A pitiful magician.
Though he said that, Aslan could tell otherwise from the impending sense of danger and the reaction of fate.
Indeed, it was obvious just by hearing the name.
The word “pitiful” was practically a joke.
He was Tiyalmisof, the founder of magic.
A figure regarded as the greatest magician in history.
Even Aslan couldn’t immediately recall the power of the magic wielded by such a person.
All he could discern was an overwhelming sense of danger.
Thus, there was only one viable strategy.
Swift resolution.
BOOM!
As Aslan darted forward, the spirit creature seemed to seize the opportunity and charged simultaneously.
Boren appeared startled by Aslan’s disappearing form and fled, but Tiyalmisof greeted him with a smile.
The mechanical eye was tracking Aslan’s approaching trajectory.
“So you intend to deny me the time to cast a spell! A fine strategy!”
While revived spirit corpses lunged at Aslan and the tiger spirit, Tiyalmisof stood behind them.
His intent was clear.
He was a magician. The magic he wielded was undoubtedly potent.
Aslan locked eyes with the spirit creature and, with great acceleration, surged toward Tiyalmisof.
SCREEEEEECH!
An excessively ferocious sound for merely human acceleration. Amidst the roar, Aslan raised his sword.
Tiyalmisof’s figure drew closer.
As it approached, Tiyalmisof lifted his hand, seemingly preparing a spell.
Seeing this, Aslan made a rough estimate.
The traces he had seen on the way here were definitely from Tiyalmisof’s attacks.
Those marks clearly showed that even in close combat, he was not lacking. However, they weren’t extraordinary.
Even considering his status as a high-ranking priest, he lacked techniques like those of the Dragon King or Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
He wasn’t transcendentally skilled like Ash.
He was merely an ordinary priest who understood well how to destroy life.
This was evident just by seeing him send the spirit corpses ahead.
His primary means must be high-powered magic.
If so, all Aslan needed to do was close the distance and use the same magic interference he used on Boren.
That should be enough to overcome this numerical disadvantage.
Aslan’s judgment was correct. As he approached, Tiyalmisof conjured a fireball above his palm.
A fireball of a different density of mana. Even for Aslan, who had high fire resistance, the firepower would sting.
The arm swinging toward the advancing Aslan seemed surprised. Aslan blocked it with a punch akin to the Dragon King’s.
CHIING!
With the loud clang upon impact, the arm recoiled after striking Aslan’s knuckles.
And while retreating, it struck down with Purity.
The perfectly vertical strike was too fast to dodge, but Tiyalmisof managed to retreat before it hit.
However, the cost was grim. His posture wavered. Tiyalmisof’s evasion, untrained as a warrior, was clumsy.
And with that wavering posture, Aslan quickly grabbed his arm.
KAK, the metallic click of interlocking sounds. Gripping the arm, Aslan channeled mana to disrupt the already formed fireball.
Once the magic dissipated, Aslan intended to continue beating him and using magic interference.
“Of course, you know how to use magic interference.”
Had the other fireball in his hand disappeared.
Aslan saw the remaining fireball along with Tiyalmisof’s words.
His widening eyes filled with emerald green as he stared at the fireball rushing toward him.
Magic interference disrupted magical energy created through incantations or hand signs by channeling mana into it—technically a method akin to causing a magical failure.
But now, despite Aslan’s magic interference, Tiyalmisof’s fireball remained undispersed.
Its cause was unclear. However, what would happen was certain.
Attempting to release his grip and pull back, Aslan was instead grabbed by Tiyalmisof.
KWAHHHHHHHAAAAANG!
Simultaneously, the descending fireball exploded right in front of Aslan, engulfing him in flames as he retreated.
Though burned somewhat, it wasn’t a fatal wound. Before Aslan could sigh in relief, Tiyalmisof charged through the flames.
“Haha, dragon blood, I see! You won’t take much damage from fire!”
Then he swept his hand through the air. The intricately crafted mechanical hand left three glowing orbs of lightning decorating the dim tomb.
ZAP, ZZZZZZT!
Several streaks of lightning crackled.
Each orb produced several lightning beams targeting the head, body, legs, arms—all impossible to avoid given their sheer number.
By sensing the attack through fate, Aslan twisted his body.
KWAAZZZZTT!
Lightning adorned the spot where Aslan had been.
Dodging one meant facing two, dodging two meant facing five—a storm of lethal lightning barrages. Twisting, leaping, crouching low upon landing, Aslan evaded the lightning.
‘This won’t work. If I can’t interfere with his magic, I need to close the distance and drag him into close combat.’
Based on experience, Aslan drew the Abyssal Blade and charged.
Tracing a black trajectory as he rapidly closed the gap, Tiyalmisof suddenly lowered his stance.
“Do you know what my body’s advantage is? It’s that I can use both the Mutation School and the Transformation School.”
And with those brief words, faster than Aslan could comprehend, he swung his blade of purity.
SCREEEECH!
Swinging purity, it emitted a grinding sound, slicing through the spot where Tiyalmisof had been moments ago and cutting into the floor.
