{It all started when my ideal plan for a united empire failed and the lands became cursed. I don't know what happened but magic stopped working.}
Sharen pressed his hands together, conjuring a rain of ice shards that fell with deadly force at the Knight. The female Knight tried her best to dispel the spell but she couldn't and due to her blindness, she took the impact directly.
Sharen was about to launch another attack when something slammed into his side. He looked down, noticing the warm, red blood that trickled from his ribs, a large gash present there. He gasped as the pain jolted his mind. The Knight who had been fighting Narene gave him a smile that looked eerie then he ripped the sword—Narene's sword—from the deep wound and aimed again.
Sharen used a force shield spell to hold the sword back. He felt the strength behind the push of the Knight and if not for his increased magical output, he'd have been sliced open at that point. The Knight changed tactics for he conjured an earth spell, sending a rocky spike that pummelled Sharen backwards.
He rolled, feeling dizzy as large volumes of blood escaped from his wound. He pressed his hand on the wound but the voume of blood shocked him. How was he still alive? That sort of wound was supposed to kill him!
He tried to use a healing spell on himself but it didn't work. A healing spell couldn't work on such a deep and fatal wound—not if one was a yellow cored mage. Sharen gasped as he felt his consciousness fading.
He pushed on the floor, bringing himself up a bit. The Knight approached again but before he could slice down, the sword was snatched from his hand by an unseen force. The sword whipped, spinning towards the rightful owner—Narene.
She grabbed the sword then infused it with magic and the blade glowed bright green. She swiped it sideways, releasing an arc of green light but the Knight conjured a shield that formed as blue fog around him. The spell ended up having no effects on him.
Then Sharen felt it. His throat was being squeezed tightly by an unseen hand and he knew that the Knight was using his blue cored ability to strangle him. Sharen coughed holding his neck as he fought to stay conscious. An impossible task given that he had lost a lot of blood.
With a last effort, he reached out, tapping into his ability to see the future. He could see the future 5 seconds ahead of time at the expense of all his magical energy but he wasn't worried because he could refill it at will.
'System, refill my energy as it gets low.'
**Command taken**
When Sharen looked up, he saw series of shadows erupt from the Knights around him. Each shadow showed the probable move they would make and like this Sharen knew how to counter them. Of course he knew that the Knights could also use the ability to see the future to cancel out his efforts but unlike him, even a blue cored mage had to worry about running out of magical energy.
The next shadow jumped to the right in a bid to escape the spell that Narene would weave and so, Sharen aimed his attack at the right. He conjured all the energy he had and weaved one last spell. A flash of lightning shot from his palm, crashing into the shadow.
The Knight was taken by surprise and could not turn sharply enough. The streak of energy struck him, blasting him to splinters. Sharen's eyes became clouded both from exertion, the wound and the drain on his magical energy.
'System, refill magical energy.'
**No more magical points to refill energy**
Sharen smiled weakly. Was that the end? Was that how he'd die? Was it honourable enough?
Narene noticed him wobbling and quickly summoned a crackling mass of energy in her palm. She sent it at the blinded Knight, blasting her to the ground. The Knight struggled but Narene sent her head flying a far distance off, blood spattering.
The last thing Sharen heard was her shouting for him to not fall but all went black.
….
Sitting on the horse, he looked at the scene in front of him. He could never wrap his mind around the display of power for he was just an ordinary human—without the blessings of the gods.
He had often wondered what it took for the gods to notice a human at birth and bless him with magic. Then, again, the Hero hadn't been blessed from birth. Perhaps this was part of the reason he felt he could attain such level one day.
In front of him, Frysell could see Sharen and Narene being carried into the cart as it wheeled away. Behind him, smoke rose into the sky from Samak.
He looked back at his village feeling a pang of helplessness. The village was in chaos. His house had been burnt down during the rampage of the Knights. Perhaps this was one of the reasons he was out here, on a horse in the cold of night.
The greater reason, he knew, was that he still felt that Sharen would take him in as an apprentice one day. Despite his onetime rejection, Fryssel was unwilling to give up. Men who gave up never achieved anything.
Something worried him though. After the fight, he'd seen the Hero fall. He'd lost a lot of blood and even as he was loaded into the cart, he'd been unconscious. He sighed and gave one last look at the village before he kicked his horse.
The horse moved along the plain with enough speed to keep up with the group of travellers that had picked up the Hero but not fast enough to overtake them. He wanted to follow but discretely. Fryssel rode on his horse till he passed the headless corpse of the Shattered Knight that the Hero had slain.
That was a show of power. He had killed the most powerful mages in the lands in less than thirty minutes. It sent a message and Fryssel found himself wishing to be more and more like Sharen. If he were half the man the Hero was then he could make a difference. He could change the world.
The horse galloped along the night, following behind the caravan.