Though Gargamel had unleashed a Rank 2 spell, his essence had been hollowed out by the Hades' Sacrificial Rites.
The strike, already weakened by its collision with the crimson defensive barrier, was finally snuffed out completely under the crushing weight of Leylin's Shadow Warp.
The sheer efficiency of the counter sent a jolt of terror through Gargamel. He stumbled back, face ashen. "You... you've actually advanced! You are a Rank 2 Magus!"
Under normal circumstances, an ancient being like Gargamel would have swatted away a newly ascended Rank 2. But between the grogginess of his long slumber and the relentless siphoning of the formation, his power had been gutted.
Even so, seeing a fledgling Magus parry his magic so effortlessly was beyond his worst nightmares.
"Whew..."
Leylin exhaled a long, heavy breath, feeling the final tremors of the transformation settle into his marrow. A sense of divine euphoria washed over him.
"Success and advancement truly are the most potent poisons," he murmured, his voice sounding like grinding silk. "They leave one utterly intoxicated."
Leylin's appearance had shifted into something otherworldly. His hair had transformed into an umbra-phantom black, flowing down his back like a dark waterfall that seemed to bleed into the shadows around him. His eyes were no longer human; they were twin rubies, cold, indifferent, and saturated with an ancient apathy.
(Image)
The A.I. Chip's notifications flickered rapidly across his vision:
[Beep! Detected massive surge in Elemental Essence Conversion. Knight path advancing...]
[Host's rune points have reached Foundation Establishment. Saint Knight rank achieved! Driving host's physical rank advancement!]
[Spiritual Force surge detected. Kemoyin's Pupil advancing to Level 2! Host has successfully advanced to Rank 2 Warlock!]
[Rank 2 Innate Spells generated. Modifying Sea of Consciousness. Recalculating host data...]
The interface refreshed, revealing a staggering jump in power:
[Beep! Leylin Farlier. Rank 2 Warlock (Bloodline: Giant Kemoyin Serpent) / Saint Knight. Summon—Black Horrall Snake, Dragon Crown Nighthawk. Strength: 32.1, Agility: 27.4, Vitality: 36.3, Spiritual Force: 132.3, Magic Power: 132. (Note: Magic Power is now synchronized with Spiritual Force).]
Leylin turned his gaze inward. His Sea of Consciousness had expanded into a vast, shimmering ocean. At its center sat his foundation: a prismatic crimson crystal etched with natural, snake-like runes representing his Rank 1 innate spells.
Now, a second, smaller prism had formed within the heart of the original. This inner crystal was shrouded in a strange black mist and bore runes far more complex and predatory than the first. These were the marks of his Rank 2 power.
Simultaneously, he felt his Life Seed. It was no longer a foreign object tucked inside him; it had fused into his arteries, becoming as much a part of him as a birthmark or a tattoo—etched into his very soul.
The A.I. Chip finalized the analysis of his new lethal tool:
[Innate Spell: Toxic Bile (Rank 2). The mature Giant Kemoyin Serpent possessed toxins capable of corroding the void itself. Effect: Secretes neurotoxins from any pore of the body to initiate a massive Area of Effect (AoE) attack. Consumption: 10 Spiritual Force, 10 Magic Power.]
But the bloodline wasn't his only weapon. Leylin felt a secondary, explosive heat rising from his Knight foundation—a secret technique evolved into a Saint Knight's innate ability.
His eyes locked onto the trembling Gargamel. Coldly, he activated it.
"Rampage!"
The air around Leylin shattered. This was not merely a technique; it was the ultimate evolution of a Grand Knight's secret art, forced into the realm of the supernatural.
Leylin's body underwent a violent metamorphosis. His umbra-black hair ignited into a fierce, dancing crimson. Dark red arteries bulged beneath his skin, appearing like glowing, macabre tattoos that pulsed with the rhythm of his heart. His skin deepened into a void-black hue, and an overbearing, tyrannical energy erupted from him, heavy enough to crack the floor beneath his boots.
"Attack."
With a whisper, Leylin's spiritual force surged. The Black Horrall Snake flickered like a glitch in reality, its phantom form lunging from the shadows to sink its fangs into Gargamel.
In perfect synchronization, Leylin triggered his bloodline. Deep within his gallbladder, the purple-red blood of the Giant Kemoyin Serpent congealed, refining itself into a mysterious, colorless liquid.
With a single thought, the Toxic Bile disseminated through his pores, misting into the air.
There was no flash of light, no pungent odor, and no visible cloud. The Rank 2 innate spell was a silent executioner—an invisible, odorless death that saturated the room, waiting to dissolve the life force of anyone unfortunate enough to breathe it in.
Opposite him, Gargamel stared at Leylin, his expression a turbulent vortex of shifting emotions. First came a flicker of bitter regret—he had underestimated a viper in his own nest.
Then, a cold, paralyzing fear took root, followed instantly by a desperate, murderous resolve. He knew that if this young Magus wasn't snuffed out now, there would be no future for the him.
The Black Horrall Snake materialized from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh. Its single, obsidian horn ignited with a violent, flickering Lightning Blaze, the arcs of electricity hissing like a thousand angry vipers. With a bone-shaking hiss, the summon lunged, jaws agape to tear into Gargamel's throat.
"Pest!" Gargamel roared, his pride flaring. Even in his weakened state, he struck out with a fist wreathed in dark energy. The punch connected with the force of a falling star, shattering the snake's ethereal form into a spray of shadowy mist and sparks.
However, the resulting explosion of smoke and ionized air acted as a perfect shroud. Gargamel's vision was obscured by the acrid soot, failing to realize the sneak attack was merely a feint to grant Leylin the opening he needed.
