Chapter 47 - Sanctuary (1)

Necromancer. A type of mage who forcibly revived and subjugated souls that had already died and crumbled. Unlike corpse mages who handled physical forms like corpses, it was a mysterious miracle that unfolded using the abstract concept of souls.

It was a formula that couldn't even be attempted without understanding of souls and talent for handling them. Though not a unique magic, it was a heretical technique with a level of danger and difficulty comparable to one.

Like corpse mages who handled corpses and blood mages who handled blood, the source of life, necromancers also needed to abandon some of their humanity to achieve greatness.

From the 7th rank where they started to gain magic's uniqueness, they gradually began to abandon human ethics, and by the 8th rank of archmage, it was equivalent to a state where humanity was completely lost.

The mage before them was like that. An archmage like Jerbil and Ena. A monster who had long since lost human heart. A high-level mage who acted solely on their own judgment and reason.

"We need to escape," Warren muttered.

The group didn't turn to look at him, but agreed with his words in silence.

From the start, it was an opponent they couldn't win against. Archmages were each treated as a country's main military strength. For those who were still just Academy students to discuss their chances against such a mage? It was nonsense. Before courage, it was arrogance and recklessness.

At this moment, even talent didn't mean much.

Acel gritted his teeth and racked his brain to break through the current situation...