The skies over Arcanis, once painted with serene blues and drifting clouds of soft mana essence, were now darkening, not by storm, but by the gathering of war.
The Dawning of Magic Academy, revered for centuries as the crown jewel of the Human Territory's magical prowess, had been turned into a fortress. Its gleaming spires pulsed with mana barriers, its grand halls converted to command centers, and its sprawling courtyards lined with formation circles and glyph-bound sentries.
The five Wizard Lords—ancient, powerful mages who had guided the Arcanis region for decades—stood at the highest balcony of the central tower. They wore the colors of the old covenants—silver, obsidian, and sapphire—and wielded staves carved from the roots of World Trees and ores touched by stardust.
Lord Myrran the Enkindled, master of flame, stood with eyes burning beneath his hood.
Lady Seressa of the Third Veil, guardian of arcane time, her robes shimmering like liquid crystal.
