CHAPTER 1141: THE CLASH

Lysander swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he stared at the being towering above the storm clouds. cold and heavy fear began to creep into his chest, until he could feel his pulse hammering in his ears.

Could he really face something like this alone?

The being’s head turned slowly toward him, and their eyes met.

Those eyes, the twin orbs of blue-white lightning, flared with such intensity that Lysander’s heart lurched violently. It felt as though that gaze pierced straight through his chest, burning his resolve.

"This is not the time to feel scared."

The voice came from within. Steady, sharp, and familiar. It was his own voice.

"Right." He clenched his jaw. "If I fall into fear now, then what about Master Adrius who was still holding the barrier? What about the people below, who’ll die the moment I falter?"

He exhaled, his fear transforming into determination that was sharpened by desperation.

At that moment, Lysander pushed every trace of hesitation aside. Magic flared through his veins, a surge so powerful that arcs of blue and gold danced across his skin.

The wild lightning striking at him from all directions began to bend and scatter, deflected by the current surrounding him.

He soared higher into the storm, his robes snapping violently in the wind.

He also has a high affinity for lightning. The storm was not his enemy. It was his element.

"Fine, he thought, his lips curling into a half-smile despite the chaos. "If this is a contest, then let’s see whose lightning is stronger."

It was the same mindset he had long ago before he became Adrius’s apprentice. Back when his arrogance fueled his victories and he thought himself invincible because of how strong he was.

Until the day Adrius came back to the kingdom and defeated him effortlessly and shattered that pride. But right now, he needs that part of himself again. The reckless fighter who feared nothing.

The sky flashed as Lysander raised his staff. He gathered his Magic energy into a single point, and with a shout he unleashed it.

A bolt of yellow lightning erupted from the staff, roaring through the winds and slamming straight into the being’s chest.

The explosion was blinding. Thunder rolled so violently it shook the earth below. The black clouds split open under the force, revealing a fraction of clear sky.

Lysander lowered his arm. His eyes narrowed through the haze. He knew better than to think it was over.

The light receded quickly.

Then, he saw something that caught him off guard.

The storm god reeled. A gash cut across his chest. Deep and crackling with unstable energy. From the wound, glowing blood seeped out and floated like mist through the air.

Lysander’s eyes widened in disbelief. "I actually... wounded it?"

He hadn’t expected to even scratch the creature. Yet there he was, bleeding and staggering.

The being’s expression twisted into fury. The light in his eyes flickered wildly and unstable, as if something within him was faltering after the attack.

Lysander grinned grimly.

He pointed his staff forward again, flying closer through the swirling debris.

But as he did, the being raised his arms and summoned the storm back to life.

The lightning that had once battered the barrier now turned upon him.

"Ugh!" Lysander grunted, his body convulsing as dozens of bolts struck him in quick succession.

His protective enchantments shimmered violently. The protection held under the assault but started to crack with strain. So he also felt the pain rippling through him, but he kept going.

He pushed forward, step by step through the air, every strike against him only feeding his fury.

The storm god’s full attention was now on him.

He flew straight toward the heart of the storm. His staff start blazing with yellow light again.

—

Down below, Adrius let out a long and weary breath as the deafening thunder above finally shifted away from the barrier.

The strain that had been crushing his arms and shoulders began to ease, and the pressure of maintaining the Magic lessened slightly.

Sparks flickered out around him as the surge of energy stabilized. The storm’s fury now focused somewhere higher where Lysander was.

"Phew, this is good," he murmured weakly, though his voice carried more worry than relief. He lowered his hands, the glowing runes under his feet dimming as he exhaled again. "He’s drawn it away."

But even as he said it, a pang of unease settled in his chest. He knew what that meant. Lysander was alone facing something that was never meant to be fought by a single man.

Around him, the soldiers were beginning to recover. They staggered back to their feet, coughing through the smoke and rain.

The ramparts were scorched black, the stones still crackling with residual electricity.

A few men clutched their ears or stumbled and dazed, but by some miracle, no one died around him.

"Archmage," one of the generals approached, rain running down his armor. "What are your orders now?"

Adrius’s gaze lingered on the sky for a long moment. Above bursts of lightning flared and twisted in unnatural patterns, followed by Magic clash.

"I need to help him," Adrius finally said, his voice firm. "But first we must reinforce the barrier."

He turned sharply toward the general. "Gather all remaining high-ranked Mages. Now."

The general bowed and immediately ran off, shouting orders. Messengers sprinted through the rain, calling for every Mage still capable of channeling power to regroup.

Adrius took the moment to gather his breath, planting his staff into the ground. The circle beneath him flickered.

He could still feel the tremors in the storm above. The presence emanating from that being was overwhelming. It didn’t feel mortal or like a regular manifestation of Magic. It radiated the same dreadful energy he had felt once before, from the ancient god that Erend and Eccar managed to banish at that time.

The thought made his stomach twist. "So, Erend and the others didn’t finish it after all."

This creature was a summon of the entity’s. Killing it might only delay what was to come. If the entity was still alive then killing this being above him is useless, he will just be revived again.

Adrius’s expression darkened at the thought.

Soon the Mages arrived. There were five of them. They gathered around him, forming a small circle.

"Archmage," one of them said, "what is your command?"

"We strengthen the barrier," Adrius said. His tone was calm but edged with urgency. "We’ll pour everything we have left into it."

The Mages nodded, determination flickering in their faces.

Adrius raised his staff once more. The runes beneath his feet brightened, and new layers of sigils began to form in the air, circling the city in pale blue rings of light.

—