Sovereign of the Ashes

As the Clash of Civilizations raged on, major divine towers and knightly orders threw their full strength into the frontlines. The demand for low-ranking knights and mages only continued to grow.

Mages, by nature, valued the pursuit of truth above all else. War and destruction were never what these erudite spellcasters sought.

Yet with the reality of the Clash of Civilizations pressing down on them, even the wisest minds of Magus World and mid-tier divine tower masters like Sein understood the importance of nurturing new talent for the future.

The introduction of special courses like the Fundamentals of Interplanar Warfare was meant to train a new generation of mages specifically suited for battles.

Sein knew this approach was somewhat selfish. It limited a mage’s endless potential, pushing them toward utilitarian warfare.

Unfortunately, he and the other leaders of Magus World had no choice but to do so.

Survival came before everything else.

Only with enough war potential and reserve strength could the Magus Civilization face the Clash of Civilizations with confidence.

At this stage, only full-fledged mages could join the Clash of Civilizations through major divine towers and knightly orders.

But who could guarantee that in the future, even the initiates would not be sent to the battlefield?

It was always wise to prepare for the worst.

To Sein, educating the young initiates about the cruelty and dangers of interplanar war early on was not necessarily a bad thing.

His goal in creating these courses was to make the initiates understand the harsh reality of war, hoping to drive them to study harder and delve deeper into the profound mysteries of magic.

But once those courses were introduced at the divine tower academy, things did not go quite as he had expected.

Most initiates seemed completely unfazed by the dangers of war. Instead, they were fired up, eager to join the fight!

In a fiercely competitive place like the Divine Tower of Ashes, they quickly came to understand just how important wealth was.

And in the Clash of Civilizations, nothing brought greater rewards than wealth itself!

Almost every divine tower mage who returned from battle saw their fortune double or triple in just a few decades!

Some even multiplied their wealth tenfold or a hundredfold.

Fortuitous ones and exceptional prodigies were never in short supply during the interplanar wars.

Ding-dong!

The bell rang once more, its clear chime echoing throughout the academy.

Farke snapped his textbook shut the moment the bell chimed.

Most mages were meticulous about time management. At the Divine Tower of Ashes Academy, ending class early or running overtime was practically unheard of.

Once a lecture ended, the instructors would not waste even a sandglass’ worth of time, unless it was for their apprentices.

In public lectures like this, they were simply fulfilling their teaching duties.

But today, something a little out of the ordinary happened after class.

A blond initiate gathered his courage and approached Farke. “Master, may I join the war?” he asked.

The boy looked barely into his teens, clearly still a junior initiate who had only been at the divine tower academy for a few years.

Yet he was one of the most diligent students in Farke’s lectures, somehow managing to snag a front-row seat in every class.

Farke also noticed the initiate’s robe, its fabric worn thin and faded from countless washes. He was likely from humble origins.

Having once been an ordinary initiate himself, Farke understood those struggles all too well.

Still, faced with the boy’s naive question, Farke could not help but let out a dry laugh.

His mind flashed back to the brutal battles of Radbow World. He shook his head firmly and replied, “No.”

His curt answer drew snickers from several nearby initiates, who looked at the boy with open amusement.

Many of them were already advanced initiates, and even they did not yet qualify for deployment to an interplanar battlefield. What made this junior think he was any different?

As Farke’s rejection sank in amid the laughter around him, the boy’s face flushed crimson.

But instead of backing down, he clenched his fists, muttered an incantation.

Whoosh!

A small orange-yellow fireball flickered to life before him.

“But look, Master Farke! I can already cast a Minor Fireball! Two months ago, I even went on a mission with the senior initiates to the enchanted forest west of the towers—and I wounded a magic beast!” the boy blurted, eager to prove himself.

For someone still at the junior initiate level, that was actually quite an accomplishment.

But Farke only glanced at him briefly. The small fireball hovering before the boy flickered once, then went out with a hiss.

The boy’s face went pale as the elemental backlash hit him. Cold sweat broke across his forehead, and he clutched his temples as a wave of pain rippled through his body.

Farke had not even done much to him. Had he been serious, the boy would have ended up as a human torch instead of just suffering a mild backlash.

Looking at the trembling initiate and the group of students gathered around to watch, Farke sighed softly.

He looked at the crowd, then said, “The elemental power you guys can wield at your level is still far too weak.”

“You may have enough strength to injure a low-level magic beast inside Magus World, but how much of that power do you think will remain once you venture beyond our homeplane?”

He let the question hang for a moment, then continued, “Those of you who’ve studied Planeology or Astronomy should know that there’s no air in the Astral Realm. Do you think you can still conjure that Minor Fireball you just cast there?”

“Only a full-fledged mage can shape elemental energy into spells like that in the Astral Realm and endure the harsh conditions of other planes! So study hard and reach that level. Only then will you be able to serve your divine tower and truly earn the right to explore the world’s deeper mysteries.”

Farke’s tone was calm but firm, carrying the weight of experience.

The initiates who had been snickering moments ago now fell silent, their expressions turning thoughtful.

Farke gave one last glance to the boy, who was still on the ground.

“This,” he said, pulling a thumb-sized, pale yellow pebble from his robe, “is a Radiation Stone I brought back from the Radbow World battlefield. Its radiation measures around twenty degrees. Most junior and intermediate initiates wouldn’t last long near it.”

He tossed it toward the boy. “Take it. Maybe you’ll learn something from it.”

The stone landed in the boy’s hand, and the radiation it emitted made several nearby initiates instinctively step back.

But the boy gripped it tightly, all while enduring the elemental backlash. Even as the pain in his arm worsened from the stone’s radiation, he refused to let go.

Farke, who had already turned to leave, caught the boy’s stubborn expression out of the corner of his eye.