Chapter 206: Dragonblood Orcs
"Damn it!" Leon cursed loudly, not even bothering to think as he hurled a Fireball straight ahead.
Now, Leon stood at the very peak of a Ninth-Tier Grand Mage. His strength was more than double what it had been as a Fifth-Tier Grand Mage. Even if the Ninth-Tier Archmage Horn appeared again, he would likely have to admit he was no match for Leon. The Fireball Leon cast in his fury was, needless to say, terrifyingly powerful...
With a thunderous roar, the Fireball erupted in a blinding blaze, shaking the earth and mountains in an instant...
"Who is it!" Then Leon heard an enraged voice shouting, "Damn it, who’s ambushing me? Show yourself!"
Leon frowned, pushed open the carriage door, and stepped out.
It was only then that Leon realized the convoy had arrived at Razor Rift. Ahead was a camp already set up, marked with the insignia of the Silvermoon Mercenary Company. Steep mountain walls flanked both sides, and a single road—barely wide enough for one carriage—stretched straight ahead. The earlier angry voice had come from that road...
From a distance, Leon saw a young mage in his thirties, covered in soot as if he’d just been scorched by fire. The magical aura he radiated in his rage was about Seventh or Eighth-Tier Grand Mage level. Clearly, this was the culprit who had interrupted Leon at such a critical moment.
Just thinking about the character he’d nearly completed simulating made Leon’s eyes narrow. When he looked at the furious mage, his gaze was openly murderous. After thousands of failed attempts, this was the closest he’d ever come to success—and now, at the critical moment, someone had interrupted him. Leon’s anger was truly beyond words.
Although this experience meant Leon could avoid countless detours in his next attempt, the fury of being interrupted at such a crucial moment was impossible to suppress.
Unfortunately, that young Grand Mage had no idea he was marching further down the path to his own doom...
"You people from Seaview City are shameless! If you want to snatch this mutant orc, just say so—what’s the point of such a despicable sneak attack?"
"Huh?" Leon was startled by the accusation. He sent out a Wizard’s Eye and discovered, not far from the young Grand Mage, a strangely shaped orc lying on the ground. Its body was slender and small, and its face was far less ferocious than most orcs. If not for its signature dark red skin, Leon might not have recognized it as an orc at all.
Most peculiar of all, the mutant orc radiated a faint trace of draconic might!
"Dragonblood Orc?"
Sensing that subtle hint of draconic might, Leon immediately understood. This was a Dragonblood Orc—a legendary offspring of a dragon and an orc, and judging by the purity of its aura, a true first-generation hybrid. Otherwise, it would be impossible for it to radiate such draconic presence.
Dragonblood Orcs were incredibly rare...
Born with the ability to master both magic and martial arts, their orc blood granted them formidable defenses and innate magical power. By adulthood, they could easily possess the strength of a Swordmaster, and with proper training, even reaching the realm of Sword Saint wasn’t out of the question.
The dragon bloodline, meanwhile, endowed them with astonishing spellcasting ability...
No, this spellcasting wasn’t like a mage’s at all. It was draconic magic, inherited through blood—a form far more direct and efficient than human magic. They didn’t need to study arcane theory or memorize spell incantations; with their innate dragon blood, they could wield magical power rivaling any human mage.
Who would have thought that, after Razor Rift had already been cleared, a Dragonblood Orc would suddenly appear...
But wait—the method for cultivating Dragonblood Orcs wasn’t supposed to be discovered until centuries later, after the Black Tower wiped out the splintered Caucasus Battle Mages and found it in the savage tribes’ ancient tomes!
Could it be that the method for creating Dragonblood Orcs has surfaced ahead of time?
The thought sent a chill down Leon’s spine.
But soon, Leon realized he was just scaring himself...
"Let me tell you, that mutant orc’s blood is a magical material personally requested by my teacher, Grandmaster Fran. If you want to snatch it, go ahead and try—see if you can withstand the wrath of a Grandmaster!"
"Magical material?" Leon couldn’t help but laugh—using Dragonblood Orc blood as a magical material, only Fran could come up with something like that...
Dragonblood Orc blood is half dragon, half orc. As a magical material, it’s incredibly unstable. In all of Andalusia, only a handful of Worldshapers could possibly control it...
As for Fran...
Maybe in his next life.
Finding the whole thing absurd, Leon lost interest in arguing. He simply stretched out his hand, unleashing a surge of powerful magic. From dozens of meters away, the slender Dragonblood Orc floated toward Leon like a stalk of straw, landing lightly before him.
Leon looked down and examined the Dragonblood Orc. It was badly injured and unconscious, its body covered in marks from spell attacks—some charred, some icy cold. None were fatal, but there were dozens of wounds, each a testament to the torment it had endured...
After a moment’s thought, Leon pulled a dagger from his pocket and made a small cut on the orc’s finger. A few drops of dark red blood fell, and with a practiced sleight of hand, Leon produced a glass vial, catching every drop.
(Irrelevant system message skipped.)
"A Dragonblood Orc, no doubt." Before Leon could study the blood in the vial, he saw the wound from the dagger healing rapidly before his eyes.
Leon instantly recognized the orc’s powerful regenerative ability—a gift of its orc bloodline. These natives of the far northern tundra were born with bodies far tougher than any human’s.
"You’ve got some nerve!" The mutant orc had been snatched away, and the young Grand Mage was furious. He didn’t stop to consider whether he could handle a mage who could seize an orc from dozens of meters away...
All he knew was that this person had attacked him and ruined the task his teacher had assigned.
Blinded by rage, the young Grand Mage raised his staff and muttered an incantation. Instantly, three Ice Lances ripped through the air with a piercing shriek.
"Hmm?" At the sound of the lances slicing through the air, Leon snorted coldly. He didn’t move at all, simply glanced at the three Ice Lances from afar.
But with just that single glance, the magical energy in the area suddenly surged...
Then, the young Grand Mage’s face twisted in shock. He watched as the three lightning-fast Ice Lances came to an abrupt halt in midair...
"Do you realize your Earthquake spell just interrupted me—and cost me a breakthrough?"
"Is that so?" The three Ice Lances’ strange pause had left the young Grand Mage pale with fright, but he refused to back down. "So what if I interrupted you? I don’t have time to care about that!"
"Is that so..." Leon shook his head, not bothering to say another word.
A sharp whistling sound rang out again...
The three Ice Lances spun in midair and shot back at an unimaginable speed. So fast, in fact, that the young Grand Mage couldn’t even scream before his own Ice Lances pierced his chest...
"You... you..." The young Grand Mage stood there, blood gushing from his wounds, his face full of disbelief. He stared at Leon and stammered twice before finally collapsing to the ground...
"Matthew Merlin!" At that moment, Grandmaster Fran stepped down from the carriage.
And saw the whole scene unfold before his eyes.