Chapter 16: The Interrupted Conflict

Fortunately, he still had help from a Spellcaster within his body…

“Use the ring that old man gave you!” In the next instant, Constantine, prompted by the Lich, had already turned his palm. With his silent incantation, a massive ram-headed force field abruptly appeared in the air! It shattered the bindings into countless pieces!

Amid the swirling dust, the young man reached over, pulled out a Scroll and unfurled it. Simultaneously raising his hand, he muttered softly, and two force sphere projectiles instantly shot toward his opponent.

The intense pain wracking his body ignited a nameless fury in Constantine’s heart—as a modern youth, he preferred to exist within rules. These rules made him feel safe. In fact, before crossing over to this world, rules had always accompanied him.

Elementary school student conduct codes… middle school regulations… pedestrian traffic rules… the laws of a nation’s citizens. The primary function of so-called rules was to maintain social order. Although some rules could feel frustrating or ridiculous, like certain arbitrary prohibitions, overall, having rules that everyone could follow benefited all.

However, we know some people always believe in another principle: that those with power are supreme. They are the rule-makers; the winners can scorn the rules—this naturally worked flawlessly within small circles. But these individuals never understood that everything has its limits. It was like some players in games who seemed never to realize that if someone used cheats in an online game, it didn’t just harm one person’s interests, but the interests of everyone else. Sometimes, the game itself couldn’t even continue due to the collapse of the rules. This was something Constantine found hard to tolerate.

Well… simply put, Constantine didn’t like bullying others for no reason, and he disliked those who bullied others for no reason even more.

The young Mage clearly paid little mind to the two force spheres flying head-on toward him. “Spell Immunity Barrier!” he chanted. The Gemstone atop his staff immediately emitted a burst of green light. A pale green hemisphere expanded outward from him. The Magic Missile in the air collided with this barrier and vanished without a trace.

“Fool, your little tricks are useless against me…” the Mage sneered—he noticed the other hadn’t paused but had instead launched a Battering Ram next. However, such a low-tier spell couldn’t possibly penetrate a Spell Immunity Barrier!

The mocking voice cut off abruptly, as if something had seized his throat—the ram-headed force field violently exploded on the grassy ground right before him. The shallow angle immediately tore up large chunks of the beautiful lawn. Thus, the Mage only had time for a short, sharp scream before being engulfed by a sphere of billowing dust and dirt—a Spell Immunity Barrier might block low-tier projectiles and force effects, but the rocks, soil, and roots flying at his face were not Magic.

The dirt wouldn’t cause much harm, but it obscured vision and even affected breathing. Constantine didn’t know if this effect could prevent the other from spellcasting, but he reckoned that at the very least, he himself couldn’t chant spells amidst such a dust cloud.

The clumpy dirt soon dispersed. As Constantine had anticipated, the Mage was now reduced to coughing—his originally bright and splendid blue Mage robe was now covered in dust and grass blades, even with a few unfortunate subterranean insects stuck to it. He looked utterly disheveled.

Of course, this effect actually caused no real damage; it merely covered someone in grime. But for the blue-robed Mage, it was exceptionally humiliating—if the opponent had been a Mage of equal or slightly lower rank, it might have been acceptable. But the one causing this effect was merely a Sorcerer Apprentice. This was clearly something the young Mage couldn’t tolerate at all. He roared in furious rage, his face beneath the hood even contorting.

“Bastard! I’ll kill… urgh!”

The roar quickly rose in pitch, then turned into half a scream… He suddenly realized the young man’s attack wasn’t over. The youth had charged straight forward right behind the Battering Ram. With a light crack from a single-handed movement, three dark, gleaming objects had already fanned out to encase him in a triangular pattern! A distance of over thirty feet vanished in an instant. He could even see the arrowheads glinting with a black light, aimed right at him. He wanted to flee, but his body couldn’t react in time!

In that moment, the only reaction left in his heart was regret—regret for underestimating his opponent, for not casting a Protection from Arrows behind the Spell Immunity Barrier.

With the light click of the mechanism, Constantine also felt a slight jolt of surprise!

He had merely lashed out in anger, but whether due to fury or the tension of battle, it clearly led him to an excessive action. Only as the arrows loosed did he suddenly remember: the other was a Mage, with no physical protection whatsoever… Even if lucky, this guy would at the very least pay a bloody price—the Dwarven-made metal arrows had hollow, needle-like shafts and four blood grooves. This insidious design of his own could drain the blood around a wound within dozens of seconds. Moreover, he had instinctively aimed for the opponent’s chest just now!

The repulsive sound of metal grinding against muscle rang out… followed by a shriek!

