Capítulo 59: Chapter 59: Kill! The Key of Nefa
Ronan stepped out of his small house, gripping his staff, to be met with a sky lit by raging fires.
The direction of the academy and the Dwarf Market was ablaze, the flames painting the night sky red, with the central mist scattering enough to reveal shadows darting amidst the inferno.
Located on the outskirts of town, Drop Street offered Ronan little clarity on the source of the chaos, but the spread of turmoil was unmistakable.
Many people emerged from their homes, faces etched with panic and fear.
Old Wills approached quickly through the night.
"What happened?" Ronan shook his head, about to admit his ignorance, when a louder, more intense explosion sounded, seeming both near and far.
"Boom!"
Ronan whipped his head towards the town center, where several massive fireballs erupted, transforming into fiery rings upon impact.
Even from this distance, Ronan could almost feel the searing heat, imagining the terrifying temperatures as the fire rings expanded.
"A formal wizard-level entity..."
Ronan murmured in awe, his expression reflecting his shock.
Soon, various reports spread from the chaos ahead.
"Black robes! Wizards from the Forest of Whispered Death are in town, killing people!"
"The academy has fallen! The black robes have attacked!"
"Run!..."
In an instant, the street was a scene of pandemonium, with gray-robed wanderers fleeing in all directions.
Though Ronan couldn't believe that the formidable Hoddam Academy could fall overnight, the reality was undeniable.
"Quick, inform the others to pack up and meet on the street!"
"Got it!"
Ronan and Old Wills quickly reached a decision, with the latter departing swiftly.
Ronan had most of his belongings on him, requiring little to pack.
He reentered his house to gather a few items left unpacked in his storage pouch, then emerged to find Old Wills and the others still absent. The continuous explosions and distant cries for help and screams filled the air.
With a quick decision, Ronan scaled a nearby rooftop for a better view.
The flickering firelight revealed wandering gray robes fleeing in all directions amidst chaos, bloodshed, and slaughter.
Ronan's eyes narrowed as he spotted a shadow flitting through the streets like a night bat, casting streams of eerie green light that felled nearby gray robes silently and swiftly.
In the brief moment he watched, the shadow claimed the lives of seven or eight gray robes.
"Damn it!"
Ronan felt a surge of anger, his fists clenched beneath his robes, eager to intervene but restrained by reason.
In the blink of an eye, the shadow vanished from Ronan's view.
The next moment, a slender figure clad in black appeared on a rooftop four or five houses away, an icy gaze locking onto Ronan.
Their eyes met in silent confrontation.
Ronan's mind cleared instantly, his legs tensing as he prepared to retreat.
But then, an intense sense of danger surged from behind, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound.
"Boom!"
The snow-covered rooftop exploded in the moonlight.
Ronan landed gracefully in a backflip, his gray robe billowing like a bird's wings.
He rose slowly, gripping a staff that appeared in his hand, his expression dark as he faced two figures before him.
Aside from the slender black-robed figure whose face remained obscured, there was also a pale-skinned, cold-eyed bald man, displaying signs of recent spellcasting—no doubt the one who had ambushed Ronan.
The three stood silently on the open street of Drop Street, the moonlight casting a cold glow on the snow-covered ground, devoid of warmth.
Those gray-robed wanderers who had packed to flee hesitated on their doorsteps, unsure of their next move, fear etched on their faces.
"Ronan... sir," a timid voice came from behind but was quickly silenced.
Despite Ronan's best efforts to remain impassive, Sherrill's call drew attention.
The attention shifted past Ronan to focus on the direction behind him.
Ronan tensed immediately.
He could almost see a silent smile beneath the black robe before the figure raised their hands, unleashing a swarm of green phosphorescent lights from beneath their cloak.
"You go first!" Ronan shouted to Old Wills and the others behind him, simultaneously launching himself like an arrow towards the two black robes.
Several dark green corrosive orbs flew towards him.
"Kill one first."
