Chapter 109: End·Beginning (Part 2)

  The Wyvern flew at full speed. The mountains and rivers drifted past below as slowly as if they were scenery. But Ethan knew that this apparent slowness was merely an illusion caused by the great distance; even the swiftest thousand-li steed could not match half the speed of this giant reptile. Moreover, this was a completely straight path forward. In just one more day, they would reach Oufu.

  The Wyvern passed through a light cloud, shattering the silk-like cloud into pieces. The moisture in the cloud scraped against Ethan's face at high speed, causing a faint pain. If not for the strange eyepatch on his face, Ethan probably wouldn't have been able to keep his eyes open at all.

  The eyepatch was a piece of leather with two glass lenses set into it. When worn on the head, it allowed one to see through the lenses without being hurt by the wind. This item was clearly custom-made by the skilled artisans of Oufu for guests who ride this peculiar flying beast. Ordinary lizardmen drivers would not need such a thing, as their eyes naturally had a transparent keratin membrane and had no use for such a strange contraption.

  But this was a privilege exclusive to the lizardmen. Ethan was certain that Gru definitely did not have such an organ, yet he appeared even more at ease than the lizardmen. The high-altitude wind was as sharp as a knife; if it were a slightly more delicate ordinary person, a layer of their skin would likely be peeled off. But Gru was as calm and composed as if he were working at a desk. Holding a charcoal pencil, with a piece of leather on his lap, he observed the terrain below while drawing on the leather. His slender, well-formed hand moved the charcoal pencil in rapid strokes, clearly sketching out the hilly terrain below.

  Ethan remembered that the first time he went west, it had taken him a full day to cross this complex hilly terrain. Now, sitting on the Wyvern, they had flown past it in just over ten minutes. Ethan suddenly thought that if he were to travel around the continent on this thing, it would probably take less than a month. But that would be meaningless. Roads are meant to be walked, not flown over.

  "Unexpected to find flies in a place like this," Gru suddenly said with a cold smile. His brows and eyes did not move, only the lines around his mouth changed, forming an expression as cold and hard as a rock.

  "Flies?" Ethan was startled, looking left and right. Under the influence of the Wyvern's presence, there wasn't a single bird to be seen in the vicinity.

  "They're probably here for you," Gru said, putting away the drawn map into his robes and looking coldly down and to the side.

  Ethan followed his gaze and finally saw five small black dots approaching them. Just by their shape and size, he knew they couldn't be flies. The spread wings looked somewhat like those of a bat. But absolutely no bat could possibly fly to such an altitude. Ethan suddenly realized with a start, almost jumping off the Wyvern's back: "Necromancers."

  The five small black dots rapidly approached, their shapes becoming clearer and clearer. Rat-like faces, monkey-like but a hundred times larger bodies, and a pair of huge wings on their backs. They were the same type of gargoyle they had seen outside the Whispering Woods. Moreover, three figures could be seen riding on them.

  "What should we do?" Ethan's forehead began to sweat. "Dive to the ground?"

  These three Necromancers could not possibly just be riding gargoyles and passing through this area for a leisurely flight. In the face of such high-level mages, especially Necromancers, the Wyvern, the most powerful aerial overlord of the continent, was no different from a chicken. And if they were deliberately coming for him, they would not be afraid of him escaping. No matter how fierce the Wyvern was, it was a living creature after all, and its endurance could not compare to that of a magically driven monster like a gargoyle.

  "Go down to the ground to do what? Fly over," Gru replied coldly.

  "Fly where to?" Ethan pulled on the reins, shouting back. Due to the excessive force, the Wyvern let out a muffled groan, its wings flapping with greater effort.

  Gru frowned. He went over and took the reins from Ethan's hand. But instead of continuing to urge the Wyvern forward, he twisted the reins, and the Wyvern turned around, flying toward the gargoyles.

  "What are you doing?" Ethan was greatly alarmed, staring dumbfounded.

  "To see what they really want to do," Gru replied lightly.

  "I think it would be better for us to go down to the ground and find a place to hide." Although Ethan had great confidence in Gru's fighting ability, this was, after all, several thousand meters in the air, not land where one could move freely.

  "We're not rats, what's there to hide?" Gru said lightly.