Constantine’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the imagined scene of death didn’t appear… Perhaps some Deity didn’t want the youth to earn the title of Mage-slayer so early… Just before impact, the three arrows in the air abruptly emitted a buzzing hum, then were redirected by some mysterious force!

However, the remaining reaction distance was ultimately too short. So, only one arrow grazed the Mage robe and flew past, while the other two still slammed viciously in! A burst of sparks erupted on the Mage robe; one arrow was tightly clamped by an invisible defense. But the last one fulfilled its mission beautifully—the arrow piercing into the shoulder joint viciously tore through fabric and skin, only stopping when it hit hard bone! The hollow shaft and blood grooves immediately began channeling blood out of the body like a spring!

“Urgh aaaaah… my Bodola… you, you lunatic!”

Propelled by the impact and instinct, the Mage stumbled back over a dozen steps. By the time he stopped, the intense pain from his shoulder had drained all color from his face!

Though he spewed a series of frenzied curses, he clearly no longer had the courage to attack. That icy feeling kept spreading, and the flying blood spray made him feel as though his life was rapidly draining away with it. So he could only wail, staggering back a few more steps—his face twisted by fear…

Meanwhile, the expressions of the few apprentices originally nearby grew even more stunned… They would never have dreamed such a thing could happen. They had been anticipating a spectacle, expecting Constantine to be thoroughly taught a lesson and then thrown into the Mage Tower’s punishment room. But they never dreamed this white-haired stranger, who looked even younger than them, could be so ruthless.

Though they probably knew such people existed in this world—those who viewed human life as extremely cheap, even willing to take another’s life over a minor matter—they clearly never imagined the seemingly unremarkable youth before them could be one of them! Seeing the arrow embedded in the Mage’s shoulder, continuously gushing blood, not one of them dared to make a single sound anymore!

The fact that no life was lost did relieve Constantine somewhat. He quietly retreated a few steps and picked up the Spellbook from the ground. But before he could think about how to handle the aftermath, a dreadful voice already vibrated their eardrums.

“A decent attack. Huh? … A bunch of useless fools! So much energy you need to vent it through fighting? Five against one and you still lose so pathetically.”

There weren’t many voices one could describe as dreadful, but the one now ringing out was definitely among the finest—hoarse and sharp, like the screech of a night owl. Despite the bright sunshine, the sound worming into their ears still made Constantine’s heart twitch slightly.

The young man slightly narrowed his eyes, examining this middle-aged man who had also appeared abruptly, shrouded in Darkness—his entire body was enveloped in an Archmage robe so utterly black it held not a single gleam, like a Shadow under the sun. But upon closer inspection, one could see the robe adorned with intricate silver lines. Constantine was inwardly startled. He didn’t know this signified the other’s achievements in the Arcane Arts, but he had seen similar designs on the robes of the Duke’s Magic advisor.

The youth habitually retreated two more steps, warily observing him… while silently praying this fellow wouldn’t be another indiscriminate enemy—the previous ones with no combat experience were one thing, but with his own level, if he could still contend with such a figure, then the God of Justice was truly blind…

Calling him middle-aged was actually just Constantine’s habitual judgment. From appearance, he couldn’t tell this person’s age at all. The half-face visible beneath the hood had skin like the dry, cracked bark of a tree, twisted and gnarled. The coloration varied due to these strange undulations. The mouth hidden within the crevices was like a knot in the bark, and the medium-length hair escaping the hood was gray-white, like an old man who had exhausted his vitality. All this, combined with his hunched posture, made Constantine instantly think of the name Quasimodo.

Only those eyes, within the hood’s Shadow, emitted a faint red glow, like some hungry beast.

“What are you still doing here? Think it’s not embarrassing enough? Well then, do you want me to play with you?” The mysterious figure’s hoarse sneer rose in pitch, turning into a beast-like roar, instantly overwhelming all other noise: “That would be perfect. I’m testing some new things right now. Would any of you like to try them? It’ll definitely be interesting.”

Clearly, for these apprentices, this person’s intimidation was far more potent—they collectively let out a wail, as if seeing some legendary monster, and desperately fled the scene!

Meanwhile, the young Mage with the ashen face clearly had no interest in further entanglement… Though he uttered a hateful curse, he paid no more attention to Constantine, who had almost just killed him. Muttering a stumbling incantation, he vanished on the spot… In the blink of an eye, the area was empty, with only drifting grass blades in the air and upturned earth on the ground as evidence of what had just transpired.

“Idiots with brains full of swamp muck… Where do you think you’re going? Hmm, an unfamiliar brat?”

Watching the pitiful apprentices and their senior disappear without a trace, the Black Robe Mage lightly made a gesture, then turned. That kid wearing the Sorcerer Apprentice tag but dressed in simple Hunting Attire was still standing there, staring at him with a look of helplessness.

