2024-05-07 19:57:04Meanwhile, in Riverbend Hamlet,
on the banks of the Silverwater River, the tranquil waters flowed gently, reflecting the moon's ethereal glow.
The river's surface rippled with a mesmerizing dance, mirroring the starry sky above and casting a serene ambiance over the hamlet.
Sir Elias Hawthorne stood on the riverbank, his weathered features illuminated by the soft moonlight.
Beside him, Oasis, still reeling from the revelations of his legacy, stood in silent contemplation.
The magical box and its contents lay between them, a silent testament to the mysteries that surrounded them.
The air was thick with anticipation as both Sir Elias and Oasis grappled with the weight of their thoughts.
Seven years' worth of unanswered questions swirled in their minds, mingling with the echoes of Oasis's father's words.
The letter's contents reverberated in the silence, each word carrying the weight of destiny and purpose.
As they stood in quiet reflection, the tranquility of the night was suddenly shattered by a surge of energy that rippled through the air.
The queen's aura, unleashed from the heart of Sylvaneth, reached even the quiet hamlet of Riverbend, its presence palpable in the night air.
Sir Elias's keen senses picked up on the subtle shift in the atmosphere, and he turned to Oasis with a knowing smile.
"Something good must have happened in the capital," he remarked, his voice tinged with anticipation. "Without a doubt, that is Queen Elara's magic."
Oasis, amazed by the power of the queen, felt a surge of determination coursing through him.
"I am going to be stronger than her, and stronger than everyone," he declared with unwavering resolve.
Turning to Sir Elias with a determined expression, Oasis made a request that echoed with the weight of his newfound determination.
"Please, Sir Elias, can you train me?" he asked, his voice filled with conviction.
Sir Elias's smile widened at Oasis's request, a spark of excitement dancing in his eyes.
"I was already planning to do just that," he replied, his tone brimming with enthusiasm.
It was as if a lion had spotted its prey, ready to embark on the thrill of the hunt.
With a steely resolve, Oasis affirmed his commitment to his own growth and development.
"I have to conquer myself before I conquer the realm and my problems," he declared, his words echoing with the weight of his determination.
"First things first," Sir Elias spoke with authority, his voice carrying a soothing resonance.
"Since your magic energy has stabilized, let's completely heal your injuries."
As Sir Elias began the incantation of his healing magic, known as "Sylvan Restoration," the air around them seemed to shimmer with a serene aura.
The healing energy reflected on the surface of the Silverwater River, casting a gentle glow as it enveloped Oasis in its soothing embrace.
Oasis felt a warm sensation wash over him as Sir Elias's magic worked its wonders.
The pain in his chest dissolved into nothingness, replaced by a sense of rejuvenation and vitality.
His wounds healed completely, leaving behind no trace of the injuries that had once plagued him.
With a deep breath, Oasis felt as though he were reborn, his body restored to its peak condition.
After the healing was complete, Sir Elias wasted no time delving into a comprehensive explanation of the various magic natures in the realm.
He began with the kingdom of Avaloria, describing it as the "Kingdom of the Eternal Sun," where powerful fire mages and sand manipulators harnessed the energy of the sun and sand.
"Verdantia," Sir Elias continued, his voice filled with reverence, "is a kingdom deeply connected to nature."
He explained how druids and elementalists in Verdantia harnessed the power of earth and plants to protect their homeland,
utilizing magic that resonated with the lush greenery and natural abundance of the kingdom.
As Sir Elias moved on to describe Frostgard, he spoke of a land shrouded in ice and snow, where its inhabitants were mainly skilled in ice magic and frost-based combat.
The capital city, he explained, was a marvel of icy architecture illuminated by shimmering auroras in the sky.
With each kingdom he described, Sir Elias provided detailed insights into the unique characteristics of their magic and the ways in which it manifested in the inhabitants.
He explained how some individuals were naturally attuned to certain types of magic, while others gravitated towards different forms based on their innate abilities and inclinations.
"Magic is as diverse as the kingdoms themselves," Sir Elias concluded, his voice filled with wisdom.
"Each form of magic is a reflection of the environment and culture of its respective kingdom, and those who wield it do so with a deep understanding of its nuances and complexities."
As Sir Elias spoke, he gestured towards the Silverwater River, a glint of determination shining in his eyes.
"In my prime, I was best in utilizing wind and water magic," he explained. "Allow me to demonstrate."
With a series of fluid movements and incantations, Sir Elias channeled his magic, drawing upon the elements of wind and water with a grace that spoke of years of practice and mastery.
The air around them began to stir, a gentle breeze sweeping through the clearing as the surface of the river rippled in response.
With a focused gaze, Sir Elias extended his hands towards the river, his magic weaving together in a seamless dance of power and control.
A whirlwind formed above the water, swirling with increasing intensity as it gathered moisture from the river below.
In a breathtaking display of skill, Sir Elias performed a high-level double casting, combining his wind and water magic in a dazzling display of elemental mastery.
The whirlwind twisted and expanded, shaping itself into intricate patterns that danced across the surface of the river with mesmerizing grace.
As Oasis watched in awe, Sir Elias's control over the elements was evident in every movement, his magic flowing with effortless precision.
The air crackled with energy as the whirlwind surged with power, a testament to Sir Elias's formidable skills as a mage.
With a final flourish, Sir Elias released his hold on the magic, allowing the whirlwind to dissipate with a soft sigh. The air grew still once more, the surface of the river returning to its calm, reflective state.
"That, young Oasis, is the beauty of wind and water magic," Sir Elias explained, his voice tinged with pride.
