Laura and the two others stared blankly at the "reborn" Ronan before them.
Not only had his injuries healed, but his once decayed, aged body was restored to youthful vigor, emanating a terrifying power that they couldn't comprehend.
"This is impossible, it can't be."
Laura's voice was urgent yet lucid, her face still showing shock and disbelief that wouldn't fade.
"You were clearly dead! What is this power?!"
The golden olive leaf on her forehead pulsed, and the dozens of shattered golden tendrils behind her regrew. She retreated, choosing to back away for the first time.
Ronan didn't react much to her actions. He simply extended a hand, softly chanting an incantation.
"...Using bone as a blade."
A unique resonance was achieved, and an unusual energy wave spread from Ronan's center.
In an instant, the grasses, trees, and soil within a radius trembled slightly.
The bones of animals and humans buried in this land, stripped of decay, the finest fragments... summoned by the spell, gathered towards Ronan.
"Is this... the necromancy spell [Bone Spear]?"
In the sky, Jerome murmured.
At that moment, he found Ronan before him to be increasingly unfamiliar.
"Using remains... as a blade!"
Countless bone fragments gathered in front of Ronan, forming a black-gray spear.
With a calm expression, Ronan reached out, gently gripping the spear's shaft, his other hand sliding along the shaft.
A vast swathe of ghostly blue flames, like a lover's gentle touch, enveloped the spear, adding deep, mysterious hues.
Holding the bone spear, Ronan's white hair fluttered behind him, his azure eyes reflecting Laura's retreating figure.
"I see you."
With a soft whisper, Ronan's figure vanished silently from his spot.
Simultaneously, Laura's demeanor tightened, feeling as if something extremely dangerous had locked onto her, sending a chill down her spine!
"[Bloodthirst]!"
Laura's face, dominated by gold, showed a hint of crimson, her expression twisted as she reached out to Ronan: "[Frenzied Vine Embrace]!"
As her mental energy rippled outward, the spell formed, and the dozens of golden vines behind her swelled, engorged, resembling frenzied, bloodthirsty serpents, lunging forward.
"Boom!"
A golden vine crashed to the ground, creating a massive crater.
But Ronan's figure had already moved to another spot.
"Boom, boom, boom!"
The terrifying vines continued to strike, each time locking onto Ronan, yet always missing.
Ronan moved too quickly, like a flickering shadow, each disappearance and reappearance closing the gap between him and Laura.
The frenzied vine bombardment turned the area into a disaster zone, yet Ronan remained calm and composed, casually holding the bone spear, as if strolling through his garden.
With a flicker, Ronan appeared less than ten meters from Laura.
Her eyes wavered, attempting to recall the vines.
Another flicker, and Ronan stood five meters from Laura, slowly raising his right hand, preparing to thrust the spear.
Laura's face finally showed panic, masking her deepening fear with hysteria, screaming as vines wove an impenetrable wall before her!
A third flicker, and Ronan stood before Laura, only the vine wall separating them.
He thrust the spear, the bone spear's black-gray tip, ghostly blue flames dancing, domain power interwoven.
Pushed by a terrifying force from Ronan's white flames, the spear pierced the vine wall instantly!
In truth, the bone spear shattered mid-thrust, Ronan almost punching through the vine wall!
As he broke through, more bone fragments gathered, the spear reforming, blue flames reigniting.
Everything happened too quickly for Laura to react. A mysterious force crushed her mental field, the burning bone spear piercing her golden leaf, driving through her head, pushing her back, her feet carving a long furrow in the earth.
"Thud!"
Laura's wide eyes, filled with disbelief, were nailed to a massive tree by the black spear, the green light in her eyes fading swiftly.
"Ronan!"
A sudden, urgent voice echoed in the clearing.
Ronan, holding the spear to Laura's brow, turned slightly, white hair flying, revealing calm, icy azure eyes.
"Jerome, you want to stop me too?"
"I..."
Jerome, trying to approach, froze. His lips moved as if to speak, but he chose silence, stopping where he stood.
Ronan faced Laura's unwavering gaze.
"What is this power?"
"I don't really know."
Ronan raised a hand, observing the flickering white flames at his fingertips, pondering his response, "Perhaps... the brute force you all disdain."
"Brute force?"
Laura was momentarily stunned, then gritted her teeth, "Whatever the power, next time, you'll die most painfully! Ahh—"
With that, the last light faded from her eyes.
Next time?
Ronan didn't understand Laura's words, watching her head bow, her body disintegrating into dust in breaths.
Leaving only a golden leaf, gently falling.
Ronan's eyes flickered, bending to pick up the leaf, examining it.
The white flames around him receded, his hair falling.
Only Ronan could see the pure white orb in his chest had shrunk.
But to his surprise, the golden olive leaf in his palm released a strange power, replenishing the orb's loss.
"This is the Leaf of Undying."
A voice sounded nearby.
Ronan turned to see Jerome and the pretty witch approaching.
"The Headmistress nurtured a Seed of Undying Tree, forming a life pet. The Leaf of Undying aids wizards in healing."
