"Storm Dragon!" Dao Ensi shouted in anger, summoning a green dragon-shaped wind spirit. A dragon, swirling with a torrent of emerald winds and sharp blades, charged toward Zhuoyang.
Zhuoyang quickly cast a defensive spell, and with the effect of the previous "Wind Guard," he sprinted to evade the attack.
Boom!
The Storm Dragon exploded not far from Zhuoyang. Although he managed to avoid the main impact, he was still blown away, crashing heavily to the ground and rolling several times.
"He can't get up now," the onlookers thought. Zhuoyang was covered in injuries; his robe was in tatters, with cuts and tears everywhere, and blood was seeping through the fabric.
"Second brother!" Chongyang shouted. "Get up! I know you won't fall down like this! You just avoided the main damage; you only took a tumble, so don't play dead!"
"Ten, nine, eight…" The old man's calm voice counted down.
"Zhuoyang!" Chongyang became anxious, wondering if his brother had suffered a concussion from the fall.
"Don't tell him to get up!" Fei Lilian grasped Chongyang's sleeve, her beautiful face filled with anger. "This is enough… surrender! Aren't you brothers? You can't let him suffer any more harm!"
Chongyang glanced at Fei Lilian.
"Knowing that I'm worried about my second brother makes him happy. But it's precisely because we are brothers that I must urge him to rise. I believe he won't lose, especially not against that kind of guy," Chongyang replied.
"How is that possible…" Fei Lilian began to protest, but at that moment, with a grunt, Zhuoyang suddenly sprang back to his feet as the elder counted down to "one."
"Sorry, I just dozed off for a bit," Zhuoyang said, scratching his head. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier, Third Brother?"
Chongyang smiled. Meanwhile, Fei Lilian stared at the bloodied yet still bold and confident figure of the man before her, utterly taken aback.
"Ha! It's best if you get back up!" Dao Ensi sneered. "Let's do it again and finish you off!"
He began to recite a lengthy incantation, while Zhuoyang did not run away again but instead responded with his own lengthy spell. One side boasted a high-level magic formation and a protective robe, while the other was battered but full of bravado.
"Stop fighting!" Fei Lilian cried, tears streaming down her face.
"Storm Thousand Blade Fury!" Dao Ensi roared.
"Thunderstorm Break!" Zhuoyang bellowed.
On the left and right, the two highest-level spells—one wind-based and the other lightning-based—collided head-on, unleashing a furious wave of energy! The robes of everyone at the sidelines whipped in the wind, and the knife-like shockwaves stung their faces.
The noise around them was deafening, like popping beans, and the blinding light made it impossible to tell how long it had been. Eventually, with another loud explosion, everything returned to silence.
The solid ground of the dueling arena was marred with charred marks and countless small scratches, creating a path connecting both sides. Zhuoyang and Dao Ensi stood unharmed, both gasping for breath.
What just happened?
"Zhuoyang won; his magic suppressed Dao Ensi's, which is why he wasn't injured. Dao Ensi, with his high-level magical defenses, also escaped unharmed," Chongyang explained calmly, seemingly talking to himself but actually addressing the bewildered Fei Lilian.
"He won, but he still can't win…" Fei Lilian's heart was completely entangled with Zhuoyang's fate.
"With his magic depleted to this point, it's indeed impossible for him to break the Wind Flower Dance Array on his own. Without breaking that array, he can't get close to Dao Ensi. If he can't get close to Dao Ensi, he can't defeat him… But…" Chongyang smiled slightly. "He's not fighting alone."
"Not alone?" Fei Lilian was puzzled and confused. It was clear she didn't understand the deeper meaning behind that remark.
"I still have the magical scrolls my brother gave me!" Zhuoyang grinned, suddenly reaching into his robe and touching the high-powered scroll that Chongyang had described as "comparable to a seventh-level spell."
"Go!" Zhuoyang shouted, instantly activating the scroll's magic—
"Atmospheric Explosion!"
A crimson light shot across to the opposite side, then erupted like fireworks, scattering sparks into the air.
"What is this?" Dao Ensi scoffed, his face twisted in disdain. "Is this the low-level magic trick of a northern bumpkin?"
Boom!
In the next second, his scoff turned into a look of frozen terror as he realized he was being blasted high into the air by a tremendous force!
The spectators witnessed a flash of bright crimson light, followed by a deep, thunderous sound that nearly pierced their eardrums. Then they saw the Wind Flower Dance Array, where Dao Ensi had been, suddenly transform into a sea of fire, and Dao Ensi, engulfed in flames, soared high into the air!
"Oh… Because this magic causes a large-scale explosion by igniting the air, the swirling wind environment of the Wind Flower Dance Array actually provided some enhancement. However, since this magic formation has defensive properties, it didn't kill him on the spot; it merely blasted him away," Chongyang thought to himself.
