The "Pseudo-Space Storm" magic burst like a bomb, sending shockwaves and fierce winds scattering in all directions, uprooting trees in its path.
Once the winds died down, calm returned to the mountains. The site of the magic attack now featured a pit five fathoms wide and one fathom deep, with a swath of destruction around it.
"He must be dead," Atlante, pale-faced, reassured himself as he looked over the havoc wrought by his magic. His magical power was completely depleted; even maintaining his flight spell was no longer possible, and he landed gently, propping himself up with one hand and gasping for air.
The "Pseudo-Space Storm" was a derivation of the eighth-tier advanced magic "Space Storm" and fell within the scope of fifth-tier magic. Atlante, as a late fourth-tier mage, had cast a spell beyond his own level, exhausting not only all of his magic power but also significantly draining his mental strength.
Mental strength is the foundation of a mage's ability to cast spells; the stronger it is, the more potent the magic released. Therefore, mages typically do not cast spells that exceed their own tier. However, Atlante, having seen Ye Han effortlessly break his third-tier magic "Wind Dust," had steeled his heart and used a fifth-tier spell, aiming to take down Ye Han in one fell swoop.
"I have to admit, you are a formidable opponent. No wonder mages of the same tier are considered much stronger than swordsmen," Ye Han's cold voice echoed once more just as Atlante was about to check the results.
A short sword slowly pressed against Atlante's neck, and Ye Han's figure appeared behind him.
Atlante turned his head with difficulty, his face filled with horror as he saw Ye Han, his long hair disheveled, wounds deep enough to see bone, staring coldly back at him.
"How is this possible?" Atlante asked in terror.
"Heh, I'm not like other swordsmen, have you forgotten?" Ye Han replied with a cold laugh.
Atlante suddenly remembered Ye Han's ability to vanish and appear silently. His eyes, which had been filled with terror, became lifeless in an instant.
"That spell you just used, you can't easily use it now, can you?" Ye Han mused.
"That's a fifth-tier spell, not something I, a late fourth-tier mage, can use easily," Atlante replied calmly.
"Actually, had you not used that spell so early, you might have had a chance to escape. But now, it seems you really wanted to kill me."
"Yes, your existence is truly terrifying for us mages. So..."
"I know, once swordsmen get close to you mages, even those two tiers lower can easily defeat you. And since I can use that method, you didn't want to fight me for a long time, did you?"
"Yes, but I didn't expect that you could activate it in such a short time," Atlante said, staring coldly at Ye Han.
"Your family head must have told you about how I escaped that day, right?"
"Yes. It takes three breaths of time for you to use that technique." It took Ye Han three breaths from forming hand seals to disappearing when he first used the technique in front of others.
"So you launched a series of low-tier and one mid-tier magic attacks on me, preventing me from using my technique. Then, while I was resisting your magic, you launched that fifth-tier spell, hoping to kill me in one blow. But to your disappointment and regret, I still managed to evade it, didn't I?"
"Yes, we indeed underestimated your strength."
"Heh, you could say that." After Ye Han finished speaking, a brief silence fell; neither of them spoke, and the quiet was such that their breathing was audible.
"Do you know what my biggest gain today was?" Ye Han asked. Atlante looked at him questioningly, silent, waiting for the rest.
"It's that you taught me how to use magic." In Atlante's bewildered gaze, three enormous wind blades gradually appeared beside Ye Han. They were bigger than any Atlante had cast before, darker in color, more solid, and sharper.
"This is impossible, impossible," Atlante said incredulously. How could someone who had never encountered magic be able to cast it after only one demonstration, and instantly at that, with more power than a mage who had spent years with magic?
"Magic is about using mental strength to draw upon the elements in the world that match one's own magical energy, and then using mental strength to gather them into a form best suited for attack and defense. Am I right?" Atlante stared at Ye Han in a pressured manner.
"And the incantations known to people are nothing but a way to use language and mental strength to resonate with the elements, reducing the consumption of mental strength and magical energy.
Right?" Atlante's look of surprise turned into one of shock.
"Mages can only cultivate one type of magic because it relates to their body's attributes, and because a person's mental strength is limited. Although it grows stronger with cultivation, the stronger the understanding and perception of elements, the less likely one is to cultivate other types of magic. Different elemental magics counteract each other. If one cultivates two different magics simultaneously, one can suppress it with mental strength in the early stages, but in the later stages, if not careful, it can easily lead to a burst and death, with far less power than cultivating a single type of magic. Of course, this is different for those with special constitutions. Do I understand it correctly?" After Ye Han finished speaking, Atlante's gaze shifted from shock to fear.
A shadow flashed, and Atlante, still in fear from Ye Han's words, suddenly felt a pain in his throat. His heartbeat sped up, his brain became dizzy, his hands quietly covering his throat as his eyes rolled back.
"Before you die, let me tell you a secret, one that only you know now. I can now instantly deploy that technique, it's called the 'Escaping Technique.'" Just as Ye Han finished, Atlante slowly fell backward. His body convulsed, his pale face turned purple due to lack of oxygen, and fresh blood continued to flow from his throat. After a moment, the convulsions stopped, and he lay still.
