Somewhere in the Dark Mountains of southern Cecil, a glow suddenly lit up inside an ancient Mage Tower.
The not-quite-bright magical radiance slightly dispelled the gloom within the Mage Tower, bathing ancient books, scrolls, and shelves laden with Spellcasting Materials—things that seemed buried in history—in an illusory sheen. Then, amid the shifting light and shadow, a figure suddenly appeared.
He wore the somber robes favored only by classical mages. His graying hair hung in a wildly disheveled mess behind his head, while exhaustion and haggardness covered his face as though he had not rested in years. Holding a faintly glowing crystal ball, he emerged from a dark corner and slowly paced between old books and wooden shelves, his gaze passing over Monster blood sealed in Crystal Vials and magical herbs.
Suddenly, the haggard old mage stopped before a shelf. His eyes fixed tightly upon a pale violet crystal resting there. Though it was clearly not connected to any spell array, it was releasing a steady blue-violet glow, while mysterious runes continuously surfaced across it, as if conveying hidden knowledge and truths.
The old mage's astonishment gradually transformed into fervor and joy. He stared fixedly at the crystal undergoing its strange transformation, his lips trembling a few times before he finally broke the silence in the Mage Tower with a low voice. "Goddess of Magic... Your radiance has finally guided my path! It worked... the crystal has charged itself... In the name of knowledge and truth, may Your glory endure forever!"
As the old mage recited those uncontrollable words, a faint breeze and a low hum seemed to sweep through the ancient Mage Tower. The light and shadows swaying in the magical glow around him seemed to stretch and sharpen at once. The old mage himself became a white-glowing silhouette in