All Chapters of Rise of The Greatest Mage of all Times : Chapter 51
- Chapter 60
78 chapters
Chapter fifty-one: Ashes of Oaths
The silence after the storm felt unnatural. The air over Valenor hung heavy, charged with the remnants of Kael’s creation — the Aetherblade still humming faintly in his grasp like a heartbeat made of light. Below, the floating city burned. The Archmage Council’s spires cracked under invisible pressure, their wards shorting out from the pulse of Kael’s awakening. What had once been the world’s symbol of order now drifted in chaos — mages shouting, sigils collapsing, spells unraveling midair. Kael stood among the wreckage, his cloak torn, his eyes cold. The Runeblood glow beneath his skin flickered like embers struggling against the wind. Lira stared at him, disbelief in her voice. “They’ll come for you after this. You broke every law of the Guild, Kael. Every one.” He sheathed the Aetherblade, its edge dissolving into pure essence. “Then their laws were never meant to save us.” He turned toward the horizon — the ruins of Orin’s home somewhere far beyond the cloud line. The me
Chapter fifty-two: The Mercenary’s Lesson
The Warlands stretched before them, a scarred expanse of twisted earth and shattered spires, where once-great fortresses had fallen into ruin. The sky was a dull, bruised gray, thick with the smoke of ancient fires, and the air tasted faintly of iron. Kael and Lira moved cautiously through the wasteland, the Aetherblade humming softly at Kael’s side, resonating with the lingering pulse of the Tower. Lira’s boots crunched over broken glass-like stones, her eyes sharp, always searching the horizon for threats.“This place,” Lira muttered, her voice a mixture of awe and apprehension, “it feels… alive. Like it remembers every battle fought here.”Kael nodded, scanning the shifting shadows. “The Warlands hold the echoes of everything we’ve seen. It’s a test of patience and power. And soon, a test of survival.”From the swirling mists, a figure emerged. Tall and broad-shouldered, armored in scorched iron with rune-etched pauldrons, he moved with the confidence of one who had survived countl
Chapter fifty-three: The Dance of Shattered Light
The Warlands’ horizon shimmered under a bruised sky, where jagged spires of obsidian jutted from the cracked earth like the teeth of some fallen god. Kael and Lira moved cautiously through the open plains, the Aetherblade strapped to Kael’s back, pulsing faintly with his life force. Every step resonated with the echoes of battles long past; the land itself seemed to murmur warnings of danger. “I don’t like this,” Lira muttered, her eyes scanning the horizon. “Too quiet. Too still.” Kael’s hand rested on the hilt of the Aetherblade, the faint glow of fused fire and frost flowing along his veins. “Quiet is never safe. Rogan warned us — the Warlands don’t forgive hesitation.” Their caution proved prescient. From the swirling dust to the east, a band of figures emerged — seven mercenaries, each radiating relic-born magic. Their eyes glimmered with unnatural light, and their weapons were etched with runes that pulsed with corrupted energy. One stepped forward, taller than the rest, a j
Chapter fifty-four: The Relic Storm
The Warlands stretched endlessly beneath a bruised and storm-choked sky. Jagged cliffs pierced the clouds, and lightning danced across distant peaks, reflecting off fractured rivers and shards of shattered stone. Kael and Lira crouched behind a ridge, surveying the battlefield. Before them, a full battalion of relic-wielding mercenaries had formed a crescent, encircling the ridge like a predator surrounding its prey. Each soldier radiated a corrupt shimmer of ancient magic, their weapons etched with runes that glowed malevolent red and black. The air itself seemed to vibrate with anticipation. “They’re not holding back,” Lira muttered, eyes narrowing. Her daggers gleamed in the fractured light. “Kael… there are dozens of them.” Kael’s hand rested on the Aetherblade, its dual-colored edge pulsing with life. The Aetherheart in his chest thrummed louder, sensing the multitude of hostile energies. He took a deep breath, feeling both fire and frost swirl within him — a tempest of elemen
Chapter fifty-five: The Siege at Emberfal
The sun sank low over the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of crimson and gold. Emberfall, a modest village nestled between the jagged cliffs of the southern Warlands, lay quiet under the dying light. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, the scent of burning wood mingling with the crisp evening air. It should have been peaceful. But peace, Kael knew by now, was a fragile illusion. Lira crouched beside him on a ridge overlooking the village. “They’re here,” she whispered, her voice taut with tension. Across the valley, the banners of the imperial soldiers flapped in the wind, their ranks marching with disciplined precision. This was no small patrol — it was an assault. Kael’s hand brushed the Aetherblade at his side. The pulse of the Aetherheart throbbed beneath his chest, sensing the tide of fear and aggression. “They’ve come for Emberfall because of the relic rumors,” he said quietly. “And if we don’t act fast…” His voice trailed as he surveyed the soldiers: hundreds of heavily a
