Chapter 845: Renunciation of Magic
No matter how powerful the spell, not a single one could harm him. Within the torrent of magic, he could wield his Thunderbolt Spear and move freely. But now, faced with a mere swamp, he was utterly helpless.
Usually, he could withstand Detonation spells head-on—at worst, his heavy armor would be scorched in places, easily repaired. But now, those same spells had become death sentences.
Each time a Detonation landed, his body sank a little deeper into the swamp... and the hopelessness grew.
The deeper he sank into the mire, the weaker he became.
At first, he could still stir up waves of mud throughout the swamp. But now, even with all his strength, his struggles only made the swamp tremble slightly.
You can't kill me! If you do, you're finished. Not just you—your family, your friends, everyone will face the fury of the entire Caucasus Battlemage army!
When I came here, everyone knew—yes, everyone knew I was coming to Viperfog Valley, coming to kill you. If you kill me, you're done for.
I'm the most gifted Battlemage in the Caucasus. My teacher is the Legion Commander of the Caucasus. If you kill me, my teacher and the entire Caucasus Battlemage legion will avenge me. Then you'll be dead for sure.
You're strong, but not everyone in your family is as powerful as you. Let me go, and I'll tell you who hired me to kill you. I'll pretend none of this ever happened. I swear I won't seek revenge..."
Kempes clung to his Thunderbolt Spear, desperately fending off Detonation spells, screaming and begging for mercy. He could feel it now—his mana was draining away. The deeper he sank, the faster it vanished, as if an endless abyss below were pulling him down, bit by bit.
That despair gnawed at him like poison, corroding his heart. He could even feel the Venom Mist starting to eat away at his body. If this went on, death was inevitable...
Leon sneered coldly at Kempes. The Caucasus Battlemages were powerful, but now one was dying beneath a Devouring Mire. Power isn't everything—raw strength can bring disaster, not just might. A brainless fool with Sky Rank power can't wield it properly.
The Detonation spells kept falling, like hammers driving Kempes—this stubborn nail—deeper into the Devouring Mire. Within seconds, only his hands and head remained above the surface...
Kempes's face was ghostly pale, drenched in cold sweat. Gone was his pride—only terror remained.
He could clearly feel his mana draining faster and faster, and as it did, the mire grew larger, its suction stronger. The power he prided himself on was useless here, and even his stamina was fading rapidly.
Once the Devouring Mire swallowed him whole, he'd be no different from an ordinary man—suffocating to death in the darkness. For someone so strong, it was the most humiliating way to die.
Kempes screamed for mercy, but Leon didn't react. Why had the reclusive Caucasus Battlemages come here—and even joined the assault?
Leon didn't hesitate to strike. At first, he'd thought Kempes was just provoking him because of the Caucasus Battlemages' grudge against Auckland. For the sake of the former King of the Caucasus, he considered sparing Kempes with a lesson.
But who would've thought this guy would be so brazen, trying to rob and kill without a word? There was nothing left to consider—he deserved to die.
Seconds later, Kempes was utterly stunned—his head tilted back, with only his mouth and nostrils above the mire, most of his face already submerged.
As the last Detonation spell fell, Kempes gave in to utter despair.
Just then, a bolt of lightning shot in from the distance, striking the blue fireball. Flame and thunder exploded together, like a thunderclap out of nowhere.
Two figures raced closer from afar. A streak of black light shot toward Leon's face.
Leon frowned. He wasn't Hubert—trick shots like these were pointless against him.
In an instant, Leon vanished in a burst of Flame Blink, reappearing a dozen meters away. The black streak blasted into a hillside hundreds of meters off, erupting with a deafening boom. The slope was left with a crater dozens of meters wide, and dust and debris billowed skyward.
A moment later, a figure in heavy armor appeared before Leon, crackling with lightning. Suddenly, a massive spear—over ten meters long and nearly a meter thick—materialized in his hands, shrouded in lightning, and swung fiercely at Leon.
