Dark Magus Returns

A figure stood at the shrine entrance.

From the outer silhouette, it was clearly a man, tall, lean, and very much human. But that only made things more unnerving. All of the students and teachers were present, and this stranger didn’t belong.

What struck them most wasn’t just his sudden appearance.

It was the robe.

Black, heavy, and soaked with enchantment. The hood shimmered unnaturally, cloaking the man’s face in a distortion spell that blurred all identity. No one could see who he was, only that he was watching them.

“Um… Teachers? What should we do?” Yolden asked, voice trembling slightly.

After everything they’d just gone through with the beasts, even a single unexpected moment felt like it could tip them back into chaos.

“Wait… that robe, the enchantment, ” a student stammered. “Could that guy be with them?”

“The Dark Guild,” another student whispered.

That name alone was enough to send a visible shudder through the group, like a silent wave crashing through their ranks. Even the teachers stiffened.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

The Dark Guild rarely made direct moves. They worked from the shadows, pulling strings and spreading fear without ever stepping into the light. But what reason would they have to appear here, in this dungeon? To gather crystals, maybe, like any other guild. But to approach students?

Did they even need a reason?

For those who practiced dark magic, power came easiest through death. And now, a crowd of vulnerable mages stood directly in their path.

“State who you are and why you’re here!” Luka demanded, stepping forward. The other two teachers flanked him, forming a protective wall in front of the students. But none of them advanced. They held their ground, uncertain.

The figure finally moved. His hand rose slowly.

“Who I am?” the man said. His voice was distorted with magic, unnatural and hollow. “I think you’re mistaken.”

Lightning suddenly spiraled around his raised arm, crackling wildly with power. In the next instant, a vortex of electrified energy burst from his palm, shooting straight toward the teachers.

Panla was the first to react. A lightning specialist herself, she jumped in front of the attack, drawing electric energy to her arms, attempting to divert the strike downward.

But the moment her power clashed with the incoming surge, she realized something terrifying, this wasn’t ordinary lightning.

The force overwhelmed her.

The bolt struck Panla directly, spinning her through the air before her body crashed to the ground. Before anyone could react, another bolt was hurled, piercing clean through her arm, leaving her writhing in pain.

“PANLA!” Redrick shouted, flames already gathering at his fingertips.

But before he could strike, a flicker of movement caught his eye.

Another robed figure.

Then another. And another.

They emerged from all sides, rooftops, shadows, behind stone pillars. A dozen of them, maybe more, slowly surrounded the group. Their faces remained hidden beneath enchanted hoods, but their intent was obvious.

They weren’t here by accident.

They had come for them.

Just like with the beasts, they were surrounded. But this time, there was one key difference.

“Their magic…” Panla wheezed, pushing herself up slightly. “It’s stronger than ours.”

Redrick launched a massive fireball toward one of the approaching figures, only for a second mage to counter with a wave of water. The collision created a blast of steam that blanketed the area, thick and suffocating.

Cries echoed through the mist. Screams, brief and sharp.

When the fog began to clear, the scene was grim.

Redrick’s entire arm had been scorched. The sleeve was gone, and the skin beneath was blistered and blackened. He clutched it tightly, barely able to stand.

Luka was on his knees, blood trickling from his lips, his robes stained with crimson.

“Safa,” Diana whispered urgently, “don’t heal them yet. Don’t make a move.”

Safa hesitated, her hands hovering just inches above the ground.

“These mages… they’re not holding back,” Diana continued. “But the way they’re attacking, it’s like they want something from us. If they meant to wipe us out, they could have. They’re after something more.”

Then came a cold, commanding voice.

“All of you, kneel. Place both hands behind your heads. Now.”

The first robed man stepped forward again, unbothered by the carnage.

“If anyone doesn’t comply, they’ll end up like your teachers. Simple.”

“Everyone,” Luka groaned, “listen to what they say. Do it.”

It was painful. The students had just witnessed their teachers defeated in moments. These were the same teachers who’d led them through near-death situations. But fighting against beasts was one thing. Mages, especially ones this powerful, were something else entirely.

The students slowly dropped to their knees, placing their hands behind their heads as ordered. Around them, the robed figures stood at the ready, hands still glowing with dangerous power, ready to strike again if needed.

“You asked who we were earlier,” the lead figure said. “We are the Dark Guild.”

Some students gasped. Others whimpered.

Laughter came from several of the robed mages, mocking, cold, and cruel. But none of them told the students to calm down. If anything, they seemed to relish the fear.

“I see many of you have heard of us,” the figure continued. “Good. That saves time. I’m sure you’re all aware that we don’t need a reason to be here. But… there might be a chance that some of you survive. That depends entirely on how cooperative you are.”

Students gritted their teeth, biting down curses. The mood had shifted into something far darker.

“Damn it… of all the people we could have run into, why them?” Chiba muttered under his breath. “We’re finished…”

But not everyone had lost hope.

As fear gripped the group, Yolden’s mind flickered to a memory, one of Raze. A lesson from long ago, when Raze had asked them to think about the world’s perception of people like those in the Dark Guild. What made someone feared? What made someone truly dangerous?

Now, that memory seemed to shine through the panic.

Raze turned toward Londo, who gave a slight shake of his head. He didn’t know what was happening either. Still, Londo shifted his gaze to one of the nearest mages.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t beg.

Instead, he whispered something only Raze could truly understand.

“Fear the Unseen,” Londo said.

“What?” the nearby robed mage snapped. “Did we give you permission to speak?”

*****

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