"Then kill another!"
Ronan's eyes held a fierce, cold glint as he raised his empty left hand, mental energy swirling to create a small vortex amidst the snow-laden air, a deep light rapidly forming before he hurled it forward with force.
[Energy Missile]!
Though only at expert-level completion, with Ronan's seventh-level apprentice mental power, the energy missile unleashed power surpassing typical high-level zero-order spells.
The large, dark blue orb surged forward, melting snow along its path, creating a fierce gale in the high-pressure energy field.
Facing two opponents at once, Ronan refrained from immediately activating his Supernatural Domain, which might eliminate one but leave him momentarily vulnerable and depleted.
Even with mental recovery potions on hand, drinking and waiting for their effects took time.
The terrifying blue-black orb collided with several dark green corrosive missiles, erupting in a massive explosion.
The two black robes retreated in the blast's aftermath, their expressions briefly betraying shock.
Ronan pushed through the residual shockwave and chaotic energy particles, emerging from the explosion's center, his left hand glowing red.
He launched a fist-sized fireball and another expert-level energy missile at the nearest black robe.
The latter recoiled in surprise, retreating rapidly as an energy shield flared around them. Ronan's robe billowed as he pursued like a great bird.
Meanwhile, the bald man began chanting rapidly, his expression dark.
"Boom!"
A distant explosion sounded, several houses collapsing with a crash.
The chanting bald man glanced at the disturbance, his face twitching slightly, but his incantation remained uninterrupted.
Suddenly, a figure appeared before him like a phantom.
The bald man started, but feeling the intact advanced energy shield around him, he regained his composure.
He looked at Ronan with cold disdain, as if viewing a dead man.
Raising his staff, he prepared to unleash a nearly completed spell at Ronan.
But Ronan seemed oblivious to the threat, merely swinging his staff like a mundane swordsman.
A shimmering light cleaved through the staff, its edge flashing silently as it struck the bald man's shield.
In that instant, Ronan's grip on the staff tightened with explosive force.
"Crack!"
The shield shattered abruptly, the blue light flickering in the night before vanishing.
"Gurgle..."
The bald man clutched his throat, unable to stop the blood seeping through his fingers, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he fell backward.
Ronan wiped the blood from his face, holding his sword with a grim expression as he turned towards the remaining black robe.
"Advanced apprentice? Black robe?! Ha!"
With one opponent down, Ronan felt more at ease.
The blood-stained black sword's tip dragged through the snow, leaving a long trail.
Ronan stared at the spot where the remaining black robe had vanished, pulling a potion from his pouch and biting off the stopper to drink.
Mental recovery potions cost at least thirty low-level magic stones per bottle, but he couldn't worry about the cost now.
Ronan knew his expert-level energy missile hadn't significantly harmed the remaining opponent, having focused mainly on ambushing the bald black robe.
This opponent was stronger, likely a ninth-level apprentice.
Having remained hidden for so long without fleeing, they must be preparing a powerful spell.
As Ronan pondered, his heart suddenly tightened.
Almost without thinking, he rolled to the side instinctively.
"Swish—"
Ronan glimpsed a dark shadow, like a swiftly extending scythe, silently slicing towards him.
The chilling aura raised goosebumps on his back even from a distance.
The shadow passed silently over Ronan's previous position, leaving a deep, narrow trench in the ground.
Without pause, the shadow surged again, slashing horizontally at Ronan with bone-chilling cold.
Ronan dodged like a flea, narrowly avoiding the attacks.
Wherever the shadow passed, the ground cracked, buildings collapsed, and all cuts were smooth as if sliced by a hot knife through butter.
One could only imagine the horrific damage such "sharpness" would inflict on flesh.
"Whew—"
Ronan seized an opportunity, shattering the stone beneath his feet and launching himself far away.
His billowing robe caught in the pursuing shadow, a large section of the hem floating gently to the ground.
