Despite his declaration, Baldur couldn't help but pale each time his eyes darted to the deep crevice the strike dug along the cave's wall. This strength was too unnatural. Yet, the seven-year-old boy's physique dwarfed that of soul transformation realm cultivators.
But that was nothing compared to the unlimited mana he exuded. Just feeling it prickled his skin and birthed ominous feelings one after another. What if he could use it or if he mastered a few spells? Just what monster was in front of him?
The thought alone sent chills down his spine but also made his heart drum in his ears. Becoming an arcanist with this unlimited supply was a given. Hell, he could even reach the archmage level, become a region's overlord, and lead the dark mages to reclaim their lost place on the western magic island!
As an icy wind howled around his misty body, his magic circuits blazed under the strain of the horrible spells he conjured.
