Chapter 531: One-Way Mana Seal
"Lord Larn, talking to you is about as productive as lecturing a brick wall..." Leon gave a small, sardonic shake of his head, the gesture almost mocking. He let the silence hang for a heartbeat, savoring the old archmage’s discomfort before, with deliberate laziness, stretching out his hand—like a predator indulging in slow cruelty.
A surge of magic—raw, thunderous, and hungry—ripped through the air, swirling with a primal roar. The very ground trembled as the Frost Mammoths, charging from ten meters away, were hurled aside like broken toys, their roars echoing low and mournful, the sound mingling with the electric tang of mana in the frozen air.
And then...
Larn Merlin was left reeling, mind blank with shock. One moment he stood tall, the next he was sprawled helplessly before Leon, his dignity shattered like glass. Leon barely bothered to move—just a casual lift of his hand, pinning the proud Title Archmage’s throat with the ease of a bored executioner. For a heartbeat, Leon almost pitied him. Almost.
"This... how is this even possible!" Larn Merlin’s mind spun in panic. He—a Title Archmage—caught like a rookie by a mere Fifth Level Archmage? The humiliation burned hot, pride shrieking in protest. He threw every last ounce of will at his mana, desperate, frantic, like a drowning man clutching at air.
But his mana barely stirred before a crushing force slammed it down—merciless, absolute. Larn Merlin’s scream was sharp, raw, teetering on the edge of madness. All his Fourth Level Title Archmage power felt laughably small, a cruel joke. Against this, he was nothing. Less than nothing.
It was like being trapped in a nightmare—one of those slow-motion, suffocating dreams where every ounce of strength is just wasted effort.
No, this was far worse than any nightmare. The moment he realized escape was impossible, Larn Merlin felt his sanity teeter. Wasn’t he a real Fourth Level Title Archmage, nearly at the threshold of High Title Archmage? Yet here he was—utterly powerless, gripped by a Fifth Level Archmage, reduced to a trembling shadow of himself. It was enough to make him question everything.
"I gave you a chance, but you squandered it. Now it’s time for a little punishment—just to keep you from making trouble later..." Leon’s voice was cool, almost bored, but there was a glint of dark amusement in his eyes. No dramatic gestures, just a quiet, cryptic incantation—a One-Way Mana Seal—slipping past his lips. He could almost pity the old archmage. Almost.
"What... what punishment?"
"I don't have time to play nursemaid..." Leon muttered, impatience bleeding through. This Title Archmage had already eaten up more of his day than he cared to admit.
Mana Imprisonment!
How could this happen...
Larn Merlin's eyes filled with endless terror. He could hardly believe it—Mana Imprisonment wasn't unfamiliar to him. He'd personally sealed the mana of enemy mages before. Never did he imagine it would happen to him, and worst of all, the caster wasn't a High Title Archmage, nor a Heavenly Mage, but just a Fifth Level Archmage.
A Fifth Level Archmage, sealing the mana of a Fourth Level Title Archmage?
If word got out about such a ridiculous event, no one would believe it—they'd probably treat it as a joke.
With that news came the first whispers of the name Matthew Merlin—a stranger, yet soon to be infamous.
Even now, he still couldn't quite believe it. Was this Matthew Merlin really just a Fifth Level Archmage?
He had every reason to doubt it...
How could a Fifth Level Archmage possess such terrifying power, able to suppress a Title Archmage so easily? And not a newly promoted one, but a genuine Fourth Level, almost Fifth Level. Yet even so, the young mage sealed his mana without effort.
Yes, faced with the young mage's overwhelming strength, he nearly gave up resisting.
It was simply too frightening...
Having spent years fighting in the Furyflame Plane, he'd seen plenty. The top forces of Auckland would sometimes send young prodigies to train in Furyflame. He'd heard tales of some who, even at Fifth Level Archmage, could rival the strongest mages. That seemed unbelievable enough...
But now, compared to the young mage before him, those so-called prodigies were nothing.
What kind of monster was this...?
At Fifth Level Archmage, he could easily suppress and seal his mana—if this young mage ever reached Title Archmage, or higher, how terrifying would he be?
Just thinking about it made Larn Merlin break out in a cold sweat. It was simply too frightening.
While Larn Merlin was lost in thought, the young mage's voice sounded in his ear again.
