The head under the hood tilted slightly, as if savoring William’s seemingly random remark.
After a mont of silence, the Prophet paused, and his deep, steady voice sounded again. This ti, there seed to be an almost imperceptible undertone mixed in, "You still often say things that are hard to understand... You’re a bit late."
William’s eyebrow moved ever so slightly.
He keenly caught the fleeting oddity in the other’s words—there lay a hint of familiarity, almost a tiless sentint.
An old acquaintance?
Thus, William imdiately pursued, trying to seize this fleeting flaw, "Oh? We’ve t before? It sounds like you know a lot about ..."
"It’s not important."
But the Prophet abruptly interrupted him, quickly stifling that brief leak of emotion, returning to the inscrutable black-robed figure, "What’s important is, William Richard, do you know your greatest weakness?"
William’s face showed just the right amount of curiosity, "I don’t know, I’m all ears."
"It’s your deep-rooted arrogance."
The Prophet declared with an unwavering assertion, "You believe your strength has surpassed everything in this world. You think any ticulous calculations or far-reaching plans are insignificant in the face of your brute absolute power."
"Oh? Am I really like that?"
William countered, his tone revealing neither agreent nor objection.
"If not—"
The Prophet’s voice suddenly heightened, carrying a trace of icy mockery, "You wouldn’t be here! You wouldn’t tread so easily onto the stage I painstakingly prepared for you. You believe your power can crush all unforeseen events. So, you ca—this is the proof of your arrogance."
Hearing this, William displayed that kind of arrogance ntioned by the other, a playful curve appearing at the corner of his mouth, "Painstakingly prepared? Oh, I do love ’surprises.’
"...You will regret it."
The Prophet said solemnly as he suddenly raised his hands that had been hanging by his side, the wide sleeves of his black robe spreading like bat wings.
At the sa ti, the mbers of the Ashwinder, nurous in number, had quietly moved to the edge of the giant altar beneath their feet, forming a tidy circle. They too raised their arms, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods—
Then, they began muttering, seemingly chanting so ancient and cryptic spell. The voice started low, then grew louder, eventually rging into an unsettling hum that could irritate anyone relentlessly.
Then, a sudden change erged.
On the altar, those pale golden runes originally engraved on the stone, seemingly lifeless, suddenly emitted unprecedented light as if injected with energy, flowing like liquid gold. The brilliance quickly coursed along the rune veins, illuminating the entire cave as if it were daylight—
anwhile, William let out a muffled groan, his body slightly swaying.
A strong, unprecedented feeling of weakness washed over him like a tide, as if sothing crucial had been forcibly severed. It wasn’t physical exhaustion, but an inexplicable emptiness. Unconsciously, he furrowed his brows. This feeling was uncomfortable, almost making him feel a sense of...
Crisis.
William licked his lips.
"It’s the Secret Vault."
At this ti, the Prophet spoke. He seed intent on maintaining his composure, yet both William and the two won anxiously watching could clearly detect an almost smug undertone—
"Your trump card, Richard, your inexhaustible magical power source, the Secret Vault!" The Prophet’s voice carried a satisfaction of revealing a truth, "You’ve beco too reliant on it, considering it part of your own power. But now, right here where you’ve set foot, your connection has been severed—"
He paused, seeming to relish the subtle change in William’s expression and the sudden glimr of hope in the eyes of the two goddesses, continuing, "Moreover, I’ve already transferred the trendous energy that originally flowed to you, to myself through this altar—"
His voice trailed off, and a simple yet old-fashioned Magic Wand had appeared in the Prophet’s hand.
He waved it without hesitation, a red Charm with a destructive aura burst from the tip, like a roaring fiery serpent, tearing through the air, heading straight for the seemingly unsteady William.
In face of this sudden and fierce attack, William reacted imdiately, swinging his Redwood Wand as soon as the opponent’s Charm was cast. A blue Charm of the sa caliber shot forth.
"Boom—"
The red and blue Charms, containing terrifying energy, clashed head-on midway—not exploding but forming an extrely unstable link at the collision point. Blinding white light erupted from it, even causing crackling white plasma to spray around, burning charred pits in the altar’s hard surface.
The two forces collided and devoured each other, montarily stalemated.
However, this balance lasted rely a few seconds.
The Prophet suddenly let out a low, eerie laugh, "I sowhat underestimated you, but without the Secret Vault’s support, how long can your own magic reserve persist?"
With his words, the red Charm visibly swelled and thickened, its brilliance growing more intense, like a searing branding iron. With seemingly invincible strength, it slowly but steadily pushed William’s blue Charm back, squeezing and crushing—
"Bang!"
The blue Charm finally couldn’t hold and burst into countless light points, yet the red torrent pressed on, rushing straight at William.
At this critical juncture, William shifted his stance laly, sliding thoughtfully toward the back while his Wand traced an arc in front of him. A translucent Iron Armor Spell barrier ford instantly—
"Sizzle—"
The edge of the red Charm brushed past the Iron Armor Spell. Though it didn’t hit directly, the terrifying energy scatter still pumled the hastily erected Protective Spell, causing it to fluctuate violently, shimring before shattering.
"See!"
The Prophet halted his Charm yet did not imdiately pursue, loudly proclaiming in a manner akin to declaring victory, radiating unveiled triumph, "This is what I said: your flaw, your arrogance will ultimately lead to your downfall! You..."
"You think I will die?"
William interrupted the self-assured victory declaration, his tone unusually calm and even slightly curious, as if discussing an irrelevant topic.
The Prophet, stunned by his reaction, then angrily laughed, "What do you have to say now?"
"Nothing more to say; please proceed promptly."
"?"
"Just kidding... Quick question and answer round: how is the energy in the Secret Vault created?"
This sudden turn left the Prophet dumbfounded for a mont, reflexively asking, "Wha... what?"
"Wrong answer."
A mocking smile appeared on William’s face, devoid of any earlier ’weakness’ or ’gravity,’ "The energy in the Secret Vault is a high-density magical power aggregate ford after extracting and refining intense human emotions—"
He spoke like a Professor enlightening his students in a classroom.
"—Too bad you didn’t clear the venue beforehand, Victor."
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