"Ancestor, you can't let him off so easily! He's the mastermind behind the attack on our Farell family, and the one who caused Grandpa Damiang's death!"
At this moment, the young wizard who had been lying on the ground immediately shouted.
"Oh?!" Leylin's brows furrowed slightly. With a flash of black flame, he had already teleported directly to the young man's side.
"The wound on your chest — that was inflicted by the Soul Slaughtering Cult, wasn't it?"
With just a brief glance, he knew everything about the other's condition.
"Yes! I've been struck with the Soul Slaughtering Cult's Soul Plague, and the venom of a Miasma Spider!" The young man's face was somewhat ashen, yet there was an excited flush upon it.
"Merely a small problem!" With a flick of Leylin's finger, the bandages on the other's chest fell away on their own, revealing knotted muscle and a horrifying wound.
"Bear with it for a moment!" Leylin casually uncorked a vial of crimson potion, letting drop after drop of the liquid fall into the wound.
"Aaah..." Wisps of white smoke rose from the wound, forcing a cry of pain from the young man.
Immediately after, black currents of energy were driven out from the wound. Threads of flesh grew wildly, and the wound began healing at a startling rate.
"Huh?!" Darrenley, not far away, couldn't help but cry out in astonishment. "This speed — it's even faster than a Tier 3 Healing Grandmaster! Could it be a legendary ancient healing potion?!"
"Hmm? Still not behaving!"
Leylin had no interest in explaining Darrenley's question. On the other side, however, Ivik had already made another move.
Boom!
Countless sanctum javelins wreathed in platinum-white flames materialized around him, converging on Leylin like a volley of ten thousand arrows.
As for Ivik himself, he spread his massive wings and shot straight into the sky.
"Stay put and be quiet! Didn't you understand me?"
Leylin's expression darkened. A pressure dozens of times more terrifying than anything Ivik had displayed descended upon the area, and invisible ripples spread outward, causing those javelins to detonate in midair and dissolve into motes of light.
High above, Ivik let out a bizarre shriek upon witnessing Leylin's display. He spread his wings and attempted to flee into the distance.
"Get down here!" Leylin's right hand made a pulling gesture through empty air. Shrouded in a streak of white light, Ivik screamed as he plummeted to the ground.
Crack! Crack! The two wings on his back were forcibly ripped away by an invisible force, their bases still trailing skin, flesh, and blood. Two long, gash-like wounds appeared across his back, and blood gushed forth like a fountain.
The pillar-of-light cage that had previously sealed this area also let out straining sounds, segments of it exploding one after another.
"..." The young man, whose chest wound had healed and who had risen to his feet, watched the scene with a numbed expression. It wasn't that he wasn't shocked — it was that everything that had happened today had long since exceeded what he could process, and he had already gone numb.
First, while fleeing, he had continuously heard a voice in his heart urging him on, compelling him to alter his original escape plan and head straight for Tritonis City.
Then he was caught up by the Soul Devouring Church followers here, and before they could even make their move, the even more terrifying Tier 3 Wizard Aivik showed up. Given the enmity between the two sides, the young man would rather fall into the hands of the Soul Devouring Church than have to see Aivik's face again.
But things weren't over yet. Just when he thought everything was finished, something even more bizarre happened—that ancestor of the Farrell family, the genius wizard Leylin who had vanished for hundreds of years, actually reappeared, and the moment he showed up, he defeated Aivik with absolute superiority!
The young man stared with a stiff expression at Aivik, who had collapsed to the side like a dead dog, strongly suspecting that the man was merely a clone, or perhaps just some kind of fraud.
When had the pinnacle of the South Coast's wizards—Tier 3 Wizards—become so weak?
"Perhaps it wasn't that the opponent was too weak, but that the ancestor was simply too powerful?"
The young man gazed at Leylin's masked face, reverence shining in his eyes. He had been present when Aivik unleashed his aura earlier, and having experienced the depth of that power firsthand, he knew that beneath such a Domain, one could only be slaughtered like an ant.
Yet Leylin had defeated him with just a casual wave of his hand. Just how vast was the gap between them?
"Your injuries have healed. Also—what's your name?"
Leylin addressed the younger generation member, a rare hint of warmth and approachability on his face.
"I... I'm Krupp! A descendant of Odi..." Krupp knew that Leylin certainly wouldn't be interested in his full genealogy, so he jumped straight to Leylin's generation.
"Odi?! That was after I left?" Leylin stroked his chin.
"Yes! He was your younger brother, born two years after you departed..." Krupp carefully watched Leylin's expression, then pointed at Aivik. "Ancestor! He once sent people to attack our Farrell family, nearly uprooting us entirely from the Keli Archipelago. Only a handful of bloodline descendants escaped under Grandfather Damien's protection. You must avenge us!"