As Willem walked forward onto the beach, he looked back for a moment and realized the ferryman had gone. Now he was all alone, on a beach that was not made by his mind. It all felt like a distant foreign memory in his head.

Willem made his way to the middle of the sandy beach and began to notice an array had been placed there. It was the same array that he had gotten from the book that had given him larger veins. The sands around the array turned to shards of glass as the heat emanating from the array scorched like hell fire.

Willem put up a defensive barrier between himself and the heat. Though he was quickly learning about fluctuations in magical barriers that offer added protection, he had always practiced offensive attacks more and was not as proficient in defense. Sweat dripped from his brow as he made his way closer to the middle of the array.

When he first entered the array, a small wisp of red floated around him as if it was to protect him from harm. As he reached the middle, the heat had become almost unbearable. His feet stung like they were stabbed by killer blood wasps and when he sat down to meditate it felt as if he laid on a volcano.

He quickly began to meditate on the array, thinking about the veins growing larger and the books he had recently read. Then it dawned on him, the veins growing larger was not a gift meant for him. The books had enhanced his veins in order to prepare the vassal for a demonic entity.

The books described an event where humans were sacrificed in order to bring about a demon strong enough to slay the magical beings who had oppressed them. In the end, even the demonic lord was not strong enough to kill the leader of the magical beings. What was peculiar about the demon however was that he openly admitted he was not the strongest demon from where he came. That meant that the stronger the magical force used for sacrifice, the stronger a demon could be summoned to fight against the demons.

Willem thought about how the books called to him when he first entered the Grand Library, and now he understood why. His explosive growth made him the ideal candidate as a host for a strong demonic body. He continued pouring through the information he could remember from the book. In a small paragraph was written the awful truth, it read: "Those taken over by a demonic host essentially die. Two souls cannot be a part of one body without severe consequences. The power of one is absorbed by the other, and the one that loses is gone forever."

In the beginning he praised finding these amazing books and could not fathom why they were locked away in a restricted section. Now he cursed his bad luck, as there was previously no human described in the books that did not eventually succumb to the demons inside them. The longest human to last was a warlord who survived three days before he gave in.

Willem also knew about his own strength. If his body is a vassal for a demon, that means the demon will be equivalent to his own power once he had reached one hundred percent of his magical force. Willem had just connected to twenty five percent of his magical force not too long ago. Even he did not know what one hundred percent would look like. As his mind raced at all the information he had been thinking of, the area around the array became ice cold.

When Willem opened his eyes, he saw blood and ice pooling in front of him, and a slender figure take form. The figure from the ice and blood came together quickly, and revealed the body of a beautiful woman clad in a black and blue gown. She had a set of horns on the top of her head, her black hair ran down to her waist, and her eyes were a hollowed out black as well. Inside her eyes was a sharp blue colored iris and pronounced blue lips. She looked at the young boy with a domineering sneer, and opened up her mouth as if to devour him, revealing three rows of sharp teeth.

Before she could even move however, tendrils of black came from the body of Willem and forced her into submission on the ground. Though she did her best to struggle and break free, she could not.

Willem surmised that the demon was at best only ten percent of his total strength, which made it seem like she was sent here to test his magical force. Maybe in times past ten percent strength was all that was needed to take over a human body, but for Willem that was not the case. Her strength would be equivalent to a early intermediate stage mage.

Before she could open her mouth, he sent a line of black magic along her lips to cover them up. Whatever she had to say, she could wait for a little while as he did not intend to listen. He thought about it for a moment and determined not to kill her immediately. Though there are adverse affects to having a demonic soul inside him, if she disappears and another stronger one reappears, he might not be strong enough to face them.

Willem bound her head to toe in black string, the same as he did with his magical force. In his mind he created a tomb around the magical array, and the demoness was placed in a burial casket in the middle of it. He then sealed the door of the magical tomb in darkness magic and left the beach with fervor. As he looked back he saw the red wisp waiting for him at the edge of the array, floating all alone.

When he awoke, it was already morning and Kinsey had already prepared breakfast with tea.

Willem showed a visibly pale complexion, and this was the first time Kinsey had seen him unwell. Most mages did not show any symptoms of being sick, as magical force permeated their body including the immune system. This made the immune system strong enough to fight normal illnesses with ease.

