Chapter 75: The Old Monster’s Last Stand

Inside the blacksmith shop, the suffocating pressure receded like a tide.

Lia’s rigid body suddenly slackened, and only then did she realize that the clothes on her back were thoroughly soaked with cold sweat, clinging uncomfortably to her skin and sending shivers down her spine.

She cast a glance at the black scrolls clutched in her hand, then meticulously tucked them back into her spatial ring.

In that fleeting moment, she had genuinely been prepared to raze this small area to the ground.

Fortunately, the old monster valued his life more than she had anticipated.

Only after confirming that the other party’s aura had vanished entirely from her range of perception did Lia finally exhale a long, ragged breath, her nerves, taut to their breaking point, at last finding release.

The repercussions of her excessive mental exertion now surged through her, a potent wave of dizziness assailing her mind, causing everything before her eyes to blur into a double image.

Leaning against the wall, she sought to steady herself, intending to depart from this perilous place without delay.

However, she had severely overestimated her current condition.

Her legs gave out, and her body swayed precariously.

“Ugh…”

With a suppressed whimper, Lia fell heavily to the ground, the impact echoing with a sharp thud.

***

Deep within the valley, the stone house lay in utter disarray.

Karen von Kellers, the ancient monster who had lived for centuries, was frantically gathering his research materials.

He tossed the manuscripts detailing the core theories of life-stealing into an alchemical furnace, reducing them to ashes with a burst of flame.

Not a single trace could be left behind.

He knew Horace’s methods all too well.

As he cleared the room, he swiftly retrieved several pre-prepared spatial pouches from a hidden compartment, stuffing them with invaluable materials he couldn’t bear to part with and a reserve of gold coins.

Simultaneously, he produced several forged research notes, which outlined an entirely erroneous theoretical path and deliberately included clues pointing towards the southern reaches of the kingdom.

He scattered these notes haphazardly across the table, fabricating the illusion of a panicked flight, leaving no time to gather them.

Having completed these preparations, he cast a final glance around the lair he had occupied for centuries.

He had to leave immediately!

Yet, the instant he turned to depart, his movements seized.

Within the shadows of the stone house, a figure had appeared, unnoticed.

The individual stood there silently, as though they had been present from the very start, or perhaps had just coalesced from the surrounding gloom.

Karen’s heart lurched to a halt.

As an Eight-Ring Mage, his senses had long since merged with his surroundings, yet the newcomer’s appearance had not stirred even a faint ripple of magical energy, nor had it altered the slightest current of air.

A chilling dread shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

He snapped his head up, his horrified gaze fixed upon the figure.

The newcomer was clad in a well-tailored black mage’s robe, their figure tall and commanding.

Beneath a fringe of dark, short hair, a pale face bore sharp, defined features.

What truly made Karen’s pupils constrict was the emblem pinned to the figure’s chest, meticulously crafted from mithril and stardust sand.

The outline of an eight-pointed star, signifying an Eight-Ring Archmage, certified by the Council of Mages.

Karen’s mind raced, forcibly suppressing the burgeoning fear.

“Is Your Excellency dispatched by the Council,” he rasped, “or merely a lackey of that old stubborn Horace?”

He spoke, attempting to stall for time while simultaneously trying to ascertain the other’s identity.

His arms were concealed beneath his voluminous sleeves, and in his left hand, a black orb of pure negative energy was rapidly coalescing, countless wailing specters swirling within it, emanating a truly disquieting aura.

‘Seven-Ring Spell: Wraith’s Scream.’

Meanwhile, his right hand was silently sketching out an even more intricate magical construct.

Space itself subtly warped at his fingertips, an almost imperceptible rift being forcibly torn open, leading to a pre-established coordinate.

‘Eight-Ring Instant Cast Spell: Chaotic Leap.’

If the Wraith’s Scream could just disrupt his opponent’s judgment for a mere instant, he would immediately escape via teleportation.

He refused to believe that an Eight-Ring Mage could both endure a Seven-Ring Spell and simultaneously thwart his Eight-Ring Instant Cast.

The man opposite offered no reply to his question, merely observing him with a pair of ice-blue eyes that held an unnerving, chilling indifference.

“Now!”

A ruthless glint flashed in Karen’s eyes, and the two spells concealed within his sleeves unleashed their power in a sudden, guttural roar—!

The shriek did not assault the ears, but rather directly assailed the spiritual realm.

