Corvin sat cross legged in the damp, still underground chamber, the faint hum of his surroundings barely touching his heightened senses. His eyes were closed, his body completely still. He took a slow, controlled breath, then summoned the System's status panel once more.
It appeared before him, glowing softly, the text reflecting his current progress.
[Status]
Name: Corvin Blackmoor
Race: Dark Parasyte - Ascendant Stage
Level: 110
He studied the stats, his focus sharp. His eyes lingered for a moment longer than usual on the new entry, Mana Control and it's level, which had shifted dramatically. No longer was magic something he struggled to bend to his will. Now, it obeyed him with ease.
Mana Control: S
Mana flows with him effortlessly. Spells form naturally with barely a thought. The magic responds with instant clarity, bending and twisting at his command without resistance. His mana feels as though it flows through him like a natural extension of his being, not something to be controlled or contained.
Physical Stats: S-
His height had increased by nearly 10 cm since the transformation. The Elven frame he now wore was more elegant and powerful. His movements were more graceful, yet his muscle density felt even stronger, built for both speed and power.
Corvin's gaze shifted toward his Space Magic Affinity, the most fascinating change.
Space Magic: C-
Corvin could now feel the fabric of space around him. He could sense the lines of space, as if the very dimensions of reality had become tangible to his mind. He felt it like an invisible web surrounding him, ready to bend and shift at his whim. Teleportation, though still foreign, seemed possible, if he dared to try it. But something held him back. First he was not sure how t and did not want to leave some parts of him back while trying to figure it out. Also he wasn't sure if the act of moving through space would be detected. If it could be traced by some outside force. His caution outweighed his curiosity for now.
As Corvin's fingers brushed against the new elemental abilities within him, he felt an internal surge. The elements had bowed to his will, responding with ease as if they were natural to him.
Elemental Control
Fire: A flame at his fingertips could now be controlled as an extension of his soul, hot enough to scorch even the thickest of metals with the gentlest breath of air. He was able to change the density, heat and color of his fire. His basic chemistry knowledge helping him realize this more efficiently.
Water: He could bend it, shape it into structures or forms, move it with a simple command. Yet he was not able to freeze it and use Ice, as it was clear that Ice like magma or metal was secondary element and Corvin needs to find a good academy to have a feast.
Earth: Every stone, every grain of dirt, was his to command, able to solidify or disintegrate with his thoughts.
Wind: The air itself danced around him. It was an extension of his body, propelling him through the air with ease or compressing to create invisible wind blades.
He closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating his next move.
His mind, already in a strategic frame, settled on his next target.
The Dark Magus, even the thought of this individual filled Corvin with a curious thrill. A Dark Magus capable of raising the dead as personal underlings. A very curious magic he wants in his arsenal. He knows he'll need allies. The allies whom can betray or backstab him. But undead is eternal, loyal and incorruptible. Only the undead as his followers can be trusted. The perfect weapon and Corvin knew that the Dark Magus was somewhere on the Thalasien.
His connection to Dark Magic surged with anticipation. He had always been drawn to the secrets of life and death, the mysteries of necromancy. There was something almost… romantic about the idea of controlling the undead, bending them to his will, and mastering death itself. It was the perfect evolution for someone like him.
He nodded slowly, the decision final.
Corvin was no longer a lone predator lurking in the shadows. He was rising, and he knew that this Dark Magus would be his next step in solidifying his ultimate control over the world.
As he stood, the weight of his decisions settled in his mind. He had a purpose now, a goal that stretched beyond the battlefield of Redmarsh. He moved toward the surface, sealing his underground sanctuary with a thought. His cloak billowed behind him as he emerged from the earth, ready to continue his journey.
--
The Redmarsh battlefield was a chaos of blood and mist. Amongst the carnage, five figures moved with silent grace, blending into the fog like shadows. They were Dark Elven spies, and their task was clear: locate Corvin Blackmoor and deliver the Synod's message.
The spies didn't need armor or weapons nor the need to make their presence felt. Their blades were thought and silence. Moving as one, they relied on the Dark and Psychic magic passed down through generations of their kind. Their expertise in mind walking, memory extraction, and psychic veiling allowed them to slip past all wards, patrols, and sentries without leaving a trace.