"It requires patience, focus, and a deep connection to the elements and a lot cultivation. With practice and dedication, you too can wield the magic of the elements with such mastery."
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Chapter 503: The Flawless Disintegration.
“What kind of technique is this kid using…? I have never seen such a technique—one that can even cut natural mana, and the very mana of a person,”Eclipse thought, pupils narrowing as the shimmering threads of Oasis’s Heavenly Slicing Technique curved through the air like living blades.A collective murmur rippled through the noble gallery.Shock.Awe.Disbelief.They weren’t witnessing a simple art. They were witnessing a technique that defied the rules of the world.The nobles leaned forward instinctively, as if the closer they got, the more they would understand the phenomenon unfolding below.“Eclipse, what do you think about the way the kid uses his mana and techniques?” Ryu Pogoda asked, eyes locked on Oasis—unblinking, focused, almost predatory.Eclipse’s jaw tightened, then he exhaled slowly.“Mhh… beyond talented. He only releases what he needs—no movements or mana wasted.His control and efficiency are beyond anything I’ve seen from a child.”Ryu’s face darkened, realizing w
Chapter 502: Effortless Cleave.
The bell rang in the sanctuary, a deep, resonant hum that rolled across the grand structure like a wave.It was the signal—clear and undeniable—that the match between Oasis Volacris and Iren Booker had begun.At that very instant, the barrier around their massive battlefield flared to life.A translucent dome of shimmering azure energy expanded outward with a thrum, rippling like disturbed water.The air trembled faintly as the barrier sealed, locking the two young warriors inside a world of their own.Iren moved first.He slid into a stance with jarring sharpness, one foot behind the other, hands lowered yet coiled like a predator ready to strike.The morning glow washed over him—sunlight spilling over the battlefield, catching the edges of his cracked knuckles and the faint sheen of sweat glinting across his jaw.His hair fluttered behind him, stirred by both wind and the simmering aura gathering beneath his skin.He stared at Oasis, who stood hundreds of meters away.The distance w
Chapter 501: Freedom and Water.
The participants of the first group moved toward one of the massive stone platforms, their footsteps slow and steady as if drawn forward by fate itself.The colossal sanctuary trembled under the thunderous chants of hundreds of thousands.The morning glow spilled over the horizon, bathing the sanctuary in a pale gold sheen, turning every weapon, robe, and strand of hair into something divine.Oasis walked among the group, his presence quiet yet impossorily heavy—like a blade sheathed but ready to slaughter at a moment’s notice.Iren walked parallel but a bit further from him, chest puffed out, trying to look fearless… but even from afar, one could see his stiff shoulders and the nervous swallow he failed to hide.A thin mist hovered above the platform, remnants of dawn dew evaporating under the heat of the rising sun.The murmurs of the crowd rose and crashed like ocean waves, waiting—hungering—for the first battle of the tournament to begin.Above in the general stands, Venak, Daku,
Chapter 500: The Sixth Round Begins.
Next Morning…Kingdom of AurelionFlorentis City – Grand Sanctuary of GreatnessThe next day dawned without a single cloud in sight—a complete contrast to the violent storm that had raged the previous evening.The sky was crystal-blue, polished clear as if the heavens themselves had been rinsed clean.Yet the signs of the previous night’s rain lingered everywhere: droplets sliding down the sanctuary’s marble pillars, the scent of wet earth rising from the gardens, the faint shimmer of moisture still clinging to rooftops and banners.Despite this calm beauty, the atmosphere within the Grand Sanctuary of Greatness was anything but calm.After the conclusion of the fifth round, the participants were granted a long break—much needed, as many had fought battles that pushed them to the edge of life and death.Now, under the flawless morning sky, the sixth round was about to begin.Only 8 participants remained out of the original 256.But with Nova Sparrow still lying unconscious in the infi
Chapter 499: Troy of Lunar canals.
Then Troy gazed towards Joy.And Joy Valentine felt a shiver pierce down his spine—sharp, instinctive, like the cold edge of steel pressed to bare flesh.At that exact moment, lightning cracked behind him once again, splitting the sky open with a violent white tear.The thunder followed instantly, so loud it rattled the soaked earth and made the battlefield tremble.More and heavier rain hammered down in relentless sheets, drenching armor, banners, and blood alike, as if the heavens themselves were bearing witness to something unreal.Joy turned stiffly, his breath caught in his throat.Troy hovered in the air above them, suspended like a phantom in the storm—cloak whipping in the wind, hair soaked and wild, one hand resting on the hilt of a blade.His eyes glowed faintly beneath the flashes of lightning, calm yet impossibly sharp, as though he were gazing through Joy’s chest and into his very soul.“Are you by any chance under the man by the name Baca Welvard, Lord of Tranquility and
Chapter 498: Undercurrent Pass.
Around the same time as Zenon headed toward the city…North — Undercurrent Pass.The storm raged like an angry god, thunder rolling through the narrow valley while rain lashed down the rocky terrain.At the base of the jagged cliffs, skirmishes were underway—a chaotic, brutal clash of steel, mud, and blood.Vilnara soldiers mixed with Leyat’s forces clashed violently against the soldiers of the Genowa Region.The battlefield was a torn, muddy stretch of trampled grass, broken spears, and toppled banners.Bodies—friend and foe—lay scattered across the ground, merging with the mud as rain washed crimson streaks downhill.Despite the brutality of the fighting, here the enemy numbers were already severely thinned.Only about 300 Vilnara–Leyat soldiers remained.Genowa soldiers, once 1,000 strong, now stood at around 400, panting, wounded, yet determined.“Mmhh… we have thinned them significantly,” a man thought as he surveyed the battlefield.“But we also suffered a serious loss. I came h
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