A soft sigh pierced
When she traced it all back, every step that had led her to this desperate, perilous situation was born of greed. Unrestrained greed, greed without limit. No wonder that mysterious mage had sighed at her with "Greed..." Recalling how she had once mocked Frederick, Baier, and Alten with similar remarks about greed, and comparing it with the scene before her now—it was a truly exquisite stroke of irony!
Regret, remorse, anguish, pessimism, despair, self-abandonment—every manner of emotion tangled in Sophia's heart. Yet she was someone who treasured her own life above all else. Her will to survive far exceeded anything she herself had imagined. She held such a noble status, possessed beauty that drew countless suitors, enjoyed a lavish and refined life, had experienced joyful and thrilling pursuits, stood at the prime of her youth, and wielded power that was truly her own—how could she simply die like this? No! She hadn't enjoyed enough yet! She still wanted to advance to High-level Warlock, still wanted to find love, still wanted to live another five hundred years! She refused to die!
All her thoughts, all her desires, all her emotions converged into that single scream. Sophia placed every shred of hope on Lucian, who stood slightly ahead and to the side. Though he was a terrifying High-level Mage and her enemy, at least he still possessed reason and was capable of negotiation. If the terms she offered were enticing enough, and she was willing to abandon all her principles, there was a chance she could trade for a chance to survive. If she let—
She let her gaze drift upward toward the hall's entrance, where the "Pain Devil" Miranda was shrouded in black mist, where half-shattered souls were being drawn into that dark fog, where each and every face was twisted in agony. She shook her head in frantic terror. If that thing won, unless the Magic Circle outside was broken in advance, she would inevitably die in excruciating pain!
Her luminous green eyes fixed on the tall, dark silhouette ahead. This was the only hope she could cling to. As long as she could live, as long as she didn't lose herself, she would agree to any condition he named!
With hope restored, Sophia leveraged her casting focus to quickly suppress the emotions of pain, self-abandonment, remorse, and despair. But new emotions surged up almost at once. Nervousness. Worry. Extreme nervousness. Extreme worry.
Although this "Pain Devil" seemed different from "Greed"—still muddled and chaotic, lacking the cunning, mystery, and eeriness unique to the Seven Devils—it had been formed using Golden Knight Midaren as its core. Its ninth-tier strength and speed alone were enough to crush virtually every High-level Mage and Sky Knight present. Could this mysterious mage find a way to defeat it?
Only now, as she recalled the battle that had preceded this moment, did Sophia realize something. The High-level spells the mysterious mage had cast were all reliant on equipment. The highest-tier spell triggered from within his own soul was only fifth-tier. Though for a High-level Mage, whether a spell was useful depended not on its tier but on its suitability for the current situation and the current fight—still, the fact that he hadn't cast a single sixth-tier spell on his own was deeply unsettling.
Could it be... could it be that he was a sixth-tier mage who had advanced less than a year ago, and apart from Spell Trigger, hadn't yet had time to learn many sixth-tier spells? At this thought, Sophia's heart clenched once more. Despair and pessimism flooded back.
"O merciful and compassionate Lord, please grant your power unto him, and help him slay this evil devil." Not particularly devout in her faith, Sophia—in her most desperate moment—found herself instinctively praying for the
These multitudes of thoughts and emotions shifted in rapid succession within Sophia's heart, making it seem as though an eternity had passed. In reality, from the moment Lucian had sighed at her greed to now, only three ticks of the pocket watch's second hand had elapsed.
Midaren murmured in a dreamlike voice: "Come, return to the deepest and heaviest suffering."
"The essence of the world is suffering, and the process of life is suffering!"
As though weighed down by countless agonies, he advanced step by ponderous step. Within Lucian's right eye, the "Stellar Rotation" spun with increasing intensity. But under the vast gap in rank, he could no longer obtain a detailed analysis the way he had against the "Greed Projection." All he could manage was a vague judgment:
"Because Midaren's own power is too formidable—his willpower has reached the very pinnacle below the Legendary realm—the 'Pain' Devil, even after creating a projection within his mind and draining his power to grow wildly, has been unable to fully consume his consciousness. It's still locked in a fierce struggle of devouring. The outward manifestation of that is why it lacks the eerie flexibility of Greed or Hatred, instead appearing heavy and sluggish."
"But with ninth-tier strength alone, it's enough to crush everyone here. Even with Pale Justice in my hands, if my speed isn't sufficient, I probably wouldn't even fully cut through the black mist around him before he killed me in a single strike."
As Midaren's murmurs continued, the twisted faces within the black mist surrounding him each spoke their own agony:
"Birth brings suffering to mothers..."
"Troubles during growth produce pain that cannot be resolved..."
"Sickness brings suffering..."
"Poverty brings suffering..."
"Love brings suffering..."
"Aging brings suffering..."
"Despair brings suffering..."
"Death brings even greater suffering..."
Each face recounted a different form of pain, and combined with the twisted expressions they wore, waves of hallucinatory agony pressed down upon Lucian's mind, making him restless and unsettled.
