The irregular natural phenomenon had stopped altogether, leaving behind three mages who stood facing each other in the quiet forest. This was a life-or-death confrontation, where one opponent was like a wrathful god of death. The other was one whose heart had been consumed by hatred and resentment, and the last of them was the person who jumped in and helped for a reason unknown.
Two sides were fighting this battle. Though Arias was outnumbered, his opponents’ power was nothing compared to his. As the saying went: number alone could not ensure victory. A lot of times, victory came from strength and experience. Sven and Mashelle were but acolytes. Even with both their strengths combined, they would never be able to defeat Arias, who was an adept. Adepts were superior to acolytes both in terms of magical skills and power, and their attacks also had greater range than acolytes’. No matter how you looked at it, you could tell that Arias was the superior one.