SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

"We are here…"

Weeks had passed since the catastrophic obliteration of the Midas Empire, yet the island still reeked of death and destruction.

Lady Serah Crimson stood at the shoreline, the hem of her scarlet robes fluttering in the sea breeze. Her golden hair shone under the pale sunlight, contrasting starkly with the desolate, ash-covered land before her.

Around her, a small entourage of Eastern Empire officials in pristine, navy-blue uniforms moved with precision, their disciplined movements a testament to their elite training.

"This place…" Serah murmured, her soft voice tinged with unease.

Her brilliant amber eyes scanned the surroundings—barren, lifeless, and eerily silent.

The energy in the air was faint now, like the remnants of a nightmare lingering long after waking. But to her, it was disturbingly familiar.

One of the officials, a tall man with a commanding presence, approached her, saluting crisply.

"Grand Mage Serah, we've secured the perimeter and begun a thorough search of the area. The destruction is absolute. No survivors have been located thus far."

Serah nodded, her gaze still fixed on the distant ruins of what was once the grand palace of the Midas Empire. "Keep searching. I'll investigate further ahead."

"Yes, ma'am," the man replied, motioning for his squad to continue their sweep.

Serah's boots crunched softly against the debris-strewn ground as she made her way deeper into the heart of the desolation. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the oppressive aura that hung in the air.

She reached what remained of the palace, its once-regal golden walls now reduced to crumbling fragments.

Her hand moved instinctively, casting a spell that illuminated the area with a soft crimson glow. The faint outlines of residual energy danced like fireflies around her, chaotic yet faintly structured. The patterns were unmistakable—a signature she hadn't encountered in years but knew all too well.

"Could it really be…?" she whispered, her heart sinking.

After navigating the wreckage, Serah entered the Archives, the only part of the palace that had survived in some semblance of its original form.

The air was thick with dust and the faint hum of ancient magic.

Shelves of shattered crystal orbs lay scattered on the ground, but a single pedestal stood intact at the center of the room. Atop it was a glowing orb, pulsing faintly with recorded memories.

Serah hesitated for a moment, then reached out, allowing her magic to interface with the orb. A beam of light emerged, forming a projection in the air before her.

What she saw made her breath hitch.

The images played out like a nightmare: Neron, his expression cold and unyielding, cutting down soldiers, civilians, and even the mighty Sentinels with terrifying efficiency.

His Original Magic twisted the very fabric of time and space, turning men to dust and rendering his enemies powerless. The projection shifted to the final moments of the royal family—the Empress begging for her children's lives, only to meet her end by Neron's hand.

The devastation that followed was a symphony of destruction, Neron's rage consuming everything in its path.

When the recording ended, Serah stood frozen, her hands trembling.

The orb dimmed, its energy spent, but its message was clear.

"Why…?" she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Why would you do this, Neron?"

The sound of approaching footsteps broke her trance. One of her escorts entered the room, his face pale. "Lady Serah, we've completed our sweep. There are no survivors, not even remnants of life. It's as if… as if the entire island was erased."

Another soldier joined them, saluting quickly. "Grand Mage, we also found no source of the massive energy wave that was detected here weeks ago. Whatever caused it… it's gone now."

Serah closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"No, it's not gone," she said softly, her voice steady despite the storm within her. "I have an idea who caused it."

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to question her.

"Prepare the ship," Serah ordered, her tone firm. "We'll return to the Eastern Empire and regroup. There's much to report, and I'll need every detail of our findings consolidated immediately."

"Yes, ma'am!" they replied in unison, saluting before leaving to carry out her orders.

Serah lingered a moment longer, her gaze fixed on the now-dark orb.

Memories of the past flooded her mind—of Neron, the man she had once admired, perhaps even loved. What she had witnessed today was far removed from the person she thought she knew.

As she turned to leave, her resolve hardened.

Whatever had driven Neron to such destruction, she would find the truth. And if necessary, she would stop him—even if it meant facing him herself.

**********

[A Few Years Later]

The air around the ancient ruins was thick with the hum of dissipating magic as Neron emerged from the crumbling structure.

Dust and debris rained down, but he paid it no mind.

In his hand was the shimmering Arcana, [The Moon], its silvery glow pulsating faintly, as though alive.

It was the final piece, the culmination of countless missions, battles, and sacrifices.

