The library was quiet—not the peaceful kind of silence, but something far more suffocating. The air hung damp and heavy, thick with the scent of aged parchment and dust, as though the room itself had long since been abandoned by time. Towering shelves stretched endlessly into shadow, their contents untouched, their knowledge forgotten. And at the center of it all, lying upon the cold marble floor, was the book. Its cover was made of dark, blackened leather, worn yet unnaturally intact, as if decay itself had failed to claim it. Strange, swirling symbols were etched across its surface, shifting ever so slightly the longer one stared. Selion's breath caught in his throat as recognition dawned. He knew those markings. Anyone who had studied even the most basic history of the empire would recognize them—they belonged to a name that had once plunged the entire continent into fear. Luke Spellbound.
An archmage whose existence defied reason, Luke Spellbound was a man who had abandoned all restraint, delving into the deepest and most forbidden forms of magic. He had committed atrocities against the Royal Empire, tearing through cities, shattering armies, and defying the very order that bound the world together. It was said he did not seek power for status, nor recognition, but for domination—for freedom beyond the control of kings and crowns. And so, he became the empire's greatest enemy. The one who stood against him was no less legendary: Lucy Valemont, the Empire's greatest mage, the only one to stand at the peak of human magic, the one who had risen beyond all others and earned the right to stand beside the royal family. Where Luke represented chaos, she represented order. Where he rejected the system, she embodied it. Their clash had not merely been a battle of strength, but of ideology—a war that would decide the fate of the empire itself. And in the end, Lucy Valemont had won. Luke Spellbound had fallen… or so history claimed.
Selion frowned, his gaze fixed on the book, unease settling deep in his chest. "…then why is this here…?" he muttered under his breath. A book tied to a man like that, hidden in a place like this—it didn't make sense. But something about it felt wrong. The air around it seemed heavier, still, almost as if it were watching him. He took a slow step forward, then another, his instincts screaming at him to stop even as his body refused to listen. His hand reached out, fingers trembling slightly, and the moment his skin brushed against the cover, the symbols moved.
A pulse of energy surged through the room. The air warped violently, pressure crashing down on him like an invisible force as the pages of the book flipped open on their own, faster and faster, the symbols glowing with an unnatural light. Selion's eyes widened in shock. "What the—" The ground beneath him twisted, reality itself bending as the walls stretched unnaturally, as though being dragged into something unseen. A powerful force seized his body, pulling him forward without mercy. "No—!" he shouted, trying to resist, but it was useless. The force was absolute. The world shattered, light swallowed everything, and then—darkness.
He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs as his body slammed against rough, uneven stone. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, his mind still reeling from the violent shift. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his vision clearing—and what he saw was not the library. Endless darkness stretched in every direction, the ground beneath him cracked and fragmented like shattered stone suspended in a void. Broken ruins floated in the distance—pillars, fragments of structures drifting aimlessly, as though gravity no longer applied. There was no sky, no light—only an oppressive, endless abyss. Selion's breath slowed as confusion set in. "…where…" he began, only for a voice to answer him.
"This?"
The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once. Selion froze instantly as a crushing pressure descended upon him, suffocating and absolute, forcing his body downward as though something far greater stood above him. "You're inside it." His eyes snapped forward—and then he saw him. A figure stood not far away, as though he had always been there. Tall, composed, watching. The very air around him seemed to distort, unable to withstand his presence. His eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness, carrying a depth that felt far too ancient… far too dangerous. Selion's body locked in place, his instincts screaming at him to run—but he couldn't move.
"…Luke… Spellbound…" the name slipped from his lips unconsciously.
The man smiled, not warmly, not kindly, but with quiet amusement. "Well," he said softly, tilting his head slightly, "at least you're not completely ignorant." Selion's chest tightened. This wasn't history. This wasn't legend. He was real. "…you're alive…?" he asked, his voice unsteady. Luke let out a faint chuckle. "Alive?" he repeated, as though the word itself amused him. "Such a simple way to describe something so… complicated." His gaze sharpened as it settled on Selion, and his smile widened just slightly. "…what an utterly pathetic thing you are."
The words struck without hesitation. Selion flinched. "Barely any mana. A broken body. A weak will…" Luke continued casually, almost bored. "And yet… you survived." There was a pause, brief but heavy. "…interesting." Selion's fists clenched tightly. "…shut up…" he muttered. Luke raised a brow. "Oh?" The pressure in the air intensified, crushing down harder, forcing Selion's body to tremble as his knees threatened to give out—but he didn't fall. Not this time. "I said…" his voice shook, but it didn't break, "…shut up."
For a moment, there was silence. Then Luke laughed—a low, quiet sound that echoed endlessly through the void. "Good," he murmured. "There's at least something inside you worth noticing." He stepped forward, and in an instant, the distance between them vanished. Selion's breath caught as Luke stood directly before him. Up close, his presence was overwhelming—like standing before something that should not exist. "You want power, don't you?" Luke asked casually. Selion froze. "…what?" Luke's eyes narrowed slightly. "To survive. To kill. To rise above the trash that crushed you…" his smile returned, sharp and knowing, "…you want strength."
Selion said nothing—but he didn't need to. Luke chuckled softly. "Then I'll give it to you." Selion's eyes widened in disbelief. "…what?" "But not for free," Luke added, his voice lowering slightly. The space around them shifted, dark symbols forming beneath Selion's feet, glowing faintly, far more complex than anything he had ever seen. "A contract," Luke said simply. Selion's heart pounded violently in his chest. "…what kind of contract…?" Luke's smile deepened, something far more dangerous hidden beneath it. "The kind you won't fully understand. But the result?" His gaze sharpened. "…power."
Selion's fists trembled as memories flooded his mind—his mother, his father, the pain, the helplessness. His jaw tightened. "…fine." The word left him before he could stop it. Luke's grin widened. "Good." The symbols flared to life instantly. A searing pain tore through Selion's body as something unseen carved itself into his very being. His breath hitched sharply, his body trembling violently as the contract took hold. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel safe. But it was power.
Luke stepped back, watching him with clear satisfaction. "Now then…" he said, raising a hand slightly. A perfect, intricate magic circle formed instantly before him—far beyond anything Selion had ever seen. "…let's fix that pathetic excuse you call magic." Selion's eyes locked onto it, his breath slowing as realization dawned. The way he had been using magic… was wrong. Completely wrong. Luke's voice echoed softly through the void.
"Watch carefully."