The entire stone house vibrated violently under this immense power, as countless twisted, anguished spectral faces spewed forth from the black orb of energy, swarming overwhelmingly towards the man.

Concurrently, the spatial rift behind Karen abruptly widened, and without a moment’s hesitation, he spun around and plunged headfirst into it!

Yet, just as half of his body had vanished into the spatial rift, a hand casually settled upon his shoulder.

Time, in that instant, seemed to freeze.

The Wraith’s Scream, potent enough to shatter the sanity of a Seven-Ring Mage, simply dissolved three feet before the man, much like ice and snow melting silently beneath the sun’s rays.

Moreover, the already formed spatial rift was forcibly smoothed away by the man’s sheer will, returning to its original, unbroken state.

Karen stiffly turned his head, his face a mask of utter horror.

“Karen von Kellers.”

The other man’s voice was utterly devoid of inflection, yet his words resonated with piercing clarity in Karen’s ears.

“Three centuries ago, the Lord of Silverstream City, for encroaching upon your lands, had his entire household annihilated by your hand.

Three thousand citizens of that city were likewise drained of their life force, becoming the inaugural cornerstone of your quest for immortality.”

“One hundred and seventy years ago, at Frostwhisper Fortress in the Northern Reaches, you attempted the same heinous act, only to be discovered by a passing Horace, escaping by the barest margin.”

“Seventy-eight years ago, you settled near Falling Leaf Town, disseminating rumors of treasure maps, thereby transforming greedy adventurers into sustenance for your wretched, prolonged existence.”

With each pronouncement from the man, Karen’s face grew progressively paler.

These were secrets buried in the deepest recesses of his heart; it was utterly impossible for anyone else to know them.

As the final word dropped, Karen, surprisingly, regained a measure of composure.

He realized then that merely escaping would not allow him to leave unscathed today.

If that were the case…

“Did Horace send you?” Karen slowly straightened, a furious fire igniting in his eyes.

“Horace?” The man offered a faint, dismissive smile, as though he had just heard a particularly amusing jest.

“What is he to presume he can send me?”

The man extended his right hand, seizing at the empty air.

Karen observed a transparent luminescence shimmering around his body.

The next moment, this light was drawn inward by an unseen force, rapidly constricting, until it instantly formed a cocoon of light that completely encased him.

Within this luminous prison, Karen could distinctly perceive the blood coursing through his veins, each drop seemingly imbued with its own life, swirling and boiling.

His muscles, his bones, even the very essence of his soul flame, were all affected by the light, beginning to tremble, to tear, and even to dissolve!

This was no mere energy restraint; it was a spell designed to utterly obliterate his very existence!

The power within Karen surged with frantic intensity, yet he found himself utterly unable to break free.

Within this light cocoon, all resistance proved futile.

He understood that the power emanating from this light cocoon transcended anything he could comprehend.

What he perceived was the supreme, overarching law embedded within that formidable power!

The chilling breath of death instantly enveloped him.

He had never once imagined that his life would conclude in such a manner.

Yet, he refused to yield!

So many tasks remained incomplete, so many enigmas unsolved.

Suddenly, an even more colossal surge of power erupted from within him.

In this critical moment of life and death, he had broken through!

The light cocoon encasing Karen shattered instantly.

He burst forth from the shattered cocoon, his form momentarily suspended in the air.

Then, his eyes glowed blood-red, and a chilling aura emanated from his entire being, like a demon god unleashed from the depths of hell.

His aura was now far more potent, far more terrifying than before!

The man’s brow furrowed slightly, clearly not having anticipated Karen’s ability to achieve a breakthrough under such dire circumstances.

“Quite interesting,” the man murmured, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“However, this only makes things more entertaining.”

He extended his hand once more.

This time, a sphere of energy, black as midnight ink, materialized in his palm, emanating a truly chilling resonance.

The energy sphere condensed in the air, finally transforming into a jet-black beam of light that shot instantly towards Karen.

Karen neither flinched nor dodged; with power surging wildly within him, he abruptly clasped his hands together, conjuring a colossal black vortex before him.

The jet-black beam plunged into the vortex, instantly consumed.

The vortex spun, converting the beam’s formidable power, then retaliating.

A beam of jet-black light, even more condensed and potent, shot forth from the vortex, hurtling directly towards the man.

The man’s expression remained unperturbed; with a mere wave of his hand, the jet-black beam dissipated into thin air.

