[Mercifura Academy, Dark Tower Training hall]
Mercifura Academy was huge. Besides the seven magus towers, each representing a major school of magic and possessing its fair share of magi teaching and giving lectures, there were also facilities that wandering acolytes could only dream of.
If you needed to create a golem, you could go to the twin towers and pay a fee to access the golem manufacturing room, which possessed magus-grade equipment and allowed you to engrave minuscule runes on magical beast cores, the minimal requirements to be able to build a golem or a titan.
If you needed to craft a magical artefact, then you could go to the forging tower, a place that was overseen by the dwarven magus Alcaturus, who was said to have overseen the whole infrastructure for the past two centuries. He was one of the big shots magi in the academy.
Being a direct disciple of Magus Nocturne, Ourin had access to the facilities of the Dark Tower. Although the Dark Tower was not very much friendly with its apprentices, it also happened to possess one of the best potioneering laboratories and training rooms. The abundance of magical experiments and prisoners made it dangerous to wander in unknown levels with anything below acolyte level, but if you knew your way around, you could find the [Training Hall].
For the measly fee of 1 magic crystal per hour, you could have access to gravitational arrays, a supply of magical experiments capable of pushing you to the limits and exposure to evil spirits, all at once. As for the risks of dying, though they were never null in the academy, the spirit of the tower, a mechanical lifeform taking the figure of a shadow, made sure to limit those casualties.
Ourin tossed a magic crystal to the shadowy figure materializing near the entrance—a flickering silhouette with hollow eyes that swallowed light.
The spirit nodded, its voice a rasp of grinding gears: "One hour. Survivability not guaranteed beyond standard parameters."
"Charming as ever", Ourin grinned
Runes flared beneath his boots, and gravity spiked instantly, pressing down like a mountain. His muscles strained, yet he smiled. The runes made it difficult to breath. Rumours said this was due to the draconic language. Others said they were related to the dark nature of the magic used.
However, this was nothing to the mist.
Ourin's mental fortitude far surpassed that of regular acolytes. Others dismissed their survival as luck. However, neither him nor Baerys could have survived with luck only. It was the unyielding spirit in front of the unknown that allowed them to seize this opportunity.
"Waves of attackers will start appearing...Summoning wave 1"
The first wave of attackers emerged: skeletal golems cobbled from prison remains, their joints screeching. Ourin lunged, fists crackling. He shattered a skull, pivoted, and drove his elbow into a ribcage. Bone shards clattered. Efficiency, not finesse. The Mist had carved brutality into his bones. It was completely unlike the 'textbook' swordsmanship he used to wield. The fanciness had been replaced by simple movements. Simple, but efficient. Stamina consumption had been optimized to a strict minimum.
A guttural roar echoed.
"Wave 1 successfully cleared...Summoning wave 2"
A hulking experiment—part troll, part chimaera—charged. As Nocturne's disciple, Ourin could see the resemblance between its body parts and those that lied in his master's laboratory. Most likely, it had failed Nocturne's expectations and ended up being dismissed as training materials.
Ourin dodged, but the gravitational field slowed him. Claws grazed his arm, drawing blood. He hissed, channeling his life force to boost his stats artificially. Unsheathing his sword, he parried the next lunge. The beast stumbled, its mind clearly unstable. Ourin leapt, driving a palm strike into its throat. It collapsed, twitching, and ended up beheaded seconds later.
"Cease." The shadow spirit's command froze the hall. "Interruption: Visitor."
Baerys stood at the edge of the platform, her blonde hair glowing faintly in the dimness. The straps and bandages covered in blood had been replaced by a pristine robe, reverberating in a verdoyant red colour. Her muddy face was now covered in expensive make-up, though her eyes still reflected sharpness and wilderness that came from one full year of survival in the mist.
"You've gotten slower", she said, though her gaze lingered on Ourin's scratched arm, slightly bleeding, "You cannot allow yourself to become complacent, or else you will die. You are still weak"
Ourin wiped sweat from his face. "And you came all the way to the dark tower, a place described as hell by our peers, just to scorn my weakness? What did you do to the kind and terrified Baerys I spent one full year with?"
