Regressor of the Fallen Family Novel - Chapter 303
C303: Inside the Shadowy Woods
In the depths of a forest cloaked in shadows, a cluster of silhouettes raced through the dense foliage where not even moonbeams could pierce through. They hurried along a route that barely resembled a path.
“Huff, huff! Blast it all, how did it lead to this…!” An adult gentleman garbed in leather armor cursed while running, bearing the weight of a youthful man adorned in opulent garments on his back. Despite the young man having his eyes shut, his distinctive yellow complexion and dark hair hinted at his noble lineage linked to the Empire.
However, to the adult gentleman, the young prince was merely a cumbersome load—a highly significant burden that must not be misplaced under any circumstances.
– Secure the Second Prince through any means necessary.
– Only a descendant directly from the Emperor can serve as a shield against the Imperial assault and pave the path to a brighter future for us.
‘Is this even feasible?’ he pondered, pondering the prince’s abduction during negotiations. Would he trust them once he awoke, particularly considering their prior mission had ended on a sour note?
‘Let’s hope he doesn’t awaken and decide to have us all executed.’
The man was doubtful. Having infiltrated the officer ranks of the Central Legion, he had some insight into the overall demeanor of the Imperial family—arrogant individuals with inflated egos and no genuine skill, all convinced that no one surpassed them except the Emperor himself. Nevertheless, descendants directly related to the Emperor were rumored to be different, but that very fact might be all the more reason to dread them.
‘Why am I entangled in this doomed scheme? Curse it all!’
Yet, in ‘the Tower’, following orders was an unbreakable rule, and the man had no say in the matter.
– We’ve discovered a trace!
– It’s over there!
– Beep!
The sound of horns from below sent shivers down the man’s spine, urging him to quicken his pace even more.
‘Already?’
He recognized the pursuers—operatives from the Imperial Inspectorate. While the specifics of their unit remained unclear, it was evident they were elite operatives. They were relentless, akin to water specters that cling persistently to their targets, no matter how fiercely one tries to shake them off.
Nonetheless, the Inspectorate operatives weren’t the real issue. Their presence indicated that either Tris Hornsby, the Sword Hybrid, or Galen Decade, the Sorcerer of Raging Winds, was likely in close proximity.
‘Detestable beings.’
Even as an elder of the Tower, the adult man acknowledged he was no match for either of those formidable individuals.
While continuing his frantic sprint, sudden gusts of wind morphed into razor-sharp blades, assaulting him from all angles.
‘The Sorcerer of Raging Winds!?’
The bone-chilling cold seeped into his bones, and each cut from the wind bore a deadly threat.
Boom, boom, boom.
Gritting his teeth, the man instinctively drew the sword at his side.
Aaargh!
The ‘Grey’ Forceblade surged forth, dispersing the barrage of wind blades in all directions.
“Blast it!”
The ensuing roar would undoubtedly give away his position to his pursuers, but he had no other choice. The sight of the Sorcerer gazing directly at him from a distance of about one kilometer away far outweighed the importance of remaining concealed.
[Hand over the prince!]
Zzzt!
“Argh!”
A magical message, as potent as an offensive spell from a lesser sorcerer, struck his eardrums with brutal force.
‘We’re captured. There’s no escape now.’
If it had been the Sword Hybrid, there might have been a glimmer of hope. The man was no superhuman, but he possessed tricks up his sleeve—abilities that occasionally surpassed even those of superhumans, useful for tipping the scales in combat.
But no trick he knew could elude the Sorcerer of Raging Winds hovering in the sky above him.
So then…
‘Samyeong’s Sacrifice!’
If he was to perish, he would bring down the Sorcerer of Raging Winds with him. The odds were slim, but not non-existent.
‘Even if I fail, I can buy us some time.’
During that interval, his allies would swiftly escort the prince to safety. Determined, he flung the prince into the dark underbrush and activated the grey mana nestled in his heart.
‘Berserk. Mind Control, targeting the wizard. Memorizing for Battle Mode.’
He invoked a berserker spell that augmented his physical abilities significantly while inducing a frenzied state fixated solely on one target, and on top of that, a Tower secret—a Macro spell automating prepared battle magic.
As his vision clouded, a surge of grey power swiftly enhanced his physique. Three grey spheres, each the size of a human head, emerged from him and began to orbit chaotically.
Suddenly, a breeze swept by, and in an instant, a sorcerer with half-white hair denoting the passage of years descended before him.
“Palmon Riheart from the Central Legion, I—huh?” Boom!
The sorcerer’s composed declaration was abruptly halted by a Forceblade striking a barrier that materialized in front of him.
The saber-like Forceblade blazed like fire. Concurrently, black thorny vines sprouted swiftly where the sorcerer had landed, constricting him tightly.
Crackle.
Even as the surrounding barrier of wind and ice displayed fractures from the impact, the sorcerer within simply grinned in admiration.
“Oh? Is this the renowned magus swordsman of the Casel Magic Tower? It’s my first time encountering one in person.”
“Grrr.”
The sole response to his astonishment was a bestial growl.
Boom, boom, boom, bang!
As the lightning-quick sword strikes unfolded, the grey spheres discharged clouds of blinding poison gas, summoned thorny vines, and black lightning, persistently attacking the sorcerer.
