Chapter 72: Chapter 9
Forcefully expanding his mana pool using the high-grade mana stone took several hours. By the time Lark was done, it was already midnight.
Lark looked at himself in the mirror. His naked body was flushed and filled with sweat, with steam rising here and there. He could feel his muscles screaming, his heart pounding loudly. Thankfully, his trained body was now capable of handling the rebound from forcefully expanding his mana pool. If it were half a year ago, he would have died in an instant. Lark breathed in and out. He stabilized the erratic flow of mana inside his body, condensing them into a single point. He clenched his fists. Right now, his mana pool was almost comparable to that of Austen's. It should be possible to cast a Grand Scale Magic or two. Lark donned a black cloak and a black mask. He jumped through the open window of the inn and disappeared into the night. As he was heading to the Tower of Magic, Lark felt a presence following him. It was the same person who followed their group from Blackstone Town. How long are you going to follow us?
A bit annoyed, Lark cast concealment magic on his body. He blended perfectly into the night. The one pursuing him stopped in its tracks. Right now, it was still carefully maintaining its distance. Now, let's see who you are.
Lark's pursuer started moving again, towards the place where Lark's presence first disappeared. Still under concealment magic, Lark soon saw him. A man in his middle fifties. His black hair had occasional strands of white, his muscular jaw filled with scars. Underneath his worn-out cloak, Lark could make out his well-toned body. He looked like a serf, but the aura he was forcefully trying to suppress was that of a strong fighter. Someone who had taken numerous lives before. Was he an assassin? A spy? Lark had yet to find out. Lark patiently waited in the dark, his body completely concealed by his magic. The man looked around, frowning. He was probably surprised that he lost Lark completely. Who are you?
Lark firmed his foot on the ground, and in the blink of an eye, shot himself towards the man. He pulled his sword out of the scabbard and slashed at the man. To his surprise, the man twisted his body to the side at the last moment, then leapt backwards.
Lark almost whistled. There were no unnecessary movements from the man. Although he was taken by surprise, he managed to evade the attack by intuition alone. It went to show the massive experience the man had in the battlefield. "Who are you?" said Lark. He was currently wearing a cloak and a mask, but this person was still following him. "Just a random passerby," the man shrugged.
"Stop the crap." Lark's blade reflected the moonlight. Thankfully, there were no passersby in this particular street right now. "If you don't tell me, I'll make you spit it out."
The man took out a short sword inside his cloak. Despite being suddenly cornered like this, he remained calm and stoic. Silence befell the two. They simply stared at each other, gauging even the subtlest movements of their opponent. A cold breeze blew, and as though it was the signal, their blades clashed, creating sparks with each strike. He's skilled.
It took several more exchanges before Lark realized that the man was on par with him in terms of swordsmanship. He was a lot weaker than Sword Saint Alexander, but his skills with the sword was good enough to keep Lark at bay. "A knight?" said Lark. He noticed that the man flinched. It was probably spot on. Sparks flew as the two exchanged strikes with each other. A bit annoyed, Lark finally decided to channel mana into his sword, sharpening its blade several folds. He planned on destroying his opponent's weapon in a single instance and end the fight. But to his surprise, mana also enveloped the man's sword. This made it possible for him to parry Lark's attack. Lark frowned. If pure swordsmanship wouldn't work, then he had no choice but to resort to magic. Three magic circles formed around them – one on the ground and two in the sky. The man's eyes widened upon realizing that Lark was casting magic while fending off his attacks. It was a seemingly impossible feat, especially considering the fact that what he used was chantless magic. Sensing that things were becoming dangerous, the man channeled a large portion of his mana into his sword and struck at Lark. Lark temporarily felt his hands going numb from impact, his feet skidding on the ground. Lark's spells were almost complete when the man suddenly took out a scroll from his cloak and quickly tore it open. "You really can't trust rumors," said the man. "I mean no harm. Forgive me for this insolence of mine."
The torn scroll turned into blinding particles of light. Lark momentarily closed his eyes, his senses expanded to its utmost limit to parry any incoming attacks. By the time the particles of blinding light dissipated, the man could no longer be found. Although Lark could still feel the man's presence, it was getting fainter by each passing moment. "He ran away," mumbled Lark. He wiped a bead of sweat on his forehead. Were all knights as strong as that one? Lark wanted to find out. That man was skilled. It would have been a stalemate if they fought with just swordsmanship alone. Unfortunately, he escaped, and Lark had no way of finding out the truth of the matter. He remembered the words uttered by the man before he escaped. You really can't trust rumors. I mean no harm. Forgive this insolence of mine.
