Whoosh—
A spatial rift tore open inside the Tower of Polar Night. Thanks to extremely precise coordinates, it opened directly into the so-called Death Corridor.
Gazing at the lingering, highly toxic cloud of death that drifted through the hallway, the well-prepared Langpu broke into a wide grin. A miniature skull pendant on his chest flared with magical radiance.
It was only a second-circle spell, yet the most fitting choice of all—
Disperse Mist.
It swiftly cleared any natural or magical fog within the area of effect.
With a gentle passing breeze, the lethal, hazardous death cloud dissipated in moments, restoring clear vision before Langpu's eyes.
At the far end of the corridor, heavy iron cages slowly ground open. Countless monsters rattled the cold bars with their razor-sharp claws, eager to break free and tear the plump enemy down the hall to shreds.
Yet Langpu merely raised his staff, which pulsed with an earthy yellow-gray light.
Wall of Stone.
Accompanied by a deep rumble, the ground shuddered, and a massive wall of solid rock abruptly surged upward, sealing all the monsters on the far side of the passage.
The frenzied, dragonized beasts refused to relent. They swarmed forward, crushing against the other side of the stone wall and trying to use their packmates' bodies as stepping stones, attempting to scale it through sheer numbers.
Langpu had no intention of giving them that chance. He raised his staff once more.
Grease.
A thick sheen of slick oil coated the floor, soaking the bodies of many dragonized creatures. With all traction lost, those clambering atop others slipped and tumbled down. Beasts of all kinds rolled and flailed against one another, degenerating into a chaotic heap beneath the stone barrier.
Yet that was not the end. A savage sneer spread across Langpu's fleshy face.
"Mere mindless beasts..."
"You think you can eat me?"
His staff flared with searing crimson light, unleashing violent elemental power.
A fourth-circle spell—
Wall of Fire.
A blazing wall of roaring flames erupted immediately against the stone barrier, its scorching tongues swallowing hundreds of dragonized monsters whole.
"Awooogh—!"
The creatures burst into flames instantly. The oil coating their flesh served as ready fuel, making the inferno rage with even greater ferocity. Even those that managed to pull away from the wall burned violently, their oil-soaked hides hissing as tongues of fire consumed them. Shrieks of agonizing torment tore from deep in their throats as they twisted and writhed amid the flames.
Watching for the right moment, Langpu effortlessly dismissed the magic.
The wall of stone slowly sank back down, revealing the corridor floor strewn with charred corpses.
Catching the rich aroma of roasted meat drifting through the air, Langpu's expression turned ravenous. He could not resist licking his lips, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth.
In the end, however, the ogre wizard—who had held high office for years—reined in his primal urges.
Wiping his mouth, he growled viciously, "Damn it all. If it weren't for Master's mission, not even your bones would be left."
"What a waste of so much good food."
Langpu hurried down the corridor, muttering under his breath.
Ahead of him stood a heavy metal door securely sealed by an Arcane Lock, shrouded in a dark, shimmering membrane of light.
Yet Langpu was thoroughly prepared. Wearing a look of total composure, he gently tapped the door with his radiant staff.
Knock.
With a soft pop, the magical membrane shattered into countless fine motes and vanished into nothingness.
The metal doors swung wide open with a resounding boom.
Langpu strode through.
Just then, a hazy image flickered within the Cataclysmic Dragon Eye floating beside him.
A figure draped in black robes appeared within the vision, pacing toward Langpu—the exact future predicted by the eye.
"Is he finally coming?"
"The so-called 'Dragon-Mad Black Wizard.'"
An eager, expectant grin spread across Langpu's jowly face. Sweat beaded on his palms as he gripped his staff, ready to unleash a spell at a moment's notice.
Sure enough, vicious black talons tore through the air, ripping open a spatial rift right before Langpu.
Vagnerd stepped through, clad in sweeping black robes.
"You are quite unlike those annoying flies of the past."
"You... are powerful..."
"And you lack that inexplicable detachment."
His raspy voice echoed through the long hall like a lingering phantom.
Vagnerd abruptly raised his head, fixing Langpu with a piercing stare, a chilling smile gradually creeping onto his face.
"You will make a splendid test subject, won't you?"
Langpu was no fragile human. Cannibalism was second nature to him, and the experiments he had performed on enemies were beyond counting. Thus, the disguised ogre wizard felt not the slightest fear; if anything, he felt a strange sense of kinship.
He merely sneered and lifted his staff.
"Heh, we'll see if you have the skill. From where I'm standing, that skull of yours would make fine material too—"
Unfazed by the taunt, Vagnerd continued staring at Langpu, a hollow void of negative energy welling in his eyes.
In an instant, his gaze transformed into a black maw lined with gnashing teeth, like an abyss dragging its quarry down into a bottomless pit.
Eyebite.
Forewarned by the Cataclysmic Dragon Eye, Langpu had long prepared his countermeasure.
A shimmering, mirror-like plane formed before his eyes, moving seamlessly with his gaze without obstructing his sight.
A second-circle spell specifically designed against gaze attacks—
Curtain of Gaze.
Vagnerd's Eyebite rebounded from the reflective surface, striking back toward his own eyes. Though absorbed by the protective black veil enveloping him, the backlash still caused his body to stiffen for a heartbeat.
Even his own sixth-circle magic was not something he could shrug off completely unscathed.
And Langpu had been waiting for this fleeting opening.
Pouring every ounce of strength into his staff, flames almost seemed to spout from his eyes as blazing fireballs hurtled toward Vagnerd in swift succession.
Langpu knew full well that Vagnerd had Contingency tied to Otiluke's Resilient Sphere, virtually granting him an extra life. His objective was precisely to force that safeguard out, carving out a better opportunity for Cassius to strike.
Yet Vagnerd's paralysis lasted only a fraction of a second, and clarity returned to his eyes almost instantly.
With a slight shift of his hand, an invisible field of force enveloped him, extending roughly half a meter around his body. Before the devastating fireballs could even touch him, their power was instantly extinguished, reduced to nothingness.
—An Antimagic Field.
"You coward, hiding in a shell like a turtle... You're no madman."
"Just a coward."
Langpu sneered mockingly and hurled another scorching fireball. After years of refinement, his Fireball had become a specialized art; combined with his red dragon bloodline's elemental affinity, its destructive force rivaled fifth-circle Evocation spells.
With Vagnerd's vast experience, how could he fail to realize that Langpu had studied his spell list in advance?
In a duel between wizards, such foreknowledge made an astronomical difference.
Between casters of equal caliber, knowing an opponent's repertoire could turn the battle into a one-sided slaughter.
A sinister, amused smile curled on Vagnerd's lips.
"Ah, I see. Though you are not one of those strange entities, you are with them, aren't you? Another puppeteer lurking in the shadows."
"Arrogant fool. Did you think glimpsing a mere tip of the iceberg gave you the right to stand against me?"
Chapter 210