Chapter 1050: Act 221 – Summoning of the Traveling Mage
Mephistopheles had yet to determine the victor against Ruyer; as he sheathed his sword, Ruyer’s expression momentarily froze before he saw the former stepping back, his form gradually fading into the gray realm.
“Mm?” Ruyer’s gray-and-white brows slightly raised as he lowered his right hand, causing the spell he was conjuring to vanish into thin air. There were many rumors about Mephistopheles within the Empire, some absurd, but none suggested that he was cowardly in battle. Although Ruyer was not familiar with him, he could tell that Mephistopheles was not afraid of him. He instinctively swept his gaze towards the forest.
Within the forest, Brendel and Charles exchanged glances. The Queen was beginning to suspect them, and it was only a matter of time before she uncovered their glaring lies. Both made the same decision at the same time and turned to flee.
As they turned to escape, Medephis hurried after Brendel, while Andrigraphis hesitated briefly before choosing another direction on her own.
The Queen was momentarily stunned before reacting. “Catch them!” she shouted angrily.
A terrifying power swept through the air, unleashed by the Witch Queen. She extended a finger, a silver light emanating from the tip, expanding in an instant to encompass a radius of several miles, cascading like a tangible wave that swiftly engulfed the entire forest, catching up with Brendel, who was fleeing.
Brendel felt the temperature plummet, a chilling wind whipping past him, and he could hear the howls of ice wolves pursuing him from behind. Instinctively, he brushed a hand across his face and found it wet—covered in snow and ice.
A thick blanket of frost crept toward him from the ground, covering the piled dead leaves, moss, and rocks, while countless trees stood with withered leaves falling, crystallizing before they could touch the ground. The branches were laden with icicles, rustling as the northern wind blew through.
As Brendel landed on a patch of rock, he felt a heavy weight at his feet. Alarmed, he lifted his foot but found it unable to move, as the white frost seemed to come alive, creeping up his boot and quickly forming a thick layer of ice.
This was the power of the North Wind, an element of the Witch Queen, which was one of the most important legacies of witches derived from the Witch Mother. Although a lesser version, it did not diminish its exhibited power in front of Brendel.
In just a breath, he could no longer feel the foot that was freezing, and terror filled him; the Witch Queen’s strength was already at the peak of its realm. Yet what was most frightening was the North Wind element. Truly, it was one of the top elemental powers from the age of the Holy War, even if it was a lesser sort, it was by no means inferior to the elements of the world bosses he had encountered before.
“This won’t do,” Brendel thought to himself, for the power of the North Wind was too overwhelming. If it continued, he estimated that in a few seconds, he would be completely encased in ice. Gritting his teeth to regain some clarity, he focused on a clearing several hundred feet away in the forest, preparing to use the space element to teleport himself there.
Golden lines of law flashed before his eyes as he worked to find the correct order of laws, but suddenly, a vast force descended from above, overwhelming him, catching him off guard. His spatial teleportation was interrupted, the elemental power backfiring in an instant. If he hadn’t reacted quickly, he would have been severely injured. Even so, he felt unwell, letting out a muffled groan and turning pale.
His connection to the elements had been forcibly severed—a clear indication of the power of the Extreme Plain.
For swordsmen and wizards of the supreme realm, within the extreme realm, they were like giants standing on the earth, gaining an unending source of power, which is why there is the concept of domains in the Extreme Plain.
Experts within their personal domains are nearly impossible to defeat.
Therefore, battles atop the extreme realm often see the dominating side using their domain laws to first shatter the laws of the opposing side. When the disparity in realms is so great, the strong side can forcefully sever the opponent’s connection to the world of laws.
In this battlefield, there’s hardly more than one person capable of absolute suppression over Brendel; however, to cut off the connection between him and his elements without pulling him into the Extreme Plain is a feat that, when considering the entire Empire, is only achievable by a few.
With effort, Brendel lifted his head and indeed saw Ruyer extending his right hand toward him in mid-air.
In the air, Varla couldn’t help but shake his head. Mephistopheles had told him to disregard Brendel; he was genuinely curious about the Gray Saint’s unwavering confidence in his student. After all, he was facing the pinnacle of the Empire’s power, not one but several.