"No", Her voice tightened, "I did not come to just talk"
"And here I thought we could do just that. If anything, we should be allowed a moment for ourselves. The real us. Not the ones that barely survived murloc attacks, or escaped skeleton mages' chase"
"Ourin. Although my family does not fully approve, they allowed me to create this contract", she said while tossing a scroll sealed with the Rienfield family crest, the declining magus family she came from.
After one full year in the mist, Ourin had come to know Baerys' background. She was unlike him, who grew up in the Chernobyl island, in a regular knight household. She had bathed into arcane arts since she was born. The elders in her family were level 3 acolytes, and the patriarch, a magus of legends, although he was said to be in his last decades of life.
Baerys had grade 2 talent, and was destined to be average. However, as a direct descendant of the matriarch, one of his eighteen daughters, she had been given the opportunity to study in the Mercifura Academy. Although it was a dangerous place, opportunities to grow stronger were numerous. With luck, she could become an elder in the future. If she was lacking, she could always return to the Rienfield fortress as an official. This was how rare acolytes were, even in magus families.
The words hung, heavier than the gravity array. Ourin's laugh was brittle. The conditions were harsh, very harsh. Although he would benefit from the Rienfield family's support in magic crystals and resources, he would have to obey Baerys. It was not the law of the jungle. Strength mattered less than talent, potential.
"Engagement? I am a lab rat under Nocturne's grasp. A warrior, if anything, not a noble plaything you can order around"
"We are meant to be together. My interests are aligned with yours. Shared resources, combined access to the family's research. Naturally, your talents were considered. My family possesses an inheritance from elemental magi. You might walk the path of body refinement, but you lack spells and people to guide you"
Cold, clinical. Magi didn't marry; they merged assets.
"Why now?", Ourin asked, "Although spells interest me, it is nothing I cannot acquire in the academy"
"I am not asking you to leave the academy. I am asking you to marry into my family. I even managed to negotiate a magical artefact for the both of us"
Ourin nodded. Magical artefacts were difficult to come by. Creating one was much more difficult than brewing a potion. It was a rare art that only a couple of magi possessed knowledge of, and with his downgraded version of the biochip, the odds of him ever creating one were small. Buying one was nearly impossible too. He lacked the connections of magus families.
Baerys' offer stood strong.
But the terms were harsh.
[Ourin Ironguard and Baerys Rienfield hereby pledge allegiance to House Rienfield.
Baerys receives the Ring of Glacial Pact, enabling her to summon an ice spirit (10-minute duration, 24-hour cooldown), while Ourin receives Frostfang Blade, a sword imbued with frost magic to slow foes. Both artefacts bound to their souls, reverting to House Rienfield upon death or contract breach.
House Rienfield's directives take precedence over all other obligations, including assassinations, espionage, and artefact retrieval. Failure to comply incurs escalating penalties: organ forfeiture, soul-branding, or execution.
Ourin will receive 10 magic crystals monthly as a Level 2 acolyte, doubling to 20 upon reaching Level 3. Should he ascend to Magus, he serves the family for 100 years—participating in wars, research, and covert operations. The contract is sealed with a blood oath, enforced by Magus Theresa Rienfield, matriarch of house Rienfield - Magus household reputed as the Northern Ice family]
If he accepted, he would have to prioritize the Rienfield's interests over his.
However, a magical artefact, one that matched his body refinement path, was too big of a prize to refuse. Actually, the mere allowance would have been enough for most acolytes to accept the offer.
Pragmatism had always been one of his core value, and merely nodded, drenching his family's seal into the contract.
"So be it, Baerys. Paired acolytes are often more likely to survive after all"
Baerys smiled.
"If you had not accepted, I would have forced you to. Two elders out of five opposed the marriage. Magical artefacts are that rare. But with these, we will be able to take more dangerous missions, and grow even stronger"