Those words felt genuine, since during their fight, Lark did not feel an ounce of killing intent from that man. Then, a spy.
This was his current conclusion. A knight sent out to observe him. But for what? As far as Lark knew, he was a trash disowned by his own family. A vindictive moron thrown away to a faraway town. Was it from his father, the Duke? From a rival family? Or maybe… From the King.
He was among the candidates after all.
There were so many questions, but he held no answer. Lark sighed. He unsheathed his sword and looked up into the sky. The two moons were full tonight. It's a good warm up, I guess.
After stretching his neck for a bit, Lark made his way towards the center of the city – towards the Tower of Magic. Standing on top of a nearby building, Lark stared at the entrance below.
Two men wearing blue robes were standing guard by the entrance, and at the back of their robes was the insignia of a silver wing - the symbol of the Tower. Unlike the desolated street where Lark and the unknown man fought, this place was bustling with life. Numerous passersby filled the streets.
Carriages were also seen every now and then. Lark patiently waited for an opportunity to gather information regarding his prey. Eventually, a magician from the Tower left the building, his hand holding a bag. He was probably going to the Residential District.
When the man reached a dark and quiet street, Lark filled his fist with mana and stealthily struck the man's abdomen. His body lifted off the ground for a moment, vomitus flew out of his mouth, and his eyes rolled to the back.
That single strike made him lose consciousness on the spot. Lark caught the falling body and dragged it away into an alley. Several cats ran angrily meowed before scurrying away after seeing Lark. Lark place the body on the ground, and using magic, poured cold water on his face. The man twitched then coughed. He shook his head, sprinkling water around. His chest rose and fell in quick successions. "Awake?" Lark looked down at him. The man quickly sat up, his eyes filled with fear. "W-Who are you?"
Lark's black get-up probably instilled great fear within him. The man trembled upon realizing that they were currently alone in this alley.
"Answer my question and I'll let you go." Lark's face was concealed by a mask. There was a pause. The man gulped down. "A man with red hair, red eyes. A crescent scar runs across his eye." Lark's voice was ice cold. "Tell me where I can find him."
The man's pupils shook. Despite his wobbling legs, he slowly sat up. He breathed, "The Master of the Tower. The Grand Magician, Alecto. Why are you looking for him?"
Lark raised his brows. He had not expected to get an answer this easily.
What surprised him the most was that the person he was looking for was actually a bigshot in this city. He was such a revered magician that he was even given the title 'Grand Magician.' It was one of the several titles granted to his oldest disciple, Pollux. The magician who managed to live for almost a thousand years after Lark died. Being given the title of Grand Magician meant that his target was of considerable strength. Lark thought it was a good thing that he consumed the mana stones of the basilisks back in the inn. "Master of the Tower." Lark was in a monologue. "It makes everything easy then."
Without warning, Lark punched the man at the abdomen, immediately making him lose consciousness. The man plopped on the ground, unmoving. Lark left the alley and looked up. Even from here, the Tower of Magic stool tall, its tip seemed to be touching the clouds. He heard before while wandering around the city that the Master of the Tower loved high places. It was the reason why he insisted on building his castle so high. At this time of the night, there was a really high chance that Lark would meet him at the top. But it was not like there was a real need for him to go up just to meet the bastard. That tower would surely be filled with countless traps. If he forced his way to the top, he would be exhausted before even reaching the bastard. Lark decided to use the easier way to lure him out. Lark boldly walked towards the entrance of the Tower. As expected, the guards stopped him at the entrance. Lark's mask gave him a suspicious appearance. "Stop." One of the guards blocked his path. The other one stood behind his back. "State your purpose. Only those recognized by the Tower can ente—" Before the guards could even finish their statements, their faces were struck towards the ground, making loud thud sounds. "Scream. Make sure he comes out." The eyes behind the mask were filled with murderous intent. Lark formed a dagger using wind magic. It shot towards the shoulder of one of the men on the ground. The man screamed the moment the wind dagger pierced his flesh. "AAAAAHHH!" His scream made all the passersby halt in their tracks. They stared at the unfolded scenario for a moment, digesting everything in their sight. After several more seconds, a woman screamed, and this was followed by several others. "A fight!"
"Murderer!"
"Someone's trying to fight against the Tower's magicians!"