Seeing Ruyer and the Witch Queen working together to detain Brendel, Varla felt somewhat disappointed, but this outcome hadn’t surprised him. No matter how powerful the Holy Sword Flame Blade was, the gap in power was evident; having seven or eight extreme experts present and allowing a junior to escape under their noses would be a disgrace to the Empire.
Not astonished, he raised a hand, and the Golden Flame Sacred Pattern flashed into existence. He was ready to aid Brendel when Siban and Richard appeared before him again.
The commander of the Flame Crown Knight Order had golden hair billowing in the wind, like a furious lion. The long sword in his hand sparkled, and with a swing, it seemed to streak across the sky, the golden flame-like sword light racing towards Varla’s Golden Flame Sacred Pattern over a thousand feet.
Siban, though not immediately attacking, made his intentions clear with his gaze:
“Your opponent is here, my lord.”
Varla felt helpless; were it only Richard, he wouldn’t be too concerned, but Siban’s watchful presence made matters more complicated. With a flick of his fingers, the Golden Sacred Pattern before him vanished, and a golden shield appeared around him.
The golden sword light struck precisely against the shield, illuminating half the sky, bright as day.
Above the Cold Dew Manor, thunder crashed ceaselessly, and now the brilliance of sword light and magic intertwined, the entire capital of the Empire had clearly understood that an elemental-level battle might occur in the mountains. Yet no one dared to venture outside to investigate, residents peered out through windows with anxious eyes at the gathering crowd in the streets:
People in cloaks were gathering more and more on the various streets; typically, patrolling knights would disperse them, but today felt different.
Until this moment, the military police and patrol knights were nowhere to be seen, as if the Empire’s control over its heart had quietly vanished.
An unspoken anxiety spread over the entire Imperial capital, with countless people unable to sleep that night.
Within the frost-covered forest, solid ice crept up Brendel’s knee towards his waist, and he could almost feel the blood in his lower body freezing painfully. The Witch Queen loomed above him—a surprisingly beautiful middle-aged woman, but her eyes were like rolling mercury, devoid of whites or pupils, appearing extremely cold. She glanced at Brendel with this frigid demeanor, “Dark Dragon?”
Brendel easily detected the mockery in her tone, yet he remained composed, furrowing his brow as if pondering a way to escape.
He maintained this posture for several breaths, as the solid ice climbed up to his chest.
But at that moment, Ruyer, his right hand outstretched towards Brendel, suddenly frowned and instinctively glanced towards the Goldenglow Commercial District.
The Witch Queen’s expression changed dramatically.
In that instant, the ice-encased Brendel suddenly crumbled like a shattered ice sculpture, dispersing into snowflakes that scattered in the air, vanishing before they could hit the ground.
“Ice Shatter!” Agatharis instinctively glanced at the Witch Queen; had she not known it was impossible, she would have almost thought the opposing side was colluding with Brendel, a dignified Witch Queen being outsmarted by a three-ring illusion from an Elementalist.
The Witch Queen’s expression darkened dangerously. “Pursue!”
She only uttered one word, but Ruyer nearby added, “Stop his subordinates; his escape method is a bit peculiar; Ice Shatter is merely a diversion.”
Agatharis turned to look, having completely neglected where Charles and the two little bloodlines had run off to earlier since they had primarily aimed to apprehend Brendel. However, the Flame Crown Knights had them surrounded in the forest, so there was no need to worry about them flying out.
Just as she spotted the young wizard’s servant, she watched in disbelief as his figure gradually faded into the forest, ultimately disappearing without a trace.
Witnessing this strange sight, the witch from Jin Hai felt her hair standing on end; in Vorande, while various magical and elemental powers existed, the method by which the young wizard’s servant vanished did not belong to any she knew.
It was neither invisibility nor illusion; she didn’t even sense any magical fluctuations. The lines of law on the other side remained undisturbed, leaving no trace of elemental power behind, giving the impression that a person had inexplicably vanished before her eyes.