  Ethan sighed and looked at the five gargoyles that were getting closer and closer. It seemed that in this situation, he could only act according to the circumstances.

  The five gargoyles quickly approached. The silver skull masks of the three Necromancers on them gleamed with a strange light under the high-altitude sun. They did not get too close to the Wyvern, stopping about twenty to thirty meters away and forming a fan shape. The three Necromancers spread out in three directions, watching the two people on the Wyvern.

  "What's wrong? Why aren't you fleeing?" asked the Necromancer on the left. Although his voice sounded unpleasant due to the device in his mouth, the tone of surprise was still audible.

  "Because we don't want to flee," Gru retorted lightly.

  "Then are you here to surrender to us?" the Necromancer on the right nodded, smacking his lips. "It seems your judgment is quite good."

  "What have you come here for?" Ethan asked.

  "Naturally, we've come to kill people. To kill you, and since you're with him, we'll kill him too while we're at it. So you'd better flee quickly," said the Necromancer in the middle. This one should be an old man; despite the mask on his face, his curly white hair and the wrinkled, dark skin around his mouth were visible. His voice seemed a bit irritable. "Whether you've come to surrender because you know what's good for you, or you want to negotiate some terms with us, we won't accept it. You have only one path: death."

  Gru smiled. This originally handsome smile mixed with the light in his eyes. Ethan felt as if he were seeing a leopard grinning.

  "I'm truly sorry. Teacher Nimbus is in a bad mood because he lost a bet." One of the Necromancers chuckled, pointing at Ethan. "He originally thought you should have been far from the royal capital by now. But our acting guild master bet that you would definitely go to the Duke's mansion. He said that before you left, you would definitely go to see that beautiful young Duchess, and all we needed to do was wait by the tree for the rabbit. Sure enough, he was right."

  "Unexpected that your guild master understands me so well," Ethan smiled unnaturally.

  "Is it the Sage Nimbus of Tatalia?" Gru looked at the Necromancer in the middle. "Unexpected that you would be a person from the Necromancer Guild."

  "Since they're calling him by his name in front of us, it seems they really don't intend to leave us alive," Ethan sighed. The Sage Nimbus's status in Tatalia was like that of Bishop Ronis in the Ainfast Empire; even the king had to consult this revered sage on many matters. He wondered what the people of Tatalia would think when they learned that the person they revered was actually a Necromancer. "But since you've already decided we must die, why wear those masks? Why not let us see, so we can be understanding ghosts?"

  "I'm sorry, that's a guild regulation."

  "Don't be afraid. Although we will kill you, you still have a choice in how you die." The Necromancer who liked to laugh chuckled again. He spoke to Ethan in a gentle and friendly tone, as if coaxing a child. "As long as you tell us the whereabouts of the Leaves of the World Tree, saving us the trouble and effort of searching for it, we can let you die a little easier."

  "Then if I don't tell you the whereabouts of the Leaves of the World Tree, doesn't that at least mean I can keep my life?" Ethan replied.

  "If you don't tell us, we will naturally find it ourselves. As long as this thing is still on the continent, it's impossible for it to escape our grasp," the Necromancer sighed, advising Ethan in a very serious, goodwill-filled tone. "I advise you to tell us. Every one of our members is a very busy person, with countless important matters to attend to, and in their spare time, there are many noble and elegant entertainment and artistic activities to enjoy. If you tell us, helping us save that invaluable time, we will naturally repay you. Without pain, perhaps you won't even feel the concept of 'death' before returning to that eternally peaceful kingdom of death."

  But Nimbus shook his head and said, "No need, you should flee. We deliberately brought three people because we anticipated that you would surely resist to the death or try to escape. I haven't experienced the thrill of the hunt for many years." He paused, then said in a tone that was half charity and half provocation: "Perhaps you'll be lucky, maybe you can really escape. It would be very uninteresting if you lost your will to fight just like this."

  The three Necromancers' tone and posture were like those of rulers, appearing very relaxed. But they were not letting their guard down. They knew very well that the people before them were not lambs to the slaughter. But it was precisely because of this that they had sufficient interest.