Tiyalmisof’s body was surrounded by acceleration mana. Recognizing the acceleration instantly, Aslan followed up with another swing of the Abyssal Blade—but…
KAHHHHHAAAANG!
It was blocked by an axe sprouting from Tiyalmisof’s arm.
“And this is also possible.”
Twisting the blade to transform it into a sickle aimed at his neck, Tiyalmisof spoke first.
ZEEEERRRRNG!
Suddenly, a flash erupted, leaving a long afterimage in Aslan’s eyes and turning his vision grayscale.
The afterimage lingering in Aslan’s eyes was Tiyalmisof withdrawing the axe, transforming his arm into a spear-like shape, and thrusting it toward him.
KARAK, KANG!
Instantly switching to perceiving through fate, Aslan deflected the incoming thrust with the Abyssal Blade, guiding it downward.
At the collision of blades, Tiyalmisof let out a small exclamation of admiration.
“Ho, you have senses beyond sight?”
Being probed. By the time Aslan realized it, it was too late. Tiyalmisof’s hand unleashed a shockwave.
“Guuh…!”
Recoiling, Aslan rolled across the ground to land as Tiyalmisof’s arm transformed.
A long, extended barrel. Clearly, a cannon.
What it fired was magic.
“Fireball.”
Directed at Aslan, who had barely opened his eyes, came a surging wave of fire.
Recognizing the rapidly approaching magic, Aslan pulled his blade backward.
Realizing his fire resistance had been noticed. Still firing fire meant only one thing.
Confidence in breaking through his fire resistance.
Such firepower.
‘Divide the moon.’
Upon realizing, Aslan swung purity. The drawn arc stretched long, colliding with the fireball.
KWAHHHHHHHHAAAAANG!
Just as Aslan had instinctively anticipated, the fireball fired from the cannon possessed firepower that could ignore even his fire resistance.
The swirling flames melted divine pillars and walls, scattering smoke resembling dust in all directions.
Rising smoke. Piercing through it came a rock.
Low-tier magic, rock projectile.
Rushing at high speed, resembling bullets in appearance.
One touch and even Aslan, with his creative regeneration, would die.
Aslan swiftly inserted purity into the middle of the trajectory.
KAHHHAAAANG!
Rock fragments fell as the blade vibrated. As the storm cleared, countless magics rushed from beyond.
Ice, lightning, fire, rocks, steel, water.
Diverse projectiles flew toward Aslan intending to kill.
Hardly visible. But lethal if hit. Drawing purity and the Abyssal Blade, Aslan swung.
KAHHHAAAANG!
Sparks flying. Splitting steel, deflecting flames, cutting rocks.
Diagonal slashes, vertical cuts, horizontal sweeps, thrusts, twisting stabs, deflecting with the flat of the blade, etc.
Using every available and most efficient means, Aslan evaded countless magics.
Witnessing the power that turned a handful of spirits into bloody clumps amid the streaking trajectories.
“But I’ve gauged the firing intervals.”
Lowering his stance while thinking, Aslan dug his toes into the ground.
‘Call Thunder.’
At the silent voice, thunder descended.
KRAAAAAAARRRR!
With the resounding boom, Aslan shot forward.
Dodging the incoming projectiles by deflecting them with the tip of purity’s blade.
Acceleration, Hell’s wind, and Call Thunder combined.
Aslan surged forward like lightning, swinging his sword faster than sound along his path.
SCHIIIIIIIING!
The long arc carved through the dark tomb, illuminating it with a white glow that passed through Tiyalmisof’s figure like a mirage.
Clearly having cut through, Tiyalmisof’s figure dispersed like mist.
“Hyunwoo.”
A momentary pause. Feeling the residual mana and Lewena’s words, Aslan hesitated.
‘Illusion school…!’
Turning his body, he immediately swung his blade backward.
KAHHHAAAANG!
The swung purity was lightly blocked.
Aslan’s eyes widened, and Tiyalmisof, lifting his arm to block the purity, continued speaking.
“Indeed, blocked by white steel.”
A mechanical laugh flowed.
“Are you ‘that’ person!”
Before Aslan could respond, Tiyalmisof’s leg struck his body.
KWAHHHHHHHHAAAAANG!
Despite reflexively jumping back to minimize damage, Aslan was bewildered.
Retreating and landing softly, Aslan’s expression was deeply perplexed.
Of course, he had reason to be astonished.
In that short span, Tiyalmisof had already deciphered the nature of purity and analyzed Aslan’s characteristics.
Observing such an Aslan, Tiyalmisof spoke.
“You disrupt magic without incantations or hand signs, possess large amounts of mana but don’t use magic. Thus… do you bear my tattoo?”
It seems you’ve mixed something else in there too. His laughter-filled words were accurate.
Only then did Aslan recall that Tiyalmisof didn’t use any incantations or hand signs when casting magic.
And he realized.
Rooted in the Empire Army’s First Legion Commander.
That First Legion Commander was none other than the person standing before Aslan now.
“Of course, I’ve added some tweaks.”
The mana flowing through his body.
The faint cracks visible wherever that mana passed.
Even the blue light emanating from those cracks.
The trajectory was unmistakably the same as the one traced by Aslan’s tattoo.