Panic swept through the crowd. Several people ran away, while some daredevils stood by and watched. Numerous lamps were lit as the sleeping residents woke up from the screams. Soon, numerous magicians wearing blue robes stormed out of the Tower's entrance. They became enraged upon seeing their comrades sprawled bleeding on the ground.
They were about to charge head-on and beat the masked intruder to a pulp, but their leader stopped them in their tracks. He spread out his right hand, signaling everyone to hold their ground. "Who are you?" said the leader of the group. Unfortunately, he was not the one Lark was looking for. "Why did you attack my men?"
Lark did not bother with pleasantries. Lightning shot out of his index finger and struck the leader right at the chest. Caught off-guard, the leader fell down on his knees, his vision turning black. Before he lost consciousness, he mumbled, "Chantless magic?"
The other magicians realized it too. This man shot that lightning spell in the blink of an eye. It was definitely chantless magic. It went to show that their opponent was no ordinary magician. After all, only their elite magicians were capable of that. Another lightning spell shot out of Lark's fingertips and struck a magician.
Like their leader, he fell down limp on the ground. Everyone broke out of their stupor. They immediately started chanting magic, while those adept in close range combat charged towards Lark. "God of fire, strike down my enemy. Become their bane!" "Will of the wind, cull those before me!"
"Guardian of valleys! Protect your master!"
Fire balls, wind blades, and a guardian golem were summoned in quick successions. By the time they had finished their incantations, Lark had already struck down two close combat magicians. He evaded a slash from the one on his left and retaliated with a kick at the abdomen then at the face.
Shards of ice formed around Lark and shot towards the close combat magicians. The scent of blood permeated the air as the citizens who remained to watch shouted in horror. Lark channeled mana through his sword and slashed at the fireball coming towards his direction. It was split in half and struck the ground behind Lark.
Several blades of wind flew towards him from the back. Lark bended his body and nimbly evaded each strike. A shadow loomed over him. Looking up, Lark saw a large fist made of stone shooting towards his face. Lark amplified his entire body with mana and caught the fist of the golem with his left hand. He clenched his other hand, and with the entire weight of his body punched the golem at the chest, sending rocks flying around upon impact. He quickly followed through with another punch at the face, blowing away half of the golem's head. The stone monster fell on its knees and stopped moving. Lark did not give time for his enemies to cast another spell. His body blurred as it shot towards them. His mana-amplified fists struck their bodies. Every time Lark moved, a magician from the Tower fell unconscious to the ground. This horrifying scene continued until only one magician was left. "Hiieeek!" A shout, which reminded Lark of a pig being slaughtered, escaped the magician's lips. He fell down on his butt as fluids came out between his thighs. His entire body was quivering as his pupils shook. The eyes looking at him behind the mask was cold. It was the eyes of someone who had taken numerous lives before. Lark summoned a dagger made of wind magic. He grabbed it and threw it towards the man's thigh. Blood spurted out and the man's agonized shout reverberated. Keep shouting.
Lark patiently waited for more magicians to come out of the Tower. Finally.
The magician he was looking for finally came out of the Tower. A man, probably in his late thirties, with red hair and red eyes. A characteristic crescent scar ran across his eye. Behind him were numerous magicians clad also in blue robes. By sight alone, the number of magicians who came out of the Tower's entrance easily surpassed a hundred. Purple robes?
There were six people wearing purple robes among the magicians, and Lark's target was among them. Alecto, the Master of the Tower of Magic, looked at the unconscious magicians sprawled on the ground. There were scorch marks here and there.
A broken stone golem was kneeling at a corner.
"Such a mess." One of the magicians wearing purple robe clicked his tongue. Alecto frowned. He glared at Lark. "Who are you?"
Those red eyes were looking at Lark as though he was some insect who did not know his place. The condescending air was so strong that there was no need for any more words. Lark did not reply. He gauged the strengths of the magicians gathered here.
As expected, those wearing purple robes were the strongest. Especially this bastard called Alecto. "This bastard dares to—" One of the magicians was infuriated when Lark simply ignored Alecto's question. Alecto raised his hand. "Enough."
Alecto frowned. Peculiarly, he could not feel any mana from this magician.
It was as though he was a commoner, someone who never used magic before in his life. This meant only one thing: this man's degree of control over mana was so outstanding that even he, the Master of the Tower, was unable to feel it. This man was dangerous. This was the conclusion Alecto came to. "Why did you attack our magicians?" Alecto temporarily suppressed his desire to tear the masked intruder into shreds. Moments passed. A small grin formed on the intruder's lips. He said, "I'm here to return a favor."
