Chapter 235: See You In Hell

The title of mage, a tier of mastery equivalent to that of the grand knight, represents not merely strength, but an entirely new plane of comprehension and control over magic. Upon crossing that threshold, a magician’s grasp of mana will evolve. The world itself becomes fundamentally different.

Rudolf, too, was a mage. Unfortunately, he had chosen to invest that formidable power primarily in magical research.

In terms of magical theory and technique, his insight was peerless. Yet combat had never been about sheer force or quantity of spells alone. Combat tested how much of one’s strength could be wielded in the moment—and how well.

Having sworn fealty to the royal family early on, Rudolf devoted most of his resources to gathering esoteric knowledge and uncovering curiosities. He rarely faced actual battles—after all, mages advanced differently from knights.

In most situations, a mage’s power sufficed to obliterate enemies outright. Even when lacking martial prowess, a mage’s command over mana was enough to pulverize most foes.

But not now. Not against Wang Yu, who had returned from the brink at full strength. Not with Avia standing at his back. A monster reborn, a prodigy unbound—two opponents fighting as one.

“Avia, pass me some alchemical alloy,”

Wang Yu’s voice carried through the newfound power that now coursed through him. Without hesitation, Avia opened a rift in space. From within spilled her carefully hoarded cache of alchemical reagents and metals.

The metals clattered at Wang Yu’s feet. Then the power within him—the Chariot—surged forth and engulfed them. The radiance of his body twisted, summoned, and reshaped the alloys. They crawled across his form like living armor, affixing tightly to his frame until he stood sheathed in thick, gleaming plating.

Broader and more massive, Wang Yu now exuded raw, oppressive force.

And rightfully so. The alchemical metals were unnaturally dense. As they fused to his body, his weight increased dramatically. The stone floor beneath his feet cracked with each step.

The grinding of metal filled the air as he flexed his limbs. The armored helm concealed his face, turning him into something more akin to an alchemical construct rather than a living knight.

Due to concerns over agility and defense, Wang Yu had rarely worn anything heavier than light armor before.

But this was different. These metals bent to his will like blood to a spellcaster. They enhanced, rather than hindered him—adding not only protection, but also power.

His massive metal fist drove into the floor, leaving a crater in its wake. The impact sent energy coursing into the ground, which rumbled in response. Earth and stone rose into a tidal wave of soil that surged toward Rudolf.

Rudolf’s expression darkened. He was still reeling with disbelief. Wang Yu had somehow returned to full strength—and was displaying an entirely alien power. A knight whose vortex of fighting spirit had been shattered by the Spike of Dissolution should have been utterly crippled. And yet…

He didn’t want to face the two of them without preparation. The unknown strength Wang Yu now displayed was disquieting. But Avia? She was the true threat. He had to admit it—she frightened him more. Her mastery of both magic and wizardry posed a danger even to a veteran mage like him.

Yet he couldn’t allow either of them to escape. The royal family was already enraged. If he failed to stop these two, the ones behind this disaster, he would bear the brunt of their wrath. The court had no tolerance for failure.

“As a mage, I can at least buy time,” he murmured. “But where are the reinforcements? Why haven’t they come…?”

Rudolf’s thoughts churned. He had no intention of dying for anything unrelated to his research. His plan was simple: stall long enough for the royal guards to notice the disturbance and encircle the dungeon.

Drawing a spare wand from his belt, he sent a surge of earth mana into the ground. Jagged spires of stone erupted, clashing against the earthen wave Wang Yu had summoned. Shards and rubble burst skyward as the forces collided.

Meanwhile, bolstered by his status as a mage, Rudolf unleashed magic in a seamless stream. Just as his last spell ended, a long serpent of black flame shot forth from his front.

This was the fourth-tier Blackflame Serpent. Its gaping maw, wreathed in corrosive and aggressive flame, lunged at the charging “Ironclad Giant”—Wang Yu, whose very footfalls shook the earth.

To Rudolf’s astonishment, Wang Yu neither dodged nor retreated. With his metal-encased arms, he rammed head-on into the searing black serpent and caught it. He seized its fiery jaws and pinned the construct of flames in place.

The sound of raging fire roared in the air. Wang Yu’s raw, physical strength tore into the flames. His hands pried apart the serpent’s blazing maw inch by inch until, in a blinding flash, the creature burst into a rain of sparks.

Without pause, Wang Yu, clad head-to-toe in steel, continued his charge toward Rudolf. From the narrow slits in his helm flickered a piercing, soul-shaking crimson light.

“Is he… a monster? He didn’t even use fighting spirit—how could he tear magic apart with his bare hands?!”

