If the Deep Sea Faction has a universally recognized Heaven’s Chosen Son, then that person must be Misha.
Standing behind him are the forebears of the Elder Council mbers, and he himself possesses outstanding talent. He was born with a rune-carved golden spoon in his mouth, so much so that even the Old Prophet once gave him a laudatory prophecy—
[The na Misha is destined to inspire awe and reverence in many, possessing a fa and prestige unimaginable to others on the land outside the Spirit Lake!]
It is said that Misha’s parents perished in an accident, and he himself was affected by the spell, causing his body to remain forever at the age of fourteen or fifteen, unable to grow any older.
But this does not affect the support and "adoration" he receives from everyone.
This ti, the selection of the Son of the Deep Sea had long ago started building a stage belonging solely to Misha, many decades ago.
The appearance of the Deep Knowledge Crown stirred the ambitions of so, but they quickly cald down through rounds of combat selections, recognizing reality.
Misha possesses all the potential required to beco the Son of the Deep Sea.
At a young age, he has already beco a Level 5 Wizard with a Six-Star Primordial Spirit; his influence extends far and wide, even personally selecting his final round opponents.
The prodigy who awakened the spiritual text of the Deep Knowledge Crown within the tower will be the greatest contributor to assisting Misha in ascending to the position of the Son of the Deep Sea... witnessing up close the ultimate accomplishnt of this affair!
The projection of the Fla Tower "spits out" the last, and largest, Spatial Battlefield Light Ball, then silently vanishes.
The inverted Deep Sea Tower reappears, with the Deep Knowledge Crown at its pinnacle.
When this final Light Ball shatters, the person walking out in the stance of a victor can easily embrace this Crystal Crown.
The eyes of countless Deep Sea Wizards focus, forming an invisible path in the void.
Misha, with a high spirit, walks toward the Light Ball, one step at a ti, basking in everyone’s gaze.
The aura behind him is already beginning to coalesce.
This battle, whether it happens or not, no longer matters. No one doubts the final result; after all, it’s just a formality.
Ronan, "lonely" approaches the Light Ball from another direction, appearing much dimr compared to the spotlight Misha enjoys.
After all, he is just a supporting role.
When the figures of the two vanish into the Light Ball, everyone’s eyes start to converge on that splendid Crystal Crown.
So speculate that the appearance of the Deep Knowledge Crown is to verify the Old Prophet’s prophecy about Misha back then.
When Misha erges from the Light Ball and dons the Deep Knowledge Crown, perhaps that will be the mont the legend belonging to "Misha" begins.
....
Ronan lands on the ground.
The battle space for the final duel appears especially vast, with the density of free energy particles in the air being quite even.
Misha stands not far from him, arms crossed, smiling as he watches him.
Misha completely resembles a fourteen or fifteen-year-old, youthful in appearance, with seemingly unshaved fuzz.
Yet he carries a seasoned air, as if everything is confidently within his grasp.
"Ronan Damien."
Misha speaks, his voice having the sharpness typical of a teenage boy in the middle of voice change, yet deliberately lowered to sound more mature.
"This is our first formal eting; in fact, I’ve had this thought for a long ti..."
Misha, originally in a much higher position than Ronan, begins to descend an unseen staircase, step by step, approaching Ronan.
"You have not disappointed ..."
Misha stands before Ronan, pretending to be solemn, pats his left shoulder, and says: "You possess an exceptional vision far surpassing others. From the mont you entered the Spirit Lake, you made the most wise and correct choice of your life — choosing to follow .
I greatly appreciate this about you."
Ronan presses his lips together.
He estimates that if standing on solid ground, Misha’s height would only reach about his chest.
"Speaking of which, I haven’t formally accepted your allegiance yet, so why not do it now?"
Misha smiles faintly and then places his hand on Ronan’s shoulder, beginning to recite, as if to himself: "In the na of the Spirit Lake, in the honor of the Tyron family, I—Misha Tilion—accept your loyalty and vow.
Your staff shall beco an extension of my will, your courage shall beco my shield..."
"Wait!"
Ronan suddenly interrupts Misha, who is montarily surprised, then shows a slight expression of displeasure on his face.
"What I an is..."
Ronan rubs his nose and says, "Why not wait until we go outside? Everyone out there is waiting for us... for the Deep Knowledge Crown."
The ntion of the Deep Knowledge Crown causes Misha’s eyes to light up instantly, and the initial traces of displeasure vanish quickly, replaced by eagerness.
"You’re right.. this environnt isn’t really suitable, it’s not solemn enough, a bit too hasty.
I didn’t consider it thoroughly."
Misha’s eyes shift, retreating rapidly, completely abandoning the mature and steady deanor he had just tried to establish.
He stops at his original position, then waves to Ronan, "Co, attack with a spell."
"Hmm?!"
"Idiot."
Misha shakes his head, "At this mont, the Great Elder and the Elder Council mbers might all be ’watching’ us.
The necessary formality still needs to be conducted. You attack , let defeat you, then concede...
Don’t dally, hurry and attack , use your best, most powerful spell."
Ronan "realizes," but looks hesitant: "Is this appropriate?"
Misha begins to grow impatient: "What is or isn’t appropriate, hurry up.