Ye Han squatted down, pried open Atlante's tightly clutched right hand, and removed a ring from his ring finger. Ye Han smiled.
"A space ring, haha, it seems being a mage is indeed a profitable profession," Ye Han said with a bloodthirsty smile.
Instantly, Ye Han's mental power covered the ring, checking inside it. After a moment of sensing with his mental power, Ye Han internally exclaimed, "Mages really are wealthy."
The ring contained countless gold coins, nearly a thousand. There were even more than a dozen amethyst coins, each equivalent to a hundred gold coins. In total, there were nearly three thousand gold coins, a significant fortune on the continent. Yet, this was not what made Ye Han exclaim; it was the eight magic cores inside the ring. There were three fourth-tier magic cores: two of the wind element, one of fire, and one of earth. There were four fifth-tier magic cores: one each of water and fire, and two of the wind element. The most valuable was a dark blue magic core emitting a deep blue glow, a seventh-tier wind element magic core.
Magic cores below the third tier were quite cheap, costing only a dozen or so gold coins. But fourth-tier and above cost hundreds of gold coins, and the price rose geometrically with each tier increase. The seventh-tier magic core in the ring was worth around ten thousand gold coins.
The rest were Atlante's personal belongings, a few garments, and some magic books.
"Who would have thought, after one battle, I've become a little rich man," Ye Han said with a slight smile.
"Hmm," Ye Han mused as he looked to his right towards the periphery of the Transverse Mountain Range.
Chapter 16: Slaughter and Accidental Killing
"More people are coming, and there's quite a few of them—one, two, three... a total of fifteen. They're moving fast. I'd better hide. If they're here to chase me, then..." Ye Han thought about the wealth Atlante had brought him, and his lips curled into a slight smile. His figure quickly disappeared, and when he reappeared, he was back in the formation where he had practiced the night before.
Ye Han sat cross-legged, activated the Brahman Corpse Technique, and the wounds on his body visibly began to heal. He took out a black mage's robe from the space ring—now his own, having taken it from Atlante—and replaced his tattered clothes, then sat quietly, waiting.
Just moments later, a squad of fifteen people arrived at the spot where Ye Han had battled Atlante. The leader, a middle-aged swordsman, furrowed his brow as he observed the traces of the battle.
"Captain, judging by the battle traces and the extent of the area affected, it seems to have been caused by a fifth-tier magic," one of his subordinates reported.
"Fifth-tier... could it be?"
"Captain, we've found four bodies." While the middle-aged leader was pondering, another subordinate reported the discovery. The leader hurried over and his face changed color at the sight.
"It's Atlante, the late fourth-tier mage of the Patrick family. How could this have happened..."
"Captain, his body is still warm, and his blood hasn't dried yet. He must have died within half an hour, or even less."
The middle-aged leader knelt down to examine Atlante's body closely. The clothing was intact, and the only fatal wound was at the throat, with no other injuries. The magic wand lay beside him. The expression of terror on his face suggested he had been killed instantly and encountered something shocking before his death. Who could have the ability to kill a fully alert late fourth-tier mage in an instant?
Mages, during combat, always keep their mental power spread out, constantly monitoring their surroundings to prevent enemies from approaching, making it very difficult to get close to a mage during a fight. If a mage senses any movement nearby, they will dodge immediately. Moreover, mages generally do not stay in one place for long during combat.
Suddenly, the middle-aged swordsman thought of someone, a person who could disappear silently in front of a ninth-tier powerhouse, the very person they were seeking: Helian Wujian, now known as Ye Han, a fifteen-year-old boy.
"Everyone, stay alert to the surroundings. The person we're looking for is nearby," the middle-aged swordsman turned and ordered the other fourteen members. Immediately, they paired up, back to back, weapons drawn across their chests. Ye Han's previous words made it clear that he intended to take revenge on the Helian family, so they had to take defensive measures without knowing his intentions.
"Not bad at all. All fourth-tier swordsmen, the Helian family is really going all out. The Patrick family is nothing compared to them," Ye Han felt a sense of pride seeing the strength of those who had come. He recalled his previous life, where he had been ridiculed and looked down upon due to his family's poverty. In this life, once dubbed "the one abandoned by the gods" for his inability to cultivate and subjected to humiliation for over a decade, he was now being hunted by several fourth-tier swordsmen. It reminded him of a saying from Earth: "The fist is the truth. Strength is dignity."
It wasn't that the two families couldn't send more powerful individuals; they simply didn't see the need. Although fourth-tier might seem low in the eyes of eighth and ninth-tier powerhouses, to the common people, a fourth-tier was a formidable being—especially someone like Ye Han, who had been publicly "depowered."
Ye Han's expression turned cold, and his eyes shone with a chilling light. "Whoever wants to kill me must pay a heavy price," he muttered as his figure gradually vanished.