"I can't let him keep going like this!" Lucian forcibly steadied his emotions and withdrew an item from his storage pouch.
An illusory sun blazed to life in Midaren's mind—like a Crown of Glory—but it suppressed the surrounding black qi, thinning it until the agonized faces could scarcely speak.
"Midaren's solar bloodline actually conflicts somewhat with the Pain Devil's power?"
"Opportunity!"
"If I miss this chance, there won't be another!"
Lucian acted decisively, hurling the test tube from his hand. Incantations of harsh, guttural syllables left his lips, and complex casting gestures followed in tandem.
The sun's radiance blazed ever brighter, as though it would engulf the entire hall and reduce everything to vapor.
Sophia narrowed her eyes slightly, a bitter smile and despair rippling through her heart. Under the illumination of the "Crown of Glory," was there still any hope of survival?
The crystal test tube tumbled through the air, within it a solidified, colorless substance that radiated a profound chill. Under the spiritual force driven by the incantation and casting gestures, the colorless solid writhed and twisted, drawing in that deep cold. In moments, it had transformed into a long, lusterless beam of light, lashing toward Midaren like a whip.
When Lucian had received the Ice Medal from his teacher Fernando, he had been told that Helen the "Ice Witch" had successfully produced solid helium through pressurization. So during his preparations, he had asked the Storm Dominator to manufacture two vials of solid helium using Helen's method, sealing and preserving them in precious containers comparable to High-level artifacts—his final trump card for this expedition.
Given the circumstances, Lucian never gambled with his own life!
Ninth-tier exclusive spell—Whip of the Ice Goddess!
The long beam of ice crystal pierced into the blazing sunlight. Midaren only sensed the danger when this ninth-tier spell had fully formed—too late to dodge. The black qi frantically recoiled, wrapping around his body.
The black qi froze.
The surrounding air froze. Midaren's blood froze. His skin took on the texture of ice crystal. Together with the other crystalline solids around him that reflected the "sunlight," they gleamed in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors—dreamlike and beautiful.
The area near the hall's entrance had become devoid of gas, devoid of liquid—a world of pure solid matter.
No—not entirely. Something could still move. The twisted, agonized faces swayed from side to side, yet could not force their way out of the frozen black qi.
What—what kind of spell was this? What tier?
How... how terrifying!
After seeing the mysterious mage toss out a test tube, then hearing the harsh, jagged incantation and watching an ice crystal beam take shape—seemingly nothing remarkable—Sophia had witnessed this absurdly terrifying spectacle unfold. Her pink lips parted slightly, her beautiful eyes went blank, and she could scarcely believe what she had just seen.
That was a ninth-tier powerhouse! Golden Knight Midaren!
Just how many tiers of magic did this man actually command?
Sophia realized she could no longer even guess at the mysterious mage's true strength. This was not something achieved through items or scrolls! The only thing she could be certain of was that this mysterious mage was powerful. Incredibly powerful.
"If only I could be as strong as he is... then when danger comes, I could protect myself..." In her shock, Sophia's mind drifted through wild, nearly blank thoughts.
Lucian, however, was not faring well at the moment. Though he had cast the ninth-tier spell using pre-prepared and precious casting materials, the gap in rank was simply too vast. After a single Whip of the Ice Goddess, his spiritual force had been drained nearly to the point of collapse, his head splitting with pain. Casting any further arcane magic was out of the question.
At that moment, a cool, soothing sensation flowed in from his left hand. The Holme Crown Ring "Origin" fed stored spiritual force back into his body, and Lucian's headache eased immediately. He seized the moment and, with barely a pause, cast Brute Force.
The cold from the Whip of the Ice Goddess alone could never kill the eerie, mysterious "Pain" Devil. Before the ice melted, he had to deliver a fatal blow!
The unnatural solid world rapidly disintegrated. Spells flashed across Lucian's body in succession. Droplets of water appeared, then instantly turned to white mist. Lucian produced a vial of potion and tipped his head back to drain it.
The ice crystals vanished. Midaren's body collapsed instantly, scattering like a skyful of snow and ice. Lucian gripped his plain, unremarkable longsword and strode forward.
The agonized faces twisted into a sphere, tiny wisps of black qi seeping out from within. Lucian raised his longsword high and brought it crashing down.
"Why is he a knight again?" Sophia, not immediately understanding what had happened, thought in bewilderment. Yet her mood was remarkably relaxed and grounded. After seeing the mysterious mage unleash a spell rivaling the ninth tier, she had seemingly found her anchor. She could see genuine hope now. The nervousness and worry had faded. Her confidence in him was absolute.
Aaaargh!
A scream of agony echoed through the hall. Pale Justice cleaved into the grotesque sphere formed of intertwined faces. Under that faint, lustrous glow, the black qi dissipated like smoke. The twisted countenances that had withstood freezing earlier now fell apart, their screams trailing into nothingness as they faded into the void.