The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 129

Marak was flung from the manor, barely managing to control his descent enough to land without too much embarrassment. Yet his clothes were torn, and his skin split and bruised, battered to a pitiful state, his wounds grievous. In a frenzy, he roared with the ferocity of a beast, his body emanating waves of energy so intense that the very ground beneath his feet shattered, and the surrounding rocks were torn asunder. Boulders and stones from all directions converged before him, forming a solid wall of earth.

Alavin was like a streak of lightning, darting forward with unstoppable force.

"Shadow! Sabre!" With a thunderous shout in his heart and a fiery glint in his eyes, Alavin charged, swinging his fists with all his might. He didn't wait for the earthen wall to settle; he collided with it head-on.

Boom!

The wall collapsed, the deafening crash reverberating so loudly that nearly half the city felt the ground tremble beneath them.

"What?! What power is this?" Marak's face twisted with shock.

From amidst the rubble and dust, Alavin charged, his fist swinging down like a hammer. Marak's head snapped back, and he was sent flying, crashing into a towering old tree more than ten meters away. The impact was so great that the tree, surrounded by a flower bed, nearly toppled over, its ancient roots bursting out from the soil in a cloud of dust.

Orland, Roald, and others followed outside just in time to witness this explosive scene, all taken aback. Other guards hurried over and also saw Marak being smashed away.

Dazed, Marak slumped at the base of the old tree, struggling to regain his senses.

Alavin stood before him. "Are you going to apologize?"

With great effort, Marak lifted his eyes, a fierce glint in them as he tried to strike again, but Alavin seized him by the throat and hoisted him high. "Apologize or not?!"

"Stop!" Orland and the others rushed forward.

Cedrick and his companions stepped in first. "Time to apologize."

"What in the world is going on here?!" Several Organization Elders arrived, scolding furiously. The Clash of Eight Orders hadn't even begun, and already there was chaos. What a disgrace!

"Apologize!" Alavin held Marak aloft, his fingers digging into his thick neck like iron tongs.

"I... I apologize... to Cobalt Strike..." Marak managed to gasp out the words.

"Louder!" Alavin's voice rose sharply.

"I apologize for insulting Cobalt Strike." No sooner had Marak spoken than Alavin flung him aside, watching him tumble and roll over ten meters upon landing.

With that proclamation, the newly arrived Protégés and Elders of various Organizations grasped the situation. The Earthbound Spirits had insulted and enraged a Protégé of Cobalt Strike. But the sight was strange to behold; Cobalt Strike harbored such a fiery Protégé, bold enough to pummel someone from the Earthbound Spirits!

"What has happened here?" Elder Marthew, representing Cobalt Strike, stepped forward.

"I was merely sparring with Marak," Alavin said, a light smile on his face, his youthful countenance seemingly harmless.

"I'm fine!" Marak waved off the assistance of his fellow Protégés, forcing himself to stand. Defeat was defeat; there were no excuses. This was The Clash of Eight Orders, where genius scions gathered; seeking excuses would only invite mockery.

"Sparring is acceptable, but be mindful of your strength. Alavin, you went too far. You'll be confined for one day," Elder Marthew said sternly, offering a semblance of reparation to the Earthbound Spirits.

"Alavin? I've never heard of such a figure in Cobalt Strike," murmured Elders and Protégés, who had gathered to watch in the nearby gardens. Brawls were common at every championship, but such a vicious beatdown was rare. It was even rarer to see the Earthbound Spirits' 'beast' so thoroughly bested.

As Alavin passed the Earthbound Spirits' ranks, he declared, "If I dare to come here, I have the right to be here. Don't look down on me!"

He was unapologetic and utterly unrestrained. Whether it was dominance or provocation, he had come to make a name for himself—to ensure everyone recognized and acknowledged him.

"Youngster, don't get cocky. We will be watching you at this championship! Mark my words!" Orland and his companions frowned. They represented the Earthbound Spirits, so to suffer such a beating even before the championship began was not only their personal embarrassment but also a disgrace to their faction.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.