As a witch, the proud mistress of the Solitary Hill, Agatharis strangely contemplated a terrifying thought: a ghost?
Feeling a chill run down her spine, she looked in other directions and coincidentally saw Andrigraphis and Medephis disappearing from the forest in a similar manner.
Almost all the Flame Crown Knights surrounding them were dumbfounded.
“He’s at the edge of the Goldenglow Commercial District,” Ruyer’s eyes shone brightly as he finally confirmed his speculations, “this is not magic.”
“Nor is it witchcraft,” the Witch Queen gloomily replied.
“I also don’t sense any trace of elemental power,” the youngest maiden cheerfully responded.
After speaking, both Ruyer and the Witch Queen fell momentarily silent; it was neither magic nor elemental power, nor was it utilizing the witches’ dream powers. What then was this force?
The key was that they could not detect this method at all.
In other words, this power had exceeded their understanding.
“It seems I’ve heard of such power before,” Ruyer suddenly replied, frowning after a moment’s contemplation, “but…”
The Witch Queen’s gaze flickered, remaining silent. She too had heard of such power.
Yet that belonged to tales of a distant era.
The one who once possessed it bore a title surpassing all others, known to the world as the Dark Dragon.
From afar, Varla, witnessing this scene, couldn’t help but have a glimmer of insight; unexpectedly, this young fellow had truly given him a surprise. Unlike anyone present, he clearly recognized the source of the power Brendel was displaying.
The Traveling Mage—
They had indeed returned.
Mephistopheles’ student was truly remarkable, he gradually halted his actions as a beam of light broke through the dark clouds above, descending from the sky, rendering Richard and Siban, who were combating him, unable to move.
“Sanctuary of the Divine Word!”
A few gasps rose from below.
Richard and Siban were anchored in flawless golden light, glaring at Varla. At a distance, Ruyer instinctively wanted to take action, but glancing at the overwhelming golden light, he shook his head and withdrew.
Sanctuary of the Divine Word was the highest sacred spell of the Temple of Fire, something that only a Holy Seat could learn. It was also the strongest means of self-preservation above the Holy Seat; within the range of Sanctuary of the Divine Word, unless a sage intervened, it seemed no one in Vorande could detain him.
Once, Sidney had escaped the Imperial capital using this spell when Richard and the others could do nothing to her, let alone the great Holy Seat Varla personally casting it.
At this moment, Varla’s form was fading amidst the golden light. He took one last look at the dark night sky and shook his head, saying, “The Empire of today differs from the past, Your Majesty.”
“Teacher, will you also betray the Empire and stand against me by taking the side of others?” The Queen’s calm voice suggested she was hardly angered by Brendel and the others’ escape.
Varla sighed.
During the Princess Era, he had indeed been one of the many teachers of the Silver Queen. At that time, the young princess had amazed everyone with her talents in the Path of Golden Flames; had she not been a royal, she could have potentially surpassed Sidney to become the next Holy Seat of the Temple of Fire.
“You were once the kindest princess among the Crusians, Your Majesty,” Varla lamented, “if you still wish to return to the right path.”
“I have never been more convinced than now that I stand on the correct road.” The Silver Queen replied coldly.
“Obsession clouds your vision, Your Majesty.”
“On the contrary, it is you who cannot see the way ahead.”
Varla shook his head, his form transforming into a golden phantom, until finally the clouds closed together, leaving the golden radiance only as a memory in the minds of those present.
As if everything that had transpired was merely an illusion, only a long sigh echoed in the air above the forest.
The Silver Queen remained silent for a long time.
The extreme experts hovering above the forest unconsciously gazed into the night sky, each feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Seven or eight extreme experts had come together, yet they could not even detain a mere young man at the peak of the laws. What embarrassed them most was that not only had they failed to keep him from escaping, but they’d also allowed him to wreak havoc in Cold Dew Manor before making a complete getaway.
Among those present, the Witch Queen’s face was the most sullen, followed closely by Willerk and the injured Bradley, while Ruyer, who had failed, seemed nonchalant.
After a moment of silence, the Silver Queen’s order came again:
“No need to pursue; return to the White Rose Garden immediately.”
