SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

Somewhere far from the wide expanse of stone pillars and crumbled golems in an undisclosed location, a small figure floated lazily.

His wings shimmered in the dim light of the chamber he was in as he rubbed his tiny dainty hands in satisfaction.

The Fairy, with his sharp eyes and mischievous grin, watched the chaos below with a faint sense of amusement.

He had been keeping a close eye on the adventurers ever since they entered his domain, scattering them to random floors and sections.

It was all part of his grand game. A twisted treasure hunt, where none of them even realized they were all playing into his plans.

"They're doing better than I expected though," the Fairy mused aloud, swirling his finger in the air.

A flicker of light manifested before him, revealing several small shimmering screens that displayed different parts of the sections.

On each screen, adventurers battled, struggled, or fell for traps, all of them unaware that they were being closely observed.

Nothing that was happening was coincidental. The disrespect to his person by the burly Adventurer was actually intentional.

He had banked on the rudeness of humans at the beginning and they hadn't disappointed him.

One of the screens showed Neron and Lily as they dispatched the last of the golems. The Fairy's eyes gleamed with interest as he zoomed in on the two.

"Ah, the masked one and his little partner," he chuckled. "Quite the pair. I wonder how long it'll take them to figure out that this isn't a test of strength... but a search."

He actually had no interest in the physical prowess of the humans as he was after something far more valuable.

Somewhere deep within the dungeon, hidden among the ruins, was the treasure he sought—an artifact of great power that even he, with all his magic, couldn't locate.

That's where the adventurers came in. They would do the dirty work, defeating guardians until ultimately one of them stumbled upon the prize.

It was guaranteed to work and when it did, he planned to swoop in and claim it for himself.

"Smart plan, right?" the Fairy whispered to himself with a grin. "I do all the thinking, and they do all the heavy lifting. Oh, this is going to be fun."

His amusement was interrupted by a soft chime, a ripple of magic that echoed through the chamber.

His playful expression vanished instantly, replaced by a look of sudden panic.

He knew who it was and he wasn't having a good feeling about talking with him at the moment.

His wings twitched slightly out of panic and a flicker of nervousness passed over his face.

He inhaled sharply and kept his posture rigid as he clasped his hands behind his back as the orb pulsed softly.

Then a voice boomed out from within the orb, shattering the silence.

"Number 11."

The Fairy stiffened, recognizing the voice immediately. He bowed his head slightly and lowered his wings in a gesture of respect.

"My King—" he began, but the voice cut him off.

"Number 11, remember our rules. While on missions for the Cult, you will address me by my rank, not my title."

The Fairy hesitated only a moment, his wings fluttering in a brief display of irritation before he caught himself.

"Yes, Number 3," he corrected, his tone more subdued. "Forgive me."

There was a pause as there was crackling through the orb, and then the deep voice of Number 3 continued, its tone sharper now. "Report. Have you found the Arcana?"

The Fairy, now referred to as Number 11, glanced around the darkened ruins that surrounded him.

"Not yet, Number 3. The site is vast, and there are complications... but I am close. The Arcana is here. I can feel it."

"Complications?" The voice from the orb sounded displeased. "You were given this mission because you were supposed to handle complications. What exactly is the problem?"

Number 11 took a steadying breath. He did not want to seem incapable. "Just that it seems to be well hidden even more than we expected but I'll take care of it soon enough. There won't be an issue."

The orb crackled again, and this time, there was a hint of amusement in Number 3's voice. "Hmm, is that all? You've trained a certain 'dog' to handle such nuisances, haven't you? Or was I misinformed?"

Number 11 cheeks reddened, though his eyes remained wary. He remembered saying something to that effect the last time that they had spoken.

"You were not misinformed, Number 3. I've been training a creature, a... tool, to deal with such distractions. When the time comes, I'll unleash it. The humans won't stand a chance."

"Good," the voice replied, though its tone was not entirely approving. "But remember, Number 11, the Arcana is the priority. If you waste time on these distractions, the Head will not be pleased. And neither will I."

Number 11's wings flared slightly at the mention of the Head. Even through the layers of magic and distance between them, the weight of that name hung heavy in the air. "Understood. The Arcana will be in my hands soon."

"See that it is." The orb pulsed once, brighter than before, and the voice of Number 3 lowered to a more dangerous tone. "And when you find it, you will inform me first, not the Head. Do I make myself clear?"

The tension in the air thickened as Number 11 straightened, his face betraying only a flicker of discomfort. "Of course, Number 3. You will be the first to know."

"Good." The orb pulsed again, a sign that the conversation was coming to a close. "I expect results soon. If you run into trouble, do not hesitate to ask for backup. Though I trust your... dog will suffice, we cannot afford to lose this opportunity. If you fail—"

"I won't fail," Number 11 interrupted, a bit too quickly. He felt a cold sweat forming on his brow despite the bravado in his voice. "The Arcana will be ours."

"Very well," the voice of Number 3 responded, colder now. "Do not disappoint me. You know what's at stake."

Before he could reply, the connection was cut and Number 11 let out a sigh he didn't know that he was holding.

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