As The Wolf opened his eyes, the edge of Zef's sword was nearly touching his mask. His arm frozen in mid-air as if someone or something was holding his arm back.
"What the f-"
Slowly but surely Zef was being pushed back. No. It would be more accurate to say he was being pulled back.
A black sphere formed in the center of the encampment.
However, nothing happened. It didn't even make a sound. In fact, if it wasn't so out of place, it might have gone unnoticed.
But suddenly, they started flying. Straight into the sphere, each knight was being picked off the ground and flung towards it. Hearing the troops colliding into the sphere answered a question.
((((It's hard?))))
The whole surface of the sphere was covered in people. But it didn't stop there.
More and more people were being flung towards it. Crashing into their comrades which were already there. It didn't feel dangerous at first but with tens of hundreds of soldiers being sucked in, those who were first to be attached to the sphere were being brutally crushed by their allies.
Muffled screams could be heard as knights and mages were being completely crushed. Blood started dying the dirt below a dark red.
Zef was being dragged against his pure strength towards the sphere as well. Leaving a trail where he tried to dig his feet into the earth.
Grabbing the hilt of his sword with both hands he stabbed the ground with all his strength to stop himself from being pulled in any further.
By now the human sphere was extremely large. Already trapping hundreds of soldiers within its almost gravitational like field.
Then, the pulling force stopped.
Turning his head to look at what was going on, Zef couldn't help but stare at what happened next.
(It stopped pulling us in but, why are they still stuck to the sphere?)
As Zef was trying to think of a reason, it happened.
The sphere gradually lifted up into the sky. Hovering a few body lengths above the head of Zef. Then the sphere started getting smaller.
Loud screams could be heard coming through the center of the sphere as a waterfall of blood began to rain down on the remaining battalion.
---
Melv, who stood next to the unconscious Ava after healing her wounds, couldn't look away. Magic that was supposed to have disappeared along with the age of Gods. Despite countless cases of there being reports of other groups being able to perform such magic, it wasn't supposed to be possible alone.
Even Melv, who boasted to be the best mage within the kingdom and would rank fairly high compared to adventurers as well, could not cast such a thing alone.
A few years ago, a drought occurred in Yvnahal's agricultural land just south of the kingdom. Using an age of God magic as a reference, Melv and twenty other mages invented the magic [Aqua Pluvia]. By using the river water near a conquered dungeon, they manipulated the atmosphere over the agricultural land to be able to retain moisture. With that, [Aqua Pluvia] was able to form clouds that would periodically rain when enough moisture was built up. Saving the kingdom and it's citizens from possible famine.
Despite Melv coming up with the concept of the magic and creating it himself, [Aqua Pluvia] is what's considered as sub-magic. Sub-magic is magic created by referencing or incorporating other magic. [Aqua Pluvia] actually came from a spell called [Aqua Indun]. [Aqua Indun] was a high tier magic that was capable of washing away an entire kingdom as though it were a house in the path of a enormous raging river.
(To use such magic... shouldn't be possible...)
The reason why magic from the age of Gods were nearly nonexistent was due to the amount of mana it took to cast them.
There are currently two ways to use mana. Creation and enhancement. Creation magic takes considerably more mana than enhancement magic. The reason is simple. Enhancement magic has a constant source of mana. When enhancing a weapon or body with mana, the constant contact with the source body provides enough mana to maintain the enhancement. Creation on the other hand is a bit more confusing.
When casting [Fireball], one could maintain the ball of fire in close proximity to their body. However, once the spell leaves a certain range, as if power being cut, the intensity of [Fireball] drastically drops.
The only known ways of overcoming such a deficit is first, having a larger inherent pool of mana and second, refinement of mana. To put a numerical value on the two, if a hundred unrefined mana was needed to cast [Fireball], only twenty or so would be needed with refined mana. But, how does one refine their mana? Years and years of repetitive training.
As Melv was struck with awe and fear at the unique magic he's never even seen or heard of before, it happened.
The sphere of his comrades started to compress and shrink in size.
"!"
(That's! That's a variation of [Black Hole] isn't it!)
[Black Hole]. An incredibly high tier spell back in the age of Gods. It was written that the spell could consume mountains, devour lands, and swallow nations. The original spell was described as creating a black vacuum in an area where anything and everything would be sucked in and vanish. As time went by, variations of this spell were created. One of the more common variations was the black sphere. Instead of objects vanishing within the sphere, the sphere would collect it's surroundings and slowly shrink into nothingness.
Melv, seeing the sphere slowly start to shrink was certain it was of that variation. Still, he had never read or seen any evidence showing the possibility of [Black Hole] being able to specifically target objects. To have only dragged in his comrades and not the terrain around them... the creativity and control was terrifying.
(How do we win...)
He was on his knees. Looking at the sight of his comrades being crushed as the sphere continued to slowly shrink, he had given up.
(It's impossible...)