  While talking, Ethan was observing the breathing, gaze, and mental state of the three Necromancers. As long as there was the slightest opening, an opportunity to exploit, he would immediately strike with all his might.

  But unfortunately. He never found such an opportunity. The three Necromancers were in three different directions. No matter how triumphant they appeared, the three gargoyles they rode always maintained a distance of several tens of meters from the Wyvern. At this altitude of several thousand meters, this distance was enough to prevent any sudden close-range assault. And they formed an equilateral triangle in mid-air, with the distance between each of them being completely equal. Whichever one was attacked, the other two could react and rescue in the first instant.

  A faint magical fluctuation emanated from the three Necromancers, constantly flowing and lingering within the triangle. Although they were complacent, they were not carried away. Each of them was an exceptionally brilliant and outstanding person; they would not make the low-level mistake of becoming careless just because they had the advantage.

  But Ethan did not despair; he even had some hope, because the person behind him should not disappoint him. Even if he couldn't find an opening to strike, that person certainly could.

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  "What's wrong. You should flee quickly." Nimbus seemed a little impatient. A dark green wave of light was jumping on his hand; that was one of the high-level Necromancies, the Death Ripple.

  This spell had little destructive power against objects, but the wave containing death and chaos was fatal to living beings. Moreover, this was an area-of-effect spell; there was almost no point in dodging it. Even if the Wyvern were grazed by this spell, it would lose half its life.

  "I said, from the very beginning, we never thought of fleeing. And I would very much like to ask you a question," Gru's gaze swept across the faces of the three Necromancers as he said, word by word: "Why is it that you don't flee?"

  "Haha..." "Hehe..." All three Necromancers laughed. Nimbus laughed especially heartily, and the green light in his hand suddenly flared.

  But the next instant, like the blinking light of a meteor, that light suddenly disappeared.

  What disappeared along with it was Nimbus's hand. Originally, the control, preparation, and resonance for the spell had been perfectly ready, like a wisp of smoke held in his hand. As soon as he opened his hand, a single, simplest action would cause it to erupt on its own. But he didn't even have time for that simplest action; his hand and the magical energy condensed on it scattered like a pile of shredded paper in the wind.

  The Wyvern's huge body sank downward. The spot where Gru had been standing was now completely caved in, and at the same time, two muffled sounds of breaking ribs came from within the wyvern's body.

  Nimbus's scream was in no way inferior to the Wyvern's. Their screams sounded at the same time, equally piercing, mixing into one.

  Gru, who had been standing still on the Wyvern a moment before, was now standing on the gargoyle, in front of Nimbus. Where he landed was the gargoyle's head, which was now showering stone chips. As he landed on the gargoyle, Gru also extended his hand.

  It was also a hand, and like Nimbus's, it had a layer of light on it, but this one was white. With this white-lit hand, he seemed to just casually reach out and strike, and Nimbus's hand, condensed with green magical light, shattered into a spray of flesh.

  But at the same time, Gru's body also froze. A white glow containing countless tiny, colorful specks of light shone upon him. The countless little specks of light melted into his body the moment they touched, and he immediately froze.

  This pause lasted no more than the blink of an eye. But with just this momentary stagnation, Nimbus was already screaming and retreating, jumping off the gargoyle. The other hand, which would have shattered his head as well, only swept past his chest, bringing up a spray of blood.

  A sure-to-hit attack had actually missed, and he had even been hit by a spell. Gru turned his head and glared at the Necromancer on another gargoyle. A white glow lit up all over his body.

  The Necromancer's whole body shook. He saw the boiling, violent killing intent and fighting spirit in those dark eyes. For the first time in his life, he felt afraid, terrified.

  Although he had been laughing from the start, always believing he had the victory in hand, he could also see that this person should be very powerful, and he understood that he would definitely make a move, and was even clearer that since the other party was so confident, they must have the capital for that confidence. So he laughed heartily, while also condensing a spell, ready to cast it at any moment. He was intentionally waiting for this person to make a move, and could guess that he would surely jump onto the gargoyle. He was waiting to see this person become rigid in mid-air and then fall from this kilometer-high altitude, smashing into a pulp.

