Chereads / Wizard Bloodline / Chapter 91 - Chapter 91: Demon Tungsten, Was This Once Your Sword?

Chapter 91 - Chapter 91: Demon Tungsten, Was This Once Your Sword?

"Fools! What are you standing there for?! Get to work!"

The sudden appearance of the youth threw the young wizards into shock. Lynch, the leader, was the first to recover, urging the dazed Harry with a dark expression and quickly issuing orders.

"You two stay. You, come with me to hold off..."

The flaming axe appeared again, and Lynch watched the youth intently, slowly saying, "No, to eliminate him."

Almost as soon as Lynch finished speaking, the flaming axe hovering above him roared toward the youth.

The flames on the axe clashed with the surrounding cold air, producing thick white steam that surged forward like a tide.

However, in the next moment, the steam abruptly ceased, transforming back into countless suspended ice particles in an instant.

The handsome youth, holding an ice spear, casually brushed aside the ice particles as if parting a crystal bead curtain. As he walked, cold air emanated from him, and the heat waves retreated.

Lynch watched helplessly as the flames on his thrown axe weakened, the once bright red blade quickly losing its luster as if submerged in icy water.

In this air, it seemed all fire energy particles were being mercilessly expelled.

Only ice energy particles remained, reveling, worshiping their king from the realm of extreme cold!

The fierceness on Lynch's face froze, his eyes showing deep shock, trembling like the dying embers on burning steel.

Strangely, threads of despair arose within him, and the youth's figure vanished from his sight.

In the next instant, his protective energy shield silently shattered, and an ice spear, entwined with dark blue flames and mysterious energies, rapidly enlarged in his onyx eyes.

Enveloped by killing intent, Lynch felt as if plunged into an ice cave, wrapped in layers of despair, unable to muster any resistance. Only one thought churned in his mind.

"Who on earth is this monster?!"

With the Domain of Despair active, Ronan himself became the source of cold and despair.

Once he closed in, the physical and mental impact on his opponent multiplied severalfold compared to other areas within the domain, reaching an extreme.

With the aid of [Charged Weapon - Power of Dispelling], Ronan effortlessly tore through the late first-level wizard's protective shield and mental energy field. As the ice spear neared the opponent's head, Ronan halted, pondering for a moment. He reversed the spear, sweeping the shaft across Lynch's cheek. With a dull crack of bone, the late first-level metal wizard flew sideways like a sandbag.

Next.

Ronan's white hair fluttered, cloaked in wind and snow, holding the ice spear, impossible to discern which was colder—him or the surrounding snow.

When his calm gaze turned to another round-faced wizard, the latter instinctively retreated, his floating magical tools beginning to glow brightly.

Ronan thrust his ice spear, and the deep blue aurora stream pierced the air, striking a circular magical tool, instantly freezing it into a block of ice despite its glowing runes.

The round-faced wizard, in terror, frantically activated his remaining tools, conjuring a blazing flame and a bright blue plasma ball almost simultaneously in the air before him.

Yet before these first-level spells could launch, Ronan's figure ghosted before him.

The domain's aura enveloped closely, causing the spells to visibly wilt, the flame and plasma ball shrinking rapidly. Under the ice spear's [Power of Dispelling], they popped like fragile balloons, torn apart.

As the spear poised at the round-faced wizard's brow, with a dark yellow crystal tool clutched in his hand, the wizard's eyes reflected only shock and horror, repeatedly muttering, "Impossible! How is this possible?!"

"Snap!"

An ice-covered figure was flung from the white courtyard, landing heavily on the icy street.

There were three similar unconscious figures on the street.

Ronan quietly collected himself, holding four storage pouches in one hand, closing the half-rusted iron gate with the other.

He turned.

The last glow of sunset cast over the ice-covered courtyard, reflecting countless sparkling crystals.

The courtyard's previous desolation hidden, it now seemed almost beautiful.

Benigo sat amidst the crystalline beauty, silently exhaling smoke.

Ronan approached slowly, producing the black box containing the Sacred Blood Tree seed, tossing it.

The box arced gracefully in the sunset's glow, caught securely by Benigo.

"You were right not to kill them."

Benigo looked at the box, fingers tracing its surface, speaking softly, "The Ring encourages competition but doesn't permit infighting.

"No one can bear the punishment for killing a fellow member."

"So that's why you've survived this long?"

Ronan's expression was indifferent, "Had I known, I should've left the seed at the door and turned away; or waited until they were done with you before coming in."

Honestly, Ronan regretted it.

He visited Benigo merely to fulfill his promise to lend the Sacred Blood Tree seed.

Upon arrival, sensing the array and Benigo's peril, he hesitated for a long time before deciding to act.

Perhaps it was gratitude for Benigo's extra help beyond their deal?

Or pity for the unanswered communication stone?

Ronan himself was unsure.

