Free Web NovelChapter 199: Chapter 195: Sweep 1
"You’re... that Magic Potion Alchemist from Shadow Moon?"
The Warlock recognized him, a look of utter astonishment on his face.
Ian looked up at the Warlock, and an almost imperceptible glint of gold flashed in his eyes.
It was thinner than a strand of hair, formless and intangible, yet it carried a condensed, crystalline coldness.
The sliver of golden light shot from the depths of Ian’s pupils, so fast it seemed like an illusion.
In an instant, it crossed the thirty-meter distance and pierced the center of the Warlock’s brow.
The Warlock’s body went rigid.
The astonishment, the confusion... everything on his face froze.
His open mouth hung agape, and the bloody light at the tip of his Magic Staff instantly dimmed.
He struggled to blink, as if trying to confirm something, then his pupils began to dilate, his gaze rapidly turning vacant.
His body swayed, his knees buckled, and he pitched forward.
His Magic Staff slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground with a CLANG.
The entire process took less than half a breath.
The Witch hadn’t even processed what had happened.
She only saw her companion suddenly freeze, then collapse.
Her pupils constricted, and the Skull at her waist let out a piercing shriek.
A viscous layer of blood mist erupted from her body, instantly forming three rotating Blood Shields.
"You..." she screamed, her fingers flying as she was about to form a Sealing Technique to cast a spell.
But Ian was already in motion.
At the same moment the Crystal Silk Thread shot out, he had already made a grasping motion with his right hand.
A Gravity Collapse Ball the size of a walnut, its interior light faintly collapsing, formed almost instantly.
The higher his Skill Level, the shorter the casting time. This Witchcraft had already become instinct for him.
’Go.’
The Collapse Ball vanished, flying silently toward the Witch.
The Witch reacted with extreme speed. Her three Blood Shields simultaneously turned, layering themselves in front of her.
She bit the tip of her tongue and spat out a mouthful of Essence Blood. The blood mist merged into the Shields, and twisted Runes appeared on their surfaces, causing their defensive power to skyrocket.
But she was mistaken.
Ian’s target had never been her.
The Collapse Ball traced a slight arc, bypassing the Blood Shields in front and smashing precisely into the ground at her feet.
It hit the Stone Slab carved with ancient Runes.
BOOM!
Space was violently compressed, letting out a tearing groan.
Centered on the point of impact, the ground, air, and light within a two-meter diameter all collapsed inward and twisted.
The Stone Slab shattered into dust, gripped and squeezed by an invisible force, and then...
BANG!
The Energy, collapsed to its absolute limit, violently rebounded, unleashing a transparent shockwave.
The ground beneath the Witch’s feet instantly caved in. She lost her footing, and the formation of her three Blood Shields fell into a hint of disarray.
And that was all it took.
Ian pushed off the ground, the bluestone floor cracking beneath him as he shot forward like a cannonball.
He crossed the thirty meters in the blink of an eye.
A vicious look flashed in the Witch’s eyes. With a push of her hands, all three Blood Shields exploded simultaneously.
They transformed into countless blood-red spikes that shot toward Ian like a torrential downpour.
At the same time, she let out a shriek, and the string of Skulls detached from her waist, forming a ferocious Ghost Head in mid-air that opened its maw to bite at Ian’s head.
Ian didn’t dodge or evade.
The [Ring of Overlapping Peaks] on his left wrist flared with brilliant light, layered over the Crystal Shield he’d already formed.
PHWIP! PHWIP! PHWIP! PHWIP!
The blood-red spikes slammed against the Light Shield, producing a series of muffled thuds.
The three layers from the [Ring of Overlapping Peaks] shattered instantly, and his Crystal Shield shook violently.
Countless cracks appeared on its surface, but ultimately, it did not break.
And Ian’s fist had already arrived.
The [Furnace Body Tempering Skill] activated at full Power, and the Jade-like Radiance beneath his skin nearly burst forth.
His entire right arm, from the inside out, radiated a warm yet unyielding luster.
His fist passed through the gaps in the Bloodthorns, slipped through the space between the Ghost Head’s chomping jaws, and slammed into the crossed arms the Witch had hastily raised to defend herself.
CRACK!
The distinct sound of breaking bones.
The Witch’s arms bent at an unnatural angle.
Her entire body was sent flying backward, crashing into the massive stone door behind her.
THUD!
A dull impact. The Runes on the stone door glowed faintly.
The force of the rebound made her spit up another mouthful of blood as she slid to the ground.
She struggled to get up, but her arms were broken and the blood energy in her body was in chaos.
The ferocious aftershock from that punch was still rampaging through her internal organs.