Ronan's face remained impassive, his replenished mental energy simmering like water nearing a boil, the aura of a Supernatural Domain rising around him as he prepared to unleash his master-level [Energy Missile - Particle Stream].
At this moment, the black robe who had been pursuing Ronan emerged from the darkness, their spell seemingly concluded as the swirling shadow dissipated.
The eyes hidden beneath the black robe gazed at Ronan with shock and wariness.
Surprisingly, they chose not to continue the confrontation, leaping into the air like a bat.
Yet before they could act further, a massive fireball, blazing with heat and light, roared in from the sky, striking them with precision.
"Boom!"
The fireball exploded like molten lava, forming a massive ring of fire that painted the sky red.
As the fiery wave descended, Ronan had no time to dodge, watching the terror unfold.
Fortunately, the heat and light retracted in the next instant.
Two figures appeared in the night sky, hovering, looking down at Ronan.
Ronan stood frozen, murmuring in awe.
"Formal wizard-level entities..."
"What is your name?"
A commanding voice resonated, carrying a melodic spell-like cadence.
The speaker was a middle-aged man in his forties, with short, rugged hair and flame-shaped tattoos on his face.
Beside him was a fair-skinned, beautiful woman in a gray-blue robe, appearing much younger than the man.
"Ronan. Ronan Damien."
Ronan quickly regained his composure, bowing his head in reply, "Greetings, lords."
It was Ronan's first encounter with formal wizards, and their immense mental power felt like a blazing sun in his senses, dispelling the surrounding darkness.
His heart raced, faster than during the earlier battle.
"Ronan, is it..."
The short-haired wizard nodded, speaking warmly, "You did well.
You'd make a fine addition to our black robe hunting squad.
How about it? The squad's status and benefits match those of elite students, surpassing even regular students."
"Uh..."
Ronan was momentarily taken aback by the offer, caught off guard.
Seeing Ronan's reaction, the short-haired wizard didn't press further, merely saying, "Think it over. Once decided, report to the academy and mention my name, Jerome. They'll arrange everything for you."
With that, the wizard tossed two gleaming objects to Ronan.
Ronan instinctively caught them, his heart skipping a beat.
In his hand were two magic stones.
High-level magic stones!
"This is your reward for intercepting the Forest of Whispered Death's black robes... we'll take the body of the one you killed."
With that, the short-haired wizard turned and left, giving Ronan no chance to refuse.
Ronan watched as the two formal wizards of Hoddam departed, glancing at the high-level magic stones in his hand, his eyes flickering with unspoken thoughts.
The short-haired wizard flew through the air, chanting continuously.
He occasionally hurled fireballs, each one far exceeding the typical spell in color, size, and heat, at sites of chaos.
The fireballs exploded, spreading lava-like flames, quelling the source of disturbances.
"Jerome, you actually invited a mere wandering wizard and even left your name, tsk tsk."
The young, beautiful witch in the gray-blue robe caught up, expressing disbelief at Jerome's actions.
"Do you know how many of our advanced students those two Forest of Whispered Death insects killed?"
Jerome spoke coldly, "Five, including two top apprentices with gaseous mental power.
Yet a mere seventh-level apprentice wandering wizard managed to stop them, killing one and driving the other away.
Isn't such talent worth inviting personally?"
The beautiful witch pondered, "Indeed, his performance is impressive."
"Yes, he possesses strong combat and spell talent.
As a wandering wizard, his abilities are unrefined; the two spells he used were basic low-level zero-order ones.
But to train them to such strength speaks of a resolve and diligence uncommon among apprentices.
We need people like him."
Jerome's eyes narrowed as he gazed into the darkness, speaking softly, "The news of the Key of Nefa has driven the Forest of Whispered Death mad... sending apprentice wizards to create chaos in the town, hoping to exploit it to open a breach in the rune formation... what a ridiculous and pathetic plan."
"When people are desperate, they'll do anything foolish."
The beautiful witch sneered, "They know that soon, they'll have no chance."
"Indeed..."
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