Four Split Personalities

Shadow Mage, a rare discipline within the ranks of the Mage profession, had exceedingly few practitioners, and its origins could be traced back thousands of years. To this day, the total number of existing Shadow Mages on the Innocent Continent didn’t even surpass ten thousand. Of those, the Mages officially registered in the Mage Guild accounted for ninety-nine percent, and the strongest among them had only just stepped into the high-level mage stage, not even coming close to the threshold of a Great Mage.

Piers Sclinger was one such unregistered Shadow Mage, and a bona fide Great Mage at that.

There were no complicated inheritances or restrictions; the methods for practicing as a Shadow Mage had never been a mystery. Whether it was related spells or corresponding knowledge, the libraries of every Mage Guild were stocked with exhaustive information. Yet, almost no one could walk this path very far, and those who hit a wall frequently included individuals with exceptional talents. Thus, over time, very few would choose to major in this demanding and thankless line.

But Sclinger was different. Although he initially began self-study for the somewhat juvenile reason of ’playing with shadows is cool,’ after getting stuck at the middle-rank Shadow Mage level for seven years and watching those less talented than himself advance to higher levels, his mindset gradually underwent some less than optimistic changes. These changes evolved into indignation and rage after a series of disheartening trivial matters... and, just like the majority of those suffering from second-year syndrome, he didn’t believe the problem lay with himself or the profession of Shadow Mage itself. Instead, he firmly insisted it was the world’s fault.

So, in a manner akin to many a clichéd storyline, the unrecognized and increasingly cynical Sclinger left the Mage Guild. He continued to delve into shadow magic on his own while traveling across the Innocent Continent, sure that his abilities as a middle-rank mage would at least keep him from starving.

Later on, after enduring numerous frustrating and heart-wrenching events and ascending to the high-level mage rank, his beliefs grew even more radical. A certain woman who died in his arms played a decisive role in this process.

Then came a standstill; five years passed, and Sclinger, who had tirelessly honed his skills, saw no progress. Although he could be considered comfortable in terms of basic necessities, this wasn’t what he wanted...

Later, through a stroke of serendipity, Sclinger met an Executive of a viper organization and, tempted by the promise of rapidly increasing his power, he joined without a second thought.

A few years later, after numerous open conflicts and covert struggles, playing the fool to catch the wise, engaging in deceitful schemes, bribery, and silencing those in his way, Sclinger successfully rose to become a second-tier officer. Utilizing the organization’s ample resources, he forcefully elevated himself from a high-level mage to the level of a Magician. Then, remarkably smooth sailing, he faced no bottlenecks and ascended to a Great Mage at forty, also rising to the position of a first-tier Executive.

Long gone was the boy who thought ’playing with shadows was cool’; the current Piers Sclinger had become an unadulterated villain and a very powerful one at that.

Now able to freely control all things with the ’shadow’ trait within two hundred meters, he could, with a mere thought, kill everyone present except himself. High-Level Monk Sergei, Rex Hawke Wood, who was about to wet his pants, the dragon-transformed Motan, the awakened Jadka, the rampaging Anthony Dabus, none would be spared.

If the gap between Motan and others like Sergei was from 250 to 1000, then Sclinger, who was two tiers above Sergei, must possess at least a strength of one hundred thousand in combat.

And now, the impatient first-tier Executive finally took personal action.

"You all show great promise... hmm, and there’s also a senior who seems to have finally broken through a bottleneck. Please, accept my respects. I too went through a long period of stagnation. Under different circumstances, I’m sure we could have gotten along splendidly."

Sclinger gave a Mage’s salute to the somber Jadka, then gently shook the pitch-black, lightless lantern in his hand and shook his head, "However, it’s a pity. You’ll all have to leave your lives here. I’m not like the failure beside me. I don’t think sending you to the Black Workshop or that nauseating ’organization’ makes much sense. After all, if one of you were to survive by chance in the Black Workshop, or even be absorbed into the organization, I, as one of the instigators, would find myself in an awkward position. And that beautiful Half-beast lady, if she were to be sold to a strong individual at a high price or taken as a concubine by some noble, and she speaks ill of me, it could lead to some unwelcome consequences."

"So I should thank you, then?"

Ji Xiaoge sneered at Sclinger, "For sparing us from insult and torment?"

The man gently tapped the mask on his face, speaking leisurely, "You could say that because truly, those two places can make one wish for death over life. So, I personally think it’s time to end this idle chatter..."

"Hold on!"

Jadka, nearly bound into a dumpling by those claws of shadow, suddenly shouted, gritting his teeth, "Do you know where you are?"