But he now deeply regretted it; his impulsive act cost him a chance to free himself from this quagmire.

The storage pouches taken from the four subdued wizards were Ronan's meager consolation—since he'd already offended them, might as well do it thoroughly.

Ronan felt a blockage in his chest, yet had no outlet, as it was entirely his doing.

However, this frustration soon dissipated.

---

It was a head-sized, cold, hard piece of black metal.

It lay silently before Ronan.

"What is this..."

Ronan's expression was one of surprise and wonder.

Moments earlier, he watched this thing flow like oil from Benigo, stopping at his feet.

As a newly initiated metal wizard, he understood the significance of this metal.

In metal spell inheritance, many spells relied on a medium to unleash their power, so nearly every metal wizard carried a special metal as their spell medium.

In fact, spell mediums were crucial in many spell lineages.

For example, plant wizards needed seeds, necromancers needed flesh and bones...

The black metal before Ronan was undoubtedly Benigo's spell medium. Without it, Benigo's power would drop by at least two-thirds, if not more.

The wizards who troubled Benigo sought this metal, proving its power and value.

Now it seemed Benigo intended to give it to him?!

"It takes a smart person like you to do something foolish; I'm almost flattered."

Benigo stood slowly, holding his pipe.

His clothes were soaked with blood and sweat, his neck bore a ghastly wound, the decay on his left cheek seemed worse.

Yet his eyes showed no trace of injury or the inhuman pain he'd endured.

"Consider it extra compensation."

Ronan's brow furrowed, eyeing the metal with desire.

In three days, he'd managed to grasp the core metal spell [Animate Metal], needing a suitable medium.

He planned to buy one from a magic shop.

But whether he could afford even the cheapest metal was uncertain, and shop metals couldn't compare to Benigo's, which even second-level wizards fought over.

"Enough, don't hesitate."

Seeing Ronan waver, Benigo spoke calmly, "I never take back what I give.

"Besides..."

He paused, continuing, "Demon Tungsten, though precious, is an exceptional medium even for second-level metal wizards, with excellent properties.

"But its flaw is equally clear.

"Its energy is corrosive to flesh.

"If your soul isn't strong enough to suppress its backlash..."

Benigo touched the rust-like decay on his cheek, speaking softly, "You'll end up like me.

"Honestly, I don't know if giving it to you is a blessing."

"Is it due to dark energy particle erosion?"

Ronan's eyes flickered, lightly raising his hand to draw the metal to him.

Even without Benigo's words, he sensed the metal's peculiarity.

It was a rare dark material, emitting dark energy particles.

In sunlight, the metal's surface released smoky, fog-like darkness, nearly tangible energy.

However, Ronan believed Demon Tungsten's drawback might not be an issue for him.

Due to [Immaculate Body], he had a light energy orb within, repairing internal damage, dispelling harmful particles...

Ronan's mental energy surged, and as he cast [Animate Metal], the black metal floated, melting into a liquid, flowing like black mercury.

"Benigo, was this once your sword?"

Ronan squinted, examining the black mass in the sunset.

Gradually, it extended, growing like a plant.

Finally, it formed a sleek, heavy, ornate single-handed sword, hovering in Ronan's palm.

In sunlight, the sword emitted faint black smoke, containing a strange allure, as if drawing one's gaze and soul.

"...It will shine brighter in my hands."

Ronan murmured, gripping the hilt, feeling the cool metal.

With Benigo's words, Ronan couldn't refuse.

As Benigo said, it was compensation for the risk Ronan took.

For better or worse, they were now more tightly bound.

"Let's talk elsewhere. We can't stay here."

Seeing Ronan accept Demon Tungsten, Benigo relaxed, scanning the area before suggesting they leave.

Ronan agreed, nodding.

Together, they left the courtyard.

Passing the street, Ronan saw four wizards lying unconscious, asking, "Who sent these guys after you?"

Benigo shook his head, denying, "Not an old foe.

"Someone unknown, named Travis.

"Probably an emerging talent in the Ring."

A lone figure approached down the desolate street.

It was a young man.

His face was thin, skin pale, fingers long and elegant.

His black hair was perfectly combed, black diamond studs in his ears.

He wore a fine silver robe, three silver rings on the chest.

Despite the robe's glow, he exuded a dark, profound aura.

He was like a shadow swallowing light, making the street seem darker and more sinister.

The young man soon reached the flattened Bronze Ingot Avenue, number 131.

Four unconscious figures lay haphazardly on the street.

Inside was a wrecked battleground, frost remnants everywhere.

The young man's gaze lingered on the four wizards, his eyes cold, expression unchanged.

He briefly surveyed the courtyard.

Emerging, a communication stone appeared in his hand.

He spoke calmly into it.

"This is Travis."

"Contact Lanny for me, say..."

"I have something of interest for him, and I wish to discuss it."

"Concerning Benigo and his protégé."

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