Chapter 439: Something Inside the Body
Dalson wiped the cold sweat from his brow, but before he could speak, a surge of violent magic erupted, spreading across the vast expanse of the Eleventh Floor of the Wizard's Spire...
His heart sank abruptly. In his panic, his throat moved but no sound came out.
The Doombringer Staff in Leon's hand burst forth with dazzling light in an instant, its searing aura flooding every corner. At the same time, a dozen Fireblast spells, trailing long tails of flame like fiery rays, shot straight toward Solan Monty...
Then, a piercing scream echoed through the air.
Solan Monty was sent flying, crashing hard against the pristine white wall. Dalson saw that despite being a Title Archmage of the fifth rank, Solan Monty hadn't managed to use any defensive magic in time. The young mage's sudden assault left his mage robes scorched to tatters, and the skin across his chest was ripped open by the searing Fireblast spells. Blood streamed from the savage wounds—so gruesome that anyone weaker than Solan Monty would have died on the spot...
Although Solan Monty survived, his aura was now utterly depleted! At this point, even a random Archmage could easily finish him off.
It was clear just how grave his wounds were...
Neither Dalson nor Solan Monty had expected Leon, who seemed to have compromised, to suddenly strike—not just as a warning, but with lethal intent.
No matter how sturdy the defensive spells of a fifth-rank Title Archmage, flesh and blood are still flesh and blood. To take the full brunt of a dozen Fireblast spells is no small feat. The fact that Solan Monty wasn't killed instantly is, in itself, a stroke of luck.
A wave of bone-chilling cold swept through the room. Dalson watched in horror as the young mage summoned four Frost Spears, hurling them with a sudden, violent motion. The air split with a sharp "crack," and the spears struck almost instantly. A faint, agonized scream echoed. Dalson gasped at the gruesome sight—Solan Monty was pinned to the wall, his entire body impaled.
All four limbs were pierced by the Frost Spears, blood pouring from the wounds and staining half the wall red within seconds.
Dalson felt a chill seep into his bones, cold sweat trickling down his back. His mage’s robe was soaked through, clinging uncomfortably to his skin…
He didn’t dare say another word now…
Because he sensed that the young mage standing before him was no longer as approachable as he once seemed.
Truthfully, whether Solan Monty lived or died had nothing to do with him. Of all the people to provoke, he chose Matthew Merlin. If he died, he had it coming.
"You won’t die this time…" Leon’s voice was cold as ice. "I just want to see what exactly is inside your body…"
Leon slowly walked up to the wall, his gaze sweeping over Solan Monty’s battered form. Though Solan Monty was gravely wounded, some awareness lingered—he trembled at Leon’s words, his throat working, but no sound escaped.
Back on the Eleventh Floor of the Wizard’s Spire, when he encountered Solan Monty again, the man’s strength had soared to that of a fifth-level Title Archmage. Even then, Leon had noticed something off—an anomaly that might be the key to Solan Monty’s sudden rise in power…
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to pinpoint what those anomalies were at the time.