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001 - The Graveyard of the End
🕑 Added 2024-12-08 22:41:13 +0000 UTCFirst - Previous - Next
Synopsys:
In a world where spirits are the very manifestation of all phenomena in the realm—be it the rain falling from the sky or the magma smouldering beneath the earth—Ethan was born to a Magister—one of the few high authorities in the pursuit of magic.
His life should have been idyllic, following the path laid out before him. However, upon his fourteenth birthday, during his awakening ceremony, he was found to have no affinity toward mana, sundered from the Veil, unable to form a contract with any spirit. His path to reach the apex of magic had been cut short from the start.
Years later, Ethan finds himself but a mere librarian, cataloguing ancient tomes within the Endless Library—the largest repository of magic within the Imperium. He had gained this post through nepotism, yet it came at a cost—renouncing his position as heir to his younger brother.
He lived a miserable life, only waiting to fade into obscurity, until he came upon a wordless black tome that would unravel his mediocre life, giving him back a path toward the peak, a brand new kind of magic not reliant on contracts with spirits—the Advent of Sorcery.
Follow Ethan through the mundane of his life as a librarian as he explore this new possibilities of magic, delving toward the depths of sorcery, but also his struggles as he seeks to keep this new opportunity hidden from those who wish to appropriate it from themselves, and also the politics of the Academy where the Endless Library resides.
******
Flames burst from the void in an explosion of colours. The air trembled slightly as a searing heat spread from its core. The blaze ripped through the air, scorching the very fabric of reality with but a single destination in mind. A second explosion occurred moments later, resulting in an intense updraft that left only blackened soil and soot behind.
Then came a frigid cold. The world stood still as frost covered the land. Leaves fell from the surrounding trees as they turned to ice, before shattering as they collided with the ground in a cloud of crystal dust.
In the epicentre of this change stood a large block of ice, reflecting the sun’s rays into rainbow arcs and glitters, only for a sharpened wind to blow. The breeze became a gale, creating a melodious rhythm, yet this rhythm was deadly. Blades of compressed air collided with the ice, slicing through with almost no resistance.
The singular glacier became two, then four, then many more until all that remained was a fog of crystal dust carried away by the violent winds. Not even the humidity of thawing water vapour remained behind as lingering evidence of its former existence.
Then came the dark of night as blackened clouds gathered overhead. A single bolt of lightning fell, shattering space itself in its descent, filling the world with overbearing sounds and light, blinding. The world echoed its destructive nature as the ground exploded into a rain of mud, leaving only signs of its ephemeral existence behind.
“Good work, you four!” a voice shattered the silence that followed as awe filled the world. “It seems your talents haven’t been wasted.”
Near the impact crater stood four youths and many others further back. While many were men, just as many were women. The four stood tall; their pride overflowed from their eyes as small grins appeared on their lips.
As for the crowd, most stood in awe, lost for words, yet some hid within the mass, unable to mask the jealousy swirling in their hearts. The four were the envy of many, as were the strange, colourful lights swirling around them.
One of the four turned to face the crowd and scoffed smugly. A small ball of red light swirled around him, landing on his shoulders and transforming into a reptile creature wreathed in flames. Yet the flame seemed to completely avoid the young man, almost as if he were immune to its effects.
The reptile's skin was ablaze but also dark red. Its long tail was wrapped around the young man's neck. The flame rose through the young man's hair yet scorched none of it, almost as if the flame itself were immaterial. Still, the reptile's existence elicited a reaction from the crowd.
“Look! Isn't that Salamander? How much Mana would you need to make it grow so big?"
Standing comfortably on the man's shoulders, the red reptile disinterestedly looked to the crowd, shaking its head and closing its eyes, ignoring the stares aimed at it. Yet, the man beamed under the attention, looking more smug than ever. However, he wasn't the only one garnering attention.
The other three also turned; pale blue, green, and yellow lights swirled around them, only to soon transform into various creatures, yet not all of them were animal-like. The green light turned into a bird the size of a head, softly standing upon a young woman's shoulder.
“How cute!”
Female voices emerged from the crowd, fawning over the tiny bird, only to be ignored entirely. A look of arrogance shone into the bird’s eyes, imitating its master’s countenance. The young woman serving as a perch for the avian entity merely scoffed before walking to the side, uninterested.
