Warlock Of The Magus World FF: Dark Lord

In a rather desolate pathway, there was a wooden sign in the middle of a crossroad, riddled with several holes. It read—The land of shadows and death – Bone Abyssal Moor!

Dorotte stretched his skeletal limbs, the creaking of his bones echoing through the moor. "Stay close! Though our academy acolytes cleanse this place regularly, some creatures still lurk. If you stray, we'll be paying our respects at your grave soon enough!"

The acolytes tensed and followed closely, their footsteps cautious.

As they moved forward, Leylin's sharp eyes caught a brief flash of movement—a blue-horned creature vanishing into the mist. His fingers instinctively brushed the magic ring on his middle finger.

"Oh? Keen senses, boy." The green flames in Dorotte's sockets flickered with amusement.

They soon entered a darkened forest. The air grew colder, and mist coiled around the gnarled trees, muffling their steps.

A sudden screech cut through the silence.

Leylin reacted instantly, activating his magic artifact to dodge as a black raven with blood-red eyes dived toward him.

Kak!

The bird veered off and targeted a female acolyte, talons extended—

Boom!

A greenish liquid shot through the air, striking the raven mid-flight. The bird shrieked, crashing to the ground, where its body melted into nothing, leaving behind only a scorched imprint on the earth.

Dorotte scoffed. "Tch. Their numbers are increasing again. More work for the acolytes when we return."

The shaken girl wiped her eyes and trudged forward. Leylin remained indifferent, while Jayden clenched his fists—his eyes flickering with resentment at Leylin's possession of a magic artifact. It seemed he wasn't as favoured as he assumed, and from the undulation from Leylin body he is most probably stronger than him.

An hour later, they reached the heart of the forest.

Before them lay an immense graveyard.

Black and white marble graves stretched into the mist, some covered in vines, others bearing perched ravens that croaked ominously.

Dorotte sneered. "Welcome to your home of shadow and death—Abyssal Bone Forest Academy."

Leylin observed his surroundings with an analytical gaze. The density of dark and shadow energy was astonishing. A perfect environment for strengthening dark magic.

At the graveyard's center stood a massive black castle-like tomb, its entrance flanked by two grotesque stone statues—a two-headed dog bristling with spikes and a winged earthworm with serrated fangs.

As Dorotte approached, the earthworm's mouth twisted open, stone dust crumbling as it rasped, "Password."

Dorotte rolled his eyes. "Jumal, you already know who I am!"

The statues chuckled, their laughter kicking up a small gust.

"Rules are rules," the dog purred. "Or… would you prefer to play with us?" The earthworm's claws curled in mock invitation.

Dorotte groaned. "I swear, whoever designed this deserves to be buried in the deepest pit—Fine! The password is I hate smelly bones!"

The statues howled with laughter but stepped aside.

A muffled snicker came from the acolytes.

Leylin's gaze flicked toward the offender, his lips curving in amusement. A mere acolyte laughing at a Magus? What is this, Hogwarts?

Dorotte's sockets burned with green fire. "It seems the newcomers need a lesson in respect."

Snap!

"Ahhh!" The acolyte who had laughed shrieked and collapsed, clawing at something invisible. The others recoiled.

"Magi can jest among themselves, but acolytes must know their place," Dorotte stated coldly.

Leylin smiled inwardly. A world where only strength dictates status… how wonderful.

The group moved on, descending into the academy through a spiral stone staircase that plunged into darkness.

The deeper they went, the more immense the underground structure revealed itself to be. It wasn't just a school—it was an underground kingdom.

Dorotte continued explaining as they walked. "Founded in the Gregorian Year 324, this academy has stood for nearly a thousand years. The founder—Merlin Falek Driwilc—ensured its secrecy and strength. That graveyard above? Just a facade. Below, we thrive."

He gestured toward an imposing steel door. "This is the administration hall. You won't want to visit often."

An aged voice called from inside, "Dorotte, enter."

The doors creaked open, revealing a vast chamber lined with towering bookshelves. At the center, an elderly Magus with red eyebrows and a long white beard scribbled on parchment.

"You're late," the old man noted without looking up.

"Blame a giant storm sprite," Dorotte muttered.

The old man's gaze swept over the acolytes before settling on Jayden and Leylin. His eyes gleamed. "Interesting… You've brought promising ones this time. Even I'm tempted to take an apprentice."

