The Talisman's Fury
Juharin, with her fairy-like ethereal beauty and violet eyes, watched the mages ahead of her hurling spells at the ghouls.
"I'll hold them!"
The man in the short-sleeved shirt thrust both hands forward, and his arms rippled and stretched out. They elongated enough to encompass every ghoul, wrapping around them completely. The bound ghouls thrashed wildly, flailing their limbs in a desperate bid to break free.
"My turn next."
The man who shed his yellow hoodie stepped forward. His long green hair, hidden until now, stiffened rigidly before launching toward the ghouls.
Pssh! Pssh! Pssh!
The needle-sharp strands pierced the ghouls like venomous spit, slowing their movements. The man pulled his hoodie back on and retreated, making way for the middle-aged mage.
"Kill!!"
Thud—
As he formed a hand seal with both hands and bellowed, small explosions erupted from the ghouls' bodies.
Impeccable teamwork. But Juharin's gaze on the display was utterly unimpressed.
'Extension', 'Transformation', and... 'Word of Command'?
Crude magic, obvious at a glance. The Word of Command had potential, but with a user like that, it was nothing more than pearls around a swine's neck. Magic only shone when paired with talent, after all.
'That old and only 4th Grade? No better than bugs.'
[Grrrrrr...]
As if proving her thoughts, the ghouls struck by Kill began to stir once more.
"Damn...! Ghouls really... their resistance is too strong."
"Let's hit 'em again!"
"...Shit."
Juharin let out a loud scoff at the middle-aged mage gnashing his teeth in frustration. There was something eternally amusing about someone crumbling under the limits of their talent—especially for her, who had been deemed destined for 8th Grade mage status.
At that moment, the cold-faced man standing beside her stroked his chin and spoke.
"Have the ghouls been enhanced somehow?"
A man whose magic she couldn't even gauge with her eyes. The Heavenly Eye revealed just one thing: he was a mage on her level.
"That's just those bugs being weak. No effect in a domain like this boosts specific entities."
For the first time in her life, curiosity sparked in Juharin—who had never spared anyone a shred of kindness—and she offered a patient explanation.
Her eyes no longer lingered on the subpar mages ahead. Fixed solely on Siwoo, she eagerly anticipated what magic he would unleash.
What could it be—magic even her eyes couldn't discern? How extraordinary must his talent be, to reach such heights at an age similar to hers?
Her violet eyes, brimming with excitement, meticulously tracked Siwoo's every move. But when he pulled a talisman from his pocket, her expression shifted to bewilderment. Her brilliantly glowing purple eyes read the yellow paper's characters.
'Ghost Fire Talisman.'
A basic talisman, one of many fundamentals. It summoned a small will-o'-the-wisp, mainly for illumination. Yet witnessing the devastation it wrought on the ghouls made Juharin realize.
'Enemies not even worth using magic on.'
Ghouls weren't weak. Long ago, sorcerers had crafted these rotting undead as weapons against mage oppression. With their absurd mystery resistance, they were built solely to counter mages.
KABOOM—!
Such beings were obliterated by a single Ghost Fire Talisman. Amid the limbs torn apart by the explosion, the mages' gazes—filled with shock—turned to Siwoo.
Heh heh.
As it should be. A mage on her level deserved such worshipful stares.
Juharin basked in the awe pouring toward Siwoo, reveling in the dazzling scene as if it were her own triumph.
'Impossible.'
That was Kim Taeho's—the middle-aged mage's—reaction upon seeing the ghouls engulfed in blue flames.
Blue flames symbolized the will-o'-the-wisp. It had clearly been a basic Ghost Fire Talisman.
But what explained that power? It far surpassed any Ghost Fire Talisman he knew.
'Only a 5th Grade... no, higher could pull this off.'
Mages rarely relied on talismans or trinkets. Their innate magic was stronger, and higher-grade mages wielded it with greater versatility.
Yet this mage had chosen a basic talisman over magic to unleash such might. Why? An absurd hypothesis flashed through Kim Taeho's mind.
'No way...'
Gulp. Swallowing hard, Kim Taeho tore his eyes from the burning ghoul corpses and turned to the mage who had thrown it.
The young mage he'd glimpsed earlier during standby. Dressed plainly, looking green and awkward—now staring sharply at the flame-wrapped ghouls. Kim Taeho stood silently, watching him.
Their eyes met.
