Mage's Profound Truths

Chapter 40: Taking Action (Part Two)

Angus finally made his move. He was incredibly fast, and his greatsword shimmered with a white light, striking out like a venomous snake directly at Old Wilson.

“Hiss!”

A flash of white light fiercely slashed across Old Wilson’s black armor, slicing it open and drawing a trickle of crimson blood from within.

Old Wilson staggered back a few steps. He reached out to touch the wound, eyes narrowing slightly as he locked his gaze on Angus.

This suit of armor of his had been forged over three years using the sturdiest materials available, capable of withstanding nearly any weapon—even a typical third-level Elemental Swordsman would struggle to break it.

It was precisely because of this that he could fight Querro and Lero, two third-level Light Swordsmen, to a standstill, the armor playing no small role in that.

But now, this armor could no longer effectively shield Old Wilson from enemy attacks. From Angus’s very first move, Old Wilson had sensed a powerful threat—the kind he had once seen in the “Slaughterhouse,” from those terrifying beings nearly at the fourth level.

There were significant differences among Elemental Swordsmen. Levels one to three were considered low-tier, levels four to six mid-tier, and levels seven to nine high-tier.

Thus, the leap from third to fourth level, though only a single level in name, was actually a major breakthrough, with a massive difference in strength.

The Angus before him was at the threshold between third and fourth level, nearly at the fourth—immensely powerful. Even Old Wilson, with his extraordinary talent and nearly impenetrable armor, could hardly match him.

“Looks like I won’t be escaping this today... Tell me—why is the Church targeting me?”

Old Wilson stuck out his tongue and gently licked his cracked lips, his expression twisted as he asked. By now, he had long figured out that these people were no thieves—they were clearly sent by the Church of Light!

Angus raised his greatsword and gripped the hilt with both hands, saying coolly, “Even if I told you now, it would mean nothing... Querro, Lero—attack!”

Though Angus was stronger than Old Wilson, he still didn’t underestimate him. He called on Querro and Lero to join in, ensuring absolute certainty.

“Boom!”

A thunderous explosion suddenly rang out. Countless scarlet flames burst forth and spread, carrying the stench of scorched flesh as they drifted on the wind.

“What’s going on?”

Angus frowned and turned his gaze toward the source of the disturbance.

※※※

“Explode.”

With a low shout from Merlin, two fireballs exploded mid-flight, barely half a meter away from the nearest bandit.

The fireballs Merlin cast contained terrifying heat. Though only the size of a fist, they were made from countless fire elements compressed repeatedly until they reached that size.

A fireball of that size could melt fine steel armor. Once it exploded, the scattered flames could cause devastating harm to anyone nearby.

Let alone now, when two fireballs exploded at once. The charging bandits were caught off guard and blown away. Even the two second-level Light Swordsmen at the front were unprepared, hurled by the blast and slammed hard into the ground—survival seemed unlikely.

This sudden change stunned many. Merlin looked toward where Old Wilson was—besieged by three third-level Light Swordsmen and in dire straits. So, Merlin began walking straight toward him.

“Heretic! He’s a heretic from the evil Blackmoon Kingdom!”

Finally, someone recognized Merlin's identity, and they began screaming in panic.

“Blasphemous heretic who defies the gods!”

A Level-Two Light Swordsman shouted angrily, and his entire body was soon enveloped in intense white radiance. Holding a greatsword, he charged from behind Merlin.

“Fireball!”

Without turning his head, Merlin released a fireball directly behind him, as his spiritual power clearly sensed the approaching threat.

“Sssst.”

The fireball moved so fast that only a faint trail of crimson was seen before it slammed hard into the Light Swordsman’s chest.

The chest plate on the Light Swordsman's armor couldn’t resist the fireball and melted instantly, as the fireball blasted a bloody hole into his chest.

“Thud.”

Before the Light Swordsman could even get close to Merlin, he collapsed to the ground, black smoke still curling from his chest.

“I can cast the Greater Fireball now!”

Merlin noticed that the gray bar in his consciousness representing Greater Fireball had turned red, which meant he was now capable of casting it.

Thanks to continuous meditation lately, Merlin's spiritual power had advanced greatly, allowing him to control fireballs with exceptional precision—far faster than when he was in Blackwater City.

Such is the benefit of strong spiritual power—it makes control over spells increasingly precise.

After killing that Level-Two Light Swordsman, Merlin looked around at the surrounding bandits. All their faces were filled with fear, and none dared approach.

Heretics represented evil, cruelty, and mysterious powers! Now that they had witnessed Merlin casting spells, they were overwhelmed and dared not advance.

Thousands of bandits were actually intimidated by Merlin alone. Looking around, Merlin felt increasingly confident—this was his first time feeling truly powerful.

“Spellcasters are truly the ones who wield the greatest power in the world!”

Merlin recalled a quote from Old Etta’s spell notes describing spellcasters—and now it felt incredibly apt.

With no one daring to block him, Merlin quickly reached Old Wilson’s side and gently supported the injured old man, then looked coldly at the three men in golden masks.

“Father, leave it to me.”

“A spellcaster... I didn’t expect to encounter one here. Even if you're only an entry-level caster, you’re not someone we can handle easily. Pity we didn’t bring any archers—otherwise, dealing with a novice caster would have been no problem.”

Wearing his mask, Angus let out a long sigh, his voice tinged with faint unwillingness.