Mage Legend
Chapter 131 - 44 episodes Oppression_2

Chapter 131: 44 episodes Oppression_2

"I, I’m back..." Lynch said with a wry smile, then collapsed.

Deluo and Nimo quickly helped the mage to a room upstairs, while the Stone-leg Boss hurried out. He had connections to buy some healing potions. At this moment, a severely wounded mage must not die in his inn, especially when he heard that this mage was an advisor to the First Family. If his slight delay were to cause irreparable consequences, he estimated that his head would no longer be on his neck.

In the evening, Lynch woke up, much to the relief of everyone present. Deluo had always wanted to know what severe ordeal Lynch had gone through, but the mage was unwilling to elaborate.

"It’s nothing. The Dark Elves arranged a few battles to test my strength. I was lucky to pass. Let’s rest early, everyone. There’s likely another big task in a few days. Once that’s completed, our objectives can probably be achieved."

Deluo kept looking at Lynch with puzzled and skeptical eyes. He couldn’t believe any test could leave the mage in such a state. However, since the mage himself didn’t want to talk, Deluo couldn’t ask anything further. Nonetheless, he decided he would never let his companions face potential dangers alone again.

Nimo was reassured to sleep, seeing that Lynch had recovered. In his mind, as long as his companions were safe, nothing else mattered. Of course, it would be great if they could leave this city soon.

After the two companions fell asleep, Lynch remained awake. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep, but he simply couldn’t. During his three days behind the iron door, his nerves were always on edge, preparing every moment against "their" attacks. The lurking dangers in the darkness left him unable to rest. He really hadn’t expected that a Dark Elf Family would have such strong combat abilities, with those frenzied warriors and those monsters possessing strange abilities launching wave after wave of attacks.

Lynch extended his right hand, palm up, fingers slowly stretching open. A sphere of silver light appeared above his hand, floating there as a ball. Strange scripts continuously surfaced on the ball’s surface. The silver ball slowly rotated, adding a layer of metallic sheen to the mage’s eyes. Lynch spoke softly to the Finder lurking in his left arm, "Don’t speak of what happened inside. Finder, how do you think about this sphere I’ve created now?"

"Very... very powerful." Finder’s trembling voice slowly rang out, "Next time you get into such a fierce fight, don’t wake me up again. I don’t want to go through it again."

"Alright, but if it weren’t for you keeping watch for me, I would have been killed long ago while preparing spells." Lynch clenched his fist, and the Light Sphere immediately disappeared, "But from now on, I won’t need to prepare any spells anymore, don’t you think, Finder?"

"You are not much different from a monster now, to use spells so brutally. Even the ancient Great Arcanists wouldn’t do that!"

"It was forced upon me," Lynch smiled helplessly, "Zilvra, should I thank you, or should I..." The mage sat on the bed, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.

Deluo’s snoring was so regular, always occurring at the same intervals. His eyes were closed, but still leaving a small slit.

...

In the basement of a certain house, a hunched old man, in the dim candlelight, looked at a report in his hand. Not far in front of him, a kobold knelt.

"So, you’re saying the First Family is about to make a big move?" He asked, but it sounded more like talking to himself, "What else did you hear?"

"Their family has recently recruited an advisor, False, just ran out from the basement." The kobold’s Common Language was obviously not very standard.

"Basement? What importance does that have?" The hunched old man frowned, "Alright, leave here, I’ll contact you again."

The kobold nodded and turned to leave, only to be pinned to the ground by three darts flying from behind, not even having the chance to scream.

The old man retracted his right hand, touched his chin, as if he wasn’t the one who had just thrown the darts. At last, the old man straightened his body, the hunch disappearing completely: "Basement, it can’t be that sealed room, can it? No, it shouldn’t be possible. As strong as he is, he couldn’t leave alive."

He walked to the table, lightly brushed over a map, which was a distribution map of all Ratris City’s buildings, then placed his finger on the inn called "Tavern," softly saying, "What role are you exactly playing?"

...

"No! We must get rid of him! Sister, give the order!" Sinaphi looked at Zarra, who was silent before her, then at Regula standing deferentially beside. "What are you worried about? Afraid of pathetic Zilvra? Although the matron favors her, she’s not a priest; what’s there to be afraid of?"

"Yes, Zilvra is not a Priest, she will never become a matron, so why fear her?" Zarra put away her whip, the Dark Elf at her feet had already been beaten to a bloody pulp. She kicked the Dark Elf with her foot, turned to face her sister only upon hearing its breathing, which indicated it was still alive: "If we speak of threats, I, your sister, should be the most threatening in your eyes, right?"

"No way? Sister, your strength is the greatest among all the Drows; the next matron cannot be anyone but you," Sifina said with a smile, "I just want a slice of the pie, besides, sister, you saw it too, how arrogant that mage was today! He must be taught a lesson!"

"Regula, how’s that mage’s strength? You fought him." Zarra patted the Martial Monk on the shoulder.

"His strength is decent, his reactions are quick. But..." The Martial Monk shrugged, "Everything was under my control, he’s not my match."

"That’s good, leave us now, Regula. My sister and I have matters to discuss." Zarra said as she drew the snake whip from her waist.

Sifina’s eyes revealed fear but also excitement and anticipation.

The Martial Monk left the room, closed the door, and no longer listened to the sounds coming from inside. He rubbed his shoulder, "Mage, heh, really interesting. You may have enough strength..."

.......

"Ugh, can you truly emerge from there?" Zilvra ended her meditation, lightly landing from her floating state. She picked up the gauze from the ground and draped it over her fragrant, sweat-covered shoulders. "If you’re not strong enough, how could you possibly save me. Alas..."

.......

The night in Ratris City had never been as tranquil as it was tonight. Yet the storm was slowly gathering strength beneath this calm.

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