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A/N : We finally reached chapter 50, thx a lot to everyone. I have tried hard to put together this chapter, hope everyone enjoys the first magi fight scene for Voldy. Please do leave a review and do comment.
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The secret plane pulsed with the energy of dimensional summoning and combination of many spells maintaining and stabilizing it.
Within its sprawling expanse, acolytes from three warring academies clashed in a series of explosive, fleeting battles—sparks of lightning, bursts of flame, and the sickening crunch of bone echoing across the alien terrain.
The plane, a pocket dimension forged by ancient spells, would endure for three days, a merciless crucible where survival hinged on cunning and strength.
Upon entry, the acolytes had been scattered to disparate corners, their fates left to the whims of chance and the terrain's capricious design.
Under the mediation of the Lighthouse of the Night, Abyssal Bone Forest Academy had secured the right to enter first, a fleeting territorial edge in this brutal contest.
Yet against the overwhelming numbers of Sage Gotham's Hut and Whitewoods Castle, this advantage felt like a hollow jest. Each side boasted roughly two hundred acolytes, their forces nearly equal in total, but the disparity in elite ranks told a grimmer tale.
The enemy academies wielded a cadre of Level 3 acolytes five to six times greater than Abyssal Bone Forest's meager handful.
The war had ravaged Abysmal Bone Forest academy, claiming lives, stranding others beyond reach, and driving some to treachery, traitors cut down as they fled. The result was a small acolyte force, outmatched in raw power despite their ferocity.
Beside a small pool, its surface rippling with an unnatural sheen, a black-haired acolyte cloaked in shadow unleashed a jagged bolt of lightning.
The crackling arc struck an Abyssal Bone Forest acolyte square in the chest, reducing him to a pile of smoldering ashes that drifted lazily into the water.
Elsewhere, on the plane's far side, Jayden's face twisted into a mask of cold fury. His hands moved in a blur, and from his body erupted a tangle of writhing vines, their thorny tendrils snaring a Whitewoods Castle acolyte who despite his young age had an old face. (Image)
The vines constricted with relentless force, blood seeping through the gaps in crimson rivulets, dripping onto the cracked earth in a steady, macabre rhythm.
Such skirmishes flared incessantly across the plane, brief and brutal. Abyssal Bone Forest's Level 3 acolytes held a tenuous edge in one-on-one duels, their training and desperation lending them a savage precision. But for the Level 1 and 2 acolytes unfortunate enough to cross their paths, death came swift and certain outclassed, overwhelmed, and erased in moments.
"Trash," Jayden muttered, his voice a low growl as he bent to retrieve the badge from the mangled corpse at his feet. The Whitewoods acolyte, a Level 2, had posed no real threat, his body now a grotesque cocoon of crushed flesh and splintered bone.
The badge white and crescent-shaped gleamed faintly in Jayden's hand, a token of his kill and a key to the return route.
Each academy's badges bore distinct hues: black for Abyssal Bone Forest, red for Sage Gotham's Hut, white for Whitewoods Castle, with shapes denoting rank.
By academy decree, a Level 2 kill earned three contribution points, while a Level 3 promised ten a currency of survival and power in this blood-soaked game.
Jayden wiped his hands on his robe, the fabric stained with dirt and faint smears of blood, and tightened his grip on his magic artifact, a slender rod pulsing with verdant energy.
With a final glance at the carnage, he turned and strode into the dark forest beyond, its canopy a twisted lattice of gnarled branches that blotted out the plane's eerie, diffused light.
The ground beneath his boots was uneven, littered with roots and jagged stones, each step crunching faintly in the oppressive silence. For ten to fifteen minutes, he pressed onward, his senses sharp, yet not a single acolyte crossed his path. The stillness grew unnerving, the forest's quiet a stark contrast to the chaos he'd left behind.
He paused amid a cluster of skeletal trees, their bark blackened as if scorched by some ancient fire. The air hung heavy, devoid of birdsong or rustling leaves, just an empty, expectant hush.
Jayden's eyes narrowed, a prickle of unease creeping up his spine. Then, abruptly, his pupils dilated, a faint tremor of magical fluctuation rippling from the earth beneath his feet. "Oh no," he breathed, realization dawning. "A rune?"
Before he could react, the ground flared with arcane light, a magic formation erupting into existence, a six-meter circle of glowing inscriptions. (Image)
Jayden's instincts kicked in, and he thrust his artifact forward, green vines surging from its tip to cocoon him in a protective shell.
