In the early morning, the sun rose from the horizon, and the dawn light illuminated the entire Western Mountains.
Herag crawled out of the tent, breathing in the fresh mountain air.
A drop of dew fell from the branches above, landing on his face with a chilly sensation. Chapters first released on novᴇlfire.net
The campfire outside the tent had already gone out, with only some embers still radiating warmth.
Herag tossed a few dry sticks into the fire pit, manipulated the fire energy particles, and reignited the fire.
A pot hung over the fire, containing last night’s unfinished food, which he intended to heat up as breakfast.
Fred heard the commotion and woke sleepily.
Not every wizard substitutes meditation for sleep every day. Many cannot commit to such diligence and self-discipline as Herag does.
For someone like Fred, who has difficulty advancing to an official wizard, it’s even harder to persist, so he chose to sleep comfortably.
Herag was stirring the porridge in the pot when his hand suddenly stopped, and sweat began to bead on his forehead.
A multicolored shield appeared instantaneously, leaving Fred somewhat perplexed, not understanding what had happened.
In the next second, a terrifying aura descended from the sky, pinning Fred entirely to the ground.
A blood-red hand fell from the sky, directly targeting Herag.
The shield on Herag’s body endured for a few seconds before developing spiderweb-like cracks and then shattering.
Immediately following, Herag was flung out, spitting a mouthful of fresh blood while airborne.
Seizing the opportunity, he took out the Whispering Water Ball and immediately notified Batty.
The term surfaced in Herag’s mind; only an official wizard could possess such an aura, and only an official wizard could break through his Absolute Defense with one strike.
"Shenlan, how many degrees was the attack just now?"
"After testing, the attack intensity was approximately 21 degrees."
Herag’s expression was grave; such an attack was undeniably a Level 1 spell, on a different scale from standard Level 0 spells.
When he landed on the ground, all beneficial magic spells were already cast on him.
The current issue was that he didn’t know who the enemy was, nor where they were.
While he was cooking porridge, Shenlan detected intense magic power fluctuations, prompting him to use Absolute Defense immediately.
A slight delay would have resulted in being smacked into a pulp.
In his current physical state, without magical enhancements, there’s no way he could withstand that 21-degree blood hand.
Soon, Herag heard a familiar yet strange voice: "You were able to survive? I initially intended to slap you to death, then slowly probe your soul."
A man shrouded in a black robe riding a Night Steed appeared mid-air in front of Herag.
This person had brown hair, a face full of freckles, and was squinting with a harmless smile.
"Malcolm," Herag subconsciously uttered the name.
Before embarking on the wizard path, he had witnessed Malcolm curse and kill Baron Buck at Melissa’s wedding.
Back then, he was nothing more than an ant in front of Malcolm, unworthy of even a glance.
From Malcolm’s expression, it was clear he had no recollection of Herag, didn’t remember meeting him.
After these years, Herag found himself still powerless against Malcolm, the vast disparity in strength turned him into a slightly stronger ant, meriting an extra glance.
"Lune’s death is related to you," Malcolm slowly spoke these words.
"Lune? The Third Class Wizard Apprentice that Shivara killed?" Herag recalled.
Malcolm coldly declared, "It’s indeed related to you. I don’t know why his soul seems absent from this world, making me spend an extensive amount of time summoning Lune’s soul back. I could only glimpse some fragments from his soul due to the long interval, and you appeared in them."
"Except for Shivara, the Abyssal Demon, you’re the only person in those memory fragments I don’t recognize. I spent some time investigating your identity. Herag Merlin, Third Class Wizard Apprentice from Moonlight Forest, discovered via divination and locating that you’re actually in the Western Mountains."
"What a godsend opportunity. If you stayed put in Moonlight Forest, I’d have been helpless. But being here allows me to directly come and take your soul for a slow interrogation."
Herag took a deep breath, "Lune’s death has nothing to do with me; Shivara killed him."
Malcolm laughed, "I never trust anyone’s words, only the truth seen from the depths of a soul. Lune’s soul, due to the passage of time, holds too fragmented images. But you’re alive, and your soul must harbor the entire sequence of events, which I’ll recognize at a glance."
Herag clenched his fist, hoping Batty would arrive soon.
He absolutely couldn’t let Malcolm capture him because he harbored numerous secrets.
If captured and Malcolm learned Herag possessed Shenlan’s Chip, Malcolm would undoubtedly go mad, using all means to try to extract Shenlan.
Additionally, Herag had his memories of the past life, and the Meditation Method inheritance of the Sixth Ring Tower, secrets that must remain hidden.
More importantly, if caught, death would be the least of his worries. Given Malcolm’s usual methods, Herag would surely find living worse than death.
"What spells comprise the shield on you? It’s not a Level 1 spell, yet it endured my strike, how strange," Malcolm frowned, seemingly puzzled.
Herag naturally ignored him, every muscle tense, watching Malcolm’s movements closely.
He cast another Absolute Defense Shield on himself while checking his remaining magic power: 24%, plus the 74% stored in the Array Map.
Malcolm pondered for a moment without conclusions before turning to Herag: "Looking at your soul will reveal the truth."
He smiled, once again conjuring a blood hand, reaching for Herag.
Just as the blood hand was closing in, Herag’s form twisted and vanished, reappearing several meters away in the forest.
Malcolm let out a stunned exclamation, "You know Flash? Quite intriguing."
His interest in Herag grew, a slight thrill appearing on his face, "You will certainly be an excellent specimen."
"Originally, there was a fun specimen, but I carelessly let him escape. Now I’ll use you to compensate for my amusement," Malcolm spoke slowly.
Upon hearing his words, Herag quickly grasped his meaning; the specimen he referred to was likely Fegar.
"Remaining magic power: 11%."
Currently, each use of Flash consumes 13% of magic power, leaving Herag with only enough magic power for three more flashes, while Malcolm’s blood hand was already forming again.