Seraph did not attempt to explain every detail to Marina. In truth, he had spent his past life fleeing from mageia duels with other magis, for he was vastly inferior to the senior acomages and magis.
However, he had been coerced into those duels by force. He had been exploited as a mere training puppet, unable to offer any resistance.
Though the senior acomages had not intended to slay him, they had shown no mercy either. The trauma Seraph had endured stood as grim evidence of their cruelty.
The Sanctus Sanctum stood as a grand mageia association. Though it served as a home and a bastion of knowledge for the magis, they held no formal lecture classes akin to a mundane school. Within these walls, there existed no clear duration for one's mageia ascension; should a member desire to persist in the lifestyle of Sanctus, they could remain for a lifetime, provided they remained untainted by transgression.
Denizens of the outside world perceived the Sanctus Sanctum as a noble mageia institution. Naturally, the interior harbored its share of malice and constant friction, yet almost every member who entered the Sanctus Sanctum came to view it as a sprawling home.
Being a magis under the banner of Sanctus offered manifold advantages. They could accept mission scrolls from external clients who sought the Sanctum's aid—missions that served as a primary source of wealth for the magis.
Departing the Sanctus Sanctum was not uncommon, yet unless that individual was an exceptionally prominent or distinguished magis, they would find securing a rank of mission far more arduous than when they resided within this citadel.
Consequently, a multitude of magis remained within Sanctus even into their twilight years. They might fall below the threshold when compared to their peers; however, to the magis of the outer world and a sixteen-year-old acomage like Seraph, they remained vastly more powerful.
This was the reason Seraph found himself a constant target of torment. Every other magis within Sanctus possessed a higher echelon of power than his own. Originally, the young man had intended to study mageia within Sanctus until old age, harboring the hope that one day he would ascend to a strength sufficient to end the bullying and change the way others perceived him.
From this day forth, the young man resolved to alter the trajectory of his existence. He sensed he would soon be able to stride out of this place by his own force!
Following the complete arrangement and restoration of his memories, Seraph's knowledge chart had widened immensely. Several bodies of knowledge overlapped, while others presented voids to be discovered and explored.
This was especially true regarding natural forces and the mageia macrocosmic. Certainly, several sages upon Laurasia already utilized astronomy and mageia theory to calculate that the world was round, not the center of the multiverse. Yet almost all burghers remained indoctrinated with the belief that the world was flat and held the universe center.
Scarcely anyone dared pilot an airship to genuinely explore every corner of Laurasia, and venturing out to sea was virtually forbidden. Most folk believed that sailing ever onward would lead them to simply tumble from the world's edge once they reached the horizon line.
Thus, the outer continents languished in obscurity, as if shrouded by mist—so much so that they were dubbed the Dark Continents. Some did not even believe any continents existed beyond Laurasia.
Naturally, Seraph was thrilled by this mageia macrocosmic!
He yearned to venture out and investigate what lay outside Sanctus.
He craved the knowledge of how to dismantle the Demon Legion.
He burned to know if other continents truly existed in this world.
He desired to discover what wonders within the mageia macrocosmic he had yet to encounter.
His soul of adventure sent blood coursing through his veins.
Nonetheless, the first task the young man had at this moment was merely to ascend in power as swiftly as possible! This was so he might find the answers regarding the origin and cause of the demonic beasts invading Laurasia, and subsequently obliterate the Demon Legion entirely!
✧ . ✶ . ✡ . ✶ . ✧
Seraph emerged from the Infirmary Hall during the early hours, a time when golden light draped across the landscape, dissolving the shadows of the night.
The Sanctus Sanctum was a massive cluster of seven white citadels. It was an ancient basilica lined with high, piercing spires. The seven Sentry Towers were arranged in a giant seven-pointed mageia circle, forming a perfect geometry.
Inside the basilica, seven buildings were connected by arched corridors, nearly every structure fashioned from ancient white stone. Furthermore, it was constructed through energia engineering; the beauty of this arcane fortress was peerless, unmatched by any other place.
The Sanctus Citadel did not rest upon the earth but floated slightly above the ground. Moreover, the basilica was encircled by mageia circles that rotated like the movement of a celestial clock, creating a wondrous sight rarely encountered. This miraculous phenomenon was a legacy of Ancient Arcanus from thousands of years ago, a craft that had now vanished entirely.
The Sanctus Sanctum served as the official primary mageia association of the Arkflame Kingdom. The entire fortress was situated upon a hill; this was a realm with a pleasantly cool climate year-round. Yet, strangely, this hill and its ancient citadel remained frigid and enshrined in thick clouds, as if to sever the world within from the world without.
This basilica was thus akin to an ancient mageia realm floating upon the clouds. Additionally, lightning frequently struck the perimeter of the Sanctus territory, earning the ancient temple the name 'Stormcloud Citadel.'
Seraph walked along the corridors within the Sanctus fortress. The young man was heading toward the Mageia Training Hall. Although it was already late in the morning, hardly anyone was out walking.
Since magis typically hailed from noble families, many were unable to change their old habits even after becoming magis. Most magis did not care for early mornings; one would rarely encounter them until noon, when they awoke to partake in their first meal of the day.
Seraph was well-acquainted with the atmosphere within Sanctus. Ordinarily, the place remained tranquil, the air within the citadel saturated with the essence of natural forces and mageia power. In the past, since the young man lacked the mageia power necessary for rigorous training, he would wake at dawn to enter the Labyrinthine Basilica of Tomes, consuming mageia scrolls to compensate for his deficit in mageia capability.
If one were to measure the results of a mageia power examination, Seraph's scores were once appallingly low; yet, if the threshold of judgment were mageia theory, he stood peerless.
The young man once harbored the hope that if he could not become a warlock, he would one day become a rune architect.
The Rune architect is the wielder of the blueprints of creation. They are the crafters of mageia golems, the ones who refine and fuse energia engineering to breathe life into war golems. The Rune architect transforms harmless mageia arts into mageia golems, giving birth to ferocious engines of war.