Ronan no longer paid attention to Faor's expression. After unleashing a [Particle Stream], he endured the sharp pain from his mental energy being drained and bit down hard on a pill hidden in his molars.
The cold potion spread an intensely bitter taste in his mouth, and as he swallowed, it transformed into a surge of coolness that rapidly replenished his depleted mental energy.
This was a high-level mental recovery potion purchased from the largest potion shop in the Dwarf Market, with a convenient design and potent effects that made it worth thirty mid-level magic stones per pill. Ronan had only bought one, preparing for this task, not expecting it to be used.
Before his mental energy was fully restored, Ronan began conjuring a second [Particle Stream]. The intense pain twisted his face momentarily.
Veins bulged across his forehead, like tiny centipedes crawling over his skin.
Ronan felt warm liquid flow quickly from his eyes, nostrils, and ears. He saw crows taking flight from the poplars, as everything around him seemed to blur and distort.
Thirty-two energy particles appeared, and under the weaving of the domain, a second stream formed.
Sudden tinnitus left Ronan unable to hear anything. He could only vaguely see Faor, arms outstretched, features glowing, his entire being radiating a light as intense as the sun.
Then...
The "sun" was swallowed by the stream.
Faor's silhouette and the scenery behind him were rapidly washed away until they vanished completely.
"Pant—pant—"
Reality slowly returned, and Ronan finally heard his own labored breathing.
He was enveloped by an overwhelming sense of "weakness."
This weakness didn't stem from his body but from his spirit.
The "pool" in his brain that stored mental energy was "scarred" and "cracked" after being violently drained by the two [Particle Streams].
Trembling, Ronan retrieved a bottle of ordinary mental recovery potion from his pouch and drank it.
As a cool sensation spread, the tearing pain in his mind began to subside.
Peeling away the blood crust from his eyelids, the scene before him gradually cleared.
Ronan silently grinned.
He didn't need a mirror to know he looked terrible, disheveled, and grotesque.
But he couldn't help feeling elated.
Where Faor once stood, nothing remained.
Faor, along with the white cottage behind him and a long stretch of green lawn...
All were replaced by a striking mark of spell damage.
It was as if someone had taken a tool and gouged a dark line across the picturesque landscape.
Linus stood at a distance, looking disheveled but uninjured.
It seemed he had been lucky enough to be blown clear by the energy backlash when Faor tried to resist the stream, avoiding the epicenter of its power.
Yet now, his face was frozen in shock, his energy shield glowing, staring in disbelief at the devastation.
"Cough—cough—"
Ronan's light cough snapped Linus out of his stupor.
His voice, trembling and distorted, cried out.
"Impossible! How is this possible!"
"How can you comprehend the secrets of a domain at the apprentice stage? What right do you have to wield a domain?!
That realm is only accessible to true spell prodigies!
What gives a mere wandering wizard like you the right?!"
Linus's voice rose to a hysterical scream, pointing at Ronan like a madman.
"Oh?"
Ronan, suppressing the intense throbbing in his head that threatened to make him faint, slowly walked over to retrieve his staff from the ground.
"You know about the existence of the Transcendent Domain?"
"I—"
Linus's voice abruptly stopped, his eyes fixed on Ronan.
"You truly have a secret, don't you?"
"That's why you could rise so quickly in the Forest Hideout and master the Transcendent Domain."
"Give it to me!"
Linus's gaze grew fervent, his expression filled with unspeakable greed and desire.
"Or die.
Don't think I don't know how weak you are now.
The power of the domain is beyond your current control. Those two blasts must have cost you dearly, right?"
Linus quickly readied his staff.
Seeing Ronan's "pathetic" state, he was certain Ronan couldn't unleash another devastating attack like he had on Faor.
Yet he himself was unscathed.
He was still a ninth-level apprentice!
The thought of being the ultimate victor in this chaos, gaining an incredible opportunity, made Linus tremble with excitement and joy.
However...
Ronan's expression remained calm.
"Linus."
Ronan slowly drew the sword hidden in his staff, gazing at its spine, sighing softly.
"Smart yet foolish Linus."
"Unlucky yet fortunate Linus."
Ronan ran his hand over the blade, ghostly blue flames enveloping it like a lover's touch.
"You missed my final battle when I fled the forest.
But you're fortunate to be the first to witness this power..."
Ronan elegantly twirled the sword, the ghostly blue flames wrapping around him like silk, threads of domain power seeping out.
His gaze upon Linus was filled with pity.
Linus's fervor and joy froze, as if kicked in the stomach, leaving him slack-jawed.
"A-a second Transcendent Domain?"
Ronan offered no response.
He advanced toward Linus, sword in hand, its tip dragging across the grass, leaving a charred trail.
Ronan inhaled deeply, suppressing the throbbing pain in his mind, his pace quickening, body moving like a finely tuned machine.
This strike was a master-level [Basic Swordsmanship] + master-level
[Charged Weapon—Breaking Force]!
In the five days before the mission, Ronan relentlessly trained, pushing [Charged Weapon] from expert to master!
Ronan was grateful this second domain spell was a continuous drain type; the mental pull was harsh but not instantaneous.
It was like a dull blade cutting flesh.
Unlike the overwhelming force of the [Particle Stream], the [Breaking Force] domain formed a thin strand, coating the sword's blade.
An inward, transcendent edge...
Sharp enough to cut through anything!
The ghostly blue flames danced in Ronan's eyes, silently flickering.
His speed increased, robe billowing like a tattered flag.
He saw Linus's pale face, frantically chanting.
