The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 95

"What do you need it for?" Alavin shoved his hand away.

"Lend it to me," the boy's voice was weak and blurry.

Alavin, moved with pity, hesitated, "Just for a moment."

The boy took the Dawnedge Blade and examined it carefully. The sword's surface was smooth and antiqued, showing no sign of wear where it had cut through shackles. His gaze flickered, a glint of brightness passing through the emptiness. His fingertips lightly touched the ancient blade, causing it to vibrate and emit a clear, ringing sound.

"What are you going to do with it? These chains are..." Alavin started to ask, but the boy suddenly turned and retreated into the dense forest, vanishing!

Alavin, taken aback, almost cursed and hurriedly followed, "Halt! Are you borrowing or stealing?"

The boy's speed was extraordinary, and he disappeared in an instant.

"Where is he?" Alavin, frustrated, searched anxiously. But suddenly, a surge of sword energy erupted from the forest ahead, shooting straight into the sky, its brilliance overwhelming, like a hurricane rising up and howling through the trees. Accompanied by a thunderous roar, the ground trembled as if an immense force was exploding.

The tide of sword energy was like a destructive hurricane. The air waves rampaged, and swarms of energy engulfed large swathes of the old forest.

Alavin retreated in shock, keeping a safe distance from the raging air waves. What in the world? Was this the power of the Dawnedge Blade? Or... Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Clang!!

The Dawnedge Blade fell from the sky, embedding itself in a stone before him, quivering slightly. Its brilliance was blinding, and fierce energy entwined the blade.

Alavin frowned, wary of the ancient sword and also of the forest.

The sword trembled for a long time before it calmed, and its sharp sword energy dissipated. However, the person who had wielded it did not appear again.

Alavin picked up the ancient sword, proceeding with caution. Ahead, in a clearing of the forest, he found a devastated area several dozen meters wide, with dust and debris falling like rain. The air was hazy and obscure.

This energy was too strong; it could attract nearby powerful beings. It was not wise to linger. Alavin retreated decisively, making his way towards Griffin's Roost.

He would treat this strange occurrence as if it never happened. After all, it truly had nothing to do with him.

Alavin crossed over a dozen high mountains, avoiding many dangers. At one point, he nearly got surrounded by a group of mercenaries, but finally, on the afternoon of the next day, he returned to the vicinity of Griffin's Roost.

"Alavin? What are you doing here?" A middle-aged man on patrol happened upon him, puzzled by the direction from which he came. No, it was more the fact that Alavin was still alive that was surprising. The Great Hunt had been underway for half a month, and with the pursuit efforts of Adirich and others, Alavin shouldn't have lasted long. Yet, there he was, looking well and dressed sharply.

"I went out to hide for a bit," Alavin greeted and then left.

The Protégé realized, Ah, he had hidden himself, a clever lad. He lay low to tire out Adirich and his lot, then returned to action. But this young man was quite bold to move around outside Griffin's Roost. Cobalt Strike marked Griffin's Roost as hunting grounds, allowing nearly a thousand Protégés to roam freely because they had cleared the area in advance, transferred the particularly powerful Magi-Monsters, and controlled the risk to a manageable level. Beyond Griffin's Roost lay the pure wild, with danger tenfold greater. For a mere Protégé to have safely hidden for more than ten days was incredible.

On the afternoon of Alavin's safe return to Griffin's Roost, in a distant forest, a team clad in black and wearing masks finally found their target, the fleeing boy. But instead of joy, they were struck by terror and despair.

In the disordered woods ahead, a disheveled boy stood, his head bowed, hands drooping, looking very weak and hardly able to stand. Yet, the black-clad figures in front of him stepped back in horror as if they’d seen a monster. Their faces were pale, screaming in fear.

"Where are your shackles? Your seal?"

"No, no! Who has broken your seal?"

"Impossible! No, no..."

The boy slowly raised his head, and from beneath his tangled hair, a pair of blood-red eyes shone.

"Your eyes... your power..."

"No!!"

The team in black retreated in terror, their expressions exaggerated, as if they had seen a monstrous horror.

Whoosh! The boy vanished, and in an instant, he reappeared in the very center of the black-clad group.

At that moment, everyone's faces changed with horror and despair; they screamed, but there was no resistance, no escape, only fear.