She looked up to see Ian already standing before her.
His eyes were calm, as if he were looking at a Stone.
"You... What kind of monster are you?" the Witch coughed up blood, her eyes filled with terror and disbelief.
’Is this a Level One Wizard? Isn’t he a Magic Potion Alchemist?’
’That eye attack just now... was that a Crystal Silk Thread?!’
’And that terrifying physical strength, that casually-formed Collapse Ball...’
Ian didn’t answer.
He lifted his foot and stomped down.
The Witch’s pupils dilated. The last thing she saw was the sole of a shoe rapidly approaching.
CRUNCH.
The sound of her skull shattering was short and crisp.
The Witch’s body twitched twice, then went still.
Ian retracted his foot and shook his wrist.
The recoil from that last punch had left even his knuckles feeling a bit numb.
That Witch’s Protective Blood Mist and her string of Skulls were indeed formidable defenses.
But... that was all they were.
He glanced at the two corpses on the ground. The Warlock was bleeding from all seven orifices, a sign that the Crystal Silk Thread had directly annihilated his Soul.
The Witch’s sternum was caved in and her skull was shattered—a clean, decisive death.
From the first move to the end, no more than five breaths had passed.
The stone door remained tightly shut. There was no movement from behind it.
’Either Phoenix didn’t notice, or... he did, but chose not to come out.’
Ian didn’t care.
He crouched down and quickly searched the two bodies.
He pulled a few blood-red Potions from the Warlock’s robes, stripped a Dimensional Ring from the Witch’s finger, and picked up the now-dimmed string of Skulls.
’Not bad materials. I’ll dismantle them later and see if there’s anything valuable.’
Then, he flicked out a wisp of residual fire from a Frost Ash Beam, igniting the corpses.
A dark red flame flickered, quickly burning the bodies to Ashes, not even leaving dregs behind.
Ian stood up and walked to the stone door.
The Runes on the door emanated a faint blue fluorescence, and he could feel faint spatial fluctuations as he got closer. He pushed it, but it didn’t budge.
He took out the Dark Red Token he had looted from Blood Slaughter and pressed it against the door.
The Token’s surface grew slightly warm, and the Runes on the door flickered a few times, but the door didn’t open.
’It needs a Blood Sacrifice Order...’ Ian recalled the Witch’s words.
He frowned, took the last Black Hole Potion from his Dimension Ring, and held it in his hand.
’If I really can’t open it, I’ll just blow it up with this.’
But just as he was hesitating...
BOOM!
A deafening roar suddenly erupted from within the door.
The entire stone door vibrated violently. The Runes on it flashed manically before dimming and shattering one by one.
A thick stench of blood poured from the cracks in the door, along with a terrifying, heart-stopping aura, like that of an ancient Fierce Beast awakening.
Ian’s pupils constricted. He took two steps back, tightening his grip on the Black Hole Potion.
Behind the door, a blinding crimson light shone.
Several roars filled with shock, anger, and pain squeezed through the crack in the door.
"NO!!!"
The instant the stone door blew open, a wave of blood-red light washed over Ian like a splash of thick soup.
The cloying stench of blood, mixed with the musty rot of an old burial shroud, drilled straight into his nostrils.
The scene in the cavern behind the door made his pupils shrink violently.
In the center of the cavern stood a three-story-high blackstone altar.
Atop the altar, dozens of Void Anchor Stones formed a circle, their silver light flickering erratically as if about to collapse.
In the middle of the circle hung a thing.
The thing... it looked like a dark red cocoon, two or three people tall.
Its surface was made of countless crimson threads twisted together, like a giant, soaked clump of vermicelli noodles, constantly writhing and intertwining.
The threads were wet, reflecting a viscous light.
Occasionally, the silhouette of a human face would bulge out from the cocoon’s surface with a "POP," its mouth wide open, but no sound would emerge.
Yet, just looking at the shape made a buzzing static ring in one’s ears, causing one’s brain to throb.
A cold, viscous aura carrying the pressure of a Level Two Wizard seeped out of the cocoon like a winter fog, filling the entire cavern.
Over forty Level One Wizards were crammed into the cavern, a scene of total chaos.
Hogan and Catherine of Shadow Moon Tower were standing against a wall, their faces as white as paper.
Phoenix of the Deep Red Royal Court was cowering behind a stone pillar, holding a Token that glowed with blood-red light and muttering something under his breath.
His face was a mask of both excitement and terror, twisted into a ghastly expression.
Five or six gray-robed figures from the Withered Council were gathered together, their faces hidden beneath their hoods.
There were also four or five people from smaller factions, running around like headless chickens, some crying, some screaming.
