Chapter 36: Ghost Town
Lorraine had always wondered... what exactly was power?
From a young age, she had been drilled endlessly by her mother and several tutors on the arts of magic.
They had called her a genius.
She still remembered standing in those cold marble halls, reciting incantations while a circle of robed elders nodded approvingly, whispering amongst themselves about her future potential as a mage that could even reach the 8 circle.
A mage was someone who could draw upon the mana that naturally permeated the air, refining it into spells.
To most, it was mystical.
To Lorraine, it had been as natural as breathing.
The principle was simple: more mana meant a stronger spell.
Even the most basic of attack spells could be amplified into something devastating if enough mana was poured into it.
But that came with its own price.
If one’s control slipped, if you fed too much mana into a spell whose framework couldn’t handle it, it wouldn’t merely fizzle out — it would implode violently, tearing through the caster’s body from within.
This was why magic was feared, even among those who practiced it.