Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Darkfang Docks.

The Magi of Ravenfell, led by Nylian Feno, Brigham Flynn, and Daniel Ranzenberg, alighted from their ships and started wreaking havoc.

Thanks to the Rank 3 combined spell from earlier, the vast majority of Blackshore's Magi were in a stunned state.

Although the mana shield had protected them from becoming directly struck by the lightning, they still had to endure the aftereffects.

Due to that several Rank 1 Magi lost their lives in an instant as the Magi from Ravenfell struck them down. The Rank 2 Magi were still able to fare better than the others.

As brutal melee ensued between the Magi of Ravenfell and Blackshore, the Rank 3 Magi from each side stood in the middle of the urban battlefield silently facing each other.

Baranabas Booth, Wendell Cross, and Kissinger of the Umbra Thieves.

Nylia Feno, Daniel Ranzenberg, and Brigham Flynn of Ravenfell.

The six Magi stood before each other, gazing into each other's eyes with blatant hostility.

Brigham Flynn looked at Kissinger, whom he hadn't seen in centuries, and revealed a cold smile, "It has been a while, old friend."

Kissinger's eyes narrowed, almost spewing venom. "Look at you, Brigham. A mighty noble lord of Ravenfell, eh? Tell me, do you still think about how you betrayed me all those years ago and left me for dead?"

As he spoke his last words, he traced the scar running diagonally across his face with his fingers. "So, this is what a righteous Magus truly stands for, eh?"

He then looked at Daniel and Nylian, his lips forming a taunting smirk, "Beware, you two. Brigham, here, might backstab you if it benefits him. After all, that's exactly what he did to me."

Brigham Flynn's expression darkened instantly. And when he noticed Nylian and Daniel casting side glances at him, he involuntarily clenched his fists.

"Don't listen to him," he said, "he's trying to sow discord between us."

Barnabas Booth, the one-eyed Magus suddenly chimed in, "Ah, Kissinger, so this is the man you told us about? The one who was like a brother to you? But in the end, he tried to kill you just to get his hands on some magical artifact. This is the one, yes?"

Wendell Cross nodded. "That is correct." He then cast a contemptuous gaze at Brigham and mocked, "As expected of these two-faced righteous Magi. Something tells me he would even sell his daughter for his benefit."

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Brigham Flynn's eyes blazed with fury and he roared.

He was about to rush towards this old man who had dared to speak ill of his daughter, but at the last moment, he was stopped by Daniel Ranzenberg.

The stoic old man gazed at him with narrowed eyes and muttered, "Brigham, we are outnumbered. Do not be a hindrance."

Brigham slowly calmed himself down. He harrumphed in displeasure. Meanwhile, Nylian scanned the surrounding battlefield.

The Magi of Ravenfell were already outnumbered, to begin with. Now, more Magi were pouring in from the streets of Blackshore, putting up a fight against them.

"The Cult of Bones," he coldly muttered under his breath.

He then took a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Come out, Mana Vortex Magi of the Cult!"

A brief moment of silence ensued on the urban battlefield before the Magi on both sides resumed fighting against one another.

Blades and spells clashed against each other, resulting in blood flowing in streams and corpses being strewn across the streets.

Yet, the battle waged on.

The only advantage that Ravenfell had was that all two hundred of its armed forces consisted of seasoned Rank 2 Mana Liquefaction Magi—the members of the Black Legion included.

Whereas, the forces of Blackshore consisted of a ragtag bunch of Rank 1 and 2 Magi. However, with the support of the Magi from the Cult of Bones, the scales were slowly tipping in their favor.

Amidst the sound of battle cries and explosions, three dark-robed figures with imposing auras suddenly appeared on the roof of a building several tens of meters behind the three leaders of the Umbra Thieves.

The one standing in the middle, a pale-skinned man with emerald eyes, gazed at the elven councilor of Ravenfell and smiled, "Nylian Feno, the prodigy of Saratoga. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Nylian's eyes narrowed and he coldly stated, "Identify yourself, Magus."

The emerald-eyed man pressed his hand against this chest and gave a light bow. "Malcolm Morgan, a proud Magus of the Cult of Bones."

His gaze shifted from Nylian to the two other old men from Ravenfell. He then spoke in a polite and very convincing manner, "Eseteemed Councilors of Ravenfell, look around you.

"You are severely outnumbered. There is no way out for you. Death… is the only outcome if you choose to put up a fight."

He paused for a moment before adding, his voice loud enough for everyone on the battlefield to hear, "That is why I am giving you all a chance to lay down your weapons and surrender.

"I am giving you my word that if you surrender, no harm will come to you. Think about your families waiting for you back at home. You have the power to choose whether you return to them alive… or as corpses."

Several Magi from the forces of Ravenfell hesitated. They glanced at their comrades standing beside them and could see the uncertainty in each other's eyes.

However, it was only for a moment.

They soon resolved themselves and continued to fight their enemies with everything they had.

They were proud Magi! They were proud warriors! They would not surrender!

Each of the councilors had varied expressions when they witnessed the Rank 3 Magi from the cult make themselves known.

Brigham Flynn, for one, was shocked that there were actually three more Mana Vortex Magi in Blackshore.

For a brief moment, nervousness flashed in his eyes and he feared that there was a possibility that he might not leave this battlefield today.

Nylian Feno, on the other hand, had an indifferent expression on his face as he gazed at the new enemies. However, his eyes were cold and solemn.

Lastly, Daniel Ranzenber, surprisingly, showed the most emotions of out everyone in the group. His expression had darkened and his eyes spewed fiery venom.

Malcolm Morgan coldly gazed at the three councilors as well as the rest of the Magi of Ravenfell. His lips parted and he sneered, "So you have chosen death."

His lips then curled up into a cruel smirk. "All the better for us!"

In the following moment, all three Rank 3 Magi from the cult, standing atop the rooftops, simultaneously weaved a series of hand seals.

They pooled their mana and combined the spells.

Rank 3 Spell: Summon Undead!