The most eye-catching thing was the threads bursting from the cocoon.
There were thousands of them, each as thick as a wrist, flying around the cavern like living tentacles.
The tips of the threads split open to reveal dense, pin-sized mouthparts that made a HISSING sound.
The two Deep Red Wizards closest to the altar were entangled by seven or eight threads before they could even make a sound.
The threads tightened, followed by the CRACK-CRACK of breaking bones.
The needle-like mouthparts pierced into them, and their bodies deflated like leaking balloons with a few "PFFT" sounds.
Their skin clung to their bones, their eyes bulging.
Then, with a BANG, they exploded into two clouds of blood mist, which were completely absorbed by the threads.
"RUN!!!"
Someone was the first to howl.
The crowd erupted.
The people from Shadow Moon pushed forward, the ones from Deep Red tried to move toward Phoenix, and the members of the Withered Council turned and charged for the entrance.
The people from the smaller factions were in even more disarray. One Witch screamed and threw a Fireball, but it sizzled out with a "TSSS" the moment it hit a thread, not even producing a wisp of smoke.
The next second, five or six threads wrapped around her, dragging her toward the cocoon.
The Witch’s scream caught in her throat, turning into a gurgling, "HURK HURK," and in the blink of an eye, she went silent.
"Open the door! Fucking open the door!"
Someone rushed to the stone door that Ian had just been at—now blown open—and frantically pounded on the frame.
The door was cracked open, but Ian was on the other side.
The man looked up and saw Ian. He froze for a moment, then his eyes turned red.
"Get out of the way!"
He was clutching a poisoned dagger and, without a second thought, lunged to stab Ian in the stomach.
Ian didn’t move.
Gaga, on his shoulder, did.
A black shadow flashed, and steel-like talons latched onto the man’s wrist with a SNAP.
CRACK!
His wrist bone shattered, and the dagger fell to the ground with a CLANG.
The man screamed, but before he could react, Ian’s left hand was already pressed against his chest.
From his fingertips, a thread of extremely fine, pure, frosty-white cold energy silently seeped in.
The cold energy bored into his heart, instantly freezing the chambers and blood vessels.
The man’s body went stiff, the terrified expression on his face frozen in place.
A few icy cracks spread across his chest with a CRACKLE, and he fell backward, ramrod straight.
He hit the ground with a THUD, and his skin was quickly covered in a layer of white frost.
The few people charging up behind him screeched to a halt.
They looked at their instantly-killed companion on the ground, then at Ian standing in the blood-red light of the doorway, and their faces changed.
"It’s... it’s that Magic Potion Alchemist from Shadow Moon!"
"He killed Sixth!"
"Get him together! We need to break out!"
Three or four of them exchanged a glance and attacked simultaneously.
A Corrosive Ray, two Bursting Fireballs, and a Shadow Stab that silently aimed for Ian’s back.
Ian didn’t even lift an eyelid.
A [Crystal Energy Barrier] instantly deployed, and thirty-six Floating Crystal Guards shot out with a howl.
Half of them crashed into the Fireballs and the ray, while the other half wove themselves into a dense net to block the attack from behind.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The Fireballs exploded, the ray was annihilated, and the Shadow Stab scraped against the Crystal Guard net with a piercing screech.
As for Ian, he was already moving.
He pushed off the ground, which cracked with a CRACKLE, and shot like a cannonball into the middle of the three or four men.
He clenched his right fist, the Jade-like Radiance under his skin erupting as he smashed his fist into the side of the nearest person’s face.
POW!
The man’s head exploded like a ripe watermelon.
Red and white matter splattered all over the face of the person next to him.
The person next to him, scared out of his wits, turned to run.
Ian shot out his left hand, his five fingers forming a claw. He gripped the back of the man’s neck and twisted hard.
SNAP!
The man’s cervical spine broke, and his body went limp.
The third person had already retreated five or six meters, a Scroll clutched in his hand, which he was about to tear.
Ian pointed his right index finger.
A beam of pure, bone-chilling, frosty-white cold, like a nail, precisely pierced the center of his brow.
PFFT!
The man’s movements froze, and the Scroll slipped from his hand.
A small hole went straight through his forehead, its edges coated with thick frost. Not even a drop of blood flowed out.
He swayed and collapsed.
The fourth person saw how bad the situation was and turned to run deeper into the cavern.
Ian didn’t give chase.
He pulled back his hand, flicked the blood from his wrist, and looked up into the cavern.
In just those few breaths, another four or five people had died in the cavern.
The threads spread like a tide, entangling, crushing, and draining everything in their path, whether it was the Stones on the ground, corpses, or living people.