I order you, imdiately, right now, att...."
"Then I... won’t hold back."
Before Misha finishes speaking, he sees Ronan in the distance quietly raise his head, his gaze suddenly becoming as bright as snow, with strange lights blooming within, forming a vortex.
Following that, an imnsely powerful Spiritual Field, even greater than his own, exudes from him.
Like a giant, majestic invisible celestial body, light and heat radiating throughout the entire dueling space.
Misha’s eyes involuntarily widened, and he exclaid in surprise, "You..."
"Boom!"
It was as if an invisible hamr heavily struck the void, pounding right onto Misha’s heart.
Misha abruptly clutched his chest, and in the next mont, he felt an indescribable terrifying aura rapidly evolving within this space, becoming more intense, drawing almost all the free energy particles from the vast space, until... it transford into a raging forbidden ocean!
"One layer of Magic Control.. Forbidden - Black Hole!"
A voice eerily echoed in Misha’s ear.
In the next instant, Misha’s pupils contracted sharply.
The previously beautiful blue-gold eyes were rapidly replaced by a pure black fierce sun.
Twist, devour!
Everything around seed to be violently pulled.
Misha scread, releasing the force field belonging to a Level 5 Wizard, his body quickly elentalized, even so brilliant lights gathered towards him, attempting to condense into a dazzling crystal form.
"Crack, crack, crack——"
It sounded like the slow turning of an ancient heavy millstone.
The black great sun slightly rotated, and the originally terrifying absorption force instantly surged again!
The might of the Forbidden Magic Domain ford a lightning-like shape, wantonly wandering in the void.
Misha’s Level 5 force field was easily crushed under this trendous force, the energy radiance gathered on his body, torn away piece by piece like ragged cloth, causing him to break free from his elental form, the magic robe flapped chaos like a tattered flag striking against his body and face.
Misha scread, growled fiercely, his eyes bloodshot, hysterical.
His eyes firmly fixed on the black sun that was continuously pressing closer, the unprecedented spell oppression seed to pull him right back to the darkest mont in his mories.
—Nightfall, fresh blood, flas, the twisted grotesque face of his enemy, his tragically deceased parents....
The storm demolished the greenhouse, the cold surged inside, stirring the deepest buried fear in his heart.
Misha’s lips trembled, his body shook, stripped away of all protection and disguise, he appeared as weak as a sorrowful helpless child.
He kept his eyes wide open, not daring to make a sound.
Tears swiftly trickled down from his eyes.....
Suddenly, a figure erged from the black sun, gently landing before him.
"Why are you crying...."
Ronan reached out, gently brushed Misha’s cheek, lowered his head, and spoke softly, "Once I beco Spirit Lake’s Son, the position in the Deep Sea... isn’t it still yours?"
After speaking, Ronan casually snapped his fingers, the black hole ruptured, tearing apart the thin barrier of space, and he walked out.
Misha stood dazedly, watching until the figure completely vanished, then without choice, was pulled away by a force.....
.....
"Misha! Misha..."
In the crystal room, standing beside the returning Lady l was Heather, fiercely biting her nails as if only this could vent the frustration and anger in her heart.
"So, you already got close to Misha, no wonder you dared to ignore ... damn it! Damn guy.."
Heather cursed repeatedly in her heart.
At that mont, sudden commotion sounded from outside the room, along with eager cheers ready to erupt.
Heather couldn’t help but quickened her pace, running forward, as Lady l stood up from her seat, walking slowly to the window.
All eyes were currently focused on one point.
The last battle space light ball was breaking into pieces.
Dazzling radiance shot out from within the light ball, amidst the radiance, faint silhouettes erged.
"Misha!"
"Misha!"
"Son of the Deep Sea!"
Within the circular Crystal Palace, wizards stepped out, Misha’s followers, along with another group of wizards, began to call out Misha’s na.
Everyone saw it, a long and powerful hand stretched out from the glaring radiance, grabbing the near crystal crown, slowly placing it onto his forehead.
"He’s always so impatient..."
There was a teasing voice from a wizard in the crowd, causing light laughter among a small cluster.
However, amidst the anticipation of everyone, the radiance gradually faded, revealing the figure crowned with the crystal crown....
In the vast field, suddenly there was not a single sound in an instant.
Shock, bewildernt, filled every already dazed slightly upturned face.
Beneath the magnificent and dazzling crystal crown, it was not Misha at all, but soone else.
White hair, blue robe, beautiful and serene, like a star silently in the sky of eternal night, or like a deep pool unchanged for ten thousand years.
He calmly overlooked everyone, behind him was Misha, eyes red, tears streaming, lost and dazed.
Heather stared blankly at the striking figure in mid-air, a mont as if struck by countless bolts of lightning simultaneously, her body stiffened, standing motionless.
After a mont, she unconsciously murmured, "Not...
How co it’s him who won again?
Isn’t this... the final round?"
At the sa ti, in another crystal room.
Valentine, who had been standing still for a long ti, suddenly his magic robe billowed, hair whipped, his aura running madly like a volcanic eruption.
He abruptly turned his head, glaring at Heliodor’s stupefied face beside him, incredulously questioning, "Heliodor, you damn.... playing real with ?!"
......
Requesting monthly tickets! Thank you~~
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