  He had indeed anticipated that person's method of attack, but what he had not anticipated was his own reaction. The gap between his gaze, his reaction speed, and the other's movements was so vast. It wasn't until Nimbus's hand shattered and the other's figure paused due to the attack that he realized what was happening and had the opportunity to cast the spell he had long prepared. And it was only because this spell had almost no casting time that he barely managed to save Nimbus's old life.

  This wasn't taking advantage of a weakness or catching someone off guard; this was true strength. This Necromancer knew that if this person had been coming for him, his full vigilance would have been meaningless. Truly, perhaps he wouldn't even have had time to form the concept of "death" before his head, like Nimbus's hand, was shattered.

  In other words, in front of this person, he was no different from an insect. This unprecedented fear instantly swept through all his nerves.

  The top-tier white magic, Paralysis Spell, enough to paralyze an elephant for half an hour, only bought a blink's worth of delay. If this had been a battle between two evenly matched experts, this might have been a fatal opportunity. But the three of them were merely mages. Even the most top-tier mage's physical reactions and judgment are not too different from an ordinary person's; this instant was simply too short.

  This Necromancer did not use another attack spell; his confidence had vanished in an instant. Fear and a sense of urgency made him subconsciously use all his strength to cast a high-level protective white magic, "Divine Aegis of the Heavens." Under the effect of this nearly top-tier white magic, he instantly possessed dozens of auxiliary spells like "Strength," "Blessing," "Luck," "Inspiration," "Stone Skin," and so on.

  Gru bent his knees and jumped. The massive body of the gargoyle beneath his feet instantly shattered into pieces. His figure, in the eyes of the Necromancer enhanced with "Eagle's Eye," turned into a straight, white-light afterimage, shooting like a crossbow bolt toward the gargoyle where the Necromancer was.

  The "Divine Aegis of the Heavens" did indeed protect this Necromancer's life. "Eagle's Eye" let him see Gru's posture as he bent to charge, "Haste" and "Strength" gave him enough reaction time and power to dodge. Without time to control the gargoyle, he, like Nimbus, hastily jumped off.

  The sound of the gargoyle shattering came from behind. The Necromancer, in mid-air, painstakingly made a gesture, chanted an incantation, and used a Flight Spell, desperately flying away. When he turned, he saw that person standing on a gargoyle corpse, bowing and throwing a punch. After a loud boom, the magical beast, dozens of times his size, burst apart, shattering into a pile of rubble that fell toward the ground.

  The sole remaining gargoyle, under the control of that Necromancer, fled the area, speeding down to catch Nimbus, who was falling toward the ground.

  Gru jumped back onto the Wyvern from the falling gargoyle's remains and nodded to Ethan: "Well done."

  When Gru moved, the first to react was Ethan. He immediately began to condense his magical energy, and when the Wyvern screamed, he immediately cast a high-level healing spell on it. Otherwise, the Wyvern, with a broken rib near the root of its wing, would have immediately plunged toward the ground.

  When Nimbus's hand shattered and that Necromancer's Paralysis Spell was cast, another Necromancer was also about to make a move, but Ethan's three fireballs had already reached him. The Necromancer had to use three Lightning Bolts to shatter the fireballs. But with this delay, the opportunity of that momentary paralysis was lost. Seeing Gru's figure, as swift as an arrow and impossible to track with the eyes, the Necromancer dared not make another move and hastily steered his gargoyle into a dive to catch the falling Nimbus.

  The flying Necromancer also landed on the gargoyle. The three Necromancers, their souls still shaken, were now all gathered on the single remaining gargoyle. In this short breath, their emotions had fallen from heaven to reality, crashing painfully. Like learned scholars who proudly looked down on the world suddenly facing a fierce beast, they discovered that the things they relied on and took pride in were as pale and powerless as a joke. Be it magic, wisdom, or skill, all were as useless as trash before that most primal, most savage, most direct speed and power. For the first time, they felt the same powerlessness as ordinary people.

  The lips under the Necromancer's mask were trembling slightly. Whether from anger, pain, or fear, what was destroyed was not just four gargoyles, but their confidence.

  Fear, shock, shame, added to immense pain, became hysterical anger. Nimbus gripped his severed hand, staring fixedly at the Wyvern and screaming like a madman: "Kill him, kill him. I want to kill him."

