Mage Legend
Chapter 224: Episode 82 Framed

Chapter 224: Episode 82 Framed

"You are not qualified to speak of rewards in front of me!"

For Batana’s words, Mage Lynch did not make any special expression. He just nodded to the matron, holding his magic wand quietly as he turned to leave.

Batana watched the mage, but did not exhibit her usual high-spirited demeanor. The male Dark Elves, intimidated by her authority, crawled, trembled, and pleaded at her feet. All of this brought her supreme satisfaction. As she herself had once said, the feeling of conquest is the most wonderful sensation in the world. Yet, she encountered a man like Lynch from the surface. He was like a bone that couldn’t be gnawed or chewed to pieces, making Matron Batana feel powerless from the bottom of her heart. Neither threats nor temptations could make him submit in front of the matron. Although in words and actions, Lynch still behaved respectfully, always showing humility and obedience, Batana understood well enough that in this human male’s heart, the Dark Elves probably held no place at all. The so-called first family, the so-called matron, were both looked down upon by this human.

Batana realized that she could never truly conquer this man. He would never align his thoughts with the Dark Elves.

"Then, what cannot be conquered must be destroyed..." Batana thought to herself.

Lynch slowly walked towards the door, and the Dark Elves made way for the one who "alone defeated the priests of the second family." However, there was one person who was very concerned about him, and that was Zilvra.

Her feelings were conflicted, with joy and sorrow each taking up half. The joy was because Lynch had just asked Matron Batana for a reward, and anyone with a keen eye knew what the mage wanted. Zilvra felt relieved as she believed that as long as Lynch still had his desire for possession, he would help her leave Ratris City. In Zilvra’s education, only two emotions were trustworthy: reverence and love for the Spider Goddess and the desire for power or other things. Lynch had previously only shown a strong desire to study magic in the Black Crystal Tower, which made Zilvra uneasy. Now, the female Drow was filled with confidence about leaving Ratris City.

But on the other hand, she was also filled with worries. Judging from the matron’s recent performance, it seemed unlikely that Lynch could maintain his advisory mage status, as Batana surely harbored murderous intent. In front of the first matron, no one had ever dared to disregard her authority like this. Even though Lynch could still walk through the Dark Elf City at the moment, no one knew when the matron would make a move, and no one could say how much longer the mage could survive.

"Whatever plan you have, you must act quickly!" Zilvra stared into Lynch’s eyes and prayed in her heart.

Lynch’s Eye of Insight naturally kept constant attention to his surroundings, and he noticed Zilvra’s expression, immediately understanding the concerns in her heart. Although he wanted to give her a reassuring look, the gaze of Matron Batana felt like a thorn in his back. Lynch thought for a moment and decided to walk away silently.

Outside the door was piled with corpses; noble Dark Elves reduced to mere scraps under the slaughter of their kin. They lay crisscrossed in the corridor, covered in wounds with pained expressions, gradually growing cold. The broken scimitars and shattered shields indicated the cruelty of the battle that took place here, but the twisted bodies and the gruesome blood-covered state were not caused by combat—Dark Elves are not a race that triumphs through brute force; only powerful divine arts have this effect—Batana’s divine arts.

Lynch looked at a female Drow’s corpse, her joints turned the other way, body contorted in an extremely unnatural position, as if it were a wet cloth twisted by two people until dry. Her tongue hung out, saliva and blood had long since coagulated on her face and chin, her protruding eyes recorded her last moments of pain and despair.

This was a noble Dark Elf priest, once held lofty, but in death no more than this grim state.

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