Chapter 121

A cacophony of screeches and roars echoed from above.It was the survivors' only warning, but it was enough to set every nerve on edge. Nick’s heart pounded in his chest, and he sensed the soldiers around him stiffen, exchanging uneasy glances.

Just moments ago, they had planned to depart this desolate battlefield, and now they were about to fight for their lives. Again. The men tightened their formation, forming a semicircle around their wounded and exhausted, while Eugene and Arthur took the lead.

Nick blinked as he noticed something through the corner of his eye: a faint haze of mana drifted in the air around Eugene—it was subtle, not at all like the glaring energies that soared or flared in an active spell. Rather, it was more like the gentle swirl of water around a rock in a stream.

It didn’t take long to realize that it was a skill that boosted morale or calmed nerves as the men settled into formation and ceased their nervous fidgeting. Before, Nick would never have noticed such a subtle use of power without deliberately looking for it. Now, he could trace exactly where the faint haze emanating from his father ended.

The skill visibly calmed the men, stifling the reflexive panic that might have doomed them. They stood firm, interlocking their shields and bracing for the next battle.

Perhaps this skill explained why Eugene commanded such loyalty or why the men rallied behind him even after enduring so many losses. Considering his role, it made sense for him to develop such powers, but Nick was more interested in understanding how exactly he could sense their effects now.

He glanced at his forearms, where the faint blue lines of still refused to fade. The old alchemist is probably the best person to consult, given that he was the one who informed him of their existence months ago.

Another screech shook the air, closer this time. The men grew rigid, posture taut, awaiting the approaching threat. Arthur crouched as his sword crackled with faint arcs of electricity. In the pallid light drifting through ashen clouds, Nick glimpsed the older man’s grim expression and knew they were in for a hard battle. Then, at last, one of the wyverns broke the veil of swirling dust overhead.

It descended in a rush of wings. Its scales were a mottled grayish-brown, and it had a barbed tail behind it. Its jaws yawned wide, revealing fangs as long as Nick’s arm that glimmered with saliva. A single one of these would have been a difficult opponent in their current state.

It banked left, seemingly sizing them up. Arthur didn’t let it take its time, lunging in a blinding flash of lightning and unleashing a bolt at it. The energy struck the wyvern across its forelimb and wing membrane, causing it to shriek in fury. Though scorched, the beast retreated with a single powerful flap, quickly climbing higher and out of immediate reach.

Nick grimaced. , he reminded himself,. One adult wyvern could reduce a small settlement to rubble in minutes if left to it. Judging by the chorus of cries above, more than a handful soared overhead.

He swallowed, raising his wand even as the lines beneath his skin pulsed in warning. He wanted to gather mana for , but the memory of the last time he attempted heavy spells—of his own flesh nearly cooking from the inside—still lingered. , he told himself. If the beasts were doing something beyond the ash cover, failing to detect it would be suicidal. The memory of the stampede’s wyvern preparing a massive wind attack told him that giving them time would be suicidal.

Steadying his breath, Nick dipped into his mana pool. Soreness rippled across his arms, but it wasn’t nearly as crippling as before—the potion had healed the worst of it, and his improved stats did the rest. Carefully, he shaped the spell within his mind. Then, with a deep breath, he cast .

Dizziness crashed into him, and a wave of vertigo threatened to topple him as his senses expanded. The effect was more intense than ever. For a moment, the details of the battlefield blurred, every subtle air current, every flicker of mana, all pounded his mind at once. He clenched his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and forced himself to parse it gradually. , he reminded himself.

After a half-dozen cycles of the , clarity replaced the daze, and his newly heightened mental faculties proved enough to handle the flood of data. Lifting his gaze, he probed the swirling ash above. Sure enough, the wyverns soared in loose formation, each exuding powerful gusts of wind to remain aloft. More interestingly, Nick immediately noticed the synergy among them. Magic glimmered in their throats and along the membranes of their wings, swirling and converging with the power emitted by the others.

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He was surprised to recognize the broad swirl of mana as reminiscent of his own spell… but scaled to terrifying proportions. With a gulp, he realized they aimed to unleash a single burst meant to flatten everything below.

Nick cussed under his breath, then used a tendril of wind to whisper to Eugene and Arthur. “They’re building a large-scale wind attack. At least a dozen wyverns. If it lands, we’re done for.”

He saw the message reach them as both men paled. Such a spell would be almost impossible to endure, even at the best of times. Now, their battered group had no significant barriers to hide behind, and a good half of them were in no condition to fight.

Arthur wasted no time. He propelled himself upward in a crackling surge of lightning, crafting platforms in the air. He then swung his sword in a wide arc, unleashing a blinding wave that ripped through the ash clouds, parting them enough to reveal the greyish underbellies of a dozen wyverns. They soared in a circle, with a vast construct of swirling wind mana building up between them.

