SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar



Fairy King Oberon's eyes narrowed as he watched the chaotic dance of battle from his vantage point.

The Giants' earth-shaking advance clashed with the disciplined maneuvering of the Mecha Knights, while the rest of his Fairies were engaged on multiple fronts against Elves, Beastfolk, and Dwarves.

The very essence of the Luminis Forest vibrated with the intensity of the conflict, its innate magic responding to Oberon's will to protect.

Beside him, Ursula, the fairy-shaped automaton, observed the fray with an unblinking analytical gaze.

Oberon's voice was tense as he turned to her. "Ursula, I need an assessment. How do we fare?"

Ursula's eyes glowed momentarily as she processed the real-time data from the battlefield.

"Your Majesty, thus far, we have not had a single casualty. Many Fairies have sustained injuries, and numerous Mecha Knights are in need of repair. Our defensive lines are holding, but our manpower is stretched thin compared to the overwhelming numbers of the Triumvirate's forces."

Oberon's jaw clenched at the news, a flicker of relief quickly overshadowed by concern. "And the long-term prospects?"

Ursula hesitated for a fraction of a second, a hint of emotion in her mechanical voice. "While our current strategies will eventually lead us to victory, it is my estimation that sacrifices will be made. I anticipate at least a few hundred Fairies will fall before the battle is won."

A sharp intake of breath was Oberon's immediate response, his heart aching at the prospect. Hundreds of his people, each one cherished, each one irreplaceable.

His hands gripped the balcony railing, knuckles whitening.

He turned his gaze back to the battlefield, wishing he could do more. But he knew his limits.

The very environment of the Luminis Forest had been shaped and controlled by his magic, providing vital support and defense to his forces while healing those in need.

It had drained a significant portion of his energy, leaving him unable to intervene further.

The battle raged on, the Fairies' brilliant wings dancing amidst the flashes of swords and the roars of Beastfolk. Oberon could see the Mecha Knights battling the Giants, their elegant mechanical movements contrasted with the brute force of their adversaries.

As he watched, one of the Mecha Knights took a devastating blow from a Giant's club, staggering and nearly falling. Oberon's heart pounded in his chest as he willed the Mecha Knight to recover, to continue the fight.

It did, rejoining the battle with renewed vigor, but the near miss was a stark reminder of how precarious their situation was.

"Prepare our reserves," Oberon ordered, his voice firm. "I want all available resources dedicated to repairs and healing. We will endure this, Ursula. We must."

Ursula bowed slightly, her mechanical voice resonating with a sense of determination. "We will, Your Majesty. The Fairy Kingdom will prevail."

Oberon's gaze remained fixed on the battle, his mind racing with strategies and concerns. His people were fighting with courage and resilience, but the cost weighed heavily on him.

He knew that victory was within reach, but the path to it was fraught with danger and potential loss.

He gritted his teeth, vowing that he would do everything in his power to minimize the sacrifices. The Fairy Kingdom would stand strong, and he would lead them through this storm, no matter what it took.

"I could really use the assistance, though. Where the hell are you, Lewis?"

As if some force in the world heard his words, Oberon's senses picked something strange going on… an interference that instantly caught his gaze.

'T-this is—!'

Fairy King Oberon's eyes widened as a sudden bright light erupted on the battlefield, momentarily illuminating the clash of arms and magic like a flare in the night.

His breath caught as three figures emerged from the brilliance, their very presence compelling both sides to halt their conflict.

He recognized them instantly: the Great Sage Larry Damien, Greatest Magic Swordsman Aria, and Heretic Doctor Drake.

Legends in their own right, their sudden appearance was like a shockwave, leaving both the Fairy Kingdom's defenders and the Triumvirate's aggressors in stunned silence.

Larry Damien, his wise eyes gleaming with an inner light, stepped forward.

His staff was adorned with mystic runes, and his robes billowed as if touched by an unseen wind. His voice carried across the battlefield, imbued with an authority that commanded attention.

"People of the Fairy Kingdom, warriors of the Triumvirate, hear me! We come here for one reason and one reason alone: to end this war once and for all."

Oberon's heart pounded at the proclamation.

The battlefield was eerily silent, every eye fixed on Larry and his companions. Aria, her hand resting on the hilt of her legendary sword, stood tall and resolute. Drake, his face a grim mask of silence, exuded an air of mystery and power.

'They're the ones the Triumvirate is after, right? It seems Lewis finally brought them back, after all.'

Oberon could feel the tension in the air, a palpable force that seemed to grip everyone present. He knew that Larry's words were more than mere rhetoric.

The Great Sage's wisdom was renowned, and if he deemed this conflict a threat to the world's balance, it was no idle claim.

'But… can only three people turn the tide of this battle?' Oberon question as he squinted his gaze on the battlefield

"You dare defy the Triumvirate?" the General spat, his anger barely contained.

Aria stepped forward, her voice calm yet firm. "Silence, Azel. It seems your leaders do not wish to show themselves in the war they initiated. How utterly disgraceful."

Drake's voice, quiet and measured, added to the chorus. "You'd expect those three to at least appear in the war. As expected of cowards who are used to ruling in the shadows.

"Y-you… how dare you!" The General, whose name was Azel growled.

He and his two closest commanders—each from the Beastfolk and Dwarf Race respectively—closed in on the three in no time.

Oberon's mind raced as he watched the exchange in both silence and anticipation. There was no way these three could stop an entire war themselves, was there?

'What in the world are you thinking, Lewis?'

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[A/N]

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