  Although he looked as if he were mad, these were not ravings. The three of them were, after all, the top mages on the continent. As long as they could create distance and had enough preparation, the advantage was still on their side. After all, as long as they could use a grand incantation, a body of flesh and blood could absolutely not resist.

  But before they could make any preparations, the Wyvern had already roared and suddenly begun to dive straight down toward the gargoyle.

  The opponents on the Wyvern were also very clear that they must not be allowed to create distance to prepare a grand spell. With only one gargoyle left, the Necromancers had little room to maneuver.

  Exactly like before, a figure carrying white light shot out from the Wyvern, rushing toward the gargoyle at a speed almost impossible for the eyes to capture.

  Only the Necromancer empowered with the "Divine Aegis of the Heavens" could still see this faint figure. Although he still could not accurately grasp such a high-speed opponent, the distance was now much greater than before, and he was already raising his magical power to its limit in preparation. Crucially, he could see the direction from which the opponent was charging. But at such speed, no mage could possibly cast a large-scale, high-level spell. He spread his hands, pouring all the magic he had raised to its limit into a low-level spell and cast it instantly.

  A strange cracking sound rang out in mid-air, permeating the air. Then the figure suddenly jolted, its speed decreasing.

  The Necromancer collapsed, kneeling, weakened. The skin outside his mask was pale, and he coughed up a small mouthful of blood. He felt as if the rebounding magical energy had shredded his internal organs.

  The spell was low-level, but to enhance its effect, he had used all of his magical power. The "Force Field Shield," originally used to block arrows and hinder enemies, was a dangerous low-level spell; if the field shattered, the mage's own magic would inevitably become chaotic and cause injury. Although his full-power "Force Field Shield" could have blocked a boulder thrown by a catapult, it was as fragile as a thin sheet of paper under the impact of this figure. If not for the gentle and pure nature of the white magic within him, the magical backlash after the field shattered could have cost him his life.

  But the spell he cast with all his might did achieve its effect. Although Gru was still diving toward them, after breaking through the force field, he had changed from a white light and shadow into a person clearly visible to all.

  Moreover, he was already in mid-air, with no way to gain leverage. The gazes of the other two Necromancers, carrying a corpse-like poison, fell upon him.

  Nimbus let out a sharp cry. Death-green ripples surged and gathered on his remaining hand. The death-green was so thick it was as if he were holding a pool of stagnant water that had rotted for a thousand years. This pool of stagnant water surged and transformed on his hand into an arrow so dense it seemed to have substance.

  Nimbus raised his hand, aiming at the figure in mid-air. No matter how powerful a fighter, floating helplessly in mid-air was nothing more than a living target. The Arrow of Death in his hand was the essence of his decades of magical cultivation; absolutely no person, no creature, could withstand this strike.

  A violent explosion suddenly erupted on Gru's body in mid-air. The violent airflow and flames instantly grew into a large bloom of death in space, and even the gargoyle began to shake from the shockwave. The fireball from the massive explosion instantly engulfed Gru's figure.

  The three Necromancers were all stunned, because none of them had made a move.

  But the next instant, that figure rushed out of the flames, recovering its original high speed and continuing to charge toward the three Necromancers on the gargoyle. The violent magical energy failed to tear him apart; the force of the explosion instead caused him to suddenly accelerate.

  The white aura of fighting spirit on his body had already brightened to its limit. He raised his hand, his slender, well-formed five fingers curling into a fist. Even amidst the sound of the explosion, the three Necromancers felt as if they could hear a boom.

  On the Wyvern, Ethan retracted his palm, breathing heavily with effort. This fireball, faster than an arrow and containing such power, would have been impossible to cast if he hadn't learned a bit from old man Sandro these past two days. Although he and Gru had not coordinated in advance, he knew that this fireball was absolutely the right choice at this moment.

  A look of terror appeared on Nimbus's face. Because of this sudden acceleration, he knew that the spell in his hand could not possibly be faster than this punch. But he felt his collar tighten, and his body suddenly began to hang in the air, moving backward.

  Gru's foot finally landed on the gargoyle's head. The incomparably hard black rock instantly began to crack and shatter. But the gargoyle was now empty; no one was on it.