Dorotte smirked. "Too bad, they're already mine." He shoved a stack of forms at the old man.

The elder adjusted a pair of golden-rimmed spectacles. "Fifth-grade acolytes, both of them… Not bad."

Jayden stiffened slightly. He had always believed himself to be special—yet here was Leylin, standing beside him, equally recognized.

"Jayden, Leylin," the old Magus said. "Do you accept Dorotte as your master?"

"I do," Jayden said stiffly, his eyes briefly flickering toward Leylin.

Leylin simply nodded. "I accept."

"Good." The old man handed them each a black pouch. "These are yours. Keep them close."

Dorotte wasted no time. "Great! We're done here. I've got experiments waiting." He yanked Jayden and Leylin forward, dragging them away from the office.

Leylin glanced at the pouch in his hand and smirked. The first step into the world of Magi begins now.

....

The torches flickered dimly along the cold stone walls as Dorotte led Leylin and Jayden through the winding corridor. His voice, hoarse yet steady, echoed off the walls.

"As an official mentor in the Department of Shadow, my specialization lies in anatomy, the conversion of energy, and necromancy. These are my core areas of expertise," he explained, his aged fingers tracing a rune on the stone as they passed. "However, I possess substantial knowledge in other fields. Should you require guidance beyond my expertise, other mentors may assist you—for a price, of course."

Leylin narrowed his eyes. The way Dorotte spoke made it clear that everything in this institution came with a cost.

'And it seems they won't take the matter of students entering restricted area lightly. I must be careful around here, even Dorotte wouldn't fight against a Magus for me unless I prove my worth.'

"You two are not merely students—you are my apprentices," Dorotte continued, his green eyes glinting in the torchlight. "Unlike the others, you do not need to pay me monthly fees. Instead, you will assist me in my experiments. This is the price of your tutelage."

A sharp pause followed.

Dorotte turned to face them, his gaze cold yet unreadable. "You will soon understand the true nature of knowledge in the Department of Shadow."

With that, he gestured to the slaves standing behind him. "Follow them. They will take you to your rooms."

The two young apprentices bowed their heads slightly before turning to follow the silent figures.

The slaves walked ahead with a mechanical precision, their movements eerily synchronized. The corridor stretched far, twisting and turning unpredictably. The deeper they went, the more Leylin noticed strange carvings on the walls—symbols pulsating with faint energy, depictions of experiments, and markings of names long forgotten.

Dark, iron-banded doors lined the hallway at intervals, some slightly ajar, revealing glimpses of eerie blue light or the faint sound of whispers. Leylin suppressed the urge to peek inside, knowing full well that curiosity in such a place could be dangerous.

At a junction where the path split into three directions, the slaves stopped momentarily before motioning toward separate paths.

Jayden glanced at Leylin and turned left while Leylin was led down the rightmost corridor.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at his dormitory. The slave guiding him halted in front of a door marked with the number 945, then, without a word, turned and left. The absence of farewell or acknowledgment made the moment feel all the more unsettling.

Leylin took a deep breath, pulling out the key issued by old magus earlier. It was heavier than he expected—black copper, aged, and cold to the touch. The engraved numbers shimmered slightly under the dim light.

He walked forward, the corridor now eerily silent, and slid the key into the keyhole.

A low click resonated through the space, followed by a slow, grinding creak as the door swung open.

Darkness greeted him.

Stepping inside, Leylin took a moment to scan his new quarters. The room was modest, but everything within it had a strange, oppressive atmosphere.

A single wooden bed rested against the left wall, the sheets prim and proper. A desk stood in the far corner, covered in old parchment, an inkwell, and a single, half-melted candle. The only source of light came from a hanging lantern that flickered as if struggling to stay lit.

Against the right wall stood a tall, iron-bound bookshelf, filled with thick tomes and scattered scrolls. Dust coated most of the books, though some looked as though they had been used recently.

Leylin placed his belongings down and inspected the place in which he was going to live for some years.

The dormitory was a little small and was divided into three partitions, a bedroom, living room and washroom. They were actually self-contained living quarters.

Leylin efficiently changed into the robes and pinned the acolyte badge to his chest.

This look was exactly the same as the grey-robed acolytes he had seen earlier today.

What Leylin did next was to pack his things, and do a cleaning of the room, afterwards he immediately started meditating not wasting any time to meet his neighbours.

He already has a goal in mind—Library.