Chapter 192: The Giant Hand and the Frost Spear
Darren's words could not have been clearer...
"Whoever brought you in, they're the one responsible..."
Salomon didn't even need to think to know that the "who" in Darren's words obviously meant himself.
The problem was, Salomon knew that the real "who" was actually Joey...
So Salomon said nothing, simply waited patiently. He was waiting for Darren to realize that the 'who' was actually Joey—and to see if Darren would still make Joey take responsibility.
Unfortunately, Darren still didn't know anything at this point. He was eagerly waiting for the young Grand Mage to stir up trouble—preferably dragging Salomon into the mess. Then, he'd see if Joey would still treat Salomon kindly...
"Magus Darren, as you said, this is a gathering of the Order of the Arcane Hand, not the Ashen Tower. So I don't quite understand, Magus Darren—what right do you have to make me leave?"
"Heh..." Darren saw the reaction and knew he'd almost succeeded. Young people are always so impatient...
Think about it—if I didn't even have the right to kick you out, would I stand here wasting my breath on you? If it were Salomon, that old fox, he wouldn't have asked such a childish question. Salomon would have immediately sized up the situation and found a way to leave with his dignity intact.
That's the right choice...
Instead of shouting at me—what's the point? The more you make a scene now, the more embarrassing it'll be later. Not just for yourself, but for Salomon, for Joey...
But unfortunately, young people never understand the wisdom of retreating to advance. Life has been too easy for them, and it's made them arrogant, forgetting where they come from. Seriously, what does a fifth-tier Grand Mage count for here? Forget the top members of the Order of the Arcane Hand—even Salomon, a ninth-tier Magus, is standing quietly on the sidelines.
"Grand Mage Merlin, it seems you really insist on disrupting this gathering..."
When Darren said this, he wore a faint smile, but otherwise looked no different than usual. Even Salomon, standing nearby, was waiting to see his old rival make a fool of himself...
"Hm?" But in that instant, Leon suddenly sensed a subtle, almost imperceptible distortion in the magical currents around him, and his guard went up.
Sure enough, just as Leon's brows furrowed, Darren's hand shot out...
There was no warning at all...
All Leon felt was a suffocating surge of magic. Before he could react, Darren's pale, slender right hand swelled in his vision, growing impossibly huge. With a heavy rush of wind, it came crashing down on Leon—like swatting an ant...
This is the power of a ninth-tier Magus...
No spells needed—just a hand formed of pure mana was enough to crush an ordinary fifth-tier Grand Mage.
Luckily, Leon was no ordinary fifth-tier Grand Mage...
Almost as the giant hand came down, Leon had already conjured an Ice Wall. There was a muffled boom, followed by the sharp crackling of ice. In an instant, the square, steel-hard Ice Wall was smashed to pieces by the giant hand, sending shards flying for dozens of meters in every direction.
The whole thing happened in a flash—from Darren's smile to Leon's shattered Ice Wall, it took only a few seconds. Everything unfolded in a burst of magical speed, so fast even Salomon couldn't react.
And yet, in those few seconds, after casting Ice Wall, Leon managed another spell: Elemental Incarnation. His entire body became a ghostly blue frost elemental, twisting through the flying shards of ice in a way that defied all logic—forcing his way out...
"Trying to run?" Darren's palm crashed down, but all he saw was a sky full of shattered ice—no blood. He knew his target had escaped. Still, Darren showed no surprise or panic. Before his giant hand even hit the floor, he spun and snatched at the frost elemental with the speed of a hawk grabbing a chick...
Darren was a ninth-tier Magus, after all...
He'd long since mastered spells like Elemental Incarnation. Darren knew all about the frost elemental's fatal flaw—its slow movement. So he didn't hesitate, just let out a cold snort and sent his giant hand straight for the elemental...
How naive—to think turning into a frost elemental could help you stand against a ninth-tier Magus. The gap in power is simply too vast. It's like a grown soldier versus a newborn baby; even if the baby tries its hardest, it's just tickling the soldier.
Of course, considering the connection to Joey, Darren didn't use his full strength. Otherwise, this grab could've easily killed his opponent outright.
Leon, now a frost elemental, flickered twice across the banquet hall—each time covering more than ten meters. But Darren's giant, mana-forged hand shot out like lightning, and in the blink of an eye, it had enveloped Leon's elemental form...
All it would take was a gentle squeeze to snuff Leon out—like crushing an ant...
(Irrelevant system prompt—skip translation.)
But just as the hand was about to close, a sudden burst of light flared in the shadows...
"Damn it..." Darren grunted. His giant, mana-forged hand instantly dissolved in the air. Embedded in his palm was a shattered shard of ice, and a drop of blood slowly trickled down its fractured edge...
It was the Frost Spear!
In that impossible moment, Leon had somehow conjured a Frost Spear, piercing through Darren's giant mana-forged hand—and even wounding Darren himself.
For a fifth-tier Grand Mage, that level of spellcasting was simply astonishing...
Darren could hardly believe it—a twenty-something fifth-tier Grand Mage able to cast Frost Spear under such circumstances.
No, no, no—it wasn't just that he managed to cast Frost Spear...
Darren hadn't even checked his wound when a bone-chilling cold swept through the hall. He looked up in shock to see the young Grand Mage standing with arms outstretched, dozens—hundreds—of Frost Spears glittering under the banquet lights.
"Impossible!" Darren's face went deathly pale. That many Frost Spears—in elemental form, no less—should be impossible to conjure in an instant. Was it some powerful magical artifact?
But there was no time for Darren to ponder...
A furious howling filled the air as hundreds of Frost Spears whipped through the hall like a rainstorm, each one carrying a biting chill...
The shrill sound of spears tearing through the air was relentless.
Darren fought with everything he had, finally conjuring a runic shield. A dazzling, multicolored barrier shimmered as countless runes floated across its surface—runes he'd spent decades accumulating, powerful enough to make any Grand Mage despair.
But in this moment, facing hundreds of Frost Spears, Darren felt his confidence waver for the first time...
He even worried he might not withstand the assault...
A ninth-tier Magus, actually worried about surviving an attack from a fifth-tier Grand Mage.
If this had happened before, even if Joey himself told Darren, Darren would've laughed in his face without hesitation.
But now, Darren was genuinely worried...
Hundreds of Frost Spears hammered Darren's runic shield, the relentless barrage sounding like a downpour against stone...
In just ten seconds, every single Frost Spear had struck the shield. But to Darren, those ten seconds felt like ten years...
Not knowing the outcome—that was pure torture for Darren.
Even after the last Frost Spear shattered, Darren didn't dare open his eyes, terrified he'd see a spear lodged in his chest...
Time ticked by. The entire banquet hall fell silent—nothing but Darren's heavy breathing broke the stillness.
Who knows how long it was before Darren finally opened his eyes...
"Thank goodness... I'm fine..." Darren felt a rush of relief, like a survivor after a disaster. It didn't feel like he'd just fought a fifth-tier Grand Mage—it felt like he'd escaped a Title Magus.
"Well, Magus Darren, do you still think you can throw me out?" By now, Leon had shed his frost elemental form, holding an unused Frost Spear just ten meters from Darren—with a smile.
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(Author's note: Still three chapters today. The last one might be after midnight, but I'll keep writing until I drop!)