It was the day the Demon King stepped onto the battlefield.
High above the clouds, nestled deep within the mountains of northern Halbien, stood the towering monument of arcane mastery known as the Great Tower of Enersia. Its white spires gleamed against the sunlight, reaching toward the sky like fingers grasping for the divine. The tower pulsed faintly with ambient mana, a living beacon of magical authority and ancient history. Within those walls, amidst glowing glyphs and hovering grimoires, stood Klav Jofin.
He was seated in a circular chamber lined with silver runes and enchanted crystals. The walls shimmered with flowing script from a forgotten language, softly illuminating the vast chamber with hues of blue and gold. At the center, floating just above a raised marble dais, Klav focused on his skill—his legacy—his burden.
His eyes glowed faintly as he refined Chrono Severance. Now an SSS-tier ability, it hummed with terrifying potential, the surrounding air bending subtly with the pressure of time magic. Yet Klav was unsettled. Though the skill had been forged through decades of dedication and refinement, something within him whispered of limits he had yet to break—of a ceiling just beyond his reach.
Even as the greatest mage of his generation, doubt lingered.
Outside the tower, the capital city of Haldis buzzed with tension. Soldiers marched in formation across cobbled roads. Mana cannons were rolled into defensive positions. Skyships hovered low, their hulls emblazoned with the silver insignia of Halbien. The world could feel the weight of what was coming. War was no longer a possibility—it had arrived.
Far from the tower, deep within Halbien's forests, another figure trained in silence and exile.
Daniel lived in the shadows of the same land but walked a path entirely different. After the tragic raid on his village—a night that claimed the lives of his mother and sister—Daniel became a ghost to the world that once called him brother. Daren, son of a powerful nobleman and the same boy who once tormented him, had framed Daniel for orchestrating the raid. With forged evidence and influential connections, Daren twisted the truth, casting Daniel as the villain. The people, desperate and fearful, believed it.
Banished and shunned, Daniel wandered from village to village, never staying long. Doors closed in his face. Jobs refused him. The influence of Daren's father reached far and wide, nearly rivaling the king himself. Stripped of home, name, and identity, Daniel sharpened his blade in solitude, drawing strength not from wealth or status, but from sheer resolve.
Where Klav stood in radiant halls of marble and mana, Daniel trained beneath the whispering trees, with bloodied hands and a soul scarred by loss. He had no master, no allies. Only memory, and a burning hatred that refused to die.
As Klav climbed the arcane ladder, his journey took him across the continent to Solbain, home to the prestigious Elarion Spire Academy. Nestled atop cliffs overlooking the shimmering Azure Expanse, the academy was a sprawling wonder of spired towers, blooming arcane gardens, and libraries that stretched into the clouds. Mages and swordsmen from every corner of the continent sought entry. Of the thousands accepted, only a few rose above the rest.
Klav became one of them.
He arrived a prodigy, and over time, grew into a legend. While refining Chrono Severance, he awakened a second skill—Veil Perception. A passive B-tier ability at its base form, it granted heightened spatial awareness and danger detection. At first, the radius was only ten meters, but as he trained, the skill evolved. It didn't just expand its reach—it deepened in function. His perception became layered, allowing him to sense movements, distortions, traps, even faint traces of ill intent. With time, it became a vital part of his survival.
By the time Klav graduated, he had claimed the top seat in the Department of Magic. His name was etched into academy records and whispered with awe in the halls of rising mage guilds. Soon after, he was recruited by one of the continent's most powerful guilds, the Silver Arbiters. Years passed. His power grew. His name spread beyond Solbain and Halbien, crossing borders and sparking stories.
Now, on the eve of the Demon King's arrival, Klav was no longer a boy in an orphanage, bullied and frightened.
He was the Grand Mage of Time.
And yet, as he stood in the heart of the Great Tower, a silent question haunted him.
Was it enough?
Was even all of this—his titles, his skills, his rank—enough to stand against the nightmare that once shattered the world?
