After Alan and Francis's group fled with the wagon, the crowd turned their attention to the three Lioncrest Academy students struggling to their feet.
Their faces were twisted with rage, murderous intent radiating from their expressions.
Since Sirius Academy's decline, Lioncrest Academy had become the foremost institution in the Plantagenet Kingdom.
Typically, Sirius students either avoided them entirely or were beaten into submission. Never had they been so humiliated—especially in front of so many witnesses.
The scar-faced youth, seething with fury, roared like a wolf:
"This isn't over! They'll pay in blood!"
Fueled by rage, he bolted in the direction Alan had gone. The other two students, despite the pain in their bruised abdomens, quickly followed.
What had just happened was a disgrace. If they didn't retaliate immediately, it would tarnish not only Lioncrest Academy's reputation but also their standing within the school.
Lioncrest Academy, which had always stood above all other academies, was used to being the bully—not the bullied.
Ignited by anger, the three of them moved with incredible speed, befitting their status as mage prodigies.
Alan, slowed by the heavy wagons, was quickly overtaken. Within moments, the Lioncrest students were upon him.
Their faces contorted with hatred as they charged, shouting:
"You dare attack us? You'll pay the price!"
Before the lead student could finish, Alan launched another kick. A sharp gale accompanied the strike, carrying pale white energy.
The scar-faced youth was sent flying once more, his body forming an arc in the air before slamming into the ground. Dust and shattered stones erupted as his body created a crater on impact.
Thud!
Already wounded, the scar-faced youth coughed up dark blood, his face turning pale. The attack had severely injured him.
"Alan, you're dead!" he spat, blood trickling from his mouth. "When I recover, I'll wipe out your entire family!"
His venomous threat was cut short as Alan's icy gaze locked onto him.
"Afraid now, are you?" Alan sneered coldly. "Break your own arms, and I might let you live. Otherwise, I'll make you wish you were dead—and turn your sister into a roadside harlot."
At these words, an unbearable chill radiated from Alan, the unmistakable presence of [Blade Spirit]. A brilliant white light illuminated the sky, its sharpness palpable.
Before the scar-faced youth could react, a searing blade of light tore through the air, growing larger in his terrified gaze.
Slash!
His head flew high into the air, a crimson fountain erupting from his neck as blood rained down.
The metallic scent of blood filled the air.
The two Lioncrest students beside him, never having witnessed such brutality, trembled uncontrollably as the warm blood splattered their faces.
Alan had killed someone.
Not just anyone—a Lioncrest Academy student—publicly, without hesitation.
Their fear reached a fever pitch as they realized what had just happened.
The bystanders, equally shocked, couldn't believe what they had seen. It had been years, perhaps decades, since someone dared to kill a Lioncrest Academy student so openly.
Even Francis and Fort, standing close by, stared at Alan in disbelief.
"Let's go," Alan said coolly, ignoring the stunned stares as he drove the wagon forward at top speed.
Shortly after Alan's departure, over twenty Lioncrest Academy students, clad in their distinctive uniforms, arrived at the scene.
At their head was a pale-skinned youth dressed in a blood-red robe, exuding an aura of malevolence.
His skin was ghostly white, as if devoid of blood. In his hand, he held a devilish staff, radiating an ominous energy.
This was Gunn, one of the five prodigies of Lioncrest Academy's External Affairs Division.
Standing over the scar-faced youth's headless corpse, Gunn's expression was as dark as a stormcloud.
"Alan truly has no sense of self-preservation," he said coldly. "To dare attack a member of Lioncrest Academy..."
"This insult cannot go unanswered!" Gunn's voice rose in intensity.
"Today, I will drink his blood and raze his academy to the ground. None shall survive!"
With that, he led the charge in pursuit of Alan, his blood-red elemental aura inspiring the other students to follow him at full speed.
Meanwhile, on the plains at the base of the mountain.
Alan continued driving the wagon at a rapid pace.
Inside the carriage, Francis hesitated before speaking:
"Alan, do you think we went too far? Killing a Lioncrest Academy student… they'll retaliate for sure. This is a fight to the death."
Alan shook his head slightly. "He brought it on himself. He has no one else to blame."
Francis sighed, knowing Alan was right. If the scar-faced youth hadn't insulted Isabella, Alan wouldn't have killed him.
"So, what now?" Francis asked. "They won't let this go."
"We'll deal with it as it comes. Once we reach the mountain, it'll be Gayle's problem," Alan replied calmly.
