The demon swarms launched such violent onslaughts that many kingdoms and cities collapsed. The war between humanity and the demon swarms had persisted for over a century. The territorial boundaries became obscured. Many regions that once served as human habitations were occupied by the demons. The human race was forced to struggle for survival against the most eldritch evils.
Laurasia thus became an unavoidable battlefield of the demon war. It was the clash between the demon armies and the human race.
Yet, the Demon Legion was far more potent. The human armies could not contend with them on equal ground. Most cities had already been breached and laid to ruin. Only a few kingdoms still possessed the strength to resist and endure.
Currently, the demon swarms have spread to every corner of Laurasia, uncontrolled by any force.
Because Seraph was now upon Laurasia, the myriad memories merged until they were difficult to discern, appearing as nothing more than fading dreams. His primary memory was that of a magis, mirroring the battered body that had awakened within the pristine white Infirmary Hall.
The young man was now uncertain whether these memories had manifested due to cerebral trauma, whether they were merely the delusions of a frantic mind, or if they were indeed the memories of the same human soul from a differing multiverse returning to forge into one.
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'An ancient myth tells of a sage, lost within a dream's delight...
A butterfly he became, joyous in wings of gilded light.
Yet the boundary blurs, where the illusionary dream began—
Was he a man dreaming he is a butterfly? Or a butterfly dreaming he is a man?'
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It was this very same sensation Seraph felt now. Myriad memories were jumbled together, making it impossible to discern which world was true and which was false any longer. The only thing he knew for certain was that he was now upon Laurasia.
[Cough!]
The young man covered his mouth with his hand. Instantly, he tasted the metallic tang of blood upon his palm. In his hand lay a large, dark, gloomy-greenish blood clot. The clot that emerged was like residual poison purged from his system. As the dark clot exited, it brought relief and ease. He therefore tried to cough up the tainted blood several more times.
The coughing jostled the wounds on his body. It caused him pain, as if his ribs were fractured. Seraph looked down, examining himself. After a thorough inspection, even though the wounds had been meticulously treated, he could still feel some lingering bruises.
Fortunately, all injuries had been given first aid. A slight burning sensation remained. Although the dressing method seemed rather like ancient medicine, the scent of herbs wafting from the bandages made him feel slightly better. The sensation indicated that he was beyond the threshold of danger.
Even after coughing up the tainted blood brought significant improvement, Seraph still did not know how he had come to be in such a deserted and desolate Infirmary Hall.
The young man closed his eyes and slowly reorganized his memories once more. Suddenly, the memories of the mageia macrocosmic slowly arranged themselves in an orderly and deliberate fashion...
The legacy of an orphan was a weight Seraph had endured in every breath. With his family slaughtered to the last, he had been raised by the Capital's silence. He lived in Arkflame—one of the final embers of mankind still flickering amidst the demon-ravaged wastes of Laurasia.
Eleven years prior, on the day his mother and father were slain by demons, Seraph's mageia power had erupted. Because of that, he was able to enter the Sanctus Sanctum, which was the supreme echelon mageia academy of Arkflame.
After Seraph had studied the arts of mageia from the Sanctus Sanctum, he was granted the opportunity to open the gates to the path of a magis. The core heart of a magis was, in essence, mageia power.
Mageia Power was the natural force present within every human body. In the Macrocosmic of Mageia, all things were birthed alongside this force, differing only in magnitude. Yet, only a few humans could truly control and manifest spell incantations. This made the status of a magis noble and highly revered by the folk.
Those who desired to become a magis must possess an affinity for mageia. They must have the capability to command the mageia force and mana to move according to their volition. The power to commune with and control the natural force was the most fundamental requirement for any aspiring magis. If one lacked this basic command over the mageia, becoming a magis was an impossibility.
However, the ability to commune and control the natural force, or the sense of mageia perception, was the very thing that distinguished a common magis from one of high affinity.
Even though Seraph had the opportunity to study at the Sanctus Sanctum—a place the denizens of all Laurasia dreamed of—he had remained only an acomage, a weak novice magis. This caused him to live a life of hardship, forced to struggle incessantly.
Sanctus frequently held mageia duels between magis. These duels had become a tradition among the folk of Laurasia to display courage. Furthermore, duels were used to simulate combat and strengthen bonds; even many examinations used mageia dueling as their primary test.
The weak Seraph could hardly resist the challenges of other acomages and magis. The more they saw his frailty, the more they bullied him with increasing severity. That was the reason the young man was often treated as a lowborn and tormented by others.
Most acomages hailed from wealthy families and the noble class. Seraph, a lowly orphan, was thus frequently assaulted and tormented by them within the Sanctus Sanctum, unable to offer any retaliation.
Because he was not yet a full-fledged magis, the young man's status remained that of a groundling. Only upon reaching the next echelon would his status be elevated to a complete magis. This forced the young man to endure incessant bullying, not to mention the false accusations of theft whenever valuable items vanished within the Sanctus Sanctum.
The cause of the severe injuries that left Seraph convalescing in this Infirmary Hall was a challenge issued by a group of acomages.
Under normal circumstances, mageia duels were inherently perilous with a high risk of injury. No matter how weak a spell might be, it remained a weapon of destructive force; thus, duelists were expected to restrain their strikes to prevent lasting harm.
However, his opponent had struck with full, ruthless power. Though Seraph was fortunate to have survived, he had been left in a state of critical trauma.
Seraph kept his eyes closed, submerged in these old memories for a long duration. As he recalled the past, his understanding of his current situation and this realm deepened.
Laurasia was rife with peril: opponents within the Sanctus Sanctum, enemies beyond the kingdom's borders, the myriad beasts pervasive across the land, and the demon swarms teeming throughout this world of mageia. He had to struggle by any means necessary to survive.
Yet, for now, the only action he could take was to recover within this hall until his strength returned.
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