate.

>SWISH<

One of the fighters turned their limbs into blades, sending of charging at the other fighter, desperate to win. If no action was taken by the latter, they could lose their lives.

However, it appeared the one on the other end of the blade was faster than the shadow who lunged the piercing attack. The shadow dodged the fatal hit, and in an instant vanished, becoming one with darkness.

Puzzlement filled the eyes of the assaulter, trying to figure out the location of their target. The moment they realized what was going on, it was too late.

A large spike, big enough to tear anyone to pieces, while sharp enough to rend even the toughest of materials appeared from the ground, materializing from a shadow.

>SQUISH<

It pierced the other dark being in the chest. The sudden force raised the wounded one high, unable to do much but struggle and squirm as a result of its body being impaled.

The being's powerless struggle didn't last for long, as they turned into a shadow too, vanishing from the spike and materializing away from danger.

After reaching a considerable distance from the spike, they fell to their knees, clutching the wide hole that appeared in their chest.

Grunts of pain were heard, though the wounded one tried their best to stifle it. It still leaked out, and from the posture they made, it was clear to everyone who watched, that the one who landed the first hit was superior.

Like clockwork, the successful one appeared, returning from the shadow from where he disappeared to. They walked toward the kneeling one, already assured of victory.

After all, this match had one simple rule. In order not to waste the time of those who watched, the first to land a did hit would be the winner.

Following the rules of the bout, the champion had been decided.

Now standing before the loser as the sole winner of their bout, the shadowy figure gave a very condescending look to the one beneath him.

"I win... you lose. Just as I told you before this all began."

If the loser had teeth, they would grit them. Unfortunately, for beings of their race, such parts of the body didn't exist.

The kneeling one could only clench their fist I. powerlessness, realizing the loss and shame incurred on their person.

"I can... I can still..."

The loser could not complete the statement, though. Even they were aware... of their weakness, and how much more powerful the adversary was.

"That is enough." A voice echoed from the highly esteemed seat of the most revered among those who watched.

Seven seats were present there, indicating the highest members of the society of darkness where the beings all resided.

The highest seat, the one in the middle was unoccupied. The supreme ruler of the realm of darkness was absent during such an occasion. However, no one thought it to be strange.

No one could question the Demon King, after all.

There was one other empty seat. It was the seat to the far left, the throne both Shadow beings fought for.

As for the voice that interrupted the fight, it belonged to none other than the second in command of the forces within the Demon Realm.

"The results of the battle are obvious. The next 6th Seat has been decided!"

A hushed silence spread across the open arena. None of the spectators could move or even utter a single word. This was a sacred moment, one that could not be tainted by the slightest bit of sound other than the one who would make the declaration.

"Kahn. You are hereby stripped of your role as a Demon Lord. From now henceforth, the title 'Noir' of Shadows shall be passed to the one who has bested you. He is now the new ruler of the Shadow Demon race, 'Noir' of the Six Demon Lords!"

Kahn, the defeated, couldn't say a single word. He had lost, and in such a cruel world, it was only natural for the weaker one to lose everything to the strong.

But, to think the one he lost to was none other than his previous subordinate and right-hand man.

Kahn's fury, bitterness, and shame knew no bounds.

"Thus, the ceremony and rite of succession shall now begin!"

The Demon Lords who sat rose from their thrones, and the spectators all instantly removed themselves from their seats and bowed in homage to the existing Demon Lords, and the one who would now be crowned one.

The rite began, and time elapsed. Finally... it was done. At this point, Kahn was excused, cast out of the sight of everyone and the attention of the masses was on their new leader.

"All Hail Kyron, 'Noir' of Shadows!" The deafening cry of the leader of the Demon Lords echoed throughout the vast lands.

In response, everyone who heard, whether spectators around the arena or denizens who were in their abode, all bowed and paid homage.

"Hail! Hail! Hail!"

"A Hail our Demon Lord, Noir of Shadows!"

The voices of the Demons roared, and all were in the process of homage and reverence to the victor. All except Kahn, the loser.

The former Demon lord narrowed his eyes, tightened his fist, and swore to himself on that very occasion.

Even as he heard the deafening cries and hails of his successor, he could not accept it.

"I swear... I shall regain my position as Demon Lord... no matter the cost!"

At this point, there was no way to do that. However, no matter how long it took a d what he needed to do to earn it, Kahn was prepared.

To kill, to destroy, to plunder... to wage war! If he could bring back an achievement great enough to be recognized by everyone, including his lord and master, The Demon King, then he would regain his position.

In a land full of darkness and strife, there was hardly any hope for ambition. All he had left for him was shame and reproach.

To achieve his goals, Kahn's eyes went beyond the dark plains that surrounded him and saw what lay behind the horizons.

Light.

If he couldn't achieve his ambitions in a land of evil and chaos, devoid of hope, he would find his answer in the very place where hope resided.

A place where denizens of chaos were scorned, hated, but most especially... feared!

"I will win... no matter what it takes!"