  The three Necromancers were already in the air. Or rather, it should be said that it was just one Necromancer, holding the other two.

  Just as the first Necromancer collapsed from exhaustion and Nimbus prepared to attack, the Necromancer standing at the rear had not been idle either; he had also been gathering his magical power. When the explosion occurred and Gru in mid-air accelerated, especially when he saw that raised fist, a subconscious fear involuntarily transformed the magical power he had also intended to use for an attack into the motivation for escape.

  In terms of physical ability, he was indeed an old man not much different from an ordinary person, with no sharp physical movements, let alone explosive power. If it were just a matter of physical dodging, he would have been enough to die a thousand times over. But the magic he had refined for his entire life, when used, had a speed almost no less than that of the opponent charging toward him. He grabbed the backs of his two companions and immediately shot into the sky like a startled vulture, shouting at the same time: "So it was you that day."

  "So it was you who killed Asri that day." The Necromancer, dragging his two companions in mid-air, roared loudly. In his eyes, half was anger and half was fear.

  Gru did not answer. He bent his knees, jumped, and the gargoyle's head beneath his feet shattered. He once again flew straight toward the three Necromancers in the high sky, like a crossbow bolt.

  But this time, he missed.

  Fear had ground the nerves of the Necromancer in mid-air to the point of extreme sensitivity. Almost as soon as Gru bent his knees, the Necromancer began to make evasive movements, dragging his two companions to slide aside like a fish in water. Gru shot past them, just a few meters away.

  Nimbus watched the figure as it passed by. The panic in his eyes was completely gone, replaced by ferocity. The magic in his hand had already taken shape. He raised his hand, holding the Arrow of Death, condensed purely from magical fluctuations, and swung it at the passing Gru, shouting: "Go..."

  The word that should have followed was probably "die." He should have shouted "Go die." But Nimbus did not shout it out, because his mouth was suddenly gone.

  Not just his mouth, his entire head was completely shattered. It wasn't like a smashed egg or tomato, with bits flying everywhere; his head suddenly became a small firework that exploded silently. The other two Necromancers were evenly covered in his blood, flesh, bone fragments, and other bits. The silver skull mask was the only thing on his head that didn't shatter, but it was also completely twisted and deformed into a piece of scrap.

  Without the head, the Arrow of Death in his hand, which had been just a moment away from being released, let out a "poof" sound and dissipated.

  Without diminishing his momentum, Gru, still shooting upward, retracted his fist and took a breath. He showed a hint of fatigue for the first time, because the distance between him and this Necromancer when he threw the punch had been a full twenty meters.

  The flying Necromancer froze for a moment, then immediately let out a sound of extreme terror.

  His fear was not from seeing his companion's death, but because he knew that if not for Nimbus's impending attack, the one that would have been shattered was his head.

  There was no prior sign, let alone any magical fluctuation. He only seemed to see that person turn in mid-air after rapidly passing by, a fist emitting white light striking out at the empty air, and then Nimbus's head exploded. Only then did he, through his subtle perception of air flow, sense the anomaly in the air. This was not magic, but pure power and speed. That punch thrown at the void was simply too fast and too powerful; it actually "punched" the air itself. The ball of air thrown by this punch perhaps only had a few dozenths of the power of the punch itself, but for a human head, it was more than enough.

  Without any hesitation, the Necromancer dropped Nimbus's headless corpse and dragged his other companion, flying toward the distance. Several times faster than when they had come on the gargoyles, they became a small black dot in the blink of an eye.

  Gru's speed slowly decreased as he gained altitude, then he began to fall. Ethan steered the Wyvern and caught him.

  Standing back on the Wyvern, Gru looked a bit disheveled. But this dishevelment was caused by Ethan. The fireball that exploded on his back had almost completely shredded his clothes, revealing a body sculpted with powerful beauty. His hair seemed to be mostly burnt, and his face was a bit blackened. But his expression was one of relief and approval. He smiled at Ethan: "Good explosion."

  Ethan also smiled: "You fought even better."

  "I must be more careful in the future," Gru sighed, as if not very satisfied with the battle just now. "Unexpected that dealing with these three flies was a bit more troublesome than I anticipated."

  "A bit?" Ethan asked.

  "A bit." Gru nodded.