"And if they send too many people? What if we can't win?" Francis pressed.
Alan's expression hardened.
"Then we fight anyway."
His determination was unshakable.
Francis: "…"
Amid their conversation, waves of powerful magical energy suddenly became as conspicuous as flames in the dark, rushing toward them at incredible speed.
It was the people from Lioncrest Academy!
And there were quite a few of them!
Alan and the others tensed up, their expressions becoming serious.
"Francis, take my sister and leave immediately. Fort and I will handle this!" Alan instructed.
Francis hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided to grab the about-to-protest Isabella and swiftly departed from the wagon. Shrouded in a cloak of dark energy, Francis disappeared from Alan and Fort's sight at astonishing speed.
Alan then turned to Fort. "This matter started because of me. It doesn't concern you. You should leave as well."
Fort shook his head firmly. "We're all Sirius Academy students. How can I leave at a time like this? Besides, I've had enough of those Lioncrest Academy people. They're too full of themselves."
As soon as he spoke, a crimson flash appeared, blocking the wagon's path.
"So, you're the audacious Alan I've heard about?"
Gunn appeared, licking his chapped lips as he fixed Alan with a sinister glare.
In an instant, the ground beneath him began to transform into a crimson swamp. Bubbles of blood-like energy rose to the surface, creating an ominous and oppressive atmosphere.
As the wagon's wheels neared the edge of the swamp, they began to sink slightly. Alan immediately stopped the wagon and sized up Gunn.
Tier-Bronze Peak!
Gunn's tier was high, and he appeared to possess a rare variant elemental power. Under his gaze, Alan felt as if his own blood was boiling, as though Gunn's presence had a tangible influence on his body.
A variant of water element? Blood element?
Alan's expression grew serious. Rare elemental powers outside the four basic elements were almost always formidable and notoriously difficult to counter.
As Alan studied Gunn, the latter sneered, his body gliding across the surface of the bloody swamp at astonishing speed. Within moments, he was directly in front of Alan.
The demonic staff in Gunn's hand began to emit a peculiar pulse.
Blood Disruption Spell!
A Tier-Bronze control spell that interfered with the flow of blood within the body. Any mage below Gunn's tier would find themselves severely impacted—potentially even suffering fatal blood reversal if their foundation was unstable.
Yet, as the pulse reached Alan, Gunn's expression shifted into one of shock. His spell seemed to have no effect!
But Alan was only a Tier-Iron mage!
This was the first time Gunn had encountered such resistance.
"No wonder you managed to kill students from Lioncrest Academy. You've got something unusual about you. But no matter—it just means I've found a more fascinating specimen for my collection!"
Seeing that his Blood Disruption Spell failed, Gunn shifted tactics. His staff emitted a crimson glow, transforming into a blood-red blade, which he swung down toward Alan with deadly force.
The crimson light from the blade seemed to flood the air, turning the surroundings into a chilling sea of blood.
Alan, gripping his staff-sword tightly, leapt into the air with a powerful step, unleashing a cutting slash. The brilliance of his Blade Spirit cleaved through the crimson haze, restoring the space to its original clarity.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The staff-sword and blood blade clashed repeatedly, each collision sparking dazzling bursts of light, like falling stars streaking across the battlefield.
The two exchanged dozens of rapid blows, neither gaining an immediate advantage. However, Alan's solid foundation and mastery of the Blade Spirit began to give him the upper hand.
Feeling the vibrations in his arms with each clash, Gunn's expression grew grim. What he initially thought would be an easy victory turned out to be anything but.
Alan's unorthodox strength defied expectations, making him a formidable opponent even Gunn struggled to suppress.
"Blood Mirror Spell!" Gunn shouted.
Using the momentum from their clash, Gunn propelled himself backward. As he retreated, crimson light coalesced in front of him, forming a massive mirror several meters tall.
The mirror was ancient, surrounded by glowing blood-red runes that seemed to hum with a disorienting, otherworldly sound.
Alan's instincts screamed danger. His heart skipped a beat as his reflection appeared on the surface of the blood mirror.
Suddenly, the reflection let out an eerie laugh, reaching out with both hands to tear through the surface of the mirror and charge toward Alan!
The figure was a doppelgänger of Alan but with blood-red skin and an aura that matched Gunn's Tier-Bronze peak level.
"Dying at the hands of my Blood Mirror Spell is a rare honor!" Gunn declared, sneering as he and the crimson doppelgänger lunged at Alan together.