Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1502: The Birth of a Rivalry

Ibarin had not always been a Grand Magus. In fact, the very concept of the Grand Magus hadn’t even existed back when he and Raze had stood side by side.

Back then, they were simply colleagues, two ambitious mages working within the academy, shaping students, pushing research, and building reputations. To Raze, it had been an honest partnership. He believed they were coworkers, perhaps even friends. But in Ibarin’s heart, the truth had always been different. He had never seen Raze as an ally. He had seen him as a rival.

That truth revealed itself most clearly when the position of principal opened at the academy. Raze had been the favorite. Everyone knew it. His record was clean, his research pioneering, his teaching admired. Even without a natural affinity that dazzled, his ability to innovate and work relentlessly had earned him respect.

Nearly every colleague who was asked the question had answered the same way: Raze Cromwell would make the better principal.

And that thought lodged itself in Ibarin’s mind like a thorn he could never remove.

From the moment Raze arrived, a man from the lands below, a man who should have been an outsider, Ibarin’s insecurities festered. If someone from below could rise so high, could outshine him so easily, then what did that mean for his own place in the world? What did it mean for his future?

Even after achieving the lofty position of Grand Magus, even after building power and influence, the shadow remained. No matter how many steps he climbed, the voice whispered at the back of his mind: They wanted Raze, not you.

What he never realized, blinded by envy and fear, was that Raze Cromwell was unique. His genius was not in flashy spells or innate talent. It was in persistence, in the hunger to learn, in the way his mind dissected mysteries that others accepted as unsolvable. He didn’t have to be gifted; his hard work itself was his gift.

Ibarin had never needed to worry, because there would never be another Raze Cromwell. Not in Alterian. Not in the world.

And yet, all his life, Ibarin had lived beneath that shadow. He thought he had finally cast it away when the Dark Magus, the man Raze had become, was destroyed. He had been there. He had seen it with his own eyes, the rooftop where Raze’s head was blown apart. To Ibarin, that was the day he was free.

So what was this figure standing before him now, calling himself Raze, claiming the impossible?

"You had me for a second," Ibarin sneered, though his voice trembled with unease. "Do you think we, the Grand Magus, feared the Dark Magus? At any point we could have dealt with him. That name, that title, it means nothing."

"I can see why you would say that, Ibarin," Raze replied calmly, using his name with an intimacy that cut deeper than any spell. "But you should already know the truth. Do you think I am just some boy borrowing a name? Look at me. Listen. Right now, I stand in this young body... but did you truly believe, on that rooftop, that I had no plan?"

Raze’s eyes narrowed. His words fell like stones into Ibarin’s chest.

"You didn’t kill the Dark Magus. I killed myself. And when I did, I left you a gift."

The color drained from Ibarin’s face. His smile faltered, vanishing completely.

How could anyone know that? That rooftop was burned to ash. Idore himself had ensured the evidence was wiped away. Only five people had ever known the details of that night, the five Grand Magus, and the Dark Magus himself. No one else could possibly speak of it.

And yet Raze did.

"How do you think the world would react," Raze continued, his voice rising like a storm, "if they knew the truth? That you, you, Ibarin, were the one who created the Dark Magus in the first place?"

"What nonsense are you, " Ibarin snapped, his arm lashing out instinctively as if to swat the words away. "You’re just spitting false accusations!"

"False?" Raze’s tone sharpened into steel. His voice cracked like thunder as he shouted, "You set me up!"

The words slammed into Ibarin harder than any spell.

"You were working with Gizin, selling those cursed substances to the students. You framed me for your crimes, dragged my name through the courts, declared me guilty while you smiled in the shadows!"

Raze’s voice shook, but not with weakness. With rage. With memory.

"I lost everything that day. My job. My reputation. My life. And Sabrina... Sabrina was left to bear the weight. All she ever wanted was to help me, to protect me, to find the truth. But she paid the price, didn’t she? She died because of what you and your fellow Grand Magus covered up."

Raze’s eyes burned as he took a step forward, his presence crushing down on Ibarin.

"The day Sabrina died," he whispered, his voice breaking with venom, "was the day I swore to destroy all of you."

Silence.

Ibarin’s lips trembled. His face twisted. His body betrayed him with small shakes of panic. Every detail, every word Raze spoke was true. Things only the Dark Magus himself could have known. For years, he had buried the suspicion, told himself Raze Cromwell was truly dead. But deep down, he had feared this moment, and now it stood in front of him.

"Hah... hahahah!" Ibarin’s laughter rang out, sharp and brittle, like glass about to shatter. His eyes gleamed with hysteria. "And what makes you think anything has changed? You couldn’t defeat us then, and you can’t defeat me now! So you’re in a new body, so what? Your magic is weaker than ever, Raze. The same thing will happen again!"

"No," Raze said softly, his voice cutting through the madness like a blade. "Not this time."

His eyes locked on Ibarin’s, unflinching, unshaken.

"Tell me something, Ibarin. Where is Enaxx?"

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