"Screams" echoed, and blood sprayed into the air, shattering the silence of the Transverse Mountains.
"There!" The Blood Guard Squad saw Ye Han's figure and prepared to attack, but in an instant, he disappeared again. Quiet returned, punctuated only by their increasingly rapid breathing.
The middle-aged swordsman clenched his sword as his subordinates were killed one after another. He yelled, "Young Master Seven, we are not here to hunt you down, but by the family head's order, to bring you back."
But he was answered only by more screams. Four had died in an instant without a clear view of the enemy, which caused the middle-aged man to become both anxious and fearful.
"Everyone, come together, do not spread out. Form a circle, back to back. If he appears, capture him alive, do
not injure him," the middle-aged swordsman ordered the remaining ten subordinates.
"Do you think I would believe you? After how you treated me in the hall, even killing my mother, and now you have the nerve to say you're here to protect me. Such a rotten excuse. I've seen idiots, but never one as idiotic as you," Ye Han said just as a series of large deep-blue wind blades appeared from the right side of the circle formed by the people and attacked the eleven members of the Blood Guard Squad.
"Right side!" The first to see the wind blades activated a powerful red light from his sword, which formed a huge red energy sword in front of him to fiercely slash at the incoming blades, while others swung their swords to block the attack.
"Boom!" The huge energy sword slashed into the ground, overturning a large swath of soil, and most of the wind blades in the air were dissipated, with the rest fended off by those nearby. However, at that moment, cries of agony came from the left side of the circle. When everyone rushed to see, three of their comrades lay in pools of blood, convulsing.
Seeing all this, the group was shocked, "What kind of speed is this? In less than a breath's time, he moved from in front of us to behind and killed three, then disappeared again." Cold sweat dripped from their foreheads and slight tremors shook their bodies. Some even thought of fleeing, but the thought of the family's punishment for deserters quickly banished that notion. They also felt fear towards Ye Han, the one they had always called a "waste."
An enemy you can see, no matter how powerful, doesn't seem frightening. But an enemy hidden in the shadows, whose strength is unknown, is truly terrifying. The unknown is always the most frightening.
"Isn't this fun? The Patrick family was killed by me just like this, and they even left me a fortune. How much will you bring me?" Ye Han's voice echoed unpredictably in the air, striking at the spirits of the remaining eight Blood Guards.
"They see us as prey, a source of wealth," the group thought despondently, realizing they were not considered significant by Ye Han, only as prey that could bring him wealth.
The middle-aged swordsman was no longer calm, looking around frantically with trembling arms, fear consuming his heart. Once fear takes over, it robs one of all else—there is only dread, the fear of death.
"We really are here by the family head's order to protect you, and..." the middle-aged swordsman said fearfully, surprised at the depth of the young master's hatred for the Helian family and astonished by Ye Han's talent for cultivation.
The people with him had suffered much hardship and disdain to reach the fourth-tier of swordsmanship, but due to their lack of talent, it took until middle age for them to attain it.
"It's over." Ye Han, like a judge from hell, declared their fate with a single phrase.
A sword slashed viciously from the left, but a shadow flashed from the right, claiming a life in an instant.
Behind them, "Boom!" a powerful energy slash struck a Blood Guard fiercely. When he turned around in disbelief, realizing he was killed by his own comrade's hand, his last sight was of a young face smiling at him.
A total slaughter ensued. With Ye Han's silent appearances and disappearances, the number of Blood Guards dwindled. Some died by their comrades' swords, others by Ye Han's hand. Watching the lives he took, Ye Han laughed joyously, his unrestrained laughter echoing through the space, lingering long after.
A few minutes passed, and only the middle-aged swordsman remained alive. Covered in deep, bleeding wounds, he ignored them and swung his sword wildly, squandering his energy as if it cost nothing. The ground was pocked with large holes, and Ye Han watched him with a smile not far away.
After a while, the swordsman's energy finally ran out, and he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
"Why don't you kill me?" he coughed.
"I have a use for you. So..." Ye Han's figure vanished, and when he reappeared, he was in front of the swordsman, his dagger swiftly passing over.
"Agh!" With a scream from the middle-aged swordsman, both hands flew a meter away from his body. He fell heavily to the ground.
"Don't worry, I said I wouldn't kill you, and I won't," Ye Han assured the convulsing man on the ground, then stopped the bleeding from two wounds on his shoulders.
"What do you want?" the swordsman coughed.
"I want you to go back and tell those who wish to harm me that anyone who seeks my life will pay a heavy price. Today, I'm just collecting some interest." Having said that, he ignored the middle-aged swordsman on the ground, walked over to the arm stained red with blood, pulled off the ring, and immediately wrapped it with his psychic energy. He instantly erased the psychic imprint of the middle-aged swordsman on the ring.
"Ah," as the psychic imprint on the ring was erased, the middle-aged swordsman let out a scream even more agonizing than before, and then passed out. The figure of Ye Han also disappeared into the air.
Ye Han is not cruel; he just deeply understands the saying, "Mercy to an enemy is cruelty to oneself."