Observing this, Galen Decade’s brow furrowed slightly.
“To surrender to madness? It’s peculiar to see magic utilized in such a state. But even with that, you are no match for my great—”
Crack.
As a grey Forceblade pierced through the shattered barrier to reach Galen’s form, his composure dissipated.
Aargh!
The sorcerer, with unusual agility, evaded the strike, but already a slender gash marred his handsome face.
“Blood…?”
It was a faint sense of pain, an unfamiliar dampness on his fingertips. Galen’s countenance twisted into an ugly snarl.
“My precious blood!!!”
The Sorcerer of Raging Winds—master of the elements of wind and ice, the epitome of combat magicians in the Empire.
To those in the know, he was also dubbed the Mad Narcissist—a high sorcerer among high sorcerers, a genuine psychopath by the cliché standards linked to spellcasters.
“I’ll tear you to pieces!”
As his blue eyes rolled back in fury, a cyclone of biting wind blades erupted from the heart of the storm Galen had conjured, extending nearly a hundred meters in every direction.
“Be torn to shreds, freeze!”
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.
“Aaah!” “Awoo!”
A gale rampaged through the serene night forest, and the unsuspecting creatures caught within this calamity began to flee in terror.
Charging into the heart of the storm, Palmon emerged spewing a fountain of blood before crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.
“Ah, ah…”
His body bore a multitude of wounds as if slashed by a myriad of blades. Yet, as he whimpered and struggled back to his feet, his injuries swiftly healed.
This infuriated Galen beyond measure.
“You endure? You DARED to survive!? This refuse dares to resist ME!!”
An otherworldly howl tore through the air as the Ice Storm Galen had summoned transformed into a deluge of freezing power, sweeping across the battlefield.
After the tempest of 5th-circle frost magic, amplified to overwhelming levels, had subsided…
Shhh…
A wintry wasteland had metamorphosed the midsummer forest, leaving a ruinous aftermath. At the epicenter stood Palmon, now an ice sculpture.
“Hahahaha! Serves you right, you piece of trash!”
Clang.
Was it the laughter that triggered it? Amidst the devastation, Palmon’s form shattered into icy fragments.
At that instant…
“This one’s crazier than the rumors suggested.”
A chilled voice reverberated through the devastated space, and Galen’s maniacal laughter came to an abrupt halt.
“You forgot why you were trailing that child? Without me, he would have met an untimely and screaming death. Tch, tch.”
The sound of tsk-tsking filled the air as an elderly figure materialized.
An old man with an unremarkable stature one might encounter in any rural village in the southern continent. His ragged cloak, comically thin for the warmth of summer and seemingly on the brink of tearing at the seams, emphasized his fragility.
A young man floating beside him appeared entirely out of place compared to the aged figure—so much so that they seemed entirely unrelated.
Nevertheless, Galen knew better than to evaluate solely based on appearances, and his expression hardened.
“Who are you?”
“Me? I’m the individual Tris and you have been pursuing.”
His response caused Galen’s face to freeze over.
“The master of the Casel Magic Tower?”
“That appears to be one title I go by.”
“You’re ‘The Serpent That Swallowed Truth’?”
“Ho, you’re familiar with that title? You’re quite well-informed for someone of your age.”
“Hah…”
Child, or ‘Ah-hae.’ The disdain in the old man’s tone would typically enrage Galen, but this time he could only meet the gaze with cold eyes.
“You reveal yourself to me? You’re feeling quite bold.”
“I should have arrived sooner. Unfortunately, I lost a promising lad due to that delay. Tch, tch. That ‘Shadow Sword’ truly lived up to its name in the end.”
“Shadow Sword?”
“Do you even know who assigned you your orders? For someone of your reputation, you are remarkably ignorant.”
A contemptuous grin crossed the old man’s face at the curse-laden words, while Galen’s countenance solidified.
“You possess a foul tongue for an old man. Let’s see how long you can continue spewing that filth.”
An effervescent white light surged from Galen, filling the sky with blinding radiance—an obvious focal point.
Crack.
A single step from the old man was all it took to shatter the serene ambiance, and a light cracking noise signaled the detonation of a pale blue force near him.
“Argh…”
Galen, suspended mid-air, shuddered as a faint trickle of blood flowed from his mouth.
“Mad…yet cunning? Was that frenzied display all merely a show?”
The ostensibly ordinary, frail old man wore a sneer. However, Galen was no longer laughing. His ultimate maneuver had been neutralized by what seemed like a mere gesture.
“Don’t be absurd!”
Frustration contorted the sorcerer’s visage as he exuded a bright, chilly halo.
But that halo, meant to annihilate everything, dimmed and was swallowed by the encroaching darkness.
And then…
Crash.
With a resonant burst, everything that once existed vanished as if it had never been.
Yet…
“Huh? He escaped?”
Astonished, the elderly man gazed into the void where Galen had stood, then chuckled before shaking his head in disbelief.
“So he had a trick up his sleeve as well. Heh, he’s not mad, but indeed cunning, isn’t he?”
As if conversing with someone, the old man’s queries lingered in the air, unanswered.
“I know you’ve been awake for some time now, kid. Are you intrigued by my proposition?”
At those words, the Second Prince Baros Van Ares, who had been dangling in mid-air as if unconscious, narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.
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