Downs, the legendary once-in-a-century mage, reacted and responded at a speed that exceeded everyone's comprehension.
In their minds, even Sorcerers, who cast spells through bloodline instinct, weren't that fast. While the Cleric was still trying to focus and chant in preparation for casting a banishment spell, Downs had already unleashed Chain Lightning.
He'd even cast it with a spell that simple: "In the name of [Ampere]—"
Ampere?
Who?
Some New God we didn't know about?
Before they could react, the darting bolts of lightning had already blown their Worldviews to pieces.
No friendly fire! Not a single miss!
The purple-blue bolts, thicker than a man's thigh, were like the long bamboo skewers used for kebabs, effortlessly impaling the charging wraiths one after another.
The wraiths' ghostly features had been warped and distorted by their deranged minds, and their mouths often let out pained moans. Now, it looked as if Downs had electrocuted the expressions right onto their faces...
(Some unscrupulous spectator wondered: Does my disciple have what it takes to become Professor Yang, too?)
"Uwaaaah..."
The wraiths' terrifyingly pale eyes were forcibly stained with purple light. Their grotesque, ethereal bodies disintegrated completely beneath the powerful lightning, their translucent forms vanishing into nothingness.
Electrocuting a hundred wraiths in one go was already impressive enough. Even more outrageous was that the darting lightning remained under Downs's control from start to finish.
Several times, the bolts had nearly touched his companions' bodies or armor. But even when a companion shifted instinctively, the lightning somehow made an utterly baffling ricochet at the last moment and shot away again.
Nearly every wraith in sight had been cleared out.
Just then, the Ranger suddenly cried, "Look out!"
Before her companions could react, she had already loosed an arrow.
It hit, but it was useless!
Her [Hail of Arrows], imbued with the natural power of the forest, was swallowed whole by the enormous animated wooden cabinet. The spinning arrowhead blew out a drawer, then passed through the other side of the cabinet, unable to stop the massive thing from crashing down.
At the worst possible moment, the strongest person in the group—the Warrior—still hadn't recovered from the wraiths' [Frenzy] mental attack.
In the blink of an eye, a fierce whip of lightning cracked through the air.
"Bam!"
This medium-sized animated creature, powerful enough to be High-Level by any measure, was smashed to pieces by Downs's mid-range attack. Wood chips imbued with Spiritual Power burst through the air like scattering blossoms.
"Hiss—" His companions sucked in a sharp breath, guilt at not having come to Downs's aid mingling with their shock.
That response, that ability to fight at both close and long range—was this really the "green" novice Mage he'd claimed to be when introducing himself?
Downs's companions were secretly astonished. Meanwhile, the Shanzhai Archmage watching from afar finally let out a breath of relief.
For a moment there, Lein had nearly controlled Laifu to fire a huge fireball at the thing. Then Lein realized he'd been worrying too much. Right now, he was acting like an overanxious father.
After weathering the initial massive assault, things went much more smoothly.
Not every wraith had charged at them right away. While the main group attacked, a few wraiths had been doing who knew what: some were still tormenting their former enemies—now, theoretically, fellow wraiths—while others kept futilely pawing at the stone slabs and doors.
Seeing that only a few monsters remained, Pat the Cleric volunteered to handle the lingering spirits. "Sir, save some of your magic. We'll certainly need your spells again soon."
"Yeah! Leave the rest to us," the other three chimed in.
If they'd been uncertain about this mysterious High-Level Mage at first, they had no doubts left after seeing how cleanly and impressively Downs had fought.
Forget everything else. Just that ability to handle threats at any range proved Downs was among the very best High-Level Mages.
Oh, a Sorcerer?
What's a Sorcerer?
Never heard of one! Let's not keep in touch. We don't want Master Mage getting the wrong idea.
Besides, this was the Mage's domain, and they'd need to rely on him again before long. Keeping their Mage in top condition was another way to improve their odds of survival.
The monsters were picked off one by one.
Fifteen minutes later, the courtyard had fallen completely silent.
After a brief rest, they followed the map provided by the kingdom and headed for the Mage's workshop, supposedly located on the highest floor.
The four had thought Downs's earlier performance was his peak. Who would've guessed he'd only been warming up?
After so much hard training, Downs had been itching to let loose. When he saw a dark mass of armored warriors advancing with heavy steps, his eyes lit up, and his excitement was impossible to hide.
After all, he'd studied [Science] for so long, but aside from that time in Ramanque City, he'd had no chance to put it to the test.
Now that he'd finally gotten the chance to fight openly, Downs was brimming with enthusiasm.
Pat kindly warned him, "Be careful, Sir Quijote. Those are Dreadguards. They're not Undead creatures, and they're exceptionally high-quality constructs."
In theory, any Mage with the [Construct Crafting] feat could transform any suit of heavy armor into a Dreadguard.
In practice, even the most pathetic Dreadguard was enough to give a full-fledged adventuring party a serious fight. And these were clearly a size larger than usual, each one a terrifying hunk of iron standing two meters tall.
Every monster guide published by the Adventurer's Guild said the same thing: if a monster was a size larger than normal, raising its threat level by one rank was a safe bet.
Warrior Huan gripped his shield with both hands. No matter how he imagined it, he could only hold off three at a time, at most.
John Shadowblade's head was buzzing. Any one of those Dreadguards would cost at least five thousand gold coins. In a Mage's world, "expensive" was often synonymous with "good"! These Magic constructs were the last opponents he wanted to face. "Sir, there's no shame in retreating for now. We can come back when we're fully prepared."
Downs curled up the corner of his mouth. "I'm the full! pre! par! a! tion!"
His words left all four of them stunned.
Rumor had it that Downs had given up his knighthood and stubbornly gone off to study magic. He'd learned it, sure, but it seemed his head still wasn't screwed on straight!
No, from the looks of it, he wasn't just dim—he was downright suicidal!
Couldn't he even judge his own strength?
The enemy had arrived!
The skull emblems on the Dreadguards' shields seemed to sneer. The spikes on their pauldrons and elbow joints gleamed with reddish-brown, bloodstained grime, while the two points of light in their menacing bull-horned helmets—the telltale glow of constructs—shone coldly. Dozens of Dreadguards formed a tide of death and charged straight toward the five-person party.
"In the name of [Tesla], I grant you destruction!"
Downs roared. His magic surged, and purple-blue Electric Serpents crackled into existence from thin air, coiling around him like living creatures.
In the next instant, as he thrust both palms forward, dozens—then hundreds—of lightning serpents became enraged dragons that devoured everything in their path, roaring toward the Dreadguards.
An endless torrent of lightning flooded the wide corridor.
A tide of steel?
Ridiculous!
Against an even more furious waterfall of lightning, what were these Dreadguards but targets on a practice range?
"Rumble!"
The Dreadguards, each weighing at least three hundred pounds, were tossed aside like scarecrows in a hurricane, lashed by lightning and torn apart by immense force.
When the storm of lightning passed, the corridor was a complete wreck. The Dreadguards that had charged so fiercely were now scattered all over the floor like broken dolls. Some of their parts had been driven into the walls so deeply that they couldn't be pried out.
"This..." Rogue John swallowed.
"Were Mages in ancient times all this powerful?" Christine asked Pat, the older Cleric, in a quiet voice.
Old Pat wiped his sweat and forced himself to believe what he'd just seen. "No. I heard an older bishop say that Mages in the past were definitely never this powerful."
Warrior Huan laughed. "Who was it that said we should retreat?"
John ducked his head in embarrassment.
Damn! Was I the idiot who couldn't judge his own strength!?
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