Rudolf’s mind ran wild with tremors of dread. What he had just witnessed defied all reason. Wang Yu had not used any visible energy techniques—no aura, no enhancement. He had ripped magic apart with nothing more than brute strength.

“Fascinating… If only I could study them…”

A mad gleam returned to Rudolf’s dazed eyes. This was a power he had never before seen. He had to uncover its secrets.

His hands moved with undiminished speed. In the brief moment bought by the destruction of the serpent, Rudolf flung out his next incantation—the fifth-tier Stelrus’s Geoburst.

Spells above the fourth tier were often named after their creators. They were fundamentally different in both structure and power from spells at the fourth tier and below. Whereas low-tier spells could injure, fifth-tier spells could annihilate.

Conical spikes of rock spun into existence before Rudolf, their pale-gray shells compressed and hardened by earth mana until they were denser than most alchemical alloys.

Dozens of stone drills shot forth like lightning as they arced toward Wang Yu. Each one spun fast enough to shred metal with ease.

But Wang Yu had unbelievable reflexes. Despite his armored body’s bulk, he moved with unnatural grace. He pushed his physical prowess as a knight to the extreme—he ducked low, sliding beneath most of the incoming barrage.

As he slid, he swung his arm—activating his potential, the Chariot. The dungeon walls, responding to his command, trembled and surged. A hand of earth and stone emerged to shield him.

The fifth-tier spell easily pierced the earthen hand, barely slowing as it continued on its deadly path.

Still sliding, Wang Yu punched forward. His metal-coated fist met one of the spinning drills head-on. Under his control, layers of his armor flowed to reinforce his fist.

The drill tore through layer after layer of enchanted metal, only to be faced with Wang Yu’s fighting spirit as his final defenses. The drill struck the barrier of fighting spirit with an earth-shaking bang before bursting into shards of stone.

And as he ducked, Wang Yu left Avia, who stood behind him, with a clear line of sight. She had already been charging up a spell. Swirling gales formed a longbow of compressed, spinning wind: the fifth-tier Larmon’s Piercing Storm.

A howling gale shot forth. The massive arrow of wind sliced through the corridor, obliterating every stone spike in its path and tearing apart the air itself as it whizzed directly toward Rudolf.

A spell so focused on singular destruction vastly overpowered Rudolf’s own stone drills.

Yet Rudolf, calm and composed, continued shaping another spell. Fifth-tier incantations required time—but low-tier ones did not. Without even moving his staff, he raised a hand. The walls of the dungeon warped and cracked. An invisible force pulled him aside, allowing him to avoid the oncoming projectile with surgical precision. The arrow pierced the space he’d just vacated.

But Wang Yu hadn’t remained idle, either. As the arrow passed by, he touched it with his power—the Chariot again.

The compressed wind, though already transmuted into magical matter, responded to his command. Just like he had torn through flame, he bent the storm’s trajectory.

The arrow’s path twisted. It screamed toward Rudolf’s new position.

The pressure from the arrow alone was ripping brick and stone loose from the walls. If the attack landed, Rudolf would surely be shredded into mist.

“What is this power…?”

Even as his pupils contracted, Rudolf could think only of Wang Yu’s terrifying ability to rip magic apart. He wanted to understand it. He needed to.

He forcibly recalibrated his nearly finished fifth-tier offensive spell into a defensive one in an instant: the fifth-tier Absolute Frost.

The temperature plummeted. Frost rapidly formed across the walls, the floor, the air itself. Everything seemed to be frozen by elemental ice.

The tempestuous arrow, now embedded with frost crystals, began to slow. Its whirling gale, once uncontainable, was visibly weakened by the sudden cold.

Several stone buzzsaws flung themselves from the dungeon walls, disintegrating from the storm—and using up the last of the arrow’s force, which was whittled down to nearly nothing.

Magic surged again in Rudolf’s hand. The cold had created a perfect zone for ice-elemental spells. He prepared another fifth-tier spell—he would delay them further. Once royal reinforcements arrived to capture the two rebels, he would dissect every last secret from their bodies.

Unfortunately for Rudolf, his lack of combat experience shone through then. One’s mindset often determined life or death in combat, and Rudolf didn’t quite comprehend what it meant to let someone like Wang Yu close the gap. Slowly but surely, Wang Yu had closed in on him. He was now fewer than ten meters away.

Emerald flames erupted. Wang Yu’s body remembered the pain of igniting Cursed Fire. Without any hesitation, he burned his own life essence and pushed his body to the brink. The flames flooded the corridor with unimaginable heat.