Jerome's gaze at Laura's ashes was complex.
Quickly, he told Ronan, "It can also save a life."
"Save a life?!"
Ronan's eyes narrowed, understanding Laura's final threat.
"The effect isn't as dramatic as you think. To revive with the Leaf of Undying, one must leave a soul seed on the Undying Tree, needing rare resources for nurturing, leaving a permanent soul scar, and it can only be used once."
Jerome explained.
Ronan nodded, falling silent.
After a pause, Jerome spoke again.
"Ronan, will you return?"
"What do you think, Jerome?"
Ronan met Jerome's gaze, answering calmly.
Jerome's eyes flickered, lips pursed, finally speaking.
"Where will you go?"
"I don't know."
Ronan shook his head, "Hoddam was my first, and only, gray-robe place."
Jerome pondered, retrieving a rune-etched crystal from his pouch, offering it to Ronan, "This map of Hoddam and nearby areas might help."
Ronan accepted the crystal, scanning it with mental energy.
Though ordinary, enchanted with a zero-level [Imprint] rune, its contents were invaluable to Ronan.
"Thank you."
Ronan sincerely thanked Jerome, who merely shook his head.
They exchanged brief farewells, Ronan gathering Laura's remains, disappearing into the forest.
Not until Ronan's presence faded did Jerome look away.
His demeanor subtly changed.
"Jerome, Jerome."
Sensing Jerome's emotional shift, the pretty witch called softly.
But Jerome's response was cold, unlike ever before.
"Laura destroyed Hoddam's chance for future glory."
"Uh?"
The witch was stunned, not comprehending.
Jerome spoke to himself.
"Just advanced, no soul sigil, no first-level spell, yet wielding two domain powers and a mysterious force. The Leaf of Undying heals, but for plant wizards, it's transformative. Laura's reckless use of its essence reached the pinnacle of first-level power, but she still lost."
Jerome's tone was numb, emotionless, filled with disappointment.
"Such a spell genius could surpass the Headmistress, but Laura drove him away!"
His numb tone grew chilling.
Turning to the witch, Jerome's expression was indescribably serious.
"Do you know?"
He spoke deliberately, "I called Ronan not to stop him but to tell him the true way to kill Laura before the Leaf took full effect. But alas."
He fell silent.
The witch's pupils quaked.
She stared at Jerome, seeing him anew.
She felt she'd never truly known Jerome, yet inside, a voice insisted his behavior was natural.
In the forest's secluded depths, ancient trees interwove, forming a thick natural barrier, with thick ivy sprawling. Amidst the dense foliage, a small golden tree stood.
Its branches golden, leaves green, full of hope.
A breeze blew, revealing a crude, twisted woman's face on the tree.
Eyes closed, mouth opened in a silent scream, summoning ugly forest fairies from the bushes, hurrying to the tree.
Each fairy carried bulging pouches or brimming buckets.
Reaching the tree, they poured contents at its roots, strange liquids and pungent powders.
Busy, they hurried back for more, returning laden with potions and powders.
The tree emitted joyful sounds under the constant nourishment, leaves rustling.
But the face on the trunk never ceased its urging and cursing.
The fairies, fearful, worked tirelessly, not daring to pause.
Days later, the tree's leaves flourished, visibly taller and stronger.
Dead fairies lay scattered, the survivors exhausted, movements sluggish.
The face on the trunk continued its urging and cursing, and as another fairy fell, their collective resentment burst forth.
They dropped their loads, shouting at the face, attacking the tree's roots.
As the rebellion unfolded deep in the forest, a rune array's light shone, a beam of gold striking the tree.
Instantly, the weak tree grew visibly taller, the woman's face more vivid.
In minutes, it pierced the canopy, becoming a golden-leafed tree.
The fairies, awestruck, forgot rebellion, kneeling in fear, begging forgiveness.
The trunk split, revealing a sobbing girl with seaweed hair, seven or eight years old.
She lay on the grass, gazing skyward, her face filled with pain and hatred, swearing vengeance against the Crimson Tower and Ronan.
"I swear by my soul! You will all pay dearly! All of you!"
Under the blue sky, salty sea winds blew.
In front of a green house covered with white sea birds and black crows, a young girl with flowing flaxen hair hesitated.
Her delicate features and pearl-white skin shone, despite her plain, conservative dress.
She held a white envelope, hesitating at the door.
Encouraged by a blonde girl, she finally entered.
Moments later, she emerged, still holding the envelope.
"Why haven't you sent it?!"
The blonde girl stomped in frustration.
The young girl seemed dazed, moving forward, dropping the envelope, muttering.
"They said... they said... Hoddam is gone."
"What?!"
The gray-robed traveler trekked the wilderness, a wind clearing the fog ahead.
Behind the fog lay a mountain-like silhouette.
In the sunlight, it gleamed silver, surrounded by tiny floating islands.
The traveler stopped, facing the mountain, pulling down his hood to reveal chestnut and white hair and a handsome, noble face.
"Finally here."
Ronan squinted at the distant scene, murmuring, "The closest gray-robe place to Hoddam, the Silver Magic Ring."
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