Underground Combat Training
Following Serie's casual, albeit not-so-guiding, gesture, the group descended the spiral staircase into the depths of the magic tower. After passing through a barrier woven from light and shadow that isolated them from magical energy, the view suddenly opened up before them.
A vast underground space unfolded before them, its high dome illuminated by Eternal Light Magic, making the space as bright as day. The scene within instantly captivated everyone's attention.
What a coincidence, it's Qual.
This "Corrupt Sage" was emanating a chilling aura of magic. His body, composed of magic, was an ominous dark purple. His movements were characterized by the precise and efficient cruelty unique to Demons. At times, he would unleash a powerful beam of Killing Magic with a single hand, and at other times, he would manipulate multiple smaller Killing Magic like a conductor to launch precise attacks.
Faced with the methodical encirclement of eight clearly First-Class Mages, Qual no longer relied solely on the indestructible penetrating power of his "Killing Magic."
Complex magical light danced at his fingertips, sometimes precisely unleashing "Killing Magic" to dismantle the incoming beams of "Ordinary Attack Magic" (Demon-Slaying Magic); other times, he instantly constructed a honeycomb-shaped hexagonal magical shield in front of him, blocking incoming flaming spears or ice storms with a dull thud. He actually employed remarkably skillful defensive techniques during the battle.
"Tsk," Lowell clicked his tongue softly, "He wasn't idle even in solitary confinement. Not only did he not rust, but he also improved quite a bit... Defensive Magic consumes a lot of mana, can he offset Ordinary Attack Magic with Killing Magic? This isn't as simple as just countering a wave; it requires precise mana control. Qual is a true genius."
The eight mages had a clear strategy and worked together seamlessly: three specialized in defense, their thick magical shields precisely blocking Qual's main attack routes; four continuously unleashed "Ordinary Attack Magic," condensed beams of magic raining down on Qual from different angles; and one lingered on the periphery, waving his staff to occasionally conjure icy frost rings on the ground to restrict movement, or summoning distorted light phantoms to disrupt Guval.
This was a meticulously designed war of attrition and practical training exercise, a high-intensity confrontation drill.
Qual is the best whetstone, and these eight mages are using this hard whetstone to hone their combat skills against the Demons' most lethal weapon—"Ordinary Attack Magic" and its derivative Defensive Magic.
Lupa's breathing quickened the moment she saw Qual. Her pink twin tails moved without wind, and her heterochromatic eyes burned with a deep-seated hatred that seemed about to burst forth. Her hands instinctively gripped the gun at her waist, her knuckles turning white from the force, and her body trembled slightly from extreme rage.
This very Demons before her had destroyed her village and brought endless nightmares.
However, she didn't move. Because she knew clearly that even if she rushed forward now, it would be in vain.
Moreover, watching Qual, like a caged beast being toyed with, futilely wasting his strength in this meticulously arranged cage, a mixture of hatred and pleasure spread through her heart—wasn't this a long form of torture?
Just then, a cool and soft hand gently covered her clenched fist.
It's Linié.
"It's Imitation," Linié stated in her flat voice, her deep blue eyes reflecting Lupa's tense profile. "I saw it before; when a human friend is emotionally agitated, another person will hold her hand like this."
Lupa trembled, turning her head in astonishment to meet Linié's pure, unadulterated gaze. A strange warmth seemed to instantly open up the fire within her, and her cheeks flushed. She instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but Linié held it tightly.
"Who... who's trembling!" Lupa's voice trembled with embarrassment and anger. She turned her face away, but ultimately did not break free.
Lowell took in the whole scene, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips, before turning to Frieren beside him. "How was it?"
Frieren's emerald eyes swept across the battlefield, her gaze lingering for a moment on the eight mages' fluid manipulation of magic and precise teamwork before she calmly offered her assessment:
"Her talent and foundation are both excellent. Especially her understanding and application of 'Ordinary Attack Magic,' which has transcended the level of simple Imitation, and has developed its own human variations on the basis of 'Killing Magic.' Serie has taught her well."
Solitär watched with great interest, her pale green eyes gleaming with the excitement of a researcher.
"Ah, it's Qual. This scene... combat training? Interesting. This guy is a die-hard fan of Discal, and he's being used as a training tool for humans here? Hmm... he's been captured after all, isn't he?"
The battle lasted for about ten more minutes.
Although Qual possessed astonishing learning abilities and an impeccable defense, the constant barrage of attacks from eight well-prepared experts clearly took a toll on his magic power. His counterattacks were no longer as sharp as they had been initially; he focused more on holding his ground and searching for the almost nonexistent opportunity to break through.
Although the eight mages also showed signs of fatigue, their formation remained solid, firmly suppressing Qual in the center of the field. The situation reached a delicate balance, or rather, a precisely controlled stalemate.
Lowell frowned slightly, a hint of doubt rising in his heart. He had personally petrified Qual; that seal was not something that could be broken by ordinary means. Serie wasn't here, so who had the ability to break the seal and then reseal Qual just as the battle was about to end?
Just as the battle reached a stalemate under precise control, a clear, cold voice, like the dripping of ice water onto jade, rang out from the shadows not far behind the group:
"Ice Coffin Seal."
As the melodious sound rang out, the temperature in the entire training ground plummeted. The magic permeating the air instantly stagnated, and countless ice crystals shimmering with arcane light condensed out of thin air, transforming into crystalline chains that swiftly wrapped around Qual's body!
These ice crystal chains carried extreme sealing power. Wherever they passed, the magical fluctuations around Qual were Frozen solid. He was firmly imprisoned in place, like a dark purple sculpture covered in frost. Only the red light in his eyes, which had not yet been extinguished, proved that he had not been destroyed.
A figure slowly emerged from the shadows.
She was an Elven race girl with a unique temperament.
Her face was serene and beautiful, her skin fair, and her clear eyes gazed into the distance, a faint melancholy settling within them. Long, pointed elf ears peeked out from her pale golden hair, which was tied into an elegant high bun, with the rest flowing freely. A few carefully braided strands added a touch of untamed refinement.
She wore a loose-fitting, elven-style robe with a cinched waist, the fabric light and airy. But what was most striking was the wide belt around her waist—set in the center with a perfectly round obsidian stone, dark and deep, as if imbued with the magic of the night.
After confirming that the seal was stable, the elven mage slowly turned around. Her icy blue eyes calmly swept over Lowell and her group, pausing briefly on Frieren before finally settling on Lowell's face. Her gaze was as still as a well, as if nothing in the world could stir any emotion in her.
"Training is over." She said in a cool, clear voice, her tone calm yet carrying an undeniable resolve. "Qual, I'm taking you away."