The yellow light turned into lightning, swirling around another man's wrist, almost as if it had become a bracelet. The world crackled as the bolt of lightning spun, discharging a small amount of power with every revolution.
The last pale blue light became a small doll made of ice, floating in the air as would snowflakes in the wind. The doll sported a long white dress that flowed behind her, almost like a curtain of snow blanketing the land. Her blue hair fell to her small hips like a waterfall, and her dark blue eyes reminded the audience of the wonders of the ocean’s depths.
Standing next to the doll was a young woman. She wore a uniform similar to those present, yet none were her match. She stood head and shoulders above the rest, whether in terms of looks or demeanour. Still, her attitude was cold, and her eyes colder. Despite the cheers and looks of adulation aimed at her, none was reflected in her eyes. She remained as cold as the dead of winter. She was the very embodiment of frost.
A short distance away, a young man of no more than twenty walked along a lengthy corridor. He had glanced at the fabulous display, yet his steps didn't falter. If anything, his pace had only accelerated, wishing to remove himself from the area. His brows were creased, and a slight hint of disgust flashed in his eyes. As for who it was aimed at, only he knew.
His gaze perfectly lined up with the pale blue woman, if only for a moment. Their gazes intersected, yet he couldn't see himself reflected in her eyes. It was as if his existence was nothing more than a mirage in the distance—as if reality itself denied his very existence.
For a mere moment, his features twisted. As for what emotions lay beneath it all, only he knew. His feet carried him away from the source of it all, only ever faster. It was then that a collision happened.
The man had been carrying multiple old grimoires. They were bound in leather and securely closed shut, yet the impact knocked them out of his hands, causing them to fall to the ground as if in hail, creating consecutive dull sounds that echoed within the hall.
Before him was a small woman sporting the same uniform as those outside. She was young, no more than sixteen, and her back was turned to him. Her long auburn hair masked most of her features, yet the man could see a dark blue hearing dangling from the side of her head.
She turned to face him, an apologetic look on her visage, only for it to fade as soon as she noticed no such earring was attached to the man's ear. Yet, her expression didn't devolve into a sneer but into apathy. She gave him but a dismissive glance before turning around and walking away, leaving the man to pick up the numerous old books that littered the floor.
Despite this being a crowded hallway, none of those around offered help, nor even acknowledged his existence. In fact, they merely swerved around him as if an unconscious thought had been planted in their minds. Yet, this apathy couldn’t help but make his blood boil, but he could only repress it to the bottom of his heart. He merely sighed and rose back up, continuing as if nothing had just happened.
At the end of the corridor was a massive double door of dark wood. Countless mythical creatures were carved into its surface. On each side of the hall were two massive frescoes depicting countless living beings, whether large land mammals, aquatic beasts, majestic avians or even more exotic creatures.
They were depicted with such mastery that they felt almost alive, as if a piece of their soul had been implanted into this masterpiece. As for what means were used in their creation, the man had no idea. It seemed more plausible for it to be the work of a god instead of a man.
Just as the man stepped before the door, a badge hidden under the man's clothes began to shine, a symbol of light peering through the dark robe. The same symbol began to shine upon the two large doors, only for them to open automatically, allowing him passage. He stepped through the threshold without missing a beat, only for the symbols to become inert again and the doors to close behind him.
He now stood inside a massive library comprising multiple levels, almost endlessly so. Rows of bookcases were scattered upon each floor, almost haphazardly. Countless staircases allowed movements in all directions, creating a three-dimensional maze that one could easily lose oneself in. Yet, there was a method to the madness, at least for one able to see through it.
The man's badge shone once again, creating a light trail through the air, marking the way, yet the man ignored it. Instead, he veered off course, diving deep into the maze. His steps were assured, almost as if he had just returned home.
Less than five minutes later, after taking numerous sharp turns and stepping through countless doorways, the man finally arrived at his destination: a small desk buried under countless books where an older man slept soundly, slumped into a large chair with his head tilted backwards as a dusty old book rested open, covering his visage.
“I'm back," the young man said, rousing the older one. "I have what you asked for."
With a thud, the young man let the numerous books fall on the only clear corner of the desk. Without so much as a glance more, the man turned to leave, only to be stopped as a wind began to blow. Countless old parchment and dusty pages rose from the floor, as well as the desk, only to dance in the air as if a well-rehearsed choreography.