Alecto and the other magicians were puzzled. Lark pointed at Alecto. "You're the ruler of this city, right? How about this?
Why don't the two of us have a one-on-one fight?"
"I have the advantage in number," Alecto smirked. "As strong as I am, I don't see merit in doing a one-on-one fight."
Lark chuckled. Although Alecto looked stupid, it seemed that he was not one to fall in such provocation. "You don't understand." Mana started oozing out of Lark's body. The magicians behind Alecto shuddered upon witnessing this. The amount was colossal, definitely comparable to the Elders of the Magic Tower. "I proposed this to prevent the collapse of this city. It'll be hard to govern Wizzert if all your magicians become crippled, wouldn't it?"
A fifty-meter large magic circle manifested itself underneath Lark's feet.
The ground started to rumble as the magic circle continuously sucked mana from Lark's body. The radius of the magic circle was so absurdly large that the daredevils who chose to watch started fleeing to a safer distance. "Leo. Marcris."
Two purple-robed men stepped forward upon the mention of their names. Alecto glared at Lark. "Show him his place."
Blue mana started to cover the bodies of the two men. They unsheathed their swords and shot towards Lark, their bodies reappearing right before their target in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation, they aimed at Lark's neck, their killing intent oozing out violently. But before their blades could even reach Lark, their bodies were suddenly pull down towards the ground. They tried standing up, but as though they had been glued to the earth, they could not get up. "It's too late," said Lark. All of the magicians gathered here were inside his magic circle. The moment this magic circle was activated, Lark became the ruler of this small domain. The Grand Scale Magic – Domain of Earth and the Forest. Despite its dull name, it was a highly coveted spell capable of turning the tides of war. Back in the Magic Empire, Lark used this spell to single-handedly defend a fortress from thousands of trolls. Everyone who entered this magic circle would have their weight amplified hundredfold, eventually crushing them with their own weight alone. Under Lark's will, all of the magicians fell down on their knees, their bodies filled with sweat as they tried their best not to fall down the ground.
Everyone's bodies felt so heavy, as though they weighed a ton. Some of the weaker magicians started vomiting blood from the pressure produced by the pull of the earth. Even Alecto was not spared from this phenomenon. After some time, he also fell down his knees, his body quivering as he tried resisting the gravity magic. "Damn coward," Alecto gritted his teeth. He could not even cast his chantless magic, since doing so would give Lark the opening to thoroughly crush him with the spell. "Coward?" chuckled Lark. He found the statement amusing. "I'm actually benevolent enough. I even gave you the option of fighting me alone."
Alecto snarled. "This damn cheap trick isn't enough to stop me!"
Alecto channeled a large amount of mana into his body, strengthening it.
And as though the gravity magic was a lie, Alecto started standing up. He smirked as he glared at Lark. "Kneel."
And the gravity magic intensified. Even with his body strengthening magic, Alecto fell down on his knees. He could feel the insides of his body being crushed by the sheer pressure of gravity magic. What was happening? How was it possible for a single individual to perform Grand Scale Magic? This was the first time Alecto witnessed gravity magic being used like this. He previously thought it was a useless spell used only by support magicians when carrying the cargo. "Like I've said before, I'm here to return a favor." Lark pointed a finger at Alecto's left arm, and using wind magic, started to twist it into unimaginable directions. Alecto gritted his teeth as excruciating pain filled his entire body. He did his best not to shout and scream. That's for George's arm.
Lark's eyes were predatory. Now, for Austen's… Lark walked towards Alecto and yanked his hair up, then slammed his face towards the ground, creating a loud thud sound. Lark pulled his head up again, revealing Alecto's broken nose and busted lips. Lark liked the sight of this. With tremendous force, he slammed the head of Alecto once again towards the ground, then again, and again, until he looked like bean paste.
The smug face from before was already gone. "He's out?" Lark smiled wryly. The damn bastard had lost consciousness. Lark let go of Alecto's head, making his entire body fall down the ground.
The rest of the magicians were in no better state. They were sprawled on the ground, their faces kissing the earth as their bodies refused to move. I'm running out of mana. Lark decided to finish this soon. He amplified his spell further until everyone finally lost their abilities to fight. By the time the spell ended, more than half of the magicians had lost consciousness, while the remaining ones could not even move a muscle from the pain. Lark looked around. There were still spectators around, although they had fled to a safe distance. Time to go back.
Lark concealed himself and leapt into the air, vanishing from sight. That night, the news of a masked intruder defeating the entire Tower spread like wildfire.