As the crowd was stunned by the terrifying power of the magic, only Zhuoyang shouted, charging toward the descending Dao Ensi, his staff crackling with lightning once more!
"I wonder how much your robe can withstand!" Zhuoyang swung his lightning staff upward just as Dao Ensi was about to land, striking him hard in the abdomen. In a flash of electric light, Dao Ensi was sent flying backward!
"Lightning Staff Barrage! Ahhhhhhh—" Zhuoyang shouted as he struck Dao Ensi again and again with the staff, sending him flying into the air, then crashing back down, then back up again…
The crowd watched in a daze as this pitiful human punching bag bounced up and down, like watching a game of hacky sack. It wasn't until Zhuoyang delivered one final, powerful horizontal strike that broke the staff and sent Dao Ensi soaring five or six meters away, crashing heavily to the ground outside the arena.
Counting down… it wasn't necessary anymore. Dao Ensi's eyes were rolling back, foam at his mouth… the fact that he wasn't dead was a testament to Zhuoyang's restraint.
This duel concluded with a ferocious outcome. Miss Fei Lilian rushed into the arena, teary-eyed, showing great concern for Zhuoyang. Meanwhile, the other person, completely forgotten by her, was being attended to by the medics.
The scene was chaotic; Dao Ensi was surrounded by people, while Zhuoyang and Fei Lilian were absorbed in each other… In a corner where no one was paying attention, Chongyang and the referee quietly slipped away.
"Where did you get this scroll?" the old man asked in a deep voice. He had witnessed the unbelievable power of that low-level magic firsthand, and his astonishment and curiosity had reached their peak.
"If I answer that question, what's in it for me?" Chongyang smiled slightly.
"Young man…" The old man narrowed his eyes, his thick eyebrows arched like two sharp blades.
He radiated a powerful aura that was extremely oppressive, speaking in a low tone, "It's better to be a bit humble."
"Master, it's better to be straightforward in life," Chongyang felt the pressure but remained fearless, "Who are you? Why should I reveal my secrets to you?"
"Hmph, do you believe that with just one word from me, you and that person won't be able to leave this place alive?" The old man's gaze sharpened, revealing a hint of coldness.
"Whether I believe it or not, with your attitude, there's no way I'm going to tell you anything," Chongyang replied coldly.
The two faced off against each other; the old man continued to exert pressure, intensifying his aura. Chongyang began to sweat, but his eyes remained bright, unwavering.
"Ah…" The old man finally sighed, "Very well…"
Chongyang didn't smile; he continued to look coolly at the old man.
"Let's get acquainted. My name is Richard Hawasson, the grandfather of Fei Lilian Hawasson, and a first elder of the Magic Association," the old man said as he withdrew his imposing aura.
Chongyang had already guessed this, but he feigned surprise, pausing for a moment before he calmly spoke.
"Chongyang Bright, brother of Zhuoyang Bright, student of the Priselan Magic Academy."
"Chongyang… the repeating student Chongyang? The shame of Priselan?" Richard's eyebrows twitched.
"Elder, do you know me?" Chongyang was even more surprised. A figure as insignificant as himself, how could a Saint-level magician know him?
"I've heard it from an old friend," Richard said. "You have a magic deficiency, yet you've struggled for years in the academy while your peers have already graduated. You're still here…"
An old friend? Is it a senior professor from Priselan Academy? Or… a small, stooped figure flashed through Chongyang's mind.
"Indeed, extraordinary people have their extraordinary qualities," Richard said as he carefully scrutinized the young man before him. "Would you like to come to my laboratory for a cup of tea?"
Chongyang paused for a moment and glanced over at Zhuoyang.
"Your brother can be kept company by Lilian," Richard added. "Didn't you just say that there's no reason for you to answer my questions? I'll tell you this: if you answer a few of my questions well, your brother… will be able to be with Lilian."
Chongyang frowned slightly but nodded.
…
The room of a high-ranking elder of the Magic Association, of course, was located in the towering mage tower.
As he followed the elder, Chongyang noticed that none of the mages he encountered in the tower were below the Arcane level. The atmosphere inside the tower was somber and quiet, filled with a profound and mysterious magical aura.
Chongyang couldn't help but wonder how many years it would take to work his way up from the outer membership of the Magic Association to get into this tower.
Finally, he was led into an exceptionally spacious room by the elder. The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves filled with books, and only a large desk stood in the center, cluttered with various items. At a glance, it looked like a small library.
"Have a seat," the elder waved his hand, and a soft armchair appeared seemingly out of thin air.
Hand-casting and magical space? How wonderful… Chongyang thought to himself. Given the unusual size of the room, it was clear that it had been constructed using magical space. Generally, one needed to be at least a Domain-level mage to use magical space, and constructing it required at least Arcane-level skill.
As for Richard, the elder in front of him, being at the Saint level, he naturally had mastered the manipulation of magical space.
