Chapter 93: Chapter 83: Avril Star Language
In the dim room, the flickering fla was particularly glaring.
By the ti the man in the white robes snapped out of his shock, the dancing Fla had already flickered into his line of sight.
"A Trick... is that a Flaming Arrow?"
The white-robed man raised an eyebrow at the sight of the familiar opening gesture.
He knew the power of a Flaming Arrow all too well.
Thus, he felt no fear. Instead, he grew deeply interested in the fact that Roland could cast a Trick.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, his movents showed no hesitation.
Even if a Flaming Arrow had limited power, it was still a Trick that shared its origin with Magic.
In his currently weakened state, taking it head-on would be an unwise move.
Just as he prepared to step aside and dodge, the light on Roland’s fingertip suddenly surged.
In an instant, the tiny flicker of fla swelled into a palm-sized fireball.
’How is this possible? That was clearly just a Trick...’
Before the horrified thought could even fade, the white-robed man’s pupils contracted, his gaze locked onto the ball of Fla.
That was his Life Box.
The outline drawn by the Fla was perfect, down to the ancient, etched patterns on its surface, which were rendered in minute detail. It was as if soone had projected his very soul vessel into the firelight.
He should have been on guard. He should have averted his gaze imdiately.
But the flickering rhythm of the Fla was like a hypnotic Spell, lulling his consciousness into submission.
"No... this is impossible..."
His voice was hoarse and weak.
His rational mind scread warnings of danger, but his body felt as though it were being manipulated by invisible strings; he couldn’t even move a fingertip.
The ball of Fla grew larger and larger in his vision, slowly filling his entire world.
The white-robed man’s will to resist gradually crumbled.
His mind descended into chaos, only a single thought echoing within.
’That Fla... it’s my Life Box... No!’
’It’s Spiritual Control!’
His Spiritual Barrier shuddered violently, forcefully crushing the invading Charming Power.
But by the ti the white-robed man refocused his gaze, what greeted him was a scorching, fully-charged fireball.
Too late.
As the orange-red glow illuminated his pale face, the fla, compressed to its absolute limit, locked onto his entire body.
A single mont of distraction in a life-or-death battle is a fatal opening.
But the white-robed man’s face showed no sign of panic. The corners of his mouth rely curled upward.
"How... interesting..."
Before the whisper was finished, the fireball detonated.
A scorching heatwave instantly swept through the room, engulfing everything in a blazing inferno.
Wooden tables and chairs twisted and warped in the intense heat. Paintings on the wall were instantly incinerated. Even the window panes shattered from the violent temperature change, sending shards flying everywhere.
Thick smoke billowed toward the ceiling, only to be sucked back down by the explosive Fla, forming a searing vortex within the small space.
Flas surged and hot winds howled, and Roland’s robes whipped about in the scorching blast.
He narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing the superheated air to lock onto the figure engulfed by the Fla.
Strangely, the white-robed man wasn’t burning. Instead, he was dissolving like ink spreading through water.
His Spirit Body twisted and warped in the intense heat, like a thin veil being torn apart by an unseen hand. Its edges continuously crumbled, dissolving into fine, scattered points of light.
Suddenly, with a blinding flash of light, the body burst apart.
There was no spray of blood and gore, no piercing scream—only countless crystalline fragnts scattering like shattered glass.
Amidst the shower of airborne fragnts, a gleaming object was faintly visible.
CLINK!
With a clear tallic sound, the object finally fell to the ground.
’Is it over?’
Roland warily scanned his surroundings, his gaze sweeping over every inch of the room. Only after confirming there was no further movent did his taut nerves begin to relax.
Because his Spiritual Power had increased significantly after he beca a Juggler, the Flaming Arrow he’d just cast—though comparable in power to the first one—hadn’t left him in a state of complete exhaustion.
After letting out a long breath, Roland composed himself, stepped forward, and bent down to pick up the gleaming object lying quietly on the floor.
The mont his fingertips touched it, he felt the cool texture of tal.
He frowned slightly, raising it to his eyes to examine it more closely.
’A... pendant?’
A delicate silver chain dangled from his fingers. The pendant itself was a teardrop-shaped piece of Obsidian, its surface swirling with fine, dark-red patterns that looked like congealed threads of blood.
As the light shifted, the outline of so intricate lines faintly erged from deep within the stone’s core.
They were definitely not natural formations.
’Are these... engraved Spell Patterns?’
Just as Roland was deep in thought, a faint buzzing suddenly sounded in his ear.
The sound was like the buzz of a mosquito at first, but in an instant, it swelled and then popped.
With a soft POP, it felt as though soone had burst a bubble right next to his eardrum.
He shuddered, as if so invisible blockage had suddenly been removed from his ears.
The eerie silence was instantly shattered as a flood of countless sounds rushed in.
The rustle of wind through blades of grass, the distant clang of weapons, and the faint sound of battle cries carried on a blood-tinged breeze.
’This is...’
Roland’s pupils contracted, and his fingers tightened around the pendant unconsciously.
So the silence from before hadn’t been real; his senses had been clouded by so kind of power.
After giving his head a slight shake, Roland looked in the direction of the battle cries.
It was the direction of the harbor.
Under the dim sky, figures in white robes were locked in a chaotic battle with Guards in the deep blue uniforms of Distant Harbor.
Amid the flashing of blades, the white-robed figures were steadily losing ground. The Guards clearly had the upper hand.
’What in the world is going on...’
The instant he frowned in thought, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air beside him.
Roland quickly shoved the pendant inside his shirt, his right hand instinctively gripping the sword hilt at his waist.
But before he could pinpoint the source of the sound, a clear voice called out from his side.
"Sorry, sorry! Roland! Are you all right?"
CRASH!
With a shower of broken glass, a slender figure vaulted nimbly through the broken window.
Backlit by the dim yellow light of dusk, Roland slowly narrowed his eyes.
The newcor was a young woman.
Beneath her short brown hair, her features were so exquisite they seed otherworldly.
Her round cheeks were smudged with dust, and her parted lips heaved with rapid breaths.
Most striking of all were her eyes, which held a faint luminescence that made them exceptionally bright in the darkness.
When she turned her head, Roland noticed her ears.
They were more pointed than a human’s, the rims nearly translucent.
This made him tense up instantly.
’An Elf?’
Before Roland could voice his question, the young woman had already swept her gaze across the room, her eyes finally locking onto his face.
"Thank goodness, Roland! You’re alive!"
She took a jubilant step forward, her short brown hair swaying with the motion.
"If anything had happened to you, I really don’t know how I would’ve explained it to Mr. Colin."
Seeing this, Roland took a wary half-step back, his right hand remaining firmly on his sword hilt.
"Who are you?"
"Still as cautious as ever..."
Seeing Roland’s tense posture, the young woman sighed in resignation.
She then placed her left hand over her chest and perford a peculiar but elegant salute.
"Avril Star Language, field agent for the Shadow Veil Organization of the River Domain,"
Reviews
All reviews (0)