A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 227 A Dying Struggle

Granor did not reply, but stared intently at the "Lord" Christian sitting opposite him.

At the same time, his senses extended as far as they could, successfully breaking through the confinement of the carriage space. However, the only feedback Granor received from the world outside the carriage was nothingness.

The chief of the Thunderstorm Tower continued speaking to himself: "With the flood raging, some people wisely moved to higher ground, some wanted to manage the river channels to prevent it from overflowing, and some believed that it was better to dredge than to block, and to guide the river water to other places."

"Members of our fraternity should do the work of 'craftsmen,' exploring hydrology, designing and building 'riverbanks,' guiding the water in the direction we hope for."

"And you, Count Granor, insist on rowing against the current on this great river, even deluding yourself into thinking you can gain fame and fortune from its turbulent flow. Why do such an irrational thing?"

Granor remained stiffly seated: "I don't understand what you're saying. Countless mages throughout history have been granted titles and become nobles. I haven't done anything wrong."

"If it were Kano himself who made the same choice as you, I would not interfere, but you are the president of the Valuwa General Association and have not set a good example for the brothers in the association."

"As the esteemed leader of the inner circle, I have no choice but to take the time to meet with you before attending the 'Distinguished Meeting' to purge the internal factors that threaten the foundation of the Brotherhood."

Granor withdrew his senses, focusing his energy on the enemy before him: "Do you know how many spells I used at the Magic Guild today? Excluding the one that failed against Varen, the answer is zero."

"In the hall, I could accept my defeat because Master Cano was still playing by the rules I set, except that his methods of requiring attendees to be present were somewhat crude."

Looking back, Granor realized that he had lost his composure at the end, actually wanting to kill Varon, an ordinary person who couldn't use magic, in front of everyone.

Christian listened with great interest to the loser's post-mortem analysis.

The Count continued in a calm tone, "Therefore, from beginning to end, Master Cano and I have not engaged in any magical combat. Of course, I must admit that his skill is slightly superior to mine. But Lord Christian, are you truly prepared for a duel by making such a blatant and direct threat to an archmage?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Granor and Christian attacked simultaneously: a tentative bolt of lightning shot towards Granor, but the target's figure collapsed into white mist, which exploded and filled the entire carriage.

"Trying to block your view?" However, Christian was quickly burned by the white mist that rushed towards him. "Burning Clouds!" It looked like just water vapor, but the temperature was far beyond the usual 100 degrees Celsius. The extremely hot fluid was instantly everywhere in this small space, and the wooden parts of the carriage made cracking and bending noises.

Christian quickly cast a spell to protect himself from the extreme heat while activating a healing scroll to heal his injuries.

Suddenly, a hand-like shape materialized in the superheated steam and reached out towards Christian's neck, fiercely resisting the protective layer formed by magic, emitting a piercing shriek, and seemingly about to break through the chief's defenses of the Thunderstorm Tower.

However, this was just a feint. Granor reappeared in the white mist, now wielding a black scimitar in his left hand as he slashed at the enemy.

Sharp, cleaving, filthy, cursed. This ominous blade seems to be composed of nothing but concepts; it cannot be forged, cannot be wielded normally, and can only be created by magic.

The carriage had already entered the eerie space when an intangible blade traced a path, disrupting the execution site Christian had prepared for the Count. The out-of-control luxury carriage burst out of the streaks of light and returned to the real world, the crazed horses carrying it headed straight for the Seine River.

The black, blade-like winds reached the ground, carving deep trenches several feet into the stone road. Burning clouds leaking from the wrecked carriages swept across the street.

Christian easily blocked the black blade with his newly stacked defensive spells, then frowned: "Is this your purpose?" The original space could prevent Granor from escaping using teleportation spells, but when they returned to the material world, the barrier naturally failed.

Once the isolation completely fails, Granor's pre-set escape teleportation will take him away from the battlefield.

Christian snorted coldly, and a "wall" of countless interlocking gears appeared out of thin air before the carriage fell into the water. As they spun wildly, the carriage seemed to shrink countless times. The whole process took only a moment, and then it disappeared into the river, leaving behind the unrecognizable corpses of the coachman and the two horses, which plunged into the water and stirred up huge waves.

Granor made a mistake; he tried to harm Christian while escaping, and at the same moment he activated the teleportation, he distracted himself by unleashing an explosion of light and heat in an attempt to eliminate any future threat.

"You've made a misjudgment once again because of greed." Christian let the injury pierce him, once again isolating the two of them from the real world. His barrier and clothes are now riddled with holes, and beneath his broken skin are endless, flashing thunderclouds.

However, after the carriage returned to the void, the white mist suddenly changed from scorching hot to extremely cold, and even thought would freeze in this deep cold.

Granor's figure vanished again, but his voice returned. Tiny water droplets within the white mist had condensed into tiny ice crystals, trembling and emitting the count's furious roar in unison:

"Christian! Your Excellency! Are you really going to make things irreversible? Think about it, if I walk out of this building and never come back, what will people think of Kano, what will they think of the Magic Guild! You're just making things worse for him!"

Christian immediately abandoned his defenses, letting the cold air and the rapidly moving ice blades assault him. However, his entire body began to burst with silver light, revealing a cruel smile: "You seem to have misunderstood something. I don't care what happens to Lionel."

A silver light pierced through the white mist.

boom!

A five-story-high column of water erupted, startling the last horse-drawn carriage of the night. Some fish were even thrown high into the air and fell lifelessly onto the shore.

Splash splash splash

The moonlight rippled the water once more, and a man walked from the current to the shore. He stood on the stone steps, shaking off the ice crystals and water droplets. But that wasn't enough; a mist rose from the man, completely drying him off.

Having done all this, the neatly dressed Christian put on his hat and left the banks of the Seine.

Meanwhile, François returned home dejectedly.

The countess, who was in the dining room with her daughter, immediately stood up when she heard the servant open the door, only to find that her son had returned alone.

"Where is your father? Did he go to the victory celebration?"

"No, Mother, although I don't know the details, Father must have failed." François shook his head, thinking of the strange man: "On our way back, a guest found Father; he must have been a great sorcerer as well."

The Countess's face turned deathly pale. She walked up to her son and slapped him hard across the face: "Why did you come back alone?!"

Kirvis, not understanding why her mother was hitting her brother, cried out in alarm, "Mom!"

Then, the large, dazzling gemstones on the lady's necklace began to sparkle. She hurried to the open space in the living room, and as François and her sister followed, they heard their mother shout, "Make way! Make room!"

However, after the gemstone shone brightly, the count did not return to his mansion, and the gemstone eventually lost its luster and shattered.

"No!" A desperate scream echoed in the living room. The Countess lost all her strength and collapsed into the arms of her eldest son, François.

(End of this chapter)