The shadows of war loomed just beyond the horizon, thick and suffocating. Somewhere beneath a canopy of ancient trees, Daniel honed his blade in silence, his breath calm, his movements sharp. He waited, not with hesitation, but with purpose.
Far above the world, in the ivory heights of the Great Tower of Enersia, Klav stood near a crystalline window, his thoughts consumed by uncertainty. Then it happened.
A low rumble reached his ears, subtle at first, then violent. The sky to the north lit up in a flash of crimson light, followed by a deafening explosion that shook the mountain range. The magical window distorted from the shockwave, and Klav's eyes widened. Through the shimmering glass, he saw the figure emerging from the smoke and fire.
The Demon King.
Without thinking, Klav sprinted through the corridors of the tower, arcane wards flaring to life in response to the threat. He moved past startled students and fellow mages frozen in disbelief. In his panic, he forgot entirely that he had teleportation magic. His footsteps echoed off marble walls as he burst through the tower's great doors and charged into the open, wind howling around him.
Then another explosion roared behind him.
The ground quaked, and the sky turned black with smoke. Klav turned just in time to see the tower—the heart of magical knowledge in Halbien—collapse in on itself, consumed by flame and debris. Stone shattered. Pillars crumbled. The screams of his colleagues echoed in his ears before fading into silence. His heart clenched, but there was no time to mourn.
He vanished, reappearing in an instant through teleportation magic. Now, standing alone on the scorched battlefield, he faced the nightmare directly.
The Demon King stood tall, his presence warping the very air around him. The earth beneath his feet cracked with every step. Cloaked in living shadows, his armor bled with a dark iridescence, and two crimson eyes burned beneath his jagged helm.
Klav's Veil Perception flared to life, slamming him with an overwhelming surge of killing intent. It was suffocating, as if the very concept of death stood before him. He gritted his teeth, steadied his breathing, and raised his hands.
Blue-white energy gathered at his palms, coalescing into a blinding sphere that pulsed with raw time magic. His voice rang out, sharp and unwavering.
"Chrono Severance."
The magic surged forward, striking the Demon King dead center. A wave of silence rippled out as time itself buckled. The world around them froze. The wind halted. Particles of ash hung motionless in the air. The Demon King stood still, suspended in a moment outside time.
Klav stood tall, his mana surging through his body, the ground beneath him cracked from the force. His eyes burned with conviction.
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[Skills]
Chrono Severance (S+ Awakened | Power: SSS-tier):
Allows the user to freeze a target in time. All attacks on the target during the freeze will be applied simultaneously after the time freeze.
MP: 1,000
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I can hold him like this for as long as I want. I have enough mana to keep this going for hours, he thought, confident.
But then, something happened.
The Demon King moved.
Not slowly. Not in resistance. He shattered the time freeze with ease, like glass breaking beneath his fingertips. A thunderous crack split the air, and the Chrono Severance spell collapsed in a cascade of magical fragments, vanishing into the ether.
Klav's eyes widened in horror.
He conjured another Chrono Severance spell, launching it at near supersonic speed. The spell howled through the air, glowing like a fallen star. But before it could strike, the Demon King shifted, effortlessly dodging the projectile. He appeared in front of Klav with a whisper of movement.
Their eyes met.
Klav's breath caught in his throat. There was no hatred in those crimson eyes, only cold purpose.
The Demon King reached out and seized Klav by the neck. His grip was like iron, unyielding and absolute.
"Join me, Klav," he said in a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. "You wield power few could ever dream of. I have what you need to transcend even that."
Klav's lips curled into a defiant smile, his eyes unwavering.
"Fuck, no. I'd rather die."
A brief silence passed between them.
"So be it."
With a flick of his wrist, the Demon King snapped Klav's neck. The sound echoed through the battlefield, a final punctuation.
Klav's body crumpled to the ground. As he fell, tears welled in his eyes. Not of fear, but of failure. Of loss. Of everything he could not protect.
The light in his eyes faded. The Grand Mage of Time… was no more.