Chapter fifty-six: The Sage of Shattered Peaks
The wind tore across the jagged cliffs of the Shattered Peaks, carrying snow, ash, and the distant echoes of battle. Kael and Lira climbed with measured steps, each footfall cracking the frozen stone beneath them. The Aetherblade, still freshly crafted from the Grimoire’s fragments, hummed faintly, sensing the pulse of latent power in the peaks. It was a resonance he had felt only once before — deep, ancient, and dangerous. Lira shivered beneath her furs. “I’ve heard rumors,” she said, voice low. “They say this mountain holds a sage who can bend weapons to the will of the wielder… and even teach relics to obey.” Kael’s eyes narrowed. “If anyone can help me control the Aetherblade fully, it’s him. The Grimoire’s fragments are powerful, but raw. I need focus, mastery… or it’ll destroy more than just me.” Ahead, a stone stairway carved into the cliff spiraled upward into the mist. At its summit, a structure appeared — ancient, yet impossibly intact, a temple suspended between crag and
Chapter fifty-seven: The Outlaw’s Gambit
The sun hung low over the jagged horizon, casting the Shattered Peaks in hues of crimson and gold. Kael and Lira descended the final ridges, their breath steaming in the icy air, their cloaks torn and dusted with frost. The Aetherblade hummed faintly at Kael’s side, its elemental resonance matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. Every step brought them closer to the open plains below — and into the teeth of the Mage Guild. Lira squinted toward the valley. “We’re not alone,” she said, voice tight. Her hand brushed against the hilt of her dagger. “Guild banners… hundreds of them. And they’ve spotted us.” Kael’s jaw tightened. He had expected pursuit — after all, he had become an outlaw in the eyes of every council and guild in Eldoria. But the scale of the assault was more than he anticipated. From the valley floor, a legion of mage-hunters, armored and wielding relic-infused magic, advanced with precision. Elemental flames licked their gauntlets, shadowy tendrils coiled around staffs,
Chapter fifty-eight: The Sky Monastery
The wind howled across the cliffs of the Celestine Peaks, carrying shards of snow and the faint scent of ozone. Kael and Lira ascended the final ridge, their breaths shallow in the thinning air, their cloaks flapping like banners in a storm. Above them, the Sky Monastery floated amidst the clouds, its white spires glinting gold under the sun. The structure was said to be ancient, older than any mage’s memory, where air itself was taught as both weapon and shield. “Kael… it’s beautiful,” Lira whispered, shading her eyes as they approached. “Do you think they’ll even let us in?” Kael didn’t answer immediately. His amber eyes traced the spires, noting the way the wind shifted unnaturally, forming currents as if the monastery itself were alive. “They’ll let us in,” he said finally. “But only if we prove we belong.” The path was treacherous, narrow ledges winding along sheer cliffs. Every step demanded focus; one misstep would send them tumbling into the clouds below. Kael’s pulse synch
Chapter fifty-nine: The Sky Monastery
The wind howled across the cliffs of the Celestine Peaks, carrying shards of snow and the faint scent of ozone. Kael and Lira ascended the final ridge, their breaths shallow in the thinning air, their cloaks flapping like banners in a storm. Above them, the Sky Monastery floated amidst the clouds, its white spires glinting gold under the sun. The structure was said to be ancient, older than any mage’s memory, where air itself was taught as both weapon and shield.“Kael… it’s beautiful,” Lira whispered, shading her eyes as they approached. “Do you think they’ll even let us in?”Kael didn’t answer immediately. His amber eyes traced the spires, noting the way the wind shifted unnaturally, forming currents as if the monastery itself were alive. “They’ll let us in,” he said finally. “But only if we prove we belong.”The path was treacherous, narrow ledges winding along sheer cliffs. Every step demanded focus; one misstep would send them tumbling into the clouds below. Kael’s pulse synchron
Chapter sixty: The Gale’s Crucible
The first light of dawn shimmered through the drifting clouds around the Sky Monastery, painting the spires in gold. Kael stood at the edge of a floating platform, Lira beside him, wind tugging at their cloaks and hair. The air crackled with latent magic, and the Aetherheart thrummed in Kael’s chest like a warning bell. “Kael,” Lira said, voice tense, “something’s coming. I can feel it… Guild signatures. Many of them.” Before Kael could respond, the clouds split, and a formation of airborne riders emerged. The Guild hunters were unlike any he had faced before: clad in wind-resistant armor, each wielding relic-forged weapons, their mounts partially bound with elemental air — griffons with storm-twisted wings, glinting talons slicing the clouds. “Seems our peace lessons ended at sunrise,” Kael muttered, gripping the Aetherblade. Its edge shimmered with unstable threads of flame and frost, ready to slice reality itself. The Guild leader, a mage known only as Veyris, called out, h