Cook could no longer hold on; his right arm was injured, a critical blow to an elemental swordsman, leaving him with nearly half his combat power gone.
Count Selin was visibly anxious, his gaze fixed on Cook as a hint of worry crept onto his face. He called out to the black-robed elder, "Mage Hil!"
The wrinkled face of the black-robed elder remained calm. Slowly, he extended his withered hand and murmured, "It's been ages since I've taken action... A three-element mage? Heh, Merilon, if you only had control over three elements, you wouldn't have been allowed into the Abyss Fortress. Show me your full strength!"
"Swish."
As he finished speaking, the elder surged forward with surprising speed, his once-frail frame now brimming with power as he vanished into the dim night.
"Old man, you're risking your spell models' collapse by attacking recklessly!"
Merilon's eyes narrowed at the black-robed elder, his expression becoming serious. Clearly, he recognized this man.
Yet, Mage Hil seemed unfazed by Merilon's words. As he advanced, he raised his hand high.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh."
Five fireballs materialized, streaking through the night toward Merilon.
This was a basic fireball spell, identical to Merlin's technique, but the elder cast it with greater ease and speed, his control evidently more refined.
This ease was due to the elder's stronger mental power, which allowed him to handle spells with precision. However, in terms of potency, Merlin's fireball was superior, thanks to the "Matrix's" analysis, which had optimized the spell from hundreds of thousands of models for stability and power.
The five fireballs formed a line, blocking Merilon's path, but this was far from the elder's only tactic—he had survived the brutal "Slaughterfield" war, after all.
Following the fireballs, the elder moved without a word, his hands weaving intensely as waves of fire energy surged with such force that even Merlin was taken aback.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh."
More fireballs followed, one after another, seemingly endless, and the elder's casting speed was nothing short of astonishing.
Merlin estimated that the elder could cast fireballs at least two or three times faster than he could.
In an instant, fireballs filled the air around Merilon, sealing him in, each one flying toward him in an assault as relentless as the earlier volley of crossbow bolts.
Seeing at least twenty fireballs bearing down on him, Merilon's face grew grim, and the earth element around him pulsed with intensity.
"Boom."
Earthen walls sprang up from the ground, enclosing Merilon on all sides.
"Bang, bang, bang."
Each fireball collided with the walls, but since Merilon's earth spells were only basic, they could resist a few fireballs but soon collapsed under the continuous barrage.
With each crumbling wall, Merilon's face grew paler, and after casting multiple walls, he began to show signs of exhaustion.
No matter how strong his magical reserves, Merilon couldn't hope to match the elder's power.
"Old man, are you really so loyal to Selin that you'd risk collapsing your spell models?"
Merilon's face was noticeably pale. Though he had managed to fend off the elder's attacks, it came at a high cost, and this was only the first wave.
Merilon was evidently familiar with the elder—this was the man who had survived the ruthless "Slaughterfield." Although the elder's physical condition likely hindered him from fully using his powers, Merilon dared not underestimate him.
In his quest for vengeance, the only person Merilon truly feared was the elder before him.
"Merilon, show me your strongest spell. Heh, the Abyss Fortress is known for its dark magic. Let's see some darkness spells!"
The elder seemed familiar with the Abyss Fortress, knowing that Merilon's true strength was yet to be seen.
"Spell model collapse?"
Observing from afar, Merlin's eyes sharpened as he listened to the exchange between Merilon and the elder, realizing the elder's secret.
No wonder he found the elder's power odd—his mental strength was clearly immense, yet he refrained from fully using it as if constrained by something. It turned out that the elder's spell models in his sea of consciousness were unstable, requiring constant mental energy to stabilize, leaving him unable to utilize them fully. Excessive use could lead to their collapse.
The elder's magic notes had warned that spell models must be built with utmost stability. Otherwise, their collapse would have severe consequences.
The mysterious black-robed elder possessed mental strength rivaling peak first-level spellcasters but had to devote most of it to stabilizing his models, leaving him unable to fully wield his spells or build first-level models.
Often, a look of deep melancholy could be seen in his eyes, undoubtedly due to this limitation.
"Old man, if you wish for death, so be it!"
Merilon's voice suddenly turned ethereal. A subtle elemental fluctuation emanated from him, unlike anything Merlin had sensed before.
"Dark Mist!"
Merilon's voice seemed to echo from all directions, and in an instant, his figure vanished. Merlin quickly extended his mental power but found no trace of him—Merilon had seemingly disappeared.
Where he had stood was now shrouded in darkness, with no sign of Merilon.
"Dark element? So, this is the mysterious dark element..."
The elder's expression was solemn. Merlin could still faintly make out the elder's silhouette, but as his voice faded, the sky grew darker, and soon, the elder's figure vanished entirely.
"Gone again? Dark element? Could this be the dark magic Abyss Fortress is known for?"
Merlin frowned, knowing nothing of dark elements, nor of the peculiarities of Merilon's "Dark Mist."
Yet, he was certain that Merilon and the elder's disappearances were linked to "Dark Mist." If the elder had survived the "Slaughterfield," he must have more tricks up his sleeve.
For now, Merlin, Count Selin, and the others could only wait and see.