"This is it," Neron muttered, his voice steady but edged with weariness. "The last one. Every Arcana has been found."

He tucked the card into a secure compartment in his cloak, his eerie eyes narrowing as he stared into the horizon. The ground beneath him trembled as the ruins continued to collapse, swallowed by the earth.

Neron turned away, his boots crunching against the uneven ground.

"It's time," he murmured, his voice filled with a sense of inevitability. "Time to merge them all and finally—"

His words caught in his throat.

He stopped abruptly, sensing a presence ahead.

His gaze darted upward, and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

There she was.

Serah Crimson.

The girl he had once known was gone, replaced by a striking woman in her twenties.

Her crimson hair, now tied in a high ponytail, shimmered under the waning sunlight, and her piercing red eyes glared at him with unflinching determination. Dressed in an elegant yet practical combat outfit adorned with the sigil of the Eastern Empire, she stood with her arms folded, her expression unreadable but laced with resolve.

"Neron," she said, her voice calm but firm, carrying an edge of authority that hadn't been there years ago.

She began to walk toward him, each step deliberate. "We need to talk."

Neron's expression hardened. His hand instinctively hovered near the hilt of his weapon, but he didn't draw it.

"Serah," he said flatly, his voice betraying no emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Her lips curled into a slight smirk, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, but we both know the answer, don't we?" She glanced briefly at the faint glow of [The Moon] in his cloak. "Another Arcana for your collection, I assume."

He said nothing, his gaze locked on hers.

She stopped a few paces away, lowering her arms.

"It's been years, Neron. Years since you destroyed the Midas Empire. Years since you disappeared, leaving behind nothing but death and questions. And now here you are, still chasing whatever it is you're after."

Neron's eyes narrowed. "I don't have time for this, Serah. Whatever you came to say—"

"You're going to listen," she interrupted sharply, her tone cutting through his words. "I didn't come all this way just to watch you walk away again."

For a moment, silence stretched between them, the distant sound of the collapsing ruins filling the void.

"Talk," Neron finally said, his voice low but laced with a warning. "And make it quick."

Serah took a deep breath, her gaze softening just a fraction. "I've spent years trying to understand why you did what you did. The Midas Empire was innocent, I went through their Archives and—"

"Then you know what they did to Legris."

"I… I didn't see anything that indicated they did what you claimed they did to him."

"Of course, you didn't…"

"I also loved Legris, and I was saddened to hear he died, but that doesn't mean you had to—"

"They deserved it," he replied coldly, his expression unchanging.

"Did they?" Serah shot back, her voice rising slightly. "All of them? Every single person on that island? The children? The innocent bystanders? What about the lives that had nothing to do with the royal family's purported sins?"

Neron's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

Serah took a step closer, her voice softening but no less intense. "You've become something unrecognizable, Neron. And I refuse to believe that the person standing in front of me is beyond redemption. Tell me… is this all worth it? These Arcanas, this power you're chasing—what's it all for?"

He hesitated, his hand clenching at his side. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," she challenged, her gaze unwavering.

Neron's lips pressed into a thin line. He turned his back to her, staring at the horizon.

"The world is broken, Serah. Magic… it's the root of it all. The wars, the suffering, the imbalance—it all stems from magic. The Arcanas are the key to ending it. To ending everything."

Serah's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself. "You still want to end magic? Even after all these years…"

"Yes," Neron said, his voice resolute. "Magic shouldn't exist. It's better that way."

She shook her head, taking another step toward him.

"You think you're the one who gets to make that choice? You've killed countless people in the name of your 'goal,' Neron. How many more have to die before you're satisfied?"

He turned to face her, his now glowing blue eyes burning with an intensity that made her pause.

"As many as it takes," he said, his voice like ice.

Serah's heart clenched at his words, but she didn't falter. "Then I have no choice," she said softly, her tone tinged with sadness. "If you're really committed to this path, I'll have to stop you."

Neron's gaze darkened. "You can try, but you'll fail."

For a moment, neither moved, the weight of their words hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Finally, Serah straightened, her expression hardening.

"This isn't over, Neron," she said, her voice steady. "I'll find a way to stop you, no matter what it takes."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her escorts falling into step behind her. Neron watched her go, his expression unreadable.

As the winds carried away the last remnants of the ruins, he whispered to himself, "We'll see."

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