Veil of Destiny

Chapter 2 Dark Call

The world remained unchanged—flowers were still flowers, trees were still trees, and the myriad colors of the world remained as vivid as ever.

The difference lay within Dorian.

Upon waking, Dorian felt as if he were a fish in a pond, viewing the world through the gentle ripple of water. The flowers, the trees, and the colors seemed to flatten into a painting, with something hidden behind it. Dorian tried to peer beyond, even feeling the urge to leap through, but like a fish in a crystal bowl, he found himself bouncing back each time. As summer turned to autumn, Dorian gradually returned to his former self, indulging in his old vices. No longer did he wake up each morning to check if his hands had turned into bones.

Dorian could clearly sense the presence of the Divine Essence. Those silver eyes, the chiseled features, the undulating waves beneath the white robe—fleeting fragments of a dream that occasionally flashed in his mind. A flame of desire burned within him.

The necromancer's inherent aversion to angels did little to dampen Dorian's lustful nature; if anything, it was overshadowed by it. The obsessive tendencies common among many nobles were particularly pronounced in Dorian. However, while most nobles expressed their superiority over commoners, Dorian's obsession was simpler: using the Divine Essence to recreate a Light Angel as his pet. Never had he craved power as intensely as now. The thought of having a Light Angel was tantalizing; the divine realm itself became a subject of his yearning. Owning a pet was a privilege of seventh-level mages, and with Dorian's mental power, the necromancer had left him with knowledge of fusion magic circles and the purity of the Divine Essence. Once his power reached that of a third-level mage, he might just be able to summon his own pet.

Lucian is a ninth-level wizard, and his magic laboratory is a rather quiet two-story building deep in the academy.Despite his relatively modest power, his skills as an alchemist afforded him such a place, as high-quality magical items were prized by all.

Dorian's unattractive appearance made him less than likable, but Lucian had chosen him as an apprentice partly because of his skill in flattery and partly because he had resisted the temptation of the many valuable gems in Lucian's lab. Dorian was no paragon of virtue; he simply understood the principle of sacrificing small gains for greater benefits. Moreover, Lucian, a commoner by birth, relished being served by a noble. Their camaraderie grew through shared debauchery, and despite everything, Lucian was pleased to see Dorian's newfound dedication to studying magic circles and honing his magical power.

"Master, what are these twisted symbols in the magic circle for?"

"Just like the spells you chant, these symbols are drawn to gather the corresponding magical energy from space. Different magical materials produce different effects. The function of a magic circle is determined by the amount, type, and sequence of the energy gathered."

"So, the combinations of magic circles are endless?"

"Indeed. There are hundreds of known magical materials, dozens of pure magical energies, including various divine powers. Adding the symbols that control the energy's magnitude, direction, and timing, the combinations are infinite. Existing magic circles are the result of countless failures by our predecessors."

"What happens if a magic circle is drawn incorrectly and activated?" Dorian realized the answer even before he finished asking, recalling the frequent explosions in Lucian's lab. Nonetheless, he was lucky to have Lucian, a true expert in magic circles, as his mentor.

Three-quarters of the students at the Etherea Magic Academy were nobles. Lower-ranking nobles like Dorian often faced disdain. Most noble students, less diligent than their commoner counterparts, relied on their magical equipment to match their peers in combat. Commoners, lacking resources, had to enhance their power through rigorous training. Dorian, initially neither wealthy enough for magical gear nor willing to train like a commoner, had been mediocre at best, occasionally bullying commoners outside the academy.

Time passed, and the weather grew colder. Those who knew Dorian were surprised by his transformation. The short, plump, unscrupulous boy was now either buried in ancient texts in the library or meditating in his room. As his magical power gradually increased, a snowy day marked the moment Dorian's power reached that of a third-level mage. Over these days, Dorian had made a surprising discovery: his thoroughly transformed body possessed explosive strength and the agility of a beast. "You're more beast than man," the necromancer concluded. In the early stages of soul fusion, Dorian could converse with the necromancer within his consciousness, but now their souls were completely intertwined, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other. This insight, however, could only come from someone with an intimate understanding of human and beast anatomy, like the necromancer.

Another surprise was his mental power. One afternoon, while struggling with "Principles of Wind Magic Circles," the vision of those silver eyes seared his nerves. "I'd kill for a drink," he thought, eyeing the wine glass on the window table. His desire for those eyes made him prepare to dive back into his studies, only to find the glass floating quietly before him. Startled, the glass fell, spilling cheap wine all over him. From that moment, Dorian discovered he could move objects with his mind. Months of fearless practice eventually allowed him to toss out a cat that sneaked into his room. Though this ability seemed cumbersome and useless compared to magic, the necromancer's understanding of the world's essence left Dorian with an instinctive sense of its value. Many years later, Dorian would realize his foresight was not his own but a natural instinct for scheming inherited from the necromancer.

Regardless, the great day finally arrived. Dorian, nearly ecstatic, gazed at the multicolored magic circle he had drawn. The pet summoning circle had been significantly modified to accommodate the Divine Essence. Most mages summoned minor demons, ravens, or black cats as pets, mainly for reconnaissance. The summoned pet shared a profound, intrinsic connection with the mage's soul, and the pet's death usually dealt a severe blow to the mage. Given this, Lucian once predicted Dorian's pet would be a wild boar or a mole. In battle, mage pets held little significance; even large creatures like black tigers were impractical. Summoned beasts, powerful and safe, were far more effective.

Dorian's chant concluded, and he began infusing the magic circle with his power. One by one, the symbols lit up, their colors intertwining. As the entire circle glowed, the cacophony of demonic roars and celestial hymns filled the air. Dorian, sweating profusely and veins bulging, strained to sustain the circle's insatiable demand for his power. A black mist formed at the center, dripping mercury-like liquid. The silvery liquid accumulated, and when it reached the size of a human head, the mist dissipated, leaving the liquid mass writhing and transforming in mid-air. Dorian chanted another spell, placing his hand over the substance. Slowly, a golden droplet oozed from his fingertip, falling into the liquid mass. It began to convulse violently, spewing black mist that filled the circle.

Exhausted, Dorian watched the circle intently, hoping his new pet would have those silver eyes.

As the mist cleared, Dorian gazed in silence at his new pet—a tattered skeleton.