Most zoomed past each other as if the tomes had become flying birds, while others merely spun in place, creating a magical sight. And yet, the young man barely reacted. If anything, the young man’s expression became grim, almost as if this spectacle was an affront he couldn’t endure. He scoffed as he walked forward, only for the doors of this secluded office to slam shut before him.
“Ethan!" the older man said as he peered through the page covering his visage. "Why such a hurry to leave?"
Ethan stopped, yet kept his back turned, only to sigh deeply.
“I have work to do," he said, not even trying to hide the reproach laced deep within. "This errand of yours has already wasted enough of my time."
“Why the thorns?” the older man said as he removed the tome. “Did Professor Bridget say anything?”
“No more than usual,” Ethan replied as he turned to face the man.
His eyes seemed dead as if the world reflected through them was monochrome. There was no shine in them, which couldn't help but elicit a slight hint of sorrow from the man. However, that hint was fleeting at best as a grin appeared on his face.
“Why such a sour look?” the man said. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“It wasn’t,” Ethan replied dryly. “I’ve long grown used to it. Can I go now?”
Hearing his words, the man's smile slowly faded, replaced with a look of sympathy. He sighed deeply as he observed the books and pages' magical airborne dance, only for the emerald earring dangling from his left ear to shine bright and a mysterious green outline to emerge.
Just as soon as it appeared, the earring lost its shine, becoming a much duller green. The outline danced back and forth within the air yet remained somewhat human-like. It seemed to be wearing a long, fluttering green dress, yet it appeared immaterial at best. Its boundary seemed undefined, almost as if it were the breeze itself.
“Lying isn’t good, little Ethan,” the green outline said as its features shifted like the wind, yet filled with derision.
Its voice felt like the rustling of the wind in the leaves, like the whispers of the world, yet it also felt strangely feminine. She wrapped her hands around the man's neck and let her long green dress flutter behind her.
“Now, now," the man said, gently patting her head as he would a child. "Ethan is all grown up now. I'm sure he can take care of himself."
Ethan’s gaze didn’t shift in the slightest, looking toward the man with apathy in his eyes, yet he couldn’t hide the trace of envy hidden deep within.
“Did Sylph say something?” he said, looking at the now dull green hearing, yet a slight hint of frustration cut through, enough so the man could pick up on it.
“A shame you were born without mana,” the man lamented. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like not being able to hear her voice.”
Ethan's eyes became even more lifeless, colder than a raging winter storm. Yet the man only offered a forced chuckle as he had just realized the effect of his words. Yet, he hadn't the time to take them back as a storm brewed within the room. Sylph’s nonexistent gaze was locked onto Ethan, as if an instinctive reaction to his heightened negative emotions aimed at her master.
She swung her hand, creating a large blade of compressed wind that barrelled toward Ethan’s neck. Only at the moment of its creation did Ethan realize the danger he was now in. Through inhuman reaction time, he managed to shift his body weight to the side, evading the wind blade by mere millimetres, only for it to graze the side of his cheek, drawing blood.
Ethan's expression was one of fear and shock as he gazed in the man's direction, only for the same shock—but also helplessness—to be directed back at him, along with anger. However, the anger wasn't aimed at him.
“Sylph! Enough!” the man yelled.
His deep voice boomed and echoed within the room, shattering the lingering breeze, only for the countless levitating books and pages to fall back to the ground in unison. The green earring began to shine, almost like chains of light spun within. The ethereal green outline shuddered, almost as if a child knowing his wrongs, sheepishly looking toward the man, but also casting daggers at Ethan with her eyes, which he remained utterly oblivious to.
As if feeling her emotions, the man took the green elemental’s blurred hands into his, calming her down. His anger slowly faded, replaced with an apologetic look.
“Listen,” he said softly to the green woman next to him. “How could I explain this to Ethan’s sister if something were to happen to him? You can’t let your emotions get the better of you.”
Ethan's shock soon faded. His eyes became even duller than before, almost as if he had just given up on the fury smouldering in his heart. All that remained was a deep-seated apathy that seemed much too overwhelming, encroaching on every part of him. He looked toward the man as he would a stranger despite the ties that bound them.
“Ethan, please forgive her," the man added as he finally turned to face Ethan, a mildly apologetic look on his face. Yet he seemed to ignore the blood dripping from his cheek as if it were inconsequential. "She's just a child, after all. I'm sure something this small isn't worth reporting to your sister. She's a busy woman. Don't you agree?"
