Haa haa haa... I breathed heavily, my chest heaving with exhaustion. What the fuck? How is a D-rank's spell so powerful? I thought, my mind reeling with shock.
Infact, that wasn't just a spell, that was a tiered spell. The sheer scale of the destruction was a testament to the spell's power.
Tiered spells were spells that were cast using magic circles, a complex and intricate way of harnessing magical energy.
I thought back to the basics of magic, the three ways of using it.
The first one was the way I'd been doing it, directly using my own mana and channeling the element I wanted to cast.
It was the most straightforward way. Most awakened in this world used this method.
The second way was through runes, like how the elves and dwarves did with the teleportation gates and space rings.
Runes could be used to cast regular elemental magic by simply writing the spell down in rune language and then applying mana to it.
It was a more complex way of casting magic, but it offered more precision and control.
And then there were the tiered spells, the way Grant had just used. This way of casting involved incantation, using the power of words to shape reality.
Rather than relying on individual mana, tiered spells utilized atmospheric mana, drawing energy from the air itself.
The magic circles were the key, gathering and focusing the atmospheric mana to amplify the spell's power.
When casting, the magician would imbibe their will into the words, causing the magic to manifest in a spectacular display of energy and power.
The sound of Grant's incantation still echoed in my mind, the words "Collapse" still resonating with the power of the spell.
Grant landed on the ground, his feet thudding against the stone with a soft Thud! He breathed heavily, his chest heaving with exhaustion.
"Haa haa haa. Fuck. That was a pseudo tier 6 spell. He'd better be dead," he said between heavy breaths, his words punctuated by the sound of his own ragged breathing.
Joseph and Viona looked at him, their faces etched with concern, their own breathing heavy and labored.
They didn't say anything, but their expressions spoke volumes - they too wished that the shaman was dead this time.
Katherine just stood there, wordlessly, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
The air was thick with tension, the only sound the heavy breathing of my companions and the distant creaking of the ruined pillars.
All the pillars that Grant had cast earlier were completely destroyed now, their remains scattered across the ground like rubble.
I couldn't help but think back on Grant's words - Pseudo tier 6 spell, huh? That was very impressive for a D-rank.
That must've drained his mental fortitude, huh? Yep. Tiered spells didn't take individual mana really, but they required intense focus.
The mental strain of casting a tiered spell was immense, like trying to hold a dozen threads together in your mind at the same time.
One misstep, one miscalculation, and the entire spell could unravel, leaving the caster drained and vulnerable.
And tiered spells were ranked in a specific order, each tier corresponding to a specific rank of magical prowess.
Tier 1 was for [G] ranks, the lowest of the low. Tier 2 was for [F] ranks, slightly more powerful. Tier 3 was for [E] ranks, and so on.
The ranking system went all the way up to Tier 10, which was reserved for [SSS] ranks, the strongest of the strong.
But there was a rumor, a whispered legend, of a Tier 11 magic. A magic so powerful, so divine, that only Gods could wield it.
Spells capable of sinking entire continents, of reshaping the very fabric of reality. It was a magic that defied comprehension, a magic that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Jessica then groggily woke up from her unconscious state, her eyes fluttering open as she struggled to sit up.
"Huh? Where's the shaman?" she asked, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of concern.
I simply pointed towards the pile of rubble, hoping that the shaman was indeed dead and buried beneath the debris.
But just as I thought the battle was finally over, I felt it again - a cold chill running down my spine, like a icy finger tracing its way down my vertebrae.
I think everyone felt it, too. Even Jessica, who was still trying to shake off the cobwebs, immediately leaped into the sky, her eyes wide with alarm.
The rest of us followed suit, our bodies instinctively reacting to the danger that lurked below.
"Oi. You're kidding right?" I heard Grant say in a near-trembling voice, his tone laced with shock and incredulity.
I looked down, my heart sinking as I saw the black spikes yet again. They were smaller than before, but no less deadly.
The ground seemed to be erupting with dark, jagged points, each one threatening to impale us with its razor-sharp tip.
But my gaze was drawn away from the spikes as I looked towards the rubble, my eyes widening in horror as the shaman shakily cleared its way to the top.
It stepped out of the debris, its green skin covered in blood, its body a mass of wounds and broken limbs.
The shaman was obviously in no state to continue the fight, its body battered and bruised beyond recognition.
It was bleeding heavily, its head caved in on one side, its arm missing, and its leg twisted at an unnatural angle.
The sound of its labored breathing was like a wet, rasping gasp, a gruesome reminder that this creature was still clinging to life.
Landing softly on the ground, Joseph and I immediately launched ourselves at the shaman with what little mana we had left.
Our movements were swift and deadly, our blades flashing in the moonlight as we closed in for the kill.
As I moved, I conjured fire and lightning on my blade, the elements combining to form a blindingly bright plasma that seemed to shimmer and dance in the air.
Although using plasma drained my mana faster, my plasma attacks were the only thing in my arsenal that could affect this thing.
My blade then shone with a blinding light, its radiance illuminating the darkened landscape as the world around me blurred.
In moments, I was before the shaman, swinging at it from its left side - the side with one arm.
Joseph swung at it from the right, our blades clashing with the shaman's staff in a flurry of steel and sparks.
CLANG!
The sound of our blades meeting the shaman's staff was like a crack of thunder, the impact sending shockwaves through the air.
As our blades clashed, the shaman looked me in the eye and began laughing maniacally.
"Kehehehehe!"
The sound sent shivers down my spine, its malevolent glee seeming to infect the very air around us.
What the?
"What's so funny?" I asked the shaman in an annoyed tone, but it just whispered something to me, its voice barely audible over the sound of our clashing blades.
My eyes widened upon hearing those words, my mind reeling with shock and confusion. How? I thought, my mind racing with questions.
But before I could even process what I had just heard, an arrow - a plasma arrow, the one I had given Katherine earlier - flew by me at intense speed, landing true on the shaman's abdominal area.
And then, a deafening explosion occurred, scattering the shaman's guts around and sending us all flying backward.
The sound of the explosion was like a colossal Boom!, the shockwave washing over us like a physical force.
This time, we were sure the shaman was dead.
But its words still haunted me, echoing in my mind like a dark mantra. What had it said?
Words that no one in this world should know yet, much less a mere [C] rank monster. It had said, "May Chaos bring Order".
Why was it significant?
Because those were Lucas' motto in volume seven of the novel, when he became the 'Emissary of Chaos'.