In fact, it wasn’t that the little guy didn’t want to flee. It was just that, following the Mage’s gesture earlier, countless invisible arms seemed to fill the air, firmly holding Constantine’s body, rendering him completely immobile.

“A seemingly pampered young master, or… another one of those pointless Noble bloodlines.” After a few seconds of silence, the Black Robe Mage let out a series of hissing chuckles like a leaky bellows: “The only noteworthy thing is the sheer audacity. But it seems I should commend your outstanding battle achievement? Not a bad fight…”

“Just a bunch of arrogant idiots,” Constantine shrugged indifferently. The fellow before him indeed looked terrifying, but that didn’t really frighten Constantine, who had a considerably mature mental age. And the other was clearly an important figure within this Mage Tower. The youth didn’t mind conversing with him—this person, though frightening in appearance, hadn’t shown much hostility… At least he had praised Constantine’s unorthodox methods.

“While their grasp of Magic is decent, their practical combat ability is just mediocre…” Constantine commented. After a pause, the youth added a cutting remark—”This level of opponent isn’t any harder to deal with than street urchins.”

“Practical combat ability just mediocre… Heh haha, interesting… If that old fellow heard your evaluation of his most prized disciple, his expression would definitely be amusing…”

The Black Robe Mage’s voice paused, then he suddenly bent down, bringing his hooded face close to Constantine’s, while squeezing out a series of even hoarser and sharper sounds from his throat.

Constantine finally couldn’t help but flinch slightly—the terrifying face crisscrossed with countless grooves was even more horrifying up close. Each groove resembled a writhing maggot. At this extremely close range, even with mental preparation, it still triggered a reflexive chill throughout the body. Moreover, within the hood’s Shadow, the creature’s pupils shimmered with a faint red light with his words, reminiscent of ghosts from horror films, like some being from an Extraplanar Realm.

“Doesn’t sound like the whole truth, but an interesting brat nonetheless… Scoundrel enough, bold enough, and a bit clever. Not bad for this age… A Sorcerer? I happen to need a test subject… Follow me!”

Or perhaps the habit of acting without explanation was popular in this Mage Tower? Constantine felt his limbs suddenly tighten, then a tremendous force tugged at him, and his whole body involuntarily began to move, following the Black Robe Mage toward a grove of trees. He struggled a couple of times but soon gave up and relaxed his limbs—pointless struggle was even less advisable than obedience before a High-Rank Mage.

After winding past several trees, rooftops emerged among the vegetation. A dilapidated small hut appeared amidst the trees.

Perhaps Mages truly were an eccentric bunch, because nothing in the Mage Tower could be judged by common sense—from the outside, this room appeared to be an ordinary small hut. But upon stepping through the worn wooden door and entering, a tall secret door opened where a wall should have been. A staircase stretched straight downward.

The stairs weren’t long. Under the cool glow of magical lighting, Constantine found himself entering a very grand and spacious underground hall—it seemed Mages had a special fondness for vast spaces. The area of this underground hall already exceeded that of the entire courtyard. Never would one have guessed, from the outside, that such a broad expanse existed beneath that ramshackle hut.

The Black Robe Mage uttered a simple phrase, and the surrounding Darkness abruptly receded like a tide. A pale blue radiance began to fill the entire space. Simultaneously, the massive stone slabs on the walls also began to move with a grating sound. Within moments, several huge stones had become standard worktables. Stones rising from the floor became bookshelves and cabinets with Crystal panels. Sets of beakers and equipment appeared one after another on those surfaces.

Though also a Magic laboratory, the owner’s style was extremely distinct. If Nikolai’s laboratory exuded luxury and grandeur, then this Black Robe Mage’s was eerie and horrifying. The items on the tables were equally diverse, but more were jars containing horrific creatures preserved in disgusting fluids, various sharp instruments resembling scalpels, and measuring tools of different scales.

Unlike the previously seen laboratory, this underground hall felt exceptionally cavernous. The walls and floor were made of huge, rough stone blocks, with no tables, chairs, or furniture. Only a vast and complex Magic Circle was drawn on the central floor. This Magic Circle clearly had some age; the surfaces of the purplish-black magical symbols were somewhat peeling. But the lingering coppery scent in the air, along with the sinister color, gave the illusion that these symbols might have been drawn in blood…

At the center of the Magic Circle stood an Altar stained with purplish-black filth. On a raised platform before the Altar stood a grotesque, terrifying idol over two meters tall. The pale blue flames burned upon this Altar. Everything around was cast into wavering, eerie shadows by this light.

“This seems… no, this is big trouble!” The Lich within Constantine let out a wail—his tone hadn’t actually changed, but the youth could clearly sense the terror transmitted from his thoughts. It made Constantine himself shiver involuntarily.