Chapter 269: The Gloomy City, Helvar (2)

“Do you feel like the farther we walk, the thicker the mist becomes?” Merlin asked in a low voice.

Lyserra nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Be careful—there’s a threat ahead.”

Merlin didn’t let his guard down and heightened his vigilance.

Just then, a cold wind blew from ahead. At the same time, the mist thickened until it completely obscured their view.

Merlin’s alertness peaked as he prepared for battle.

“The enemy is coming,” he whispered, placing Lyserra on his right shoulder.

He raised the Arkan Magic Staff in his left hand. The staff was beautiful, with faint purple lines glowing along its shaft.

Whoosh!

The staff flared, and the mist within a five-meter radius instantly dispersed.

However, there was no one around, leaving Merlin slightly confused.

“Could it be my imagination?” He frowned.

“No, it’s not your imagination. I sense several people hiding within the mist, ready to attack you,” Lyserra warned.

“Oh?” His eyes widened slightly. “I see. So that’s their game. Lyserra, show me the direction of their magical fluctuations. I’ll force them out.”

The opponents’ power was above his, so he couldn’t perceive the illusions they had created. Even so, he wasn’t afraid.

In battle, strength alone didn’t determine the outcome.

Understanding one’s specialty mattered just as much—and in this field, he was a master.

Lyserra carefully scanned the surroundings, then smiled faintly.

“Seven meters to your right, there’s one fluctuation. Over there, about eight meters away, there are two more. Do it now, or they’ll move!”

Merlin nodded. Without hesitation, he slammed his magic staff into the ground.

A faint vibration spread outward for ten meters. Moments later, the ground shook as sharp thorns burst from below, destroying everything within the area.

Whoosh!

Three figures suddenly shot into the air before landing in front of Merlin. They wore cloaks and masks, hiding their faces from view.

“You’re quite impressive, kid. We really underestimated you,” said the man in the black mask.

The other two—wearing green and red masks—nodded in agreement.

“Unfortunately, this is your end!”

The three lunged at Merlin at high speed. Daggers appeared in their hands and slashed toward his head.

Their goal was simple: kill him quickly.

Realizing this, Merlin did not flinch. Just before the attack reached him, his body blurred and vanished.

The three were shocked and looked around, but he was gone—as if swallowed by the earth.

“You’re careless!”

A mocking voice rang out from above. When they looked up, they saw Merlin floating in the air, a magic circle three meters in diameter spinning above his head.

“Goodbye.”

A cynical smile curved his lips.

Whoosh!

A fireball shot out from the magic circle and plunged toward them.

Panicked, they tried to dodge, but it was already too late.

The ground beneath them collapsed, forming a crater two meters deep.

“No!”

A heart-wrenching scream echoed as the fireball struck, melting the three of them into nothingness.

The fire continued to burn relentlessly within the hole.

Merlin slowly descended to the ground, a puzzled expression on his face.

“They’re really weak. Did I overestimate them?” He scratched his head.

In fact, he hadn’t even used ten percent of his power.

At first, he had expected an exciting battle. However, reality proved quite the opposite—everything had gone too easily.

“I’m not surprised by this outcome. Did you think reaching a level below the Fifth Spirit Core was easy?” Lyserra rolled her eyes. “It requires B-level or even A-level talent. Their numbers are very small, so you should understand how they managed to reach that level, right?”

Her words snapped Merlin out of his confusion.

He took a slow breath and nodded. “I understand. That makes sense.”

For those without special powers, there was only one way to awaken: by consuming a special potion.

In the novel, this potion was widely sold. Of course, it was classified as a forbidden item and strictly prohibited. Those who dared to use it rarely lived long.

After all, ordinary people were not meant to possess special powers.

Furthermore, most who awakened through the forbidden potion eventually joined evil organizations, becoming a scourge upon the kingdoms of this world.

“Well then, let’s go.”

Merlin turned and walked away. The recent chaos hadn’t caused a ripple in his heart.

The mist around him gradually thinned, though it didn’t completely disappear.

He continued forward until, without realizing it, he found himself standing before a monument about two and a half meters tall.

It was a city monument, badly damaged, as if it had been struck by an immensely powerful attack.

“Are you sure this is the way?” Merlin asked doubtfully.

He scanned his surroundings but found nothing of interest.

Lyserra shifted her gaze to the monument.

“There’s a secret path behind it.”

Merlin nodded and approached the monument, circling it as he searched for the “secret path” she had mentioned.

Suddenly, he noticed a small hole between the rocks to his left. Without hesitation, he pried them apart.

The hole widened, revealing a passageway leading underground. It wasn’t very large—only one person could pass through at a time.

He stepped down carefully. An unpleasant smell filled the air, as if the place had been long neglected.

The stairs were slick, forcing him to tread cautiously.

When he reached the final step, a long, pitch-dark passageway stretched out before him.

’It feels like there’s a trap waiting inside,’ he whispered.

His intuition warned him of danger.

“Lyserra, go back. Let me handle this.”

Lyserra looked at him for a moment, then gave a small nod. She trusted Merlin’s abilities.

Because he was confident, she believed he could handle whatever lay ahead.

Her form turned into light and vanished from sight.

Merlin took out the invisibility cloak he had obtained back then and put it on.

Instantly, his body vanished from sight, and he walked toward the darkness ahead.

***

“This city is really quiet. Those evil people are so cruel,” Jason muttered, shaking his head.

He was a proud man. To him, the weak did not deserve his respect.

But using power to harm those weaker than oneself was a cowardly and unforgivable act.

His steps suddenly stopped in front of a bakery on the left. He walked toward the ruined shop and noticed a pile of bread that was still edible in the display window.

As he reached out to take it, a chill ran down his neck.

He quickly ducked and leaped forward.

“Too bad my attack failed. Just as expected of you, Jason Kirk—very impressive.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep