Arcane Journey

Brian saw that at this moment, Vizlan turned a deaf ear to the lich's sarcastic remarks that were like a sharp thorn.

He seemed to have completely forgotten his own pain, and didn't even bother to care about the shocking bloody hole on his chest that looked like a terrifying black hole.

The bright red blood gushed out from the blood hole like a stream that had broken free from its restraints, slowly slid down his strong body, dripped onto the hard ground, and then gradually condensed into a pool of water shining with a dark luster, as if it was a strange picture painted by the power of darkness.

It was not until this moment that Brian suddenly realized that the battle was actually over.

The final result, of course, was that Vizlan was defeated, and it was a very complete defeat.

In this magic duel between two legendary wizards, there is no high-level magic that is as overwhelming as a storm and as powerful as able to split mountains and rocks, nor is there any legendary spell that is as strange and mysterious as the fog in the dark night, which inspires awe.

What they performed were all unique methods that were like mysterious ghosts hidden in the fog in traditional methods and had never been seen by anyone.

The Mage Tower that Vizlan relied on was once like an indestructible fortress, standing proudly in the light of magic. But now it was like a giant with its backbone removed, appearing so pale and powerless in front of its opponent.

He also had the trump card of the Death Slaad that he had deliberately hidden in order to deal with the chief wizard, Hedrof. He thought it could be the key to turning the tide of the battle, but in front of his opponent, it was like a paper sword, and was easily dissolved into nothingness. Every time he tried to use his means, it was like a punch on cotton, and all his strength was silently dissipated.

Vizlan was like a dead tree that was ravaged by strong winds but still stood stubbornly, completely ignoring the hideous and bloody wound on his chest. His arm seemed to be pressed down by a thousand-pound rock and he slowly raised it with difficulty.

Every slight movement seemed to pull on the nerves in his whole body, causing veins to bulge on his forehead in pain and cold sweat to drip down like rain.

But even so, his eyes still revealed determination and perseverance, and he looked like he was struggling to cast other spells, as if that was his last ray of hope in this desperate situation.

Facing Vizlan's desperate move, the lich was like a cold statue. He didn't even have the slightest intention of defending himself. He just stood there silently, like an unshakable dark fortress.

The soul fire flickering in his eyes was like two balls of green will-o'-the-wisp fire, leaping strangely in the darkness, emitting a chilling aura.

His expression was like that of a wise man sitting on a fishing platform, confident of victory, and he was dismissive of Vizlan's counterattack. It seemed that in his opinion, Vizlan's struggle was nothing but a futile attempt to shake a tree.

Seeing the lich's indifferent appearance like a rock, Vizlan felt a fire burning in his chest. The anger was like a surging tide, completely drowning him.

He felt as if he had been stripped of his clothes in public and suffered a great humiliation. This humiliation was not very harmful but extremely insulting, and it pierced deep into his heart, so that the blood from the wound on his chest accelerated its flow like a stream bursting its dam, and the bright red blood slowly flowed down his clothes and dripped onto the ground beneath his feet, creating shocking blood flowers.

"I admit that I am indeed no match for you." Vizlan's voice was filled with a sigh, like an old clock that had been eroded by wind and rain for hundreds of years, heavy and weathered.

This duel he had carefully prepared for hundreds of years was like a brilliant but short-lived firework. Before it could bloom its brightest light, it had already dissipated in front of the powerful force of the lich, leaving him defeated and in disgrace. "But even so, I have something that you don't have." A gleam of determination flashed in his eyes, like a star twinkling in the dark.

Vizlan glanced at the Chief Mage hatefully, his eyes clearly containing thousands of words of anger and unwillingness.

His voice trembled, like a candle flame swaying in the wind, but with an unyielding stubbornness.

"At least I didn't sell my soul to 'her'." He spoke word by word, and each word was like a hammer, hitting the air hard.

"Faced with 'her' threats, I would rather lose everything I once had, all the glory, power, and status, and let them vanish like a passing cloud. I will never kowtow in front of 'her' like a dog wagging its tail and begging for mercy!"

Then, Vizlan's face was full of disdain, and his contemptuous gaze was like a sharp blade, piercing straight at the lich. Then, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, outlining a mocking arc, and continued:
"But you are very different. Look at everything you have now, the mountains of gold and silver, the impressive power and status, but in the final analysis, aren't you getting all of it under the protection of 'her' who is like a huge umbrella? If you were in the same situation as me, facing numerous difficulties and difficult choices, you wouldn't necessarily be much better than me."

"Okay, I can't win, so I'll just start a mental attack," Brian thought to himself.

In the face of Vizlan's sarcasm, the lich maintained a strange silence as before, without any intention of retorting. This attitude seemed to both acquiesce to Vizlan's words and seem to be dismissive of his words.

Noticing the lich's situation, Brian frowned unconsciously.

For some reason, his keen magical intuition told him that the lich in front of him seemed to have lost the control of its master, so that it could only stand there motionless.

"Could it be that something happened to the Chief Mage in Ancient Orens City?" Brian couldn't help but guess.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but recall the time when he parted with the Chief Wizard, and the look of relief and reassurance that the other party had on his face.

Unfortunately, before Brian had time to think about it, the spell attack that Vizlan had finally condensed rushed towards the motionless lich.

As Vizlan raised his hand, a black arrow of light condensed from pure negative energy was shot towards the lich with trembling hands.

Facing Vizlan's attack, the lich seemed to pay no attention at all.

Brian watched the black arrow shot out from Vizlan's hand. It was like a black lightning, breaking through the wind, and accurately hit the lich's shriveled and gloomy chest.

At this moment, a strange negative energy filled the Mage Tower, and time seemed to stand still. Where the light arrow collided with the lich's chest, a circle of cold light splashed. (End of this chapter)