After they sat across from each other at the desk, the elder actually brewed a pot of black tea himself and poured a cup for Chongyang. This display of courtesy made it clear to Chongyang that the elder was indirectly expressing his apology.
Chongyang was not ungrateful; he politely thanked the elder and slowly sipped the tea.
"Tea leaves dedicated to the royal family… How does it taste?" Richard asked, a hint of a smile on his face.
"It's good… but I can't really say how," Chongyang replied honestly. "I've spent so many years in the capital, and I rarely drink tea."
"What do you usually drink then?"
"Coffee, or alcohol—strong spirits," Chongyang said. "Coffee helps me stay awake, and strong spirits… well, when I'm feeling down, drinking them helps me get drunk faster."
"Ah, young man…" Richard's eyes flashed with a hint of warmth.
"Your magic deficiency is real, isn't it? A level-three cultivation that can't be improved… so those first and second-level magic scrolls, they couldn't possibly be…"
"They're made by me." Chongyang understood that with a person as sharp as Richard, it was best to tell as few lies as possible.
"Oh…" Richard, although somewhat prepared, couldn't help but be moved. Setting aside the profound magic contained in the scrolls, just the complexity of the magic formation itself was enough to prove that the creator deserved the title of master. Not just a ceremonial title, but a true master who could pass the high-level assessments of the Magic Association!
Such a person was labeled as a waste and a disgrace in Pruslan, merely due to his magical deficiency.
Richard didn't bother to blame the judgments of the world. What truly astonished him was that this young genius had endured insults and practiced in silence for over five years! While that might not seem significant to some old monsters, for a vibrant youth…
"With such abilities, why not apply for a Master assessment at the Magic Association?" Richard couldn't help but ask.
"I've been busy with my own matters and don't know much about the workings of the Magic Association," Chongyang replied. "Moreover… even if I pass the assessment, what good is being a level-three master? It's just a nice title."
This statement wasn't wrong; a level-three scroll master, no matter how skilled, would still be just that—level three. However, after witnessing the miraculous magic firsthand, Richard didn't believe that this young master's worth was any less than that of the high-ranking masters. On the contrary, just by creating that scroll, he had surpassed many!
"Do you know that if you were to publicize that scroll you made, it would cause a stir in the entire scroll industry, no… the entire magic world?" Richard sighed.
"I suppose it would be like that. But first, I've only made three such scrolls, and two of them are for my brother to use today. That means what you just saw is its debut," Chongyang said. "Secondly… this scroll isn't fundamentally my achievement."
"Someone is teaching you?" Richard wasn't surprised. In his view, it was too much for a young mage like Chongyang to produce such formidable magic on his own. There had to be someone behind him, likely a legendary mage!
"Yes, but I don't know his name, and he's quite unwilling for me to speak about him with others, so…"
"I won't press you," Richard quickly waved his hand. High-level mages often had peculiar personalities; if he inadvertently angered that hidden master, the consequences could be dire.
The capital was bustling, almost concentrated with the prominent figures of the empire. Correspondingly, there were also many powerful individuals hiding in plain sight. There had been numerous historical examples where a certain noble family suffered tremendous damage or even perished after provoking a hidden expert.
Richard was a proud man, but in the face of a master whose strength forced him to bow, he willingly chose to be cautious and treat Chongyang, who was connected to that master, with courtesy.
"That would be best," Chongyang sighed in relief. This attitude seemed genuine to Richard.
"Just talk about yourself… Did he discover your outstanding talent in scroll-making and take you under his wing?"
"Yes, but I don't know how he discovered it," Chongyang replied.
"How much has he taught you? In other words, aside from the magic itself, has he taught you deeper things?" Richard's gaze flickered with curiosity.
"I'm sorry, I can't answer that question," Chongyang's expression changed. "You should know, that kind of question is…"
"Alright, I won't ask," Richard quickly said, feeling a bit flustered as he rubbed his hands together. He realized he had been too eager.
The room fell into silence.
"Chongyang… is there anything you desire?" After pondering for a long time, Richard suddenly changed his demeanor, smiling like a friendly uncle trying to entice a little girl, his face creased with wrinkles, and his bushy brows arching like a curved bow.
"You should have graduated from the academy a long time ago. Staying there all the time isn't good for you, right? How about this: come to our Magic Association, and I can immediately give you a position as a Grand Director. Everything that Pruslan Academy can offer you, we can provide as well, and I guarantee you won't be looked down upon again. How does that sound?"
A Grand Director?
Chongyang's mind raced. While he didn't know much about the Magic Association, he was aware of the basic hierarchy within it. From the lowest non-members to general members, initial members, intermediate members, advanced members, and then to section members, section directors, senior section directors, and Grand Directors… In other words, this position would mean jumping straight from a non-member to a level-seven position within the association.
What did that imply? Given the Magic Association's status in the Rehn Empire, a Grand Director with a level-seven title would have social authority comparable to that of a viscount!