The Last King Of Darkness
Chapter 256 - 182: The Great Savior

Chapter 256: Chapter 182: The Great Savior

"Theodore..."

Rod awoke with a start, forcibly changing his words as he overcame his instinct.

"...Spellcaster’s trusted aide."

He suddenly realized a problem—he wasn’t in disguise; he had appeared as himself.

Although they didn’t yet know who he was, a check after returning would make it clear.

How would he explain then?

The black trash can couldn’t possibly contain so many strange functions, right? The characteristics of the Spell Talent were too distinct to conceal.

Just then, someone suddenly called out, "Rod? Aren’t you Rod? That black trash can?"

Damn!

With a swift turn, Melister barked, "Short Wand, you know him?"

Short Wand shouted, "Know him! I do know him! He’s famous in our block! He’s the one who clears our sewers! He’s a special student from Jinworth, a freshman from this year!"

An officer exclaimed in surprise, "A freshman? How can a freshman be a Spellcaster’s trusted aide? Only the most top-notch with Spell Talent are selected as Theodore’s trusted aides, and the youngest among them is forty years old..."

Before Rod could figure out how to explain, Melister abruptly turned back, grasping his hand.

"Little ancestor, did Theodore His Excellency pass on his resonance to you?"

"What is resonan... Sure, I have received Theodore His Excellency’s final resonance."

"Ptui! What do you mean ’final resonance’? His Excellency Theodore will live a hundred years, he will never die. Little ancestor, make good use of his power! Every time His Excellency Theodore separates from a soul, he suffers a great deal of damage..."

Short Wand yelled, "He’s not a Spellcaster at all! He’s Starfire Series, his first Fire Spark is the black trash can, the second is grass, the third is quickshot, with only 2000 clock hours of Spiritual Energy!"

Melister frowned, "With such low Spiritual Power, can you use such high-level spells? Why would His Excellency Theodore choose someone outside the Spellcasters? Also, do you even know how to use spells? Do you need me to teach you..."

Rod reverted control back to his instincts, instantly becoming gentle.

"Thank you for your concern, Meili. I have the Saint’s Magic Robe and the Crystal Wand; 9000 clock hours of Spiritual Power Strength are enough for me to use for a while. I think I probably don’t need you to teach me how to use spells."

Rod paused, then continued,

"The efficient Dragon Tooth Barrier can last for seven clock hours. You need to use this time to restore all warriors to their optimal state. After the spell fades, you must hold the parapet and use ranged attacks to consume the monsters..."

"Stupid!"

Melister interrupted him irritably, "The warriors must march out of the stronghold. Without the Spiritual Power Generator, the monsters will destroy the base, and extinguish the Guardian Fire..."

Rod said with a smile, "The Spiritual Power Generator has been repaired."

"What nonsense are you talking about? When did you repair it?"

"Just now."

Melister was at a loss for words; he immediately had a logistics member go down to check.

However, Rod bid him farewell, "Goodbye, Meili, remember to temper your anger; it can cause you to lose your calm judgment, allowing your soul to fall more quickly into darkness."

"...What? Aren’t you here specifically to save us?"

Rod smiled, "No, I’m here to save everyone."

The Gale Technique activated, and his figure soared into the air.

Melister shouted, "Where are you going?"

"To the crematorium."

Bang!

Rod shot through the air, a flash of blue light, and he had already passed through the Dragon Tooth Barrier.

In the blink of an eye, his figure disappeared into the sky.

Melister was left standing there, dumbfounded.

In a daze, he seemed to see the Dean as if he had become a hundred years younger.

---

Rod felt a peculiar sensation— as if he had entered a profound state where strange vital energy surged within him. Though he was always young, there was a feeling of returning to his younger days.

The Gale howled in his ears; the Black Fog parted like waves before him, and he could clearly feel that he was Rod, yet it seemed as if he carried an added weight of history.

Spiritual Energy bubbled within his body without any obstacles, coursing through his soul, and he hadn’t felt such lightness and swiftness in many years.

Even though there wasn’t much left.

An Eighth Level spell and a Ninth Level spell had depleted more than half of his Spiritual Energy.

Without those two Relic Level items, he wouldn’t have been able to cast even half a spell.

Rod could feel that they contained immense power; just a little bit of Spiritual Energy was needed to leverage dozens of times more, unleashing powerful and magical spells.

In his perception, each spell was a peculiar "trajectory," with Spiritual Energy forming that peculiar force in a special way.

The "trajectories" he traced had an indescribable beauty, an almost dreamlike sense of art, as if they were the universal Truth, the theoretically perfect shapes where any addition or subtraction would be a mistake.

Perfect "trajectories" resulted in the strongest effects and the lowest consumption, accompanied by a pleasant and sacred sensation to behold.

With every move, it seemed like he had the world in his grasp, and the Truth was just beneath his fingertips.

Ha ha ha.

Let me punish this world!

Suddenly, Rod saw a burst of flames in the distance, he accelerated his figure, blinking into the light.

It was a gruesome battlefield.

Countless warriors fought in a bloodbath, surrounded by fallen walls, with broken relics and stones everywhere on the ground. A Fire Guardian stubbornly defended the Guardian Fire amidst the ruins; his legs were severed, hands wielding swords while dragging long, thick trails of blood on the ground with his leg stumps. But it seemed as though he felt no pain at all, still moving quickly, fighting against the advancing monsters.