The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 143

Crack! The Shockwave Cobra broke free from Alavin's grasp, charging wildly, striking earlier than Alavin instructed toward Lylian's Swordsmanship. Its speed was incredibly fast, impossible to evade.

With a loud explosion, the sound echoed throughout the arena. The Shockwave Cobra shattered on the spot, breaking through the white brilliance and even pushing back Lylian, nearly drowning her in uncontrollable flying sparks.

Lylian's face was stern as she retreated again and again, but Alavin, cutting through the chaotic storm of lightning, rushed forward at great speed.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The fierce clash reignited, with Alavin forcefully turning the tide of battle. His whole body was wrapped in lightning. The Dawnedge Blade in his hand gathered the electric brilliance, and his swordplay became more and more ferocious, pushing Lylian back relentlessly.

The atmosphere in the arena heated up once more, with many spectators shouting in excitement at the spectacle.

The Cobalt Strike Elders changed their expressions stealthily. Was this truly Alavin they knew?

Marthew and the other five Elders were in disbelief. Facing praise from Elders of various Organizations, they could only respond with awkward smiles.

"Lylian, break away from him; don't get entangled," the girls of the Floral Enchantress urged anxiously, sweating with worry.

Eyla watched Alavin on the stage with great enthusiasm. This scene surprised her once more.

The top heirs of various Organizations exchanged glances, each seeing the surprise in the others' eyes.

"You big brute, does picking on a little lady make you feel accomplished? Back off!" Lylian shouted fiercely. Her attack suddenly became sharp as she forced Alavin back, summoning a breeze around her, and preparing to ascend to the skies.

However...

"Earthtorrent Greatblade!" Alavin stomped and leaped into the air, his swordplay suddenly gaining weight. A majestic sword pressure, real and powerful, centered around the ancient blade, shook the platform, overwhelming Lylian and making many spectators around the stands retreat subconsciously from the oppressive force.

Lylian was forced back to the ground, her steps faltering, her face paling. As she was about to counter, Alavin's Dawnedge Blade was already at her brow. His presence was sharp as the sword's edge, his gaze piercing. "Surrender? Or shall we continue?"

The intense battle came to a sudden halt. From tumultuous to stillness, the abrupt change left many disoriented. NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

Lylian stood her ground, her silver sword raised halfway. Her stronger Swordsmanship was ready to be unleashed, but... there was no chance left. She paused, instinctively raising her sword again.

Alavin pushed his sword forward, the cold tip kissing her brow. “Don’t move now. I really could hurt you.”

The Protégées of the Floral Enchantress covered their mouths in disbelief, watching the stage – had Lylian lost?

The Protégés of Cobalt Strike were even more incredulous – had Alavin won again?

Alavin’s sword tip still pointed at Lylian’s brow, and he asked once more. "Shall we continue?"

Lylian pouted, her eyes reddening, tears falling on the spot as she stared at Alavin with a sense of reluctance. "I haven't used my full strength yet."

Alavin's strong aura collapsed, not knowing how to respond. What was this all about?

"Step back. Let's go again," Lylian said, her mouth tight, clearly not satisfied with the end.

"Sorry, fighting you is truly pointless," Alavin stated flatly, his sword tip advancing once more.

"You... despicable!"

Alavin shrugged, indifferent.

"Lylian," the Protégées of the Floral Enchantress hurriedly went up to the stage, embracing Lylian as they left the platform, casting 'fierce' looks at Alavin before departing – he truly didn't understand how to treat a fair lady.

The crowd was in uproar, emotions running high. There was nothing more thrilling than a ‘comeback.' Alavin surprised them once again, with both his swordsmanship and lightning Combat Magic, showing them a more real and complete Alavin. He won beautifully and spectacularly.

At The Clash of Eight Orders, a stage where only geniuses tread, for a Stage VIII Protégé to perform so astonishingly was beyond belief.

Yet, the ending was too abrupt, leaving many yearning for more.

The Protégés of various Organizations were left wondering if Alavin was really just at Stage VIII.

"Commander Kashann, you've got a fine seedling there, quite impressive," the old city lord nodded with a smile.

However, the Bloodlore Commander provocatively asked, "Is Alavin truly a servant of your Organization? Why would such a Protégé be a servant? If you don't fancy him, send him to us, I'll trade you ten servants for him."

Commander Kashann chuckled without replying, unsure of what to say. He wondered where the sword came from and where these Sword Skills originated. It was certain they were not of Cobalt Strike's teachings.

"I declare, the victor is..." The judge was about to announce the winner when Alavin suddenly raised his voice, challenging once more. "Cobalt Strike's Alavin challenges the Earthbound Spirits!"

"What do you wish to accomplish?" the judge asked Alavin. Was he not satisfied with the fight?

"I aim for the top ten," Alavin clarified, his intention clear. If he was there to make a name, why not do something outrageous?