Ethan’s hand brushed against the bleeding wound, then brought the smeared red blood to his eyes, only to close them soon after, finally unclenching the tight fist hidden behind his back. He uttered a small sigh before opening them again, looking straight at the man before him.
“I agree, brother-in-law,” Ethan said, forcing the words out of his throat. “Something this small isn’t worthy of her knowledge. That said, work awaits me. Am I free to go, Head Librarian, or do you require something else?”
The man sighed before tilting his head backwards again as he waved him goodbye. The wind picked up another book and rested it again on his head. Just as Ethan exited the room, he could clearly hear a loud snore echo before a gentle wind blew, closing the large door behind him.
Ethan stomped through the halls, the echo of his footsteps absorbed by the countless books lining the ever-changing maze. His fist was clenched so tightly that his knuckles faded to white as his nails dug into his skin. His jaw was locked tight, teeth clenched against each other, suppressing the rage threatening to spill over.
His steps were fast but heavy, almost a run, yet not quite. He weaved and bent through this literary maze, his eyes darting from spine to spine as countless obscure titles were reflected in his eyes until he arrived at the one he was searching for.
In a dark, abandoned part of this archive, where none dared to tread but him, Ethan found a completely black book. There was no title on its spine, only an endless abyss seeking to devour everything it touched. Yet, it was harmlessly nestled between Anatomy of Giant Man-Eating Earthworms Volume 5 and The Effects of Mana-Induced Delirium in the Common House-cat.
Ethan used a single finger, tugging on the book's spine, only for it to be dislodged from the bookcase, if ever so slightly. Then, his world faded to black, and his existence disappeared from the library. No trace remained, not even in the dust that lingered in his former surroundings. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air.
Ethan appeared on the other side, in a world completely painted black. Yet, in the distance, a wooden door stood alone in the darkness. Without missing a beat, Ethan approached it, only for the door to open on its own. Beyond the threshold, a most mundane sight could be gleaned, yet it seemed magical at the same time.
Despite the darkness surrounding the door, once Ethan stepped through, he found himself in a small room where only a bed, a wooden desk, and a chair existed, but also large bookcases taking up the entirety of the four walls. There was no ceiling, however, just countless lights flashing in the distance, as if the night sky, yet they stood completely immobile no matter how much time passed, almost as if they existed in a single, unending moment.
Ethan sat at the desk, flipping through the countless books strewn upon it, only to find the one he was looking for: the same pitch-black book he had just entered. He opened it, only for the first page to be an exact replica of the wooden door, standing alone in the darkness, but it was now open, allowing Ethan to even see a glimpse of himself through it.
A strange feeling rose in his heart, and he slammed the book shut. Sweat poured from his pores, and his heart drummed in his chest. His breath was cut short as fear overwhelmed him.
Careful... he thought. Calm yourself... No need to be so impatient... Soon, they will all see that Mana isn’t everything that makes a mage worthy!
His eyes were now calm, focused. He carefully reopened the book, skipping the first page, yet most others were only blank with darkness. Only a few had obscure runes written on them, but he skipped them without missing a beat, only to stop on a double spread.
On the black pages were countless cryptic designs arranged in a circular formation. Although static, Ethan felt them swirl and move as if in a vortex, seeking to swallow his consciousness whole. He could barely stop himself from being devoured, needing to take a rest every few seconds not to fall even deeper. And yet, the same design was carved into the room’s wooden floor. Although crude and incomplete, the same feeling emanated from it.
I am almost there... Just a bit more...
Keeping the book in check, Ethan opened one of the numerous small drawers only to find a small wooden box. From it, he took out a large needle the size of his hand. The point was sharp, and the shaft narrow. The handle fit snugly in his hand, almost as if it had been made to be so. Many runes were also carved onto it, the same ones that could be found within the black book's previous pages.
He rose, book and needle in hand, before kneeling on the floor in the centre of the circle, facing the only part which differed from the drawing.
Only a single rune left... Only a single one before I can finally escape from this nightmare!
With resolve in his eyes, Ethan plunged the needle into the wooden floor. Its shaft was white and hard, yet not made of metal. In fact, it seemed more like bone, ancient even. Yet, it pierced through the wood as if through butter, leaving a deep crevasse into the material as if searing through it.