“Well, well,” the man nodded, a hint of appreciative smile gracing his lips.

“To be able to convert my power and then counterattack, you are indeed exceptional.”

Karen did not speak; he merely stared fixedly at the man, his eyes blazing with intense battle intent.

The two men instantly clashed.

The entire stone house trembled violently, cracks spiderwebbing across its walls, as if it might collapse at any moment.

Their figures flickered within the stone house, each collision erupting with an earth-shattering roar.

Karen’s fists struck with terrifying force; each swing made the very space groan under the strain.

The man, however, seemed to move with effortless grace, merely deflecting Karen’s attacks with a casual wave of his hand.

The battle between them raged for a considerable time.

Karen’s stamina was steadily depleting, yet he fought with increasing ferocity, as if fueled by an endless reserve.

A flicker of surprise crossed the man’s eyes; he had not expected Karen’s endurance to be so astonishing.

“You are quite capable,” the man said, a note of admiration in his voice.

“But this is where it ends.”

He suddenly unleashed a terrifying burst of power, forcing Karen back.

Following this, he clasped his hands together, and intricate runes began to shimmer before him, ultimately forming a gate of abyssal black.

The gate exuded a chilling aura, as if it connected to another realm.

“That’s… the Gate of Hell!” Karen’s face paled dramatically, as he sensed the soul-shaking aura emanating from the portal.

“Indeed,” the man sneered, a cold smile playing on his lips.

“Enter, for this is your final resting place.”

From the black gate, countless dark tentacles snaked forth, coiling around Karen.

Karen struggled, but found his body frozen, utterly unable to move.

The tentacles wrapped around him, dragging him towards the gate.

Karen’s consciousness began to blur; he knew he was being pulled into hell.

In the moment before he was fully swallowed by the gate, he glimpsed the man’s mocking smile.

“Horace… you truly…”

His words were cut short, utterly consumed.

The black gate slowly closed, eventually vanishing.

The entire stone house returned to stillness, as if nothing had ever transpired.

The man stood still, a playful expression on his face.

He gazed at the spot where Karen had disappeared, a faint curve on his lips.

“The game is over.”

He turned to walk out of the stone house.

But just as he turned, he suddenly paused.

“Wait… what’s that?”

He noticed a jet-black ring left behind where Karen had vanished.

The ring emitted a faint ripple of energy.

The man reached out and picked up the ring.

The moment his fingers brushed the ring, a powerful force erupted from it, instantly engulfing him!

The jet-black ring flickered with a faint light, then the light vanished, and the ring disappeared as well.

The entire stone house returned to calm once more.

“Why didn’t he come himself? Is he afraid?” Karen’s internal magic began to surge, foul grey energy spewing from his body, transforming into countless hideous tentacles that stabbed at the man from all directions.

Each tentacle contained evil power capable of instantly draining a Seven-Ring Mage.

The opponent raised his right hand, fingers splayed.

A transparent barrier made of forcefield energy instantly expanded before him.

The hideous tentacles crashed against the barrier as if hitting an indestructible wall; no matter how they twisted or gnawed, they could not advance an inch.

“Touch of Decay!” Karen roared, as more tentacles surged from behind him, coalescing into a colossal grey hand that slammed fiercely against the forcefield barrier.

But the opponent merely waved his left hand casually.

A crimson line of fire appeared out of thin air, precisely slicing through the base of all the tentacles.

Those tentacles, composed of corrupted life force, were utterly obliterated at their root by the pure law of destruction contained within the fireline, leaving not even a speck of ash.

Karen grunted, his body trembling violently.

He looked at the opponent’s effortlessly cast forcefield and elemental spells, a cold dread filling his heart.

“I don’t believe it! I don’t believe anyone can kill me!”

Karen abruptly clasped his hands together, detonating all the centuries of accumulated,杂乱 life force within him without reservation!

A colossal monster, patched together from countless severed limbs and anguished faces, coalesced within the stone house.

It let out an earth-shattering roar, opening its blood-soaked maw and lunging to devour the man!

This was the ultimate creation of his theory!

Facing this terrifying monster, capable of corrupting an entire land, the man merely frowned slightly.

He raised his hand, and an incredibly simple spell model lit up in his palm.

That gentle white light was all too familiar to Karen.

It was a basic spell every magic apprentice learned upon initiation.

Purification.