These weren't just any spies. These were Synod trained specialists, and they had perfected their craft. Their ability to remain unseen, unheard, and undetected was unparalleled. They had toppled noble houses, erased political figures, and stolen secrets with deadly efficiency.
In Redmarsh, they wasted no time.
They read the minds of every guard they passed, siphoning memories as easily as breathing. With every touch of their will, they harvested flickers of thought, contract terms, and small glimpses of Corvin's movements. He was assigned to the front lines. The people of Redmarsh never realized their thoughts were being unraveled, but to the spies, it was second nature.
The spies linked him to the rumors of a silent killer, but they did not see him in the mist. He had become a whisper on the battlefield. And yet, despite the whispers, they sensed something more.
One spy ttapped the shoulder of their leader and pointed. "This is him," he whispered, eyes narrowing.
"Rogue Dark Elf?" another whispered.
He was not looking like a rogue. His height the tallest they've seen so far. Standing at 2.20 meter, with muscled frame as if sculpted. His skin like in the legends of elven myths. With all the rumors and information they learned about him they liked it and they were happy another slaughterer will be joining their ranks. They liked it because his stealth, his assassination skills, were too familiar. Dark Elf tactics. The use of shadow magic to vanish without a trace. A rogue, a nomad of death.
They tracked him to the edge of Loyalists HQ. Before entering the former glorius castle he stopped and moved towards the forest.
--
Corvin felt it. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his senses, heightened by his recent evolution, sharpened as he recognized the tell tale signs of being watched.
He had siphoned enough minds to know when he was being followed. The faintest vibration in the air, the smallest shift in the shadows. Someone, or something, was tailing him.
His eyes scanned the trees, the mist, his mind racing. Without hesitation, he moved towards the forest and ducked behind a large oak tree.
His body shifted. He felt the magic flow through him, his form altering as his mana control deepened. In an instant, he was no longer a man but an air elemental, a trait he gor from philanthropist Aetherborns. Weightless, and invisible to sight, smell and sense he started floating just above the ground.
He rose, high into the branches, hovering like a whisper, moving silently through the trees. His eyes focused searching, locking onto the tiny movements over the grass. To see who were attempting to stay hidden below.
Corvin stretched out his senses, and the lines of space around him vibrated with his power. He noticed 5 shapes withing the particles of space and dimensions. His spores spread out, creeping toward the five figures, invisible to all but the most perceptive.
He siphoned the first target. The memories rushed into his mind, bringing with it recent images of five Dark Elves, searching his records in Veilthrone and Eldrithas. Through Gilded Dominion and Redmars. They were sent to recruit him. They had been tasked by the Synod. No doubt hoping he would become another weapon in their arsenal.
He siphoned the others one by one, pulling their memories, gathering everything:
The inquiry of the Arcanum, envoy's arrival, Synod's interest in him after the initial reports about his activities in Argyll and lastly spies' tactics, affinities, skills and methods.
By the time he had siphoned all five to the limit, Corvin understood them. He knew them. Their names, their affiliations, their motives nearly everything about these fine and productive members of sociality.
He lowered to the ground and stood behind them now, no longer a ghost in the mist. He was tangible, powerful, and very much aware of the shadows.
He dropped back to the ground, becoming visible once more. Lightning crackled in his right hand, and a blue firebolt danced on his left. He invited them to reveal themselves.
The spies moved with their usual silent grace, stepping out of the mist. The wind rustled gently through the trees, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. They were cautious, precise, and despite Corvin's exceptional awareness, they moved with the same eerie silence they had become known for. The lead spy was the first to appear, after him other four as well revealed themselves one by one. Their leader stepped forward, hands raised in the universal gesture of peace, but Corvin's eyes remained sharp, calculating, already aware of their intentions.
"Raven," the spy began, his voice low, measured, and respectful. "We have been sent to recruit you on behalf of the Synod."
Corvin's gaze didn't falter. Without showing any reaction on his voice or face he replied "and the reason for that?".