Leon used Flame Blink to leap into the sky, tossing a Detonation spell at Kempes in the mire below.
Sure enough, the gigantic lightning-covered spear halted mid-swing. The armored figure hovered above the Devouring Mire, swiping his black, lightning-shaped spear at the Detonation spell. The trailing blue flames were shattered with brute force.
Only then did the massive spear's phantom fade away, its terrifying shockwave sweeping across a hundred meters, pulverizing stone and gouging half a meter from the earth.
The figure grabbed Kempes's hand and shouted. The Devouring Mire shook violently as the Caucasus Battlemage yanked Kempes out—the mire's suction couldn't resist his monstrous strength.
With a thunderous roar, the raging Devouring Mire exploded, and the muddy ground quickly solidified, turning back into ordinary earth.
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The figure drifted to the ground and casually slapped the mud-soaked, terrified Kempes across the face.
"Idiot! A Caucasus Battlemage, nearly killed by a swamp—you've disgraced me. When we get back, go to Thunderstrike Peak for three months. If you can't mine a thousand pounds of Thunderstrike Ore, don't come down. Stand aside and watch how I deal with these bastard mages!"
Kempes, though slapped, was overjoyed. Gritting his teeth, he pointed at Leon and roared.
"Teacher Daryl, that man has a way to resist the Venom Mist! We can't let him escape. If we get that method, we can keep exploring Viperfog Valley!"
Daryl was shocked. He glanced at Leon and saw that the Venom Mist truly didn't harm him—when it touched his skin, it simply slid off, as if meeting ordinary stone, with no reaction at all.
"Hahaha, wonderful! Our exploration of Viperfog Valley has stalled for ages. Who would've thought there was a way to resist the poison here? Now we can finally venture deeper..."
Daryl laughed heartily, looking satisfied as he clapped Kempes on the shoulder.
"Kempes, you truly are my disciple. Well done—your teacher misjudged you. This time, you've made a great contribution."
Daryl turned to Leon, face full of arrogance.
"Mage, I'll give you a chance. Hand over the method to resist the Venom Mist, and I'll let you live—if you sever your own mana. The matter of you harming my disciple, I'll let go. The insult to the dignity of the Caucasus Battlemages, I'll let go too. Well?"
Kempes quickly added, "My teacher is the Legion Commander of the Caucasus—a true powerhouse. He keeps his word. Hand over the method and sever your mana, and I'll let the past go."
Leon couldn't help but laugh.
"You really are teacher and student—saying exactly the same thing. Seems like, except for the former King of the Caucasus, Jason Vagran, the rest of the Caucasus Battlemages are useless. No lie there..."
Daryl roared, "Bastard! How dare you speak the great King of the Caucasus's name—you’re dead! No one will spare you today!"
Just then, another Caucasus Battlemage appeared, his face covered in tattoos. The old man wore only oily leather armor, not heavy plate, and his Thunderbolt Spear was unlike any other.
But Leon frowned. The old man looked half in the grave, yet he was a Ninth-Rank Title Archmage—his aura was obscure and steady, stronger than most at his rank. The Venom Mist couldn't even approach within a meter of him.
The Seer...
The Caucasus Seer—the inheritor of all Caucasus magic, holding a special place among the Battlemages. If the Caucasus valued magic over physical combat, the Seer would be as revered as those in the orc tribes.
Even in Auckland, the Caucasus Seer is called the only true sage among the 'barbarian' tribes. No one looks down on the Seer, even if they scorn the Battlemages.
One reason is that the Caucasus Seer is one of the few in the Highlands who opposes war. He believes the era of the King of the Caucasus has passed, and peace with Auckland is best for strengthening the Battlemages—not endless war.
After the Seer appeared, he stood silently in the distance. Leon frowned—two Ninth-Rank Title Archmages, and one was the enigmatic Caucasus Seer. If they made a move, things would get tricky...
While Leon was still pondering, Daryl struck first.