Sweat dampened Ethan's forehead, even dripping onto the floor, yet his hand never stopped following the book's diagram. Although only one remained, more than half an hour passed. Yet, Ethan remained completely focused on its completion, and soon, it came to pass.
The last one was finally done.
Ethan collapsed on his back, heaving up and down, fatigue assaulting his mind. It took him more than ten minutes to regain control. He finally stood back up to observe the masterpiece below his feet. Although he had never felt the flow of Mana, he now felt like he could. The circle seemed to pulse with unknown power; he even believed he saw it shine slightly.
A large smile covered his face, ecstasy rising in his heart. He looked upon his work with pride; months of work finally bearing fruit. He was now at the threshold of a new world yet felt no apprehension. In fact, all he felt was anticipation. He had waited years for this moment, and now it was finally upon him.
Taking a few steps back, Ethan firmly gripped the black book as he gently returned the needle to its case and then back into the drawer, only to open the book to the last page. As soon as the page was turned, the black ink seemed to leave the page, turning it completely white as it rose in the air and entered his eyes.
The world shifted as all he saw was a sea of darkness and an ocean of black. Yet, waves rose upon that sea. Within were the countless runes of light, dancing within the flow, forming sentences filled with meaning, yet Ethan knew not of what they spoke. He only felt the words flow through him, their meaning ephemeral, yet the essence remained.
His consciousness seemed to fade, yet a sea of stars arose in his mind. He felt the world spin, yet it had never been clearer. He saw the world in its entirety, from birth to demise, as if he were but a god, an external observer of the flow of time. Whether this was real or a hallucination, Ethan had no idea. Still, he had no time to ponder it.
Words spilled from his mouth, words filled with ancient meaning—a long-dead tongue in this modern world. Despite this language eluding him, Ethan was fluent, the words crisp and vibrant as they echoed within the small room and to the darkness beyond.
One by one, the runes on the floor began to shine as the sound collided, bringing them to life. The words felt like ancient songs, dancing in the air as they resonated with the written ones, bathing the darkness with life like the birth of a galaxy.
Countless lights rose from the ground, rising beyond the bounds of the four walls as they spun within the air. They congregated into a mass of miniature stars, a duality of light and darkness. The edge of their light became indefinite, blending into darkness. A dark shadow filled with stars hung over Ethan, filling the world with its presence.
Words appeared in Ethan's mind, pounding with such force that they resounded in his skull. They were ancient and cryptic, similar to those he had uttered but a moment ago, yet their meaning flew through, leaving their remnants in his conscious mind.
Who dares to awaken me!
Ethan felt his knees buckle as his world began to spin. The surrounding emptiness was now filled with something that shouldn't exist, threatening to spill and break its own bounds, yet the rune circle engraved into the floor began to shine further as if trying to battle the lustre of the stars swirling within this ocean of darkness.
Ethan's head rose, staring straight into the depths of this ocean of darkness, seeking the galaxy of stars hidden within, yet he could barely sustain the sight. He felt his head throb, as if the shadow's existence alone was enough to threaten his sanity as if his mind would collapse with but a further glance, yet he persevered, his wish now within reach.
“I did,” Ethan uttered, his voice firm, even against the tide.
The sea of stars exploded, filling the darkness except for two voids looking downwards, aimed straight at Ethan. He felt his whole body shake, yet his gaze remained firm and resolved, peering straight into the abyss.
Mortal!
The words crashed upon him, threatening to destroy his balance and make him collapse. Blackness began to take over him as his consciousness slowly faded, but he bit his lips, drawing blood, only for the pain to jolt him awake. Yet, this was only the beginning.
Have you any concept of what you have unleashed upon the world? I am the graveyard where all spirits come to take their final rest, the repository of their knowledge and power. I am what will remain at the end of existence! The time has yet to come; my advent is premature!
“I care not!” Ethan shouted, rage filling his voice. “I sought you out for my own ends! Why should I care what happens to the world!”
The world remained silent as the two stared at each other. The stars spun without end as if a whole universe was contained within. Only ever more distant stars lay beyond the darkness, their light traversing unending distances yet never allowed to reach.
What is it that you seek, mortal...