As Melv fell into despair, one man slowly stood up. His name was Zef. An A-Rank adventurer, renowned throughout the kingdom, strong enough to take a Lord on his own. He stood in front of [Cataclysm]. Lifting his eyesight from the ground towards The Wolf, the sight would petrify anyone.
His eyes did not show fear, the light did not go out. In fact, it was burning. The passion in his eyes were not of someone cornered into desperation but that of a wild animal finding a worthy prey.
A smile slowly growing as the corners of his mouth were rising higher and higher. The canines almost seeming to gleam in the sunlight.
Crazy.
A word to describe how Zef looked.
With a ball of corpses floating in back of him, a sea of red forming at his feet, and a look of hunger on his face. This man looked crazy.
"[Higher Speed]"
"[Higher Strength]"
"[High Defense]"
"[Heightened Vision]"
"[Fury]"
Zef began to glow. Surrounding him was an aura of multiple colors. But he wasn't finished.
"[Mid-Flame Aura]"
"[High Poison Aura]"
"[Reinforce]"
"[Enhance]"
Zef's sword began to hum as a beautiful glow enveloped it. An unbelievable amount of power surged forth.
He took a step forward. As his right foot touched the ground, a crack formed. The strength of his step alone was enough to create a small crater.
A thunder clap echoed through the canyon. The source of the sound coming from a crater where the ground caved in.
---
The Wolf regained his senses. Feeling a little light headed from casting [Cataclysm] he felt relieved at seeing how effective it was. Not only how strong the spell was but the mental effects it had to those witnessing its power.
"That would've been too easy huh..."
Seeing Zef slowly stand up he couldn't help but click his tongue. This man was tenacious. While everyone else was looking at The Wolf as if he was a demon, the look Zef gave him made him freeze.
"You think he'd let me take a ten minu-"
Before he could even finish, it started.
A thunderclap echoed as if to signal the start of the fight.
Without even thinking, The Wolf unsheathed the short sword at his waist and swung it in front of his face. The giant sword of Zef appeared before him, swinging down right towards his short sword.
Noticing the glow of the sword, The Wolf immediately let go of his sword. Using the momentum of his swing, he spun to the left as Zef's sword blew up the ground. The short sword completely obliterated.
His mind was foggy before from casting magic but it was clear now. The raw strength and speed that Zef possessed would kill him if he were directly hit.
Without giving him time to think, Zef appeared next to The Wolf again, once more, doing an overhead swing.
Years of training showed in this moment. The Wolf's body acted on it's own.
Pivoting his right shoulder forward, as Zef's blade came down, he used [Reinforce] on his right fist, hitting the blade making Zef lose his footing for a split second. In that moment, The Wolf grabbed Zef's right arm, pulled himself up and wrapped his free arm around Zef's neck.
Summoning a dagger in his right hand as he choked Zef, he jabbed the dagger into Zef's neck.
Or so he thought.
The poison aura around Zef's sword was too effective. Had The Wolf known it was poison used on the sword, he wouldn't have done something so reckless as hitting the blade. His right hand was bleeding like crazy with his skin burnt off and flesh showing. It looked more like the effects of placing his hand in a vat of acid rather than poison.
The moment the dagger in his hand was dropped, a whistling could be heard in the air. In that moment, an arrow cleanly pierced The Wolf's left arm.
Released from the grip, Zef exploded free turning around with a diagonal slash downwards towards The Wolf.
The Wolf made a mistake. He didn't think that Zef would be able to withstand the force [Cataclysm] would produce and lost focus from the drain in mana. If he prepared a few steps ahead, he wouldn't be in this situation.
Time slowed. The blade engrossed within it's colorful aura slowly approached him.
The Wolf closed his eyes. Taking a deep calm breath, he opened them once more.
Pitch black.
The color of his eyes were pitch black.
A dark aura swirled around him as he whispered
"[Paralysis]"
Zef's sword fell to the ground. Then, Zef himself fell.
What had just happened? Right before he was about to slay The Wolf, his whole body became unresponsive. The only things he was able to do was breathe and move his eyes.
He looked at the figure of The Wolf, the prey before him. He was so close. (Am I dead here?) He began to think along those lines. As he was getting ready to accept fate, an ominous feeling erupted next to him.
An explosion of black erupted from The Wolf. If one looked close enough, they could see blood beginning to drip down his neck.
Thinking that his time was up Zef closed his eyes. He was content. Living the lavish life of a high ranking adventurer, Zef was convinced he lived a good life.
("But to think I let such a strong opponent out of my hands...")
Regret. Who cares about living a good life? Money? Women? Fame? He doesn't need any of it. Zef became an adventurer for one purpose. To test his limits. To fight strong opponents. Slowly but surely he began to rise to the top of humanity. Some would say even surpassing it.
(One more chance. Just give me one more chance. Give me one more minute- no. Thirty seconds is all I need. Not. Like. This.)
Zef put forth everything he had into moving. He will not die yet.
So desperate to get control of his unresponsive body, Zef was screaming inside. If only he had realized.
The Wolf was gone.