Almost simultaneously, the rune blazed, and a roaring inferno engulfed the circle, flames licking hungrily at his defenses. The heat was searing, the air shimmering with its intensity, but when the fire subsided, Jayden staggered out, alive yet battered.
His vines were reduced to charred husks, crumbling to ash; his robe hung in tatters, singed and blackened; his skin bore dark, painful welts where the heat had kissed too close.
The artifact in his hand flickered weakly, its once-vibrant luster dulled likely unusable now, a casualty of the ambush.
Suspicion gnawed at him, his mind racing to pinpoint the culprit. He spun in place, scanning the shadowed trees, his voice cutting through the silence with raw fury. "Why are you hiding like a coward, bitch? I know it's you!"
A rustle answered him, and Jayden whirled, his hand slashing through the air as he unleashed a Shadow attribute spell—Umbra Hands.
Dark tendrils erupted from his palm, clawing toward a thicket of bushes. Leylin emerged from the foliage, stepping back with fluid grace, his Grand Knight reflexes and Level 3 acolyte prowess more than enough to evade the grasping shadows.
His eerie laughter rang out, low and mocking, a sound that stoked Jayden's rage to a boiling point.
Without hesitation, Jayden yanked a scroll from his pocket, its parchment crackling as he tore it apart.
A burst of flame roared forth, a searing torrent aimed straight at Leylin. Still chuckling, Leylin raised his Greed Wand, a sleek, rune-etched staff and waved it with casual precision.
"Portego," he intoned, the spell weaving Trevor's Defensive Shield into Greg's Energy Runes, a fusion embedded in the wand's core. (Image)
A shimmering blue barrier sprang up around him, its surface rippling as the fire crashed against it, dissipating harmlessly into wisps of smoke.
Jayden squinted through the haze, his chest heaving, certain Leylin must have taken some damage the scroll had cost him dearly, a fortune spent for its potency.
But before he could catch his breath, Leylin struck back. With a flick of the Greed Wand, he cast "Expelliarmus," a spell of his own design, stacking Thunderstorm Tornado effects into a momentum-driven blast. (Image)
The air crackled as the force slammed into Jayden, who barely raised a defensive rune plate in time. The impact hurled him backward, his body skidding across the dirt and crashing on a tree, but the plate absorbed the worst of it, leaving him dazed yet intact.
Scrambling to his feet, Jayden retaliated with Umbra Hands again, the shadowy tendrils lunging for Leylin's throat. Leylin's silhouette blurred unknown to Jayden, he'd swapped places with a Shadow Slave, a mirage crafted from his dark arts.
Jayden, blind to the ruse, unleashed a Rank 0 plant-based spell—"Verdant Lash"—vines whipping forth to tear through the illusion point-blank. The spell ripped the figure apart, and for a fleeting moment, triumph flashed in Jayden's eyes—until the mirage dissolved into nothingness.
From behind, Leylin struck, his voice a whisper as he cast "Glacialis Lancea." (image)
An icy lance materialized, its tip glinting with frost as it streaked through the air, piercing Jayden's hand and stomach in a spray of blood.
Jayden grunted, his body modifications experiments have toughened his flesh and reinforced bones keeping him alive, though barely. Pain seared through him, his strength waning, but Leylin gave him no reprieve.
Another "Expelliarmus" erupted from the Greed Wand, the stacked force slamming into Jayden's battered form, hurling him like a ragdoll into a tree with a sickening crunch.
Leylin approached, his steps deliberate, the wand dangling loosely at his side. Jayden lay crumpled, his body a ruin burned, bleeding, his artifact cracked and dull, his arm limp, unable to rise. Leylin loomed over him, then dropped the wand, flexing his fists instead.
With the might of a Grand Knight, he struck once, twice, thrice—each punch a thunderous blow to Jayden's skull, bone cracking under the onslaught.
Bloodlust gleamed in Leylin's eyes, thick and unrestrained, as he activated his Knight Killing Technique. A final, devastating punch ruptured Jayden's head, bursting it open in a spray of gore, ending him instantly.
"Should've kept your mouth shut," Leylin said, his voice a low, savage growl, his gaze brimming with primal satisfaction. He wiped his bloodied knuckles on his robe, the crimson stark against the black fabric, and stood tall over the corpse, the secret plane's shadows stretching long and dark around him.