"Remember, this is just a small punishment. If you cause trouble again, I won't hesitate to make you a true ordinary man..." After speaking, Leon added, "Just like Owen Merlin..."
A true... a true ordinary man.
A dignified Title Archmage, once again frightened by Leon's words, instantly turned pale. He knew exactly what the young mage meant by 'a true ordinary man.' That wasn't just Mana Imprisonment—it meant destroying his Magic Core!
Just being stripped of mana, rendered powerless and an ordinary man, was agony enough. But to have his Magic Core destroyed, to be a mundane for life—that was a fate a thousand times worse than death.
Wait... Owen Merlin!
Only now did he suddenly realize—the young mage had just mentioned Owen Merlin. That realization sent a look of terror across his face.
Yes, yes, the rumors are true. Lord Thorne's most gifted son was crippled by Matthew Merlin!
In recent years, he'd spent all his time in the Furyflame Plane, never returning to the Merlin Family. But sometimes news would reach him. Half a year ago, when he arrived at Frostflame Fortress, he'd heard people mention Lord Thorne's son, Owen Merlin, whose magical path was cut short in an accident—his Magic Core destroyed, condemned to be an ordinary man for life, never to be a mage again.
With that news came the first mention he'd ever heard of the unfamiliar name, Matthew Merlin.
Of course, he hadn't believed the rumor at all, especially since the Ancestral Grounds soon announced that Matthew Merlin would be sent to the Furyflame Plane as one of the commanders.
Just think—who was Owen Merlin?
He was the family's young prodigy—at just over thirty, already a High Archmage, and only a few years away from becoming a Title Archmage. His father, Lord Thorne Merlin, had earned countless merits for the Merlin Family in the Furyflame Plane over the decades.
If Matthew Merlin really crippled Owen Merlin, how could he escape punishment and even be appointed commander by the Ancestral Grounds?
Anyone could see that made no sense at all...
Besides, Lord Thorne wasn't one to let things slide. His most prized son crippled—an unforgivable grudge. How could he possibly spare Matthew Merlin?
So Larn Merlin always thought the rumor was fake...
But now, hearing the young mage mention Owen Merlin by name, he suddenly realized his judgment had likely been wrong—the rumor was almost certainly true!
It's not that Lord Thorne was willing to let the young mage go, but he simply had no choice—or maybe he just didn't have the power to retaliate. After all, judging by the young mage's thunderous display earlier, effortlessly suppressing a Fourth Level Title Archmage, his strength already far surpassed Lord Thorne...
"If you want to use my method against the Frost Mammoths, then you have to follow my orders. I'll give you one more chance—if you promise to behave and help lure the Frost Mammoths, I'll lift the Mana Imprisonment..." With that, Leon slowly released his grip on Larn Merlin's neck, a look of resignation on his face. If he left Larn Merlin here, he'd surely die. After all, he's a Merlin Family member, and doing so would only make Orren Merlin and Ryan Merlin from the Ancestral Grounds dissatisfied with Leon.
If he behaved, Leon would lift the seal—no big deal.
But if he kept acting out like before...
"I... I... I..." Hearing that the young mage was willing to lift the Mana Imprisonment, Larn Merlin, the Fourth Level Title Archmage, became visibly emotional, his voice trembling and words incoherent...
"I don't have time to waste on you..." Leon was clearly impatient. He'd already spent too much time on this Title Archmage.
"I... I promise, I'll do everything you say!" Larn Merlin replied nervously, taking a deep breath. After finally managing a complete sentence, it was as if he'd used up all his strength.
"Good. I hope Lord Larn, you'll remember your promise." Leon smiled faintly, touched his nose, and softly uttered an incantation. Afterward, he even brushed the dust off Larn Merlin's clothes before leaving him behind, turning into a blur as he dashed away into the distance.
"Whew..."
Watching the young mage's silhouette and feeling mana flow through his body again, Larn Merlin exhaled with difficulty—like a man who'd survived a disaster. It truly was a nightmare...
For the next half hour, all six members of the squad did their best to follow Leon's instructions, using every trick they knew to lure over a thousand Frost Mammoths. Even so, weaving through these terrifying death gods of the icefield, no matter how careful they were, some of the Frost magic inevitably caught them. During this time, almost everyone suffered a dozen wounds of varying severity—including Leon, who was hit twice not long ago.
But for Leon, wounds were just part of the job. As long as they made it out alive, he’d call it a good day. Everything else? Just another bruise in the story.