The Mysterious Hand

"I'll show you the difference between me and a regular peak rank fifth-stage Guardian mage."

The young man projected his words into the minds of the students and the mages as he made his move.

The three attacks from the twin princesses and Wendel, unlike those of the mages prior to this, were different in not just appearance but in power. Even though they weren't the targets of the attacks, the protector mages felt threatened by the attacks.

'Fifth-stage of the Guardian realm.'

They all thought at the same time. Simultaneously, they were astonished at the degree of protection arranged for the trio and even began to see the light called hope.

The five metres gap was quickly covered by the attacks and the young man was now forced to face them. However, there was no ounce of fear or worry on his face.

The young man calmly raised both hands and crossed them in front of him as he prepared to receive the attacks.

Boom.

The two attacks from Aurora and Lyn were the first to arrive and they did so at the same time. Even before the explosion could sound completely, Wendel's attack struck from a different direction from the side.

Boom.

The combination of all three attacks created two explosions both yellow in colour, with the latter explosion intertwined with a bit of grey.

"Success." Aurora smirked.

Even the students were surprised and began to celebrate. Some of the protector mages even felt they now had a chance, believing that the combined attacks were capable of severely injuring the young man. Even if he wasn't dead from it, they felt that he would be injured so badly to the point that, together with the fourth-stage Guardian mage, they could resist him.

Wendel on the other hand, remained calm, neither celebrating nor pushing for a retreat. He had his eyes fixed on the figure that shot back from the point of the explosion and crashed almost ten metres away.

Both explosions from the three attacks forced the young man back which, to him, was unexpected. Nonetheless, they were insufficient to kill him. In fact, he wasn't even seriously injured.

"How..."

The students and the mages were all shocked. Even more so were Aurora and Lyn who knew the true power behind those attacks. If an early rank fifth-stage Guardian mage were to face them, they would have been grounded to a pulp. Even one of the mid-rank had a small chance of survival at the cost of a critically severe injury.

By those estimates, a peak rank fifth-stage Guardian mage should have been heavily injured, at least losing a limb or two, but the young man seemed fine except for the damages to his trench coat and the deep laceration on his right arm. While to a normal human being, that might seem like a serious injury, the opposite was so for a Guardian mage, especially one of the second phase.

"Fascinating. I underestimated you just now." The young man spoke up.

"Two attacks of the mid-rank fifth stage while the last one was of the early stage. Quite powerful indeed. However, what was really terrifying about them was their nature." The young man kept his right arm horizontal and glanced at the injury.

"Of the three attacks, the first two were of the gold element; one of the most offensively powerful elements. As for the latter, it was even more interesting; a mix of both gold and silver, the greatest of the metallic elements. Although it's a bit weaker than the other two, the combination of two variations adds a bit of unpredictability and flexibility to the attack. If it were similarly of the mid-rank as the others, I would have lost my arm."

The young man dropped his arm and continued.

"In truth, if it wasn't me standing here but a regular peak rank fifth-stage Guardian mage, they might have lost both arms."

While the young man calmly analysed the attacks, Wendel, Aurora and Lyn were aghast. Not only had the young man blocked their attacks but he had also described them down to their nature.

"Who, who are you?" The fourth-stage Guardian mage finally asked.

By this time, his comrade (the other fourth-stage mage) had recovered, but he was unbothered by that. All he wanted to know was the identity of the young man who had targeted them.

"Who am I? Ah, that's true. He must have failed to make the proper introductions when he first arrived. Oh well, I might as well do it myself. I'm one of the emissaries of the divine on this part of the continent. The vazīr known as Fenrir. Well, that's partially true. The me you see now is merely a false clone of my true self." The young man smiled.

"A false clone..." The fourth-stage Guardian mage muttered with terror-stricken eyes.

To be capable of making a true clone that possessed more than 10% of the user's ability, one would have to be in the Paragon realm. However, one can still make a clone that could move and fight but with only less than 10% of the user's ability. Clones such as this were commonly termed 'false clones', and the benchmark to being capable of making such with one's power was the seventh stage of the Guardian realm. Even then, the clones were limited in strength and performance, and this could only be improved by either utilizing a special artefact or talisman in making them or possessing a more powerful strength.

Based on what he had seen so far, the mage suspected that Fenrir's real body had the power of a ninth-stage Guardian mage at the very least. This was the level of one of the great dukes and closest to that of the king himself. However, that wasn't the scariest thing the mage had learnt so far.

Fenrir had mentioned that he was just one of the emissaries in this part of the continent, which was most likely the 13 kingdoms' region of influence. If just one of them was this strong, one could imagine the others. Such a force could easily stamp any of the kingdoms into oblivion and if the top figures of this mysterious organization were to appear, they could face any of the empires or even the sacred lands and possibly defeat them.

'How could such a figure and influence have remained hidden all this while? Who is he? Where is he from?'

With the knowledge that the original body was far above him, the mage realized that there was no escape. Although it was only a false clone facing them, the experiences and knowledge of the original body remained.

In other words, while the opponent had the strength of a peak rank fifth-stage Guardian mage, it was not wrong to say that he could contend with a sixth-stage Guardian mage of the early rank.

'Why haven't the others on the zeppelin noticed anything? Don't tell me they sent others to keep them busy?' The mage began to fret.

'Even if I'm going to die, I have to let them know the kind of power this organization wields.'

"It's about time I end this farce. It was fun while it lasted but I have to go now so I can't play with you any longer. This was one of my favourite clothing you know."

Fenrir sighed as he shook his head at the sight of his arms laid bare after the sleeves of his coat were burnt to ashes by the combined attacks.

"Now, die, pagan." Fenrir glanced at Asher.

"Huh?"

Fenrir didn't know when but at a certain point, Asher now had a dessicated hand with him. What was weird was that despite his senses and skill, Fenrir had failed to notice when Asher had retrieved the hand and held it with him.

'What is that?' Fenrir couldn't help but frown as he had a bad feeling about what Asher was doing.

"Stop that."

Unlike the very first time he had spoken or even when his tone had changed from its depressing tone before, Fenrir now spoke with a deep voice, one that was filled with authority. However, behind the power within the voice, there was a tiny hint of fear and apprehension.

Asher, who had retrieved the hand from the protector mage who held it right after convincing him with a bit of mental magic, had just broken the seal around it set by the protector mages and was currently imbuing it with wood mana and a bit of vitality energy from himself.

Ever since he had entered the tunnel, the weird orb within Asher had been reaching out to something and that 'something' had been calling out to him, or to be specific, the orb within him. Asher had later realized that it was the hand that was calling him just when he had approached it, but the circumstances of it as well as the situation at the time prevented him from doing anything to the hand or even taking it for himself to research.

Originally, Asher had planned to attack the protector mages and steal it from them before they returned to the zeppelin. With his third-stage Guardian mage strength, fourth-stage Guardian mental senses and incredible battle experiences, it was definitely doable. However, Fenrir had appeared and put a stop to any of his plans; at least for the moment.

Now he was facing a life-and-death situation, Asher decided to throw away any sort of caution and rely on the deep sensation within; the sensation that made him feel that if there was any key to survival here, it would be with the hand.

'I don't know who's hand you belong to or whether you're even a hand or a treasure. I don't even know how to use you or anything, but you better do something with all this mana I'm pumping into you.' Asher gritted his teeth as he drained the man in his body and sent it into the hand.

Seeing that Asher ignored him and kept on injecting mana into the hand, Fenrir became irritated and even more so anxious.

"You dare disobey! Die!"

'Do something already!' Asher roared inwardly.