Chapter 688: Spellmark
Each time a spell was successfully cast, the spellmark would dim, noticeably more so than the others. Meanwhile, another spellmark on the Dark Elf’s skin would light up again.
This was the cooldown period for Dark Elf spellcasting. Only when the cooldown ended and the spellmark lit up again could the same spell be cast once more.
Only by deepening one’s understanding of a spell could the cooldown be shortened. For some low-level spells, there was almost no cooldown at all.
It’s similar to how humans need casting time for spells, but once their mastery grows, they can cast spells instantly. Low-level spells can be cast instantly too, sometimes even a dozen at once.
Dark Elves don’t need incantation time to cast spells. Their innate spellmarks allow them to instantly cast any spell they’ve learned. Some low-level spells can be fired off in rapid succession—as long as their mana holds out, they can keep casting for ten or even thirty minutes straight. With just a single low-level spell, they can achieve effects comparable to high-level magic.
Especially when a Dark Elf’s mastery of a spell deepens, not only does the spellmark’s cooldown shrink, but the spell’s power increases dramatically. Once a spell is mastered to its limit, the spellmark transforms into an Ultimate Rune, and the spell itself becomes an ultimate spell.
The Dark Elves before them were mostly casting low-level spells, yet each one packed nearly the punch of an ultimate spell. A first-level Wind Blade, in their hands, hit as hard as a third-level spell!
And casting Wind Blade was effortless for any Dark Elf here—they could throw out seven or eight blades in a second, each one hitting with an extra tier of power. Some even matched the force of an ultimate spell!
That’s why, once they realized they were facing Dark Elves, Anderson and Leon’s expressions soured.
A Dark Elf’s combat prowess was never about rank—it was all about the spellmarks. If even a handful of Dark Elves mastered a sixth-level spell, turned it into a spellmark, and then pushed that spell to its absolute limit, transforming it into an Ultimate Rune... that spelled real trouble.
Ultimate Runes were the Dark Elves’ greatest trump card.
Leon’s Sage’s Chapter could, at best, store fourth-level spells and boost them to sixth-level, turning them into ultimate spells. Ever since he obtained the Sage’s Chapter, those limit spells had helped him immensely. It’s just that the Sage’s Chapter wasn’t keeping pace with his own rank anymore.
So for now, the Sage’s Chapter was left idle.
These Dark Elves basically came equipped with a watered-down version of the Sage’s Chapter. Every spell cast through a spellmark packed more punch than usual—and they could push any spell to its limit.
In the desolate library of the apocalypse, Leon had once seen a record: Back in Northend’s golden age, when countless planes were conquered, a Dark Elf tribe was discovered during the conquest of a new plane atop the Cloudspire Tower.
This tribe numbered only a few hundred, and their strongest member was just a ninth-level Title Archmage. In fact, there were barely a dozen Title Archmages among them.
Back then, Title Archmages were as common as stray dogs, and ordinary Heavenly Mages roamed everywhere. So, a tribe like that barely warranted a second glance—surprising, maybe, but hardly worth anyone’s attention.
After all, the expedition was led by a fifth-level Heavenly Mage, two third-level Heavenly Mages, and more than thirty ninth-level Title Archmages who were just a step away from Sky Rank...
With such overwhelming power, they felt free to discuss capturing a few Dark Elves for research—never once worrying about resistance.
But reality slapped them hard. Cloudspire Tower suffered its most humiliating defeat ever.
A fifth-level Heavenly Mage, two third-level Heavenly Mages, plus dozens of ninth-level Title Archmages—all dead...
All wiped out in a single move by a ninth-level Title Archmage Dark Elf.
Cloudspire Tower, furious, sent their top Heavenly Mages to find out what had caused such a maddening defeat.
That ninth-level Title Archmage Dark Elf was the most gifted in their history. Her understanding of magic went far beyond racial talent, pushing the Dark Elf’s innate magic to unthinkable heights.
As a ninth-level Title Archmage, she accomplished the impossible—she mastered an eighth-level spell to its absolute limit, forming an Ultimate Rune...