He stamped down. Metal-shod legs struck the earth like thunder. Cloaked in Cursed Fire, Wang Yu’s armor became a blazing comet. His full strength, his full speed, shattered air itself as he hurtled into the frozen domain.

Ice and flame collided. The cursed green fire and the bitter cold mutually annihilated eac. But the ardent blaze gave Wang Yu enough freedom to maneuver—he was not frozen, and could move even within the frostbound zone.

A burning iron fist smashed toward Rudolf’s skull. No spellcaster would be able to react in time to a knight’s speed and power at this range. Rudolf’s body shattered into fragments…

But it wasn’t his body. Wang Yu narrowed his eyes as he realized the truth: it was a decoy made entirely of ice—the fourth-tier Frost Trap.

Sometime during the blizzard, Rudolf had created a perfect replica of his body using the ambient frost.

The shattered body exploded in an icy backlash. The burst of ice smothered Wang Yu’s flames and freezing his armored arm solid. The frost raced up his limb, threatening to encase his whole body.

Rudolf reappeared several meters away, staff aglow with rising power. A smile played across his lips—he was about to cast another spell.

But Wang Yu was faster. The metal armor on his body exploded outward. It had never been a true defense, merely material he controlled with the Chariot. Now, he cast it off entirely.

The frost clinging to the discarded armor shattered with it. Wang Yu tore free, unhindered, and charged straight for Rudolf once more.

This time, Rudolf was unprepared. Flustered, he was forced to downgrade his spell to a fourth-tier one to cast it quickly.

A claw of frost materialized midair and lunged at Wang Yu, who neither dodged nor retreated. Instead, his Cursed Fire burst forth in an explosive surge around him—then, detaching from his body, the fire coalesced into a solid arc that he hurled straight at Rudolf’s spell.

Empowered by the Chariot, Wang Yu’s Cursed Fire transcended its former limits. No longer confined to merely coating Wang Yu’s body, it could now be cast off as a weapon.

Frost clashed against fire. In that brief yet violent collision, the frost claw was cleaved in two, overpowered by the Cursed Fire born from Wang Yu’s self-immolating vitality. The remaining blaze surged toward Rudolf.

A barrier of arcane energy shimmered across Rudolf’s body as his magical defenses activated just in time to shield him from the blazing assault.

Meanwhile, Wang Yu fell under the influence of Rudolf’s domain of frost. Ice crystals began to bloom over his flesh. The encroaching frost seized its opening, subduing even the Cursed Fire and leaving him unable to reignite his flames.

Rudolf smiled slightly, confident in his advantage. Magic surged through his staff, his next spell already prepared. He would dispose of Wang Yu while the man’s movement was impeded.

But suddenly, a spatial rift tore open behind Wang Yu. Rudolf’s heart thumped. Avia stepped through, her hand glowing with energy, and flung an attack at him.

Without hesitation, Rudolf redirected his spell. The fifth-tier spell had aimed at Wang Yu now streaked toward the girl: Exploding Starfire.

It was a spell saturated with fire mana, enough to block her offensive and, with luck, take Wang Yu down in the resulting blast as well.

But the instant the spell left his hand, Rudolf knew something was wrong. What Avia had cast wasn’t a spell, but rather wizardry. She had merely masked it with traces of magical energy to give the illusion of a spell.

Deep violet radiance collided with the flaming Starfire. The void twisted reality. It was a fourth-tier spell Avia had prepared long in advance—a cunning construct that distorted reality and altered the true effect of Rudolf’s magic.

The quantity of fire mana and the power of the spell remained unchanged, but the concentrated inferno of Starfire had now been fragmented into hundreds of tiny sparks, each a fraction of the original’s power. Individually, they were easy to withstand—even for someone as reckless as Wang Yu.

As Avia emerged through the spatial rift, she had immediately transferred the Chronostasis Hourglass to Wang Yu.

Time passed for him at eight times the usual rate. The world slowed from Wang Yu’s perspective. As he channeled every ounce of his strength, Cursed Fire bloomed, engulfing his entire form. The frost that had encased him was incinerated by blazing acceleration.

He didn’t even glance at the hundreds of scattered sparks surrounding him. He charged straight at Rudolf.

Eightfold acceleration pushed Wang Yu’s body beyond its limits. His flesh tore from the sheer speed at which he moved, but that same speed meant that Rudolf couldn’t even track him with his eyes or mind.

The sparks of flame exploded all at once as he passed straight through. Then, his blazing iron fist punched through the wall behind Rudolf. Bone and stone exploded together. Wang Yu’s damaged right arm drove over a meter deep into the shattered masonry.

Rudolf had been caught in between, his body shattered entirely by Wang Yu’s charge. The Cursed Fire covering Wang Yu’s frame, along with the cloud of Starfire he had torn through, incinerated every last fragment of Rudolf’s body.

