The clash between the white light and the iridescent light stirred a huge shockwave that swept across the ground.
Priestley was already in his waning years, and the acceleration of his decline caused by Tempest Caller weakened him even further. It was just a single clash against Astrid, but it jolted him to the point that blood started to seep from the corner of his lips.
Even so, he still firmly stood his ground.
Priestley raised his head to look at the shattered skyline and the black-haired man floating in mid-air, and he finally understood why he had sensed a bizarre aura from the moment he entered the barrier.
He shook his head and said.
“Your plan all along was to use that wind of degeneration to force me into shattering the barrier? It’s a well-thought-out plan. Even if I had known beforehand, I would have no choice but to do the same. But do you think that you have won with just this?”
Priestley’s eyes gleamed with renewed confidence as he eyed the slowly repairing cracks of the barrier. With a peal of laughter that was also tinged with burning rage, he roared hoarsely.
“Something of this extent won’t allow her to fully escape from the Dream Realm! In fact, I reckon that the earlier attack was already the limit of what she can do. It’s futile. She isn’t able to kill me!”
The Magician King smashed the bottom of his staff onto the ground, and the shadow extending from his feet split into three. His body began glowing brilliantly once more as he forcefully dispersed the dusk yellow wind that was trying to concentrate around him once more.
“This is an ancient spell from the long-forgotten Country of Shadows in the ancient era. Other than Tempest Caller’s degeneration ability, there is no means in the world that can kill me without triggering it. I still have three chances whereas you’re already on your last legs. A spell like yours can’t possibly be without cost, and it should be about time for you to repay your debt.”
“… I shan’t deny that.”
The earlier clashes with Priestley had nearly depleted Roel’s mana, which meant that he couldn’t sustain Time Devourer for much longer, not to mention that there were side effects for using it too.
Roel frankly admitted to his poor condition, but his eyes showed no traces of the despair Priestley was hoping to see. Instead, his lips curled into a smile as he repeated the words he had said earlier.
“I have already told you that you have lost, Magician King. You lost not to me but to our clan. Have you forgotten that there’s still one more of us around?”
Right after those words were spoken, a black-haired woman suddenly appeared by Roel’s side. She shot a cold glare at the lanky old man before offering her hands to Roel.
Roel interlocked his hands with hers, forming a bridge that catalyzed a
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