Normally, the strongest spell a Title Archmage could cast was eighth-level, but even then, it was just barely manageable.
Cumbersome incantations, long chanting times, sometimes even hand gestures or a staff were needed—only then could the spell succeed.
In a balanced fight, almost no Title Archmage ever had a chance to cast an eighth-level spell. Casting a seventh-level spell was already pushing it.
So, in battle, Title Archmages mostly relied on fifth- or sixth-level spells, or even lower, winning through quantity or skill.
Really, all mages in battle rely on flexible, lower-level spells—the ones they can wield with ease are always the best choice.
Take Leon, for example. In a fight, he rarely uses his highest-level spells. It’s smart tactics and perfect spell control that win the day—not just spell rank.
That’s why, throughout Northend’s history, no mage has ever mastered their most powerful spell to its absolute limit...
There’s just never enough time, never enough possibility...
As a Grand Mage, you couldn’t possibly master a sixth-level spell to its limit. As a Title Archmage, mastering an eighth-level spell to its limit was equally impossible.
Just like Leon—while still a Grand Mage, he’d already mastered several first- and second-level spells to their limit. That alone was an extraordinary achievement.
So when that ninth-level Title Archmage Dark Elf instantly cast an eighth-level spell—at its absolute limit...
There was nothing left to say...
An eighth-level spell, Devouring Darkness, unleashed the power of a tenth-level spell. Three Heavenly Mages and dozens of Title Archmages couldn’t even resist—they were swallowed by endless darkness, their souls obliterated...
One move. Instant annihilation.
When Leon first read that account, he didn’t believe it—until he found a vague note in a Cloudspire Tower mage’s journal, confirming it for good.
The sheer power of limit spells had Leon chasing after that strength even in the apocalypse. Spend the mana for a first-level spell, unleash the force of a third-level one—in a world where even meditation meant risking your life in the Voidstorm, that was the ultimate advantage.
For a while, Leon figured the Dark Elves vanished because their talent was just too overwhelming—everyone envied them.
So, the moment Leon realized the ambushers were Dark Elves—and saw their low-level spells hitting almost as hard as limit spells—his hair stood on end.
If any of these Dark Elves happened to be a Title Archmage who’d mastered a seventh- or eighth-level spell to its absolute limit, then what’s the point of fighting? May as well just wait for death...
With the kind of talent these Dark Elves had, pulling off something so outrageous wasn’t all that unlikely...
You never know...
So when Leon recognized these Dark Elves, he was genuinely hoping for a peaceful chat. No need for a fight to the death if it could be avoided.
Besides, getting on good terms with the locals in Constantine’s Dominion might make searching for Constantine’s Skull a whole lot easier. The Tree of Wisdom was just too massive—climbing to the top could take ages, and who knows what dangers lurked within...
Even Anderson, who’d been gritting his teeth at the Dark Elves, shut up and backed down right away. He knew perfectly well—if there was even one real monster among those Dark Elves, they were all doomed...
Those ordinary Dark Elves—about level thirty—had Leon watching them closely from the moment they appeared. What he saw finally let him breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
With the Mana Harness analyzing magical auras, Leon confirmed that most of these legion mages did possess limit spells. But for the majority, it was just first- or second-level spells; only a handful had third-level Ultimate Runes.
Pinned down, Leon and his group could only keep defending. Leon didn’t strike back right away—he could tell these Dark Elves weren’t out to kill them all, just to keep them suppressed.
Sure enough, the mass of Dark Elves kept advancing, but stopped fifty meters short of Leon. Spells still flew, but two distinctly different Dark Elves stepped forward.
One was a male Dark Elf, nearly two meters tall, slender and strikingly handsome. Two Flame Spellmarks adorned his face, while four delicate wooden studs pierced his ears.
Those four wooden studs meant he’d mastered a fourth-level limit spell.
The other was a female Dark Elf, about one-seventy tall, with a green Crown Rune on her forehead like a regal diadem. Five exquisite wooden studs in her ears marked her as a wielder of a fifth-level limit spell!