(Author here, I hope you guys are enjoying my book. If you are, can you leave me some power stones and add it to your library.)
"You are not a War Mage, nor are you a Mage Knight," the instructor declared, his voice steady but filled with conviction. "You do not bring destruction on a massive scale, nor do you stand as a bulwark to defend the innocent. You are something else entirely. You are a Battle Mage."
The instructor stood before the gathered students, his armor scuffed and worn from countless skirmishes. His dark eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity that seemed to challenge each of them in turn. Behind him, the training yard buzzed with activity—sparring pairs clashed with enchanted blades, while others practiced casting spells in rapid succession.
"In our own way, we are defenders," the instructor continued, pacing slowly before the assembled group. "But not like the Mage Knights, whose very purpose is to shield and protect. We are defenders of another sort: defenders of the fight itself."
He stopped and turned sharply, his gaze sweeping over the recruits. "We do not fight to protect people directly. We fight because the battle demands it. Because the thrill of combat is where we find purpose. We are masters of engaging multiple foes at once, using speed, strategy, and raw skill to turn the tide of any engagement. To us, the battlefield is not just a place of conflict—it is home."
A young recruit with a battered staff stepped forward hesitantly, raising a hand. "Instructor, if we don't fight to protect people, then what makes us different from mercenaries? Or… from those who fight only for themselves?"
The instructor's expression hardened, and he pointed a gauntleted finger at the recruit. "Discipline," he snapped. "Purpose. We are not aimless brawlers or hired swords. We fight for the balance of the battlefield. A Battle Mage understands that every clash, every duel, every strike, and spell, serves the greater flow of war. When a line is breaking, we hold it. When an enemy is overwhelming, we become the chaos they cannot control. We are the fulcrum upon which battles turn."
The recruit nodded, cowed but thoughtful. The instructor resumed his pacing, his tone softening slightly. "But yes," he admitted, "we do fight for the thrill of it. There is no shame in that. The rush of battle, the exhilaration of matching your skills against an opponent, the sheer joy of testing your limits… it is a part of who we are. But it is not all we are."
He stopped again, turning to address the group as a whole. "A Battle Mage thrives in the chaos of war, where others falter. Where a War Mage obliterates and a Mage Knight endures, we adapt. We fight. And we win. Never forget that. Victory is what defines us."
He gestured to the sparring rings, where two mages clashed in a blur of strikes and counterstrikes, spells crackling in the air between them. "Now," he said, his voice rising, "it's time for you to prove yourselves. Take up your weapons, focus your minds, and step into the ring. Show me that you are worthy of the title Battle Mage."