Heir of the Darkgod in the Holy Academy

Chapter 7: Bait in the Narrow Alley

"Who sent you?" Leon asked, taking a step back until his heel bumped against the dead-end stone wall.

The youth's face paled, displaying the textbook terror of a cornered scholarship student in a dark alley. Grim let out a raspy chuckle, his deep voice echoing against the damp stone walls.

"You don't need to know who ordered your head, kid!" Grim snapped, waving his serrated cutlass. "All that matters is that one hundred gold coins is way too easy for the head of a useless 1st-Circle mage!"

The two warriors beside Grim snickered in satisfaction, flexing their fingers clad in thick leather gloves. Meanwhile, the built man to Grim's left—a battle mage named Kaelen—stepped forward with a firm stride.

Kaelen possessed eyes far sharper than those of ordinary mercenaries. A burn scar stretched across his neck, marking him as a frontline veteran who had discarded his honor for gold.

"Cut the chatter, Grim," Kaelen interrupted, his voice cold and emotionless. "Finish it quickly before the city guards patrol this sector."

Leon pressed his back against the wall, clutching the hem of his tattered academy shirt with trembling hands.

"P-Please... take all my money," Leon whispered, gasping for air. "I'm just a normal student... I've never looked for trouble with anyone!"

"Your cheap pocket change isn't worth a fraction of Young Master Valen's gold!" one of the mercenaries sneered, bursting into boisterous laughter.

Leon kept his head buried low. Beneath the bangs shadowing his forehead, his dull brown eyes flickered with cold calculation. He subtly shifted his foot a few centimeters to the left.

The fading late-afternoon sun cast a five-meter shadow from the surrounding walls, draping the entire dead-end alley in darkness. It was the perfect blanket of shadow to activate a dark domain without letting a single sliver of light leak out.

Leon gently lowered the wooden box of food supplies near the corner of the dead-end wall. He ensured the orphanage's supplies were safely sheltered behind a sturdy stone pillar.

"Kaelen, incinerate this kid until there isn't a bone left!" Grim commanded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Make his death look like an accident caused by his own failed magic backlash!"

Kaelen nodded curtly. The buzz-cut mage took two steps forward, spreading his arms into the air as he closed his eyes.

Bwoosh!

The ambient temperature in the narrow alley skyrocketed within seconds. A suffocating wave of heat swept across the damp stone floor, flash-evaporating the puddles into plumes of sizzling steam.

A blazing red magic circle two meters in diameter flared to life in front of Kaelen's chest. Intricate advanced fire runes spun at high speed, radiating a dazzling glare that scorched the evening gloom.

"Unfortunate kid," Kaelen muttered with a faint, merciless smile. "This 3rd-Tier Fire Magic has taken down dozens of armored knights. Dying at the hands of a former royal knight is the highest honor for trash like you!"

The mercenaries behind Grim laughed merrily, shielding their faces from the stinging radiation of heat.

"Hahaha! Look at him—he can't even move out of sheer terror!"

"The weakest light mage can only accept his fate and wait for death!"

Leon remained rooted to the spot like a statue. His left chest throbbed softly, triggering the Void Core to spin faster and faster like a bloodthirsty flywheel.

Pure energy from the dark core surged through his blood vessels, placing every nerve in his body on high alert. He was waiting for the precise moment.

"Burn to ash!" Kaelen screamed, violently hurling both hands forward.

ROAR!

A massive jet of flame erupted fiercely from Kaelen's magic circle. The blazing red fire coalesced into a raging flame dragon wave, engulfing the narrow alley completely without leaving an inch of space to dodge.

The stone walls on either side cracked and blackened instantly under the extreme thermal pressure. A concussive heatwave blasted small pebbles on the ground, shattering them into fine dust.

A full-power lethal strike from a veteran Rank C mage. Grim grinned broadly, lighting his pipe off a stray spark dancing in the air.

"All done. Let me grab our gold pouch and get out of—"

His words cut short instantly. The deafening roar of the fiery explosion suddenly ceased completely. An eerie, suffocating silence abruptly swallowed the narrow alley.

The scorching wave of heat that had been burning their skin vanished instantly, replaced by a bone-chilling frost that turned the mercenaries' breath into wisps of ice fog.

Grim's eyes bulged wide as he witnessed the scene before him. The colossal flame dragon—capable of melting iron gates—had been sliced clean in two mid-air!

Sizzle!

The blazing red flames didn't crash into the walls; instead, they were sucked into a vortex of dense, pitch-black fog surging up from the ground. The shadows beneath Leon's feet leaped upward like a living curtain of night, coating the walls and air around the youth.

An immensely dense void darkness devoured every tongue of Kaelen's fire without leaving a single trace of heat. In the center of the flames swallowed by shadow, Leon stood tall, unblemished.

His tattered academy shirt didn't bear even a speck of singe. Leon slowly lifted his head.

His messy brown bangs parted in the swirling cold wind, revealing twin eyes glowing brilliantly with a terrifying purple flame.

His disguise magic had unraveled completely. Standing there was no weak student named Leon Vance, but a sovereign of death ready to reap the souls of his prey.

Kaelen stumbled backward, his face as pale as parchment, his hands trembling violently as he stared at his fire magic circle, destroyed without a trace.

"W-What on earth...?" Kaelen choked out, his throat constricted. "My fire magic... swallowed by shadows?!"

Leon took a single, slow step forward. Each footfall sent ripples of black shockwaves surging across the wet ground, pinning every mercenary's shadow firmly in place.

Pure horror struck at the souls of Grim and his three men, turning their knees to water.

Leon stared at Kaelen with eyes as cold as if gazing upon a walking corpse, then parted his lips to break the suffocating silence.

"A decent magic technique," Leon whispered in an ethereal, reverberating voice that froze their blood solid. "Unfortunately, you hurled it at the wrong owner of hell!"