A hush of horror swept through the men below. Even without knowledge of magic, it was instinctive to understand that the resulting attack could become unstoppable. Nick didn’t need to say anything for everyone to realize that a direct hit would pulverize them.

Arthur yelled in frustration and launched himself at the formation’s flank, blade crackling. With three great leaps, he reached them and struck the nearest wyvern with a blistering slash, sending it careening off course. The beast roared in pain, turning sharply to snap its teeth at him.

Eugene, for his part, summoned a ball of fire before himself. Though far less dramatic than Marthas’ golden flame or Nick’s vacuum blasts, his technique was polished. He angled his left arm, and with a thrust of his sword, he let out a focused beam of scorching energy that lanced upward like a comet. Another wyvern reeled sideways as it struck its wing, forcing it to redirect its magic to keeping aloft. Flames scorched across its scaled hide, earning a furious screech, though not doing real damage.

Meanwhile, the rest of the formation glided seamlessly to patch the gaps. When one wyvern was forced out, two others shifted, ensuring the central weave of wind magic continued uninterrupted. Like pieces in a living puzzle, they compensated for each other’s absence.

Arthur tackled a second, then a third, constantly shooting lighting bolts to keep them engaged. Now faced with three at once, he whirled in midair, jumping from platform to platform to keep their snapping jaws at bay and to pull them away from the formation. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on novel_fіre.net

More men—archers, adventurers, and a few battered soldiers—launched spells and arrows into the sky. Many found no purchase against the tough scales, while the wind-laden magic surrounding the wyverns deflected or softened the impacts. Occasionally, a direct hit or well-timed skill jostled them, but nothing truly interrupted their casting. The swirling wind overhead intensified, and static hissed in Nick’s ears.

Eugene moved again. He summoned a bigger fireball and launched it upward, specifically targeting the same wyvern as before. The beast roared, tucking its wings to dodge, but it still caught the edge of the blast. This time, it screeched in rage and dove toward them.

With Arthur occupied above, no one could intercept it.

The beast stooped low, the wind tearing at its wings. Its jaws parted in a ferocious snarl as it prepared to bring death to them.

“Hold until it’s closer!” Eugene barked.

Nick felt the surge of tension and recognized the faint touch of mana spread all over the men that hinted at a group skill. They spread out, reminding him of how they had subdued Dewdrop, waiting for the perfect moment.

Dust and ash whirled as the wyvern rushed them. Ten more seconds, five, four… The monstrous silhouette grew, blotting out the sun. Nick prepared to cast a , bracing for contact.

At Eugene’s shout of “NOW!” the men activated the skill. Thick, glowing strands of white mana flared up in midair, creating an intricate lattice.

It snapped around the wyvern’s neck and torso with a bone-rattling crunch. The creature’s momentum carried it forward a few more yards before it toppled, slamming into the ashen ground a hundred feet away. An enormous plume of dust rose around the crash site, accompanied by the wyvern’s thrashing screech.

“Forward!” Eugene commanded, surging toward the pinned beast. Flames licked up his arms. Nick could only watch as his father closed in, the men forming a wedge behind him. It was a brave attempt, given the disparity in raw power, but even that wouldn’t be enough.

. With , Nick could sense that the construct overhead had reached a near-critical mass of swirling air currents. Another few minutes—maybe less—and the wyverns would unleash a cataclysm. The stifling pressure in the atmosphere had become so dense that Nick found it harder to breathe despite it having yet to affect the ground.

Despite that, he knew he had to intervene somehow. Pain flared in Nick’s arms at the mere thought, but he shoved it aside.

It would be a long shot, but if he could at least gain more time, Arthur might save the day.

Summoning the image of a swirling orb, Nick closed his eyes, acknowledging the agony that would come from using his advanced spells. would probably damage him, but it might be the only thing in his arsenal capable of disrupting such a powerful spell.

He inhaled the bitter, ashen air, tasting his own fear. This would be a desperate attempt. Steeling his trembling fingers, he pointed his wand up and began to gather what vestiges of power he could, ignoring the near-constant pulse of discomfort in his . Everything hung in the balance.

High above, the swirl of wind magic crescendoed. Nick could almost see the outline of a hurricane forming up there. , he realized.

Gritting his teeth, he started twisting his mana into a sphere, applying more and more pressure until it began to condense. Without the constant flow of power from , it was much harder, as he needed to be extremely precise to avoid any waste. Slowly, the spell took shape until he finally felt it stabilize.

With a yell, he unleashed it, stumbling back from the recoil. He tracked its ascent through his senses and felt the moment it approached the construct.

Just before it could make contact, a wyvern suddenly swerved toward it, and at its screech, a lance of air crashed into the sphere, causing it to explode prematurely.