He raised his sword slightly, bringing it down...
"Swish—"
The two figures crossed paths.
"Ah!"
Linus screamed, collapsing in a sweat, clutching his bleeding shoulder, staring in horror at his severed arm.
In the moment they passed, he felt his high-level zero-order shield shatter like foam, offering no resistance.
Was this the power of the Transcendent Domain?
Linus suddenly understood why Faor, a formal wizard, had been so brutally erased from existence.
"I—"
Linus, pale, tried to speak, but Ronan appeared before him like a ghost, casually swinging his sword.
"Thud—"
Linus's head flew, his kneeling body spurting blood like a fountain.
Ronan stepped back, extinguishing the flames on his sword.
A moment later...
The sword slipped from his grasp, and he collapsed, clutching his head, writhing in agony, body curling like a shrimp.
The consequences of overcasting and mental backlash were not easily borne.
After several minutes, soaked in sweat, Ronan ceased his convulsions.
He lay spread-eagle on the grass, pale, staring at the blue sky above.
A touch activated the [Cleanse] rune on his robe, dispersing dirt, blood, and sweat like smoke.
Killing Faor had brought a sense of revenge and triumph.
Now, only relief and joy from surviving remained.
Being alive felt wonderful.
After a moment's rest, Ronan quickly sat up, suddenly alert.
It wasn't over yet.
He had just killed Faor and Linus; any academy wizard or gray robe finding him now would spell disaster.
"Loot and escape!
Outside, I know nothing about them!"
Ronan's mind raced as he swiftly looted Linus's corpse, taking his storage pouch.
He couldn't worry about damaging it, though Linus's pouch seemed superior to his own.
Ronan "forcefully unlocked" it, breaking the rune seal with mental energy.
"Tsk."
Seeing the contents of Linus's pouch, Ronan's face twisted in strange disgust.
"Whips, candles... this seems to be enema potion and lubricant."
Recalling Linus's closeness with Faor, Ronan understood how Linus had quickly risen to become a formal academy student, regrowing his arm and advancing from a fifth to a ninth-level apprentice.
It turned out he'd been "kept."
Truly ruthless.
Not just to others but to himself.
Ruthless enough to offer everything.
Ignoring the peculiar tools and potions, Ronan examined the remaining items.
He immediately spotted a crimson potion that made his heart race.
Spirit Ignition Potion!
And two bottles!
"Having two bottles and still trying to take what the gray robes fought for... deserved death!"
A cold thought passed through Ronan's mind as he found three high-level mental enhancement potions, seven high-level mental recovery potions, two high-level healing potions...
A large number of magic stones, a pile of books, several artifacts...
Ronan rushed to grab anything useful, stuffing it into his pouch.
"Hmm?!"
A metal box caught Ronan's attention.
Heavy, filled with contents, covered in intricate engravings.
He tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge.
Probing with mental energy, he discovered a rune seal.
Stronger and more complex than any he'd seen, Ronan couldn't "forcefully unlock" it even as a ninth-level apprentice!
"Could it be..."
An idea struck Ronan.
Jacob had mentioned Linus inheriting from an advanced wandering wizard.
Perhaps this was Linus's "inheritance" from his deceased mentor?
Yet this box seemed fit for a formal wizard.
"There's no rule against advanced apprentices owning formal wizard items."
Pondering various theories, Ronan stowed the box.
After emptying Linus's pouch, Ronan's gains were unprecedented.
At least ten high-level magic stones alone, and countless other items.
In comparison, the advanced apprentice black robe he'd slain was a "pauper" wizard.
"Too bad Faor left nothing."
Ronan glanced at Faor's obliterated spot, disappointed.
Along with Faor, the ghostly woman in his bone ring, always calling "Valensuna," vanished.
After a moment of regret, Ronan realized even if Faor left a pouch, he couldn't open it, and carrying it posed great risk, likely forcing him to discard it.
Leaving nothing might be best.
Gathering his spoils, Ronan looked around, silently collecting Rainey's belongings too.
Rainey's death was an unforeseen accident.
Ronan realized for the first time how little an apprentice's life, especially a wandering one, meant to a formal wizard.
Without his trump cards, he'd have met a worse fate than Rainey—no, far worse.
After all, he'd been Linus's chosen victim; who knew what torture those two maniacs would devise?
"I'll return these to the girl he cherished."
Ronan decided, heading in the direction Faor had pointed.
He wasn't sure if Faor had lied, but it might be the Corpse Garden's exit.
Ronan no longer cared about the mission.
He'd acquired the Spirit Ignition Potion, holding three now.
Exiting the garden, he wouldn't return to Hoddam, letting them think him dead, seeking a place to become a formal wizard.
As Ronan hurried across the lawn, a crow swooped past, landing quietly before him, watching.
Ronan paused, the unease he'd felt earlier resurfacing.
Crows...
He'd noticed them...
These crows were silent spectators, witnessing everything.
"Go away."
Ronan tried shooing the crow, but it flapped aside, and more arrived, blocking his path.
"Thump thump! Thump thump!"
His heartbeat quickened, unease growing, surpassing even facing Faor.
He tried ignoring the crows, quickening his pace.
But the wind rose.
A cacophony approached, vibrating the air...
The sky darkened rapidly.
Ronan looked up.
His pupils contracted, his heart clenched by an invisible hand, breath catching.
——
Crows.
Countless crows descended from the sky.
Like a thick cloud, they blotted out the sun, turning day to night, tinged with blood.
Amid the terrifying flock, a figure emerged, faintly visible.
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