"Heh heh..."
A chilling, mocking laugh suddenly shattered the night's silence.
The black-robed elder, who had been motionless, concentrating fully on suppressing the instability of his spell models, suddenly stood up shakily, his gaze fixed on the approaching giant fireballs. A faint hint of excitement showed on his pale face.
"It seems this old dying man can still be of some use."
The black-robed elder's body flared with intense fire elemental energy as he unleashed his mental power in a burst. It looked as though he were engulfed in flames, a wild aura spreading through the dark night.
He was forcibly activating his spell models despite the risk of their collapse.
"Swish."
A fireball appeared out of nowhere and, under the elder's precise control, shot straight toward the spot where Merilon had vanished.
"Boom."
The fireball struck an area that had appeared empty, but with the explosion, a faint outline emerged—Merilon himself!
Merilon's face was pale. Though the earth walls he summoned had blocked the elder's fireball, his expression betrayed an unmistakable dread as he fixed his gaze forward.
There, Merlin's eight colossal fireballs were hurtling toward him.
※※※
Merlin found himself in a vast void—empty, silent, devoid of sight, sound, or people. It was as if he were trapped in an empty, lifeless world.
Merlin's mental energy spread out wildly in all directions but to no effect. Though he knew this was Merilon's "Dark Mist" spell, he lacked the ability to break through it.
Dark magic was entirely unfamiliar to Merlin; he hadn't even heard of it before. He could guess that Merilon was close by, but he had no way of locating him.
Now he understood how the black-robed elder had been severely injured in the dark mist despite being a survivor of the "Slaughterfield."
"Boom."
At that moment, a loud collision broke the silence. It was as if a crack had opened in this empty world, letting in a sliver of light—firelight.
Merlin's mental energy, which had previously failed to detect anything, suddenly picked up his surroundings. He saw Merilon's panicked expression and the elder engulfed in flames, struggling to control the impending collapse of his spell models.
It felt as though Merlin had returned to reality from that desolate void.
He glanced at the black-robed elder in the distance, realizing that the elder had somehow broken Merilon's dark mist spell, allowing him to escape its hold. Having just experienced the dark mist, the elder had taken the risk of casting a fireball spell to disrupt Merilon's focus, breaking the dark mist.
Merlin would not let such a rare opportunity slip by.
"Explode!"
With a cold smile, Merlin's mental power guided the eight massive fireballs to encircle Merilon and detonated them.
Eight fireballs, each nearing the power of a first-level spell, exploded simultaneously, their combined force capable of obliterating any defense.
"Boom, boom, boom."
The successive explosions filled the night with roaring flames, engulfing the area around Merilon.
The towering fire illuminated the entire castle, casting a glow that shocked everyone. The fury of this firestorm far surpassed the previous volley of crossbow bolts.
Merlin's face was slick with sweat as he panted, his left hand gently touching the Bell Pendant on his chest. Though it appeared unchanged, Merlin knew this spellcasting tool was now depleted.
The intense heat had melted the snow around him, and when he shifted his feet, he felt the wetness of melted snow soaking his shoes—a discomfort in the freezing night.
But Merlin didn't care. His eyes remained locked on the center of the inferno as the flames gradually subsided and finally died out.
Lying on the ground was Merilon's scorched corpse, barely recognizable.
"Is he… dead?"
Count Selin muttered in disbelief. He had been resigned to his fate, and now the sudden turn of events left him in shock.
Merlin remained calm, unsurprised by the result. With the power of eight explosive fireballs, not even a first-level magic scroll could have saved Merilon—and he had no such scroll.
As a rare four-element spellcaster, Merilon had been an exceptional talent, earning him recognition from the core members of the Abyss Fortress. But without the Bell Pendant, and without the elder disrupting Merilon's dark magic, today's outcome might have been different.
This had been a far more formidable opponent than Jason the mage.
Merlin lifted his soaked feet and walked to Merilon's body. He crouched and began to search him.
The power of Merlin's fireballs had been overwhelming, reducing Merilon's clothes to ash. His charred body held little of interest at first glance.
The only item that caught Merlin's eye was a jet-black ring clinging tightly to Merilon's finger.
Merlin's curiosity was piqued as he remembered the ring given to him by the elder Etta, which contained a considerable storage space, where the elder kept his magic notes.
Eagerly, Merlin slipped the ring from Merilon's finger, wiped away the grime, and examined it in his palm.
The ring was black, emitting a faint glow in the flickering firelight. Merlin wasted no time, enveloping it in his mental energy.
"Boom."
He immediately sensed the ring's unique nature, his mental energy probing deeper.
"It really does have a storage space!"
Merlin's heart leaped with joy as he glimpsed inside the ring's space, comparable in size to Etta's ring, though filled with various items.
He withdrew his mental energy, looking over at the black-robed elder, who seemed to be in a troubled state.