Wang Yu turned and gave Avia a thumbs-up. It was over. Though he had been battered by the Starfire and the strain of overclocking with the Hourglass of Time, none of it mattered. His wounds weren’t fatal. Anything he could survive was minor.

“Let’s go!”

Avia smiled as she drew The Star, reversed. The tarot card was usable again now that Rudolf’s spatial lock had expired. In a ripple of space, the two of them vanished.

Overhead, cloaked by the Lady of the Night’s power, a massive dragon was fighting off the royal guards. In his draconic form, Sieg sensed the teleportation through the aether.

His head turned slightly. He ignored Grand Marshal Uller of the royal guard, who was ‘dueling’ him, as he activated The Star in his mouth and vanished from sight.

Spatial ripples pulsed through the air as Wang Yu and Avia appeared amid a cluster of people. A moment later, a dragon cloaked in dark matter appeared beside them, startling the crowd.

“Welcome back, Wang Yu!”

A cheerful voice came from beside him. Fang placed a strong hand on Wang Yu’s shoulder. Holy power surged from his touch, knitting together the damage wrought by Wang Yu’s deadly clash with Rudolf.

“Thank you!” Wang Yu shouted, not just to Fang, but to everyone encircling him.

“You have nothing to fear,” came another voice. “You, who created the Prayer Network, are a benefactor to all of Nightblades. We will not let the royal family threaten you—even if it means war.”

“That’s right,” another chimed in. “We won’t stand by as any comrade of ours suffers injustice. Today, we’re drawing the line. Even the royal family won’t be able to take you captive.”

“We Nightblades aren’t pawns to be discarded at will. Any compromises we’ve made were for the realm, not the throne…”

One voice rang out after another.

Edward stepped forward, recounting what Wang Yu and Hugin had endured—and revealing that Wang Yu was not only the Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall, but also the creator of the Prayer Network, the innovation that had transformed the Nightblades.

One by one, every member gathered here took a stand beside Wang Yu.

“Our technicians are preparing a teleport,” Charles added, striding up with Edward. Both gave Wang Yu’s chest a friendly thump. The camaraderie between the three was evident.

“Mm.”

Wang Yu nodded, then turned to the skies above. Incredible fluctuations in mana and fighting spirit were converging from afar.

The Minister of War, the Minister of State, and several of the royal guard’s most powerful elites were descending—all grand knights and mages. The two ministers were a mere step away from becoming legends.

“You attacked the palace, assaulted the royal family—are you declaring treason, Nightblades? Wang Yu, Sieg Wilsbach, and you, Avia Dovan!”

The Minister of War, a stern and powerful man with graying hair and a surging aura of fighting spirit, floated above the crowd.

Upon seeing the trio—Wang Yu, Sieg, and Avia—surrounded by the Nightblades, he immediately unleashed his overwhelming aura.

It was a pressure akin to a dragon’s, intended to crush lesser beings.

But Sieg was a dragon himself. He ignored the aura completely, while Wang Yu, empowered by the Chariot, easily dispelled the pressure with a wave before it could affect Avia.

“Save your barking.” Wang Yu sneered. “I’m not from Aleisterre. I owe your kingdom nothing. I don’t give a damn about your games. I’m leaving. That’s it.”

“Why, you—!”

Fury exploded in the Minister of War’s chest. How dare a lowborn noble speak to him in this manner—and he was nothing more than a marquis! His fighting spirit spiked as he prepared to crush Wang Yu.

But a hand stopped him—the Minister of State’s.

The Minister of War began to protest, only to belatedly notice Archbishop Fang standing beside Wang Yu, glowing with the unmistakable power of the God of Light.

“Your Eminence, is the Church of Light truly going to interfere in Aleisterre’s internal affairs?” the Minister of War asked, barely reining in his rage.

“I am simply protecting a friend, a disciple, a subordinate—an innocent,” Fang replied gently. “Such righteousness is in full alignment with our doctrine. What does that have to do with meddling in your realm?”

The softness in his tone could not disguise his strength.

The Minister of War then turned his ire next to the Nightblades. “And you Nightblades are all willing to betray the kingdom and the royalty for this man alone?”

“We fight for Aleisterre,” said the squad captain Gilbert. “But the royal family does not define Aleisterre. It seems our compromises have reached their end. We will not yield our protection of Wang Yu—not a single step. If it means battle, so be it.”

The Minister of War finally turned to Edward Wolyn, the hero who had saved the capital.

“This is my will,” Edward said calmly. “Though I don’t mind borrowing my father’s strength—and the future strength of my station.”

