The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 239

In the deep of night, silence reigned, and the fortress stood on high alert.

Lucan and his two companions lay in hiding, each at a different point around the fortress. At the same moment, they began to recite an incantation, a chant obtained from the Chained Spirit, one capable of awakening the Immortal Edge.

Their voices, deep and resonant, carried the magic through the air, drifting through the fortress halls. The sound was soft and eerie, at times like the chirping of night insects, at others like a low whisper, gradually enveloping the entire fortress.

Within a hidden chamber, the old Lord Lanard stood vigil over the blade known as the “Immortal Edge,” anxiously awaiting news from Lawren and fearing their plans had gone awry.

Though eight years had passed, the Cobalt Strike's treatment of Stormcast suggested their fury from years past had not abated. Should the sword resurface, Cobalt Strike would surely unleash a maelstrom of blood and vengeance, and the Rocke family would not escape ruin.

Did Lanard regret the day he seized the ancient blade? Not in the slightest. In this world, the strong ruled supreme, and without risking the climb, how could one reach the heights of power?

Were he to choose again, he would make the same decision without hesitation.

Lanard counted the days on his fingers. "Seven days with no word – what in the blazes are they doing?!"

Suddenly, a series of faint sounds drifted into the chamber, echoing long within the confines of the room. Lanard slowly rose, puzzled by the noise. He preferred silence and had strictly forbidden any disturbance at night, but this sound was most peculiar.

As he moved to push open the stone door of his chamber, the Immortal Edge behind him erupted with a clangor-like clashing steel sound, sending a wave of force reverberating through the confined space.

Lanard's spirit lifted as a thrill of surprise showed on his face. Had the sword awakened?

The Immortal Edge, which had been silent for over eight years, began to rise. Its ancient runes glowed on the blade's surface, growing brighter and casting strange shadows in the chamber, like figures encircling the ancient sword, mysterious and venerable, filling the room with an air of desolate antiquity.

"It's awake! The sword has finally awakened!" Lanard exclaimed, moving toward it with joy.

But then, with a clang, the Immortal Edge suddenly unleashed a fearsome surge of sword's energy. The projected figures all looked up, arms raised high as though issuing a thunderous call. The chamber shook violently, cracks webbing across the floor and walls as the light grew blinding and the sword's energy terrifying.

Lanard's expression shifted, realizing the danger. If the sword's energy became too great, would it not alarm the entire city?

As he moved to contain it, the Immortal Edge shot skyward, shattering the chamber ceiling and soaring toward the heavens. Suspended amidst the clouds, it shone like a second sun, its piercing light and intense sword's energy churning into a hurricane of blades that roared through the night, shredding clouds and dimming the stars in a stunning display.

The Immortal Edge's projected shadows grew larger, with eighteen towering figures appearing throughout the city. They resembled ancient statues – massive and touching the heavens, some clad in battle armor with auras that pierced the sky, others in regal robes commanding respect, and others still brandishing great hammers and roaring across the land.

Eighteen figures, each with divine presence and unique splendor, a sight of wonder!

The sudden spectacle roused the slumbering Golden Scorch, awakening nearly a million souls. NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

Endless sword's energy rained down, accompanied by ancient and authoritative cries. "What is that?" the people wondered aloud, mouths agape as they gazed at the night sky and the colossal shadows in the distance.

"Damnation!" Lanard cursed, desperate. But how would he retrieve the Immortal Edge, hanging hundreds of meters in the air?

Lucan and his comrades were stunned by the unexpected scene, having only intended to guide the sword with their chant, not foreseeing such a display. “Retreat!” The trio decided to withdraw, and as the city’s gaze remained fixed on the high spectacle, they successfully escaped Golden Scorch.

“Withdraw!” Together, they recited the incantation once more.

The Immortal Edge’s towering sword's energy suddenly collapsed, and the dazzling light vanished abruptly. The violent energy storm, now uncontrolled, lashed out across the land, enveloping the ancient city as the eighteen shadows dissipated.