"!!!!!"
The instant their gazes locked, Kim Taeho froze. Those cold, chilling eyes. At odds with his unassuming appearance, they carried the aura of a high-grade mage.
'No way...'
Seeing the quiet, cold flame burning in those icy eyes, Kim Taeho murmured unwittingly. A seed of doubt took root. In that fleeting moment, he recalled a distant memory.
'The Curse Sovereign...'
Back when he was new to being a mage, he remembered the freak who reached 9th Grade without using magic. The being who ascended to the pinnacle of sorcery upon appearing—why did he think of him now, seeing this newbie?
'Similar.'
Their looks differed entirely. But those cold eyes evoked the memory of that cold-blooded gaze looking down on him.
Perhaps his child.
The seed sprouted, grew, and bloomed into conviction.
Kim Taeho was certain: this newbie and that existence were blood-related.
'What did I say earlier?'
He'd said he'd kill anyone who interfered.
'Ah... shoulda been nicer...'
Too late for regrets.
The stares stung.
Mages peering at me with dilated pupils, and Juharin still eyeing me with that burdensome intensity. I tilted my head, pondering. Was it that impressive?
I'd just tossed a talisman. Gusechan had dumped a ton on me, so it didn't seem rare. So why were these mages slinging far weaker magic instead of using talismans?
"You find them pathetic too, right? You wanted to show that your talisman outpowers their bug magic, didn't you?"
Juharin sneered down at the mages with haughty eyes and turned to me.
"Nah, not that."
"Hmph, liar. I get it 'cause I've got talent like you. You see them as bugs too, yeah?"
What was she on about? I shot a cold glance at Juharin, grinning smugly.
She was trying to bond over some weird empathy. Sorry, but I wasn't getting it at all.
"Uh... we'll head forward again now."
Then, the guide peeking from the corner spoke up.
Work's not done yet.
I ignored Juharin's nonstop babble and followed the guide. But things felt different from before.
I glanced back at the mages trailing me.
"...Why am I leading?"
Juharin, glued to my side, answered.
"Weaklings always wanna hide behind the strong."
...Is that how it works?
I recalled the mages' spell power and unconsciously agreed. Yeah, my talisman had been stronger than their magic.
Can't be helped, then.
I knew leading was the riskiest spot, but I wasn't dumb enough to shove the terrified middle-aged mage ahead by force.
Fear made people screw up in ways they never would otherwise. Better me—steady as I was—up front than that.
Well, I wasn't even the foremost. The guide was probably riskier, trembling like a leaf from behind.
And so, I trailed the guide, tuning out Juharin's chatter while she stuck to me like glue.
"Hey, hey. My legs hurt—piggyback me?"
"No."
"Whyyy?"
"Grown woman shouldn't just hop on a guy's back."
"Tch. You sound like the old fogeys at home."
I thought it was obvious.
I imagined my little sister piggybacked on some random guy. Clinging tight to his sturdy back, chin on his shoulder, chatting all cozy.
Grind.
Ah, just the thought. My teeth ground in irritation.
"What? Mad? You're mad, right? Totally mad!"
"Not that."
"Hee hee! Liar!"
Haaa. I sighed softly and kept walking.
"What? Ignoring me again?"
As I half-considered a curt reply to her pouty anger—
"We're here."
The guide halted. Ahead lay the forest's edge, where dense trees gave way to open fields.
Beyond stretched a massive castle at the field's center. A colossal structure woven from rotten, lifeless trees—eerie enough to chill the spine just looking at it.
"Whew...."
The guide shook off his tension with a deep breath and turned to us.
"One more rundown. Objective: eliminate the necromancer. Target confirmed inside the castle."
"Hmph, he's probably dug traps and prepped, huh?"
"Yes. Enemy forces we scouted: 100 ghouls. But since it's a necromancer, prepare for curses too."
"Ha! You don't know who I am?"
Juharin stroked her weathered broom tenderly.
"Curses don't work on a witch."
"...My apologies for the slip."
"Hmph! Let's wrap this quick."
We followed Juharin's lead toward the castle.
How the hell did this happen?
"...Where'd everyone go?"
In the middle of a vast corridor. Fresh from battle, I scanned around. All I saw were knight armors scattered on the floor, engulfed in blue flames.
No people in sight.
"...."
Realizing the situation, I fell silent.
Left alone in this death trap.