A small smile appeared on the corner of Ethan's lips, as well as a glint in his eyes, only for him to rise to his feet and take a few steps toward the shining circle carved into the wood. His gaze remained upwards, never leaving the two points of darkness. Yet, he suddenly thrust his hand forward, passing the boundary of the cage of light restraining the massive shadow overhead, preventing its escape, but also materializing its conceptual existence.
“You...” Ethan muttered, eyes narrowed, sharp and deadly, only for his hand to grasp within the darkness, ripping a chunk of this immaterial entity.
HOW DARE YOU!
The world shook as an explosion of light and darkness appeared in the middle of the circle, as if it were the birth of a universe but also its end. The large shadow shook and wavered, the stars dimming rapidly as if a part of its existence had been sundered.
Countless sounds and meanings crashed onto Ethan, propelling him off his feet until he collided with the nearby wooden wall. A loud thud echoed as he slumped to the ground, leaving the imprint of his back on it, yet a part of the darkness remained firmly in his hand.
The shadow looked downward as a massive blackened hand sought to reach for him, yet couldn’t bypass the boundary of the small room, unable to retrieve what it had lost.
The circle's light began to fade, and the dark universe overhead slowly faded out of existence. The more it struggled, the faster its boundary dispersed into the night. In less than a few seconds, only a few dim lights remained until even their existence faded into blackness.
Mortal... One may applaud your courage, but remember this well... No boon comes without price... Your selfishness may become your undoing...
The entity calling itself the Graveyard of the End faded into obscurity, slowly awaiting its next awakening, yet Ethan couldn’t care less. In his hand was a piece of it, a piece of what he had sought to grasp. A sneer appeared on his lips as the last few words of this entity echoed his mind, yet he merely scoffed.
What undoing... My life is already a living hell; how can it become even worse. But, with this... I can finally achieve what I’ve longed for so long...
Slumped on the ground, a slight trace of blood at the corner of his lips, Ethan glances at a mass of wriggling shadow held firmly in his grasp. A genuine smile appeared on his face, only for a hearty laugh to echo within the room, followed by an unending cough as a mass of blood ejected from his mouth. Still, it only took him a moment to regain his calm.
With steel-like resolve, Ethan stared at the mass of blackness, only to bring it to his mouth and swallow. Suddenly, his world turned black as he lost consciousness, yet the smile remained.
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Comments
Jesse
I agree with the other comments. I think a synopsis would go a long way in getting a sense of the story. I am very interested in a mage story. I wasn't a big fan of all the angst and sneering. Need to see more honestly.
Irakli Jishkariani
Aaah, that is far more interesting than I anticipated
Zarthos
Here's a little backstory on how I envision this world's lore. Since ancient times, magic has been done through contracts with spirits by sacrificing your mana to them, so that they may influence the outside world. The Graveyard of the End isn't linked to necromancy, but just a repository of power—a system that transform dying spirit who have reach the end of their lifespan into pure mana. By swallowing a part of it, MC only gains what he once lacked, mana alone. However, spirits can feel the Graveyard's presence, and can't help but loath the MC in response as the Graveyard is akin to death to them. As such, he must now find a brand new way to acquire magic—one that doesn't rely on spirits. Hence, the Advent of Sorcery.
Irakli Jishkariani
Oh yeah I'm gonna insult necromancy a bit more 😀😀 How can construct of rotting bones contend with magic golem?? I get it memories of deceased but that's just lazy. Magic is associated with exploration in some way. Either application of magic, orogin of magic or foundation, magical forces, magical entities, magical planes. If theres not at least one of them then I don't read it
Irakli Jishkariani
Woow. When I read disability I thought this may be "divine intervention"/"i had op power but didn't know it" Good thing that wasn't. But there are other risks for me. I don't read necromancer novels, it is so overused I gag about reading necromancer. Black magic or bloid magic is meh too. For me magic should be neutral tool character can use any way. Also, I don't read novel if mc has personality corruption or is unreliable narrator (like mental disorder or something or just illness hallucinations and stuff) If it's elemental magic please make it unconventional, especially if it is aggressive element like fire or even worse lightning. It's dull most of the time. Either fireball or fire spear and lightning bolt or fast reflexes. That's why I look for water magic because it forces caster to think unconventionally, if it's not just about ice though. Contracts or dealing with some entities are good but if it requires stupid sacrifices it turns very sour. I have difficulty to swallow mc's stupid actions. That's just my thoughts about it. Either i read it or I don't