He met the Minister of War’s gaze without fear. No longer was he the uncertain youth unsure of his lineage.

“…”

The Minister of War had no retort. He could hardly force Wang Yu to stay.

At that moment, the Nightblades’ technicians completed the teleportation spell for two humans and two dragons.

As space shimmered, Wang Yu, Avia, and Sieg’s sister Noelle climbed onto Sieg’s back in preparation.

Then, in what little time remained, Wang Yu turned toward the palace and raised a middle finger.

“See you in hell.”

With that, the group vanished from Aleisterre.

The Minister of War’s face darkened, but he had no choice but to turn back alongside his counterpart. Were they to fight the Nightblades, the Church of Light, and the heir of the Grand Duke of the North? The throne could not afford such losses.

Elsewhere across the kingdom, events continued to unfold…

Inside the royal palace, a guard captain glared at Uller and roared, “Why didn’t you deploy the royal guard to apprehend the attackers?!”

“I serve the crown as a mercenary,” Uller replied calmly. “But my true loyalty lies with the Duke of the North. And this is the first time Lord Leon’s successor has commanded me. How could I refuse?”

“As for my fellow royal guards, I’m very pleased that they’re willing to heed my command as their captain.”

Turning around, Uller glanced at the royal guards behind him, their swords planted firmly in the ground as they defied the royal decree. A satisfied smile curved his lips.

Some time later, Weston Stevenson, principal and headmaster of the Stevenson Academy of Magic, cocked his head at his guests. “You wish to use the academy’s formation to locate Mr. Wang Yu, who fled via teleportation?”

He adjusted the collar of his robes as he looked at the royal envoy before him, his tone tinged with mockery.

“That’s correct. We ask for your cooperation.” The envoy, visibly tense, nodded stiffly.

“I’ve said it before—our academy exists to study the essence of magic, not to provide the royal family with cannon fodder. We are collaborators at best. Don’t presume to command me.”

Weston’s tone turned glacial. “And even if I’m not a paragon of virtue, would you have me raise a hand against the man who saved this academy? I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

In Villa Mayene, a storm of fire raged through the estate—but so finely controlled was its force that not a single blade of grass or leaf planted by the lady of the manor was harmed. The flames merely encircled a group of Aleisterre’s soldiers, trapping them in the heart of the inferno.

Lilya Svein, Witch of Blazes, floated in the air like a queen crowned in fire. Her expression was grim, her fury undisguised as she gazed down at the terrified soldiers slowly being consumed by flame.

“I heard,” she said icily, “what you did to the knight who serves my lovely niece. And now you dare threaten her daughter using my sister? Such audacity. If not for my niece’s foresight in asking Garcia for help, you might even have succeeded.”

Her words were cold as winter, but the flames around her burned hotter than ever. Magic surged, fire rose, and her wrath ignited the very air.

“I may be bound from meddling in politics,” she continued, voice sharp as steel, “but protecting my family? That I can still do.”

There was no trace now of the cheerful, scatterbrained older sister she usually seemed to be. Now, Lilya was merciless, cold, and furious.

“As for those old relics in the cursebinding spire, I no longer care about their rules. Mira will be staying with me from now on. And Garcia? He has no business serving that rotten royal family. My niece has her knight. Why shouldn’t I have mine?”

The firestorm erupted in full force, reducing the soldiers below to ashes. Not a single stone of Villa Mayene was scorched. Wreathed in flame, Lilya rose skyward.

High above the clouds, a great dragon soared toward the horizon, cloaked in a veil of darkness—a ripple of magic flowing from a small wooden effigy of the Lady of the Night, held in the hand of a red-haired girl with delicate dragon horns.

Seated upon the dragon’s back, Wang Yu cast one last glance behind him. The kingdom of Aleisterre was growing small in the distance, its shape fading into the clouds. He turned away and looked down at the young woman leaning against his shoulder.

“Wang Yu, I’m sleepy…”

Avia’s voice was weary, laced with the relief of safety.

“Then sleep,” Wang Yu said gently.

He pulled her into his arms without hesitation, ignoring Noelle seated nearby—her face red, her hands covering her eyes yet leaving a gap between her fingers wide enough to peek through.

Wang Yu gently stroked Avia’s silky golden hair, brushing his nose against her forehead to breathe in her scent.

She shifted slightly in his arms, curled up against his chest. Resting her head against the warmth of his body, she drifted into peaceful slumber.

Wang Yu let out a soft breath and looked to the distant horizon—beyond the borders of Aleisterre.

It was time for him to begin his life as a wanderer.

(End of Volume II: The Gathering Storm.)

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