Leylin surged forward, his silhouette blurring into a phantom. He left a trail of umbra-black afterimages in his wake, moving with a speed that defied the laws of physics. Before Gargamel could even clear the smoke from his lungs, Leylin was a looming presence in his immediate vision.
Leylin pivoted, delivering a swift, brutal kick targeted directly at Gargamel's temple. Instinctively, the Ancient being threw up his forearm to shield his head.
Crunch.
The sound of shattering bone was sickeningly crisp in the quiet chamber. The force of the blow sent Gargamel hurtling backward, his body skipping across the stone floor like a thrown pebble.
"Latent Fireball!"
Enormous spheres of black flame ignited in the air, hanging like dying stars in the gloom. Under the empowerment of his Rank 2 sea of consciousness, the spell was no longer a mere projectile; it was a localized catastrophe. Huge waves of black fire streaked through the room, the heat so intense that the mountain of ancient corpses nearby began to hiss and evaporate into nothingness.
Leylin unleashed the barrage directly into Gargamel's face before he could even regain his footing. The Rank 1 spell, now amplified to terrifying proportions, displayed a devastating strength that warped the very air.
Gargamel rose feebly from the craters of soot, his misty robes tattered and skin charred. He had somehow survived the onslaught, but his victory was hollow; a sickly, purplish-black hue was beginning to vein across his cheeks.
"You... you used a Toxic Spell!" Gargamel's eyes bulged. In his prime, he would have detected the subtle shift in the air instantly, but the years of bondage and the siphoning of the sacrificial rites had dulled his legendary senses.
Desperate to purge the creeping rot, Gargamel spat out a jagged, guttural incantation. From the tattered folds of his sleeves, dozens of bloated Dark Blood Leeches spilled out, their bodies pulsating with an unholy crimson light.
They latched onto his own neck and arms, their needle-like mouths burrowing deep to suck out the poisoned ichor.
As the leeches swelled with purple toxin, Gargamel scrambled backward, creating distance. With a flick of his mangled wrist, he sent a barrage of blood-needles whistling toward Leylin—a long-range suppression intended to keep the Warlock at bay while his grisly parasites worked to stabilize his vitals.
Leylin moved with fluid, serpentine grace, dodging the needles without breaking his stride. He watched Gargamel's pathetic plight with eyes that held no pity.
In his peak, this ancient being could have snuffed out Leylin's life with a single sneeze. But the world of Magi is a cruel meritocracy.
It cares nothing for past glory or future potential; if you are weak in the present, you are merely a stepping stone for the strong.
Leylin's lips curled into a cold smile. Even now, Gargamel was a bonafide Rank 2 Magus; his innate defensive barriers were stubborn, clinging to existence like a dying man's last breath.
"Toxic Bile!"
With a sharp glint in Leylin's ruby eyes, a formless ripple of poison surged forward. This time, the concentration was so high that even the air shimmered and distorted, as if the atmosphere itself were trying to recoil from the toxin.
"Damn it!" Gargamel retreated frantically, as if he were staring down the maw of a world-eating serpent.
Weng! Weng!
The formless ripples smashed into his defensive shields, producing a frantic, sizzling sound of high-grade corrosion. Leylin's gaze sharpened, and the ripples suddenly coalesced, taking the shape of translucent, ethereal hands that reached out to grasp the Magus.
Pak! The barrier groaned, its crystalline structure showing deep signs of decay where the hands touched it.
"Ahhhhhh! Fumed Decapitation!"
Gargamel's voice was torn with agony as he forced the incantation. Violent black tornadoes erupted around him, spinning into a bloom of razor-sharp wind blades that sliced through the air.
Rumble! The transparent hands of poison and the black wind blades collided in a spectacular display of clashing elements. Both attacks neutralized one another, sending a shockwave of stray energy that cracked the ceiling.
Seeing the opening, Leylin didn't hesitate. With a flick of his fingers, the Black Horrall Snake was summoned once more—appearing instantaneously at Gargamel's feet.
The phantom serpent coiled its massive, muscular length around his legs, pinning him to the spot.
Gargamel let out a primal roar of frustration, reaching down with clawed hands to grip the snake's midsection.
"How?!" he screamed, his muscles straining as he tried to rip the summon apart with his bare hands.
"How can you summon Rank 1 creatures with no recovery time?!" To an ancient Magus, the sheer speed of Leylin's casting defied the standard laws of summoning.
As Gargamel struggled with the serpent, a sinister smile played on Leylin's lips. He vanished.
Using his speed, he evaporated from his position and reappeared directly behind Gargamel's exposed back. With a casual wave, he dispersed a cloud of red powder that ignited instantly.
"Scorching Touch!"
Two concentrated lines of white-hot fiery energy lanced out. They streaked through the air with unerring precision, targeting the structural weak points in Gargamel's failing defense.
The energy fluctuations were so immense that Gargamel's face drained of what little blood he had left. "Rank 2 magic?! Impossible! You just broke through... you shouldn't have the mental templates for Rank 2 spells yet!"
Pu! Pu!
The fiery streaks punched through Gargamel's lower abdomen and right shoulder, leaving cauterized, smoking holes in their wake.
"Kemoyin's Scales!"
Leylin's expression turned to stone. Fine, obsidian scales erupted over his skin, shimmering with a metallic luster. He knew Gargamel's defense was finally shattered; there was no longer any need to toy with his prey.
At this moment, Leylin's physical strength was a monstrosity that could make a Rank 3 Magus take notice. Combining his Saint Knight vitality with his Warlock power, every one of his blows carried the kinetic energy of a point-blank Rank 2 spell.
The scales on his body emitted a deep, abyssal glow, with incomplete patterns forming on the surface—a nascent dark elemental rune barrier.
His eyes shifted into amber vertical slits, locking onto Gargamel, who was now coughing up dark, clotted blood as he stumbled back in a futile attempt to escape.