Kinsey rushed over to Willem's side as he could not stand up properly. The events of the 'dream' had begun to infect his body and it would not go away so easily. He directed her to take him to the dining table, where they quietly sat and ate breakfast. As he ate, his complexion did not worsen but instead stayed the way it was.

Since Willem's illness was 'magical' in nature, his immune system could not fight it off as a normal illness would be. Instead, Willem took from his spatial spell a magical recovery elixir and drank it along with his tea. It tasted bitter, but the effects were noticeable immediately. His face showed increasing signs of life and his magical power had begun to circulate properly again.

He rose from his chair after eating and said his farewells to Kinsey. She bowed deeply and wished her Master a safe journey. Willem slipped into the darkness and headed toward the Army training grounds first to see if he could find his brothers-in-arms.

At the entrance to the Training Grounds

Eli and Mark had been busy since they became official apprentices at the Army training ground. Eli was still under the tutelage of a knight while learning tactics and maneuvers, and Mark was given the position of squire under Sir Rowan, who had been the officiator for his matches during his apprenticeship training. Sir Rowan achieved the position of knight through hard work and dedication, but deep in his heart he still felt bad for not doing everything he could for the young boy who was like a brother to his squire. Some times he would go into town to see if he could find Willem whom he had taken care of during his injuries, but he never saw a trace of him.

On this particular day, Eli and Mark had been ordered after basic training to go around to all the training dummy's and patch them up for use later by the knights. Though it was menial work, it kept both of them occupied until lunchtime so they did not mind as much. It was also much better than lugging a basket of rocks up and down a mountain everyday for basic training.

As they finished up their patchwork on the training dummy, there was a lot of commotion happening around the entrance. Not ones to miss something big going on, the brothers quickly walked over to see a hooded mage being guided to the guard's office by the Knight Captain himself, Sir Gehrig. In just half a year Sir Gehrig went from being in the top one hundred knights to the Knight Captain himself, a position equal to a Grand Mage. Though their respective strengths were worlds apart, as a knight could do nothing against a Mage.

The brothers watched on hoping to catch a glimpse of the Grand Mage before he walked into the office, but to their surprise the Grand Mage was looking around for someone as well. When the Grand Mage's eyes locked on with theirs, a gleam of red light appeared to them sending a shiver down their spines. The Grand Mage continued walking and the brothers put their heads down. The two brothers had fought magical beasts before and they never felt fear like they did looking at the Grand Mage.

The Knight Captain lead the esteemed guest into the guard's quarters and had an attendant get them some tea.

Before the Knight Captain could speak, he was interrupted by a brash young man in full platemail who had swung the doors open and bellowed out. "I could really go for some mead right now! Hahahaha!"

The Knight Captain gave his squire a death stare, and finally the boy realized that he was in the presence of a Mage. He did not often get to see Mages in the training ground, leading him to believe they were not all that strong. Especially since he himself had speed augmenting magic, he decided not to give any face to the Mage in the guard's quarters.

"Hey Master, how come all Mages hide their faces? Are they that ashamed to be known for casting magic?" He scoffed at the Mage, and before the Knight Captain could shut the boy up, Willem waved him off not to interrupt.

"Well at least there is one Mage who knows his place. When I talk you listen, that is how it should be. In the upcoming war, I will be with my Master Sir Gehrig leading the fight against the magical beings while you cower in the back lines praying to dead gods."

At this point, Sir Gehrig's face had turned purple from anger. He had seen the seal that was given directly by the King and dared not protest anything this Grand Mage would say. If the Grand Mage asked him to chop off his fingers he would do so without hesitation, that is how much the seal of the King means to the Army.

Now his squire was bad mouthing not just this Grand Mage but all mages in general and he could do nothing to stop the boy. If he could, he would have reached over and chopped the boys tongue off himself for saying such blasphemous things. Sir Gehrig lamented how he had spoiled the boy because of his gift in fighting. If he had taken the time to teach the boy some proper manners he would not be in the position he's in now.

The young boy took everyone's silence as an answer to continue and begun bad mouthing the Grand Mage again. "If it was not for us fighters, you mages would not even be alive right now. You should count your blessings that we even put up with you lot. Yet here you stand, treading where you do not belong, smelling of your mother's tit."

Just as he was going to continue ranting, he found that he could not speak a word.

"Knight Captain, does this boy speak on behalf of the Army?" From within the dark robes resounded a threat no one dared answer.