Chapter 43: Master Level, [Particle Torrent]!
The sky was painted with the remnants of a blood-red sunset, the evening glow casting an eerie light on the gray and white square. The sounds of souls being sent to their final rest echoed, and people hurried by, their footsteps quickened by the somber, melancholic atmosphere that pervaded the area.
Another group of people entered the square.
They came from the direction of the forest, looking disheveled and worn, their wizard robes tattered and stained with blood, as if they had just survived a life-and-death battle.
Upon entering the square, relief washed over their faces, a collective sigh from those who had narrowly escaped death.
They embraced one another, tears of relief and joy streaming down their faces.
Passersby, other wizards, cast curious or indifferent glances their way, thinking perhaps this was another group of unfortunate souls who had narrowly escaped the clutches of the sinister black-robed wizards.
After the initial wave of emotion, the wizards began to gather around a tall figure in their midst, offering him magic stones and solemnly bowing to kiss the hem of his gray robe.
This gesture represented the highest form of gratitude and respect among wizards, rarely used in informal settings.
Yet here it was, being offered by many to a single person, without any feeling that it was inappropriate—a truly remarkable sight.
"I spent fifteen magic stones on this proper robe..."
Ronan glanced down at his robe, now marked with damp patches from the gestures of gratitude, feeling a twitch of annoyance.
But he tolerated it, considering the bag of magic stones he had received as compensation.
Looking up at the blood-red sunset and the white mist enveloping Hoddam Academy, Ronan felt as if he had returned after a long absence.
"At least I survived," he murmured softly, snapping back to reality to look at Old Wills, Vinicia, Sherrill, and the wizard Barry and his son, who had not yet left his side.
Old Wills and the others clearly intended to stay with him, but as for Barry and his son...
"My uncle has always assisted a formal wizard at the academy. He owns property in the town... I don't want to, but we have no choice but to seek his help now," Barry explained with a resigned expression, leaving an address before expressing his heartfelt gratitude to Ronan once more and departing with his son Sean.
After seeing Barry and Sean off, Old Wills, Vinicia, and Sherrill inquired about Ronan's next steps.
Ronan had now become the de facto leader of their small group, replacing Old Wills.
"Let's find a place to stay first. Tomorrow, I'll try to contact Andre and the others. They should have already arrived in town," Ronan replied, rubbing his forehead, unable to hide his exhaustion.
Hoddam was bustling with people, the air thick with tension and pressure, but all Ronan wanted was a soft, comfortable bed to sleep in.
Night fell.
In a small wizard's inn in the town's residential area.
The room wasn't large, the windows tightly shut. A few sluggish moths repeatedly battered against the old, glowing crystal wall lamp.
"Whoosh—"
Ronan stepped out of the bathtub, naked, grabbing a towel to dry himself off as he stepped onto the cold wooden floor.
"Ah—"
After drying himself, he exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair as he walked to a silver dressing mirror in the corner of the room.
The reflection showed a tall, handsome young man, exuding vitality and brightness like the rising sun.
However, a few strands of gray among his chestnut hair gave him an air of maturity and mystery beyond his years.
"Is this a side effect?"
Ronan mused, lightly touching his hair, frowning slightly before inspecting the rest of his body.
Everything seemed intact.
Apart from the self-inflicted dagger wound on his inner thigh and a few small cuts on his cheeks and hands from the battle, he was otherwise unscathed.
Having treated the wounds, they had already scabbed over, causing a mild itch.
Satisfied with his condition, Ronan dressed and sat at the table in the center of the room, reflecting on the day's perilous battle.
The black-robed wizard, an advanced apprentice, had immense mental power, cast spells fluidly, was well-equipped, and had rich combat experience. Even among his peers, he was undeniably a formidable opponent.
Ronan's survival and eventual victory were due not only to the significant disparity in their skill levels, which led the opponent to underestimate him, but more importantly, to the sheer power and impact of the master-level [Energy Missile]!
Thinking of this, Ronan couldn't resist opening his status panel.
**Name: Ronan Damien**
**Age: 16**
**Talent: Non-Elemental Affinity**
**Power: Level 5 Wizard Apprentice (11%)**
**Skills: Basic Meditation (Expert 219/800)**
**Energy Missile—Particle Torrent (Master 1/1600)**
**Charged Weapon (Proficient 344/400)**
**Rune Engraving—Cleanse (Skilled 177/200), Shine (Skilled 27/200), Protect (Beginner 13/100)**
**Ascetic Body Training (Proficient 105/400)**
**Basic Swordsmanship (Proficient 395/400)**
**Fireball (Beginner 10/100)**
**Iceball (Beginner 20/100)**
**Detection (Skilled 8/200)**
Master-level [Energy Missile]!
In the desperate moments when Ronan considered fleeing, he unknowingly maxed out the expertise level of [Energy Missile], breaking through to the master level.
The master-level [Energy Missile] didn't just transform in form and strength; it gained the suffix [Particle Torrent].
"Particle Torrent."
Ronan uttered the words softly, recalling the scene when he unleashed the master-level [Energy Missile]. It drained all his mental energy in one go, absorbing a vast amount of free energy particles to form black particles that exuded a terrifying aura of a torrent, seemingly capable of crushing and obliterating everything.
Even in hindsight, it was a frightening thought.
Despite being new to the master level, with only 1 point of proficiency, it allowed him to leap several levels, instantly defeating a powerful advanced wizard apprentice!
This power was comparable to first-rank spells that only formal wizards could learn!
"After reaching the master level, [Energy Missile] seems to have evolved into a completely different spell."
Ronan recalled the black-robed man's murmured words before his death, a particular term standing out vividly in his memory.
It seemed to be called...
Domain?!
"Tap—tap—tap"
Ronan's fingers drummed rhythmically on the wooden table as he finally recalled the full name of the term.
"Extraordinary... Domain!"