The spy paused, then nodded as if he had been expecting the question. "We've gathered all we could from the Veilthorn to Gilded Dominion amd lastly to Redmarsh. Your actions have not gone unnoticed. Your skills, they align with our own. The Synod has… interest in your abilities."
Corvin's expression remained unchanged. The Synod. They weren't just a shadow in the world. They were manipulating from the dark. He'd known something like this was inevitable, and now he was being offered a place in their web. But that wasn't what piqued his interest.
"It seems someone is looking for me and Synod would like to fish in murky waters?" Corvin asked, his voice cold. He was well aware that the Synod's dealings would likely catch the attention of the Circle of Arbiters and through them to every faction.
The spy's smile was thin, almost amused, as if he expected this question. "Ah, yes, the Arcanum. If you agree to work with us, we will inform them that you are a Dark Elf, trained in Space Magic under the Synod. They'll be satisfied with that. No questions. You will remain untouched. They'll think of you as part of the Synod, independent, outside of their control." He paused, watching Corvin carefully. "But in reality, we will have you marked as one of ours."
Corvin's mind raced for a moment. He had heard of Dark Elves operating on the edges of the world, living in seclusion and isolation, gathering power from the shadows. But this offer… this was a different kind of game altogether.
"And what do you want in return?" Corvin's voice dropped into a sharp, dangerous tone.
The lead spy's gaze hardened, but his voice remained calm. "You will accept assignments from the Synod. You will complete them with priority over other contracts. And in return, you will be allowed to continue your work, unbothered, under our banner."
Corvin stood still, his thoughts shifting quickly. The Synod was offering him leverage, power, and the freedom to act without fear of discovery. All they wanted in return was his loyalty when it suited them. His pride was never an issue. But something still lingered in the back of his mind.
"And how long will the Synod threaten me with the rest of the world?" Corvin's tone had shifted to something darker, more calculating.
The spy took a step forward, his posture straightening. "This I do not know, You'll have to ask the Synod. You've already demonstrated that you are no weakling. You are a weapon in the making, Raven. And we wish to see you fulfill your potential."
Corvin's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. The offer was tempting. He would be untouchable, his true nature concealed, and his growth unimpeded. But there was something more he needed to understand. Something about this entire arrangement didn't sit right with him.
He tested them. His mind reached out, and he started a delicate probe. Telepathy was one of his weapon, and his abilities on Psychic and Dark magic already increased in profecieny and Mind Walker skill has been transferred with stealth.
The spy's smile never wavered, but the faintest pulse of psychic energy brushed against Corvin's mind. The spy's mental probe was light, almost too careful, and Corvin caught it immediately. He wouldn't allow them to touch his mind. No one was allowed there. His fingers crackled with energy, the bolt of lightning increasing in potency in his hand.
Corvin's voice was filled with warning. "If any of you tries to touch my mind again, it will be the last thing you do."
The spy nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. "You are no weakling, Raven. We respect that."
The lead spy stepped forward, his hands rising in a peaceful gesture. "What is your decision? Will you accept our terms?"
Corvin stood in silence for a moment, his thoughts swirling. The Synod wanted him. And Corvin wanted what they had: power, freedom, and the ability to do what he pleased, without fear of interference.
He looked at the spy, his eyes piercing, calculating. "I will" he said and added, "on my terms. You can tell the Synod I'll work with them. But do not make the mistake of considering me and underling."
The spy's expression softened into a slight smile, though it was still tinged with caution. "We understand. You're no servant."
The spy turned to the others and nodded. "We'll take you to our HQ. The Synod would like to meet you in person."
Corvin nodded in return, his expression unreadable. "I'll finish my current assignment first. But after that, I'll come. Wait here for me."
The spy bowed, and the rest of the agents slowly faded into the shadows, this time they were not invisible o his eyes. With his latest siphons he was proficient with clacking and stealth and he was able to see the figures of the five spy clearly.
After their departure, Corvin turned back toward the Loyalists HQ, still contemplating his decision. The Synod's offer held potential, but there were still many unknowns. For now, his plans would continue, just as before. But the Synod was now an ally, albeit a dangerous one.
As he walked toward the camp, he felt the weight of his choices, knowing that the shadows of the world were watching him. And he would take full advantage of that.