Miracle? The Wanderers gathered in the forest did not show any reaction to the Whitebud man’s words. Most of them did not even bother listening to what he was saying. Their focus had always been trained on thing, and one thing only. The man in black robe. The target of their mission. And the man responsible for the death of their clansmen. As for the other things that their leaders had discussed… the implication of their words… Those were not things that they could consider. At least not at the moment.
So, even before the Whitebud man could give his orders, some of them had already rushed towards their target. And this time, they were much more cautious. And organised. Instead of attacking the duo all at once, they formed rings of six, attacking them in waves, so that even if their target had more Glyph Tokens, he would not be able to use their attacks against them.
In addition, to exhaust the boy’s means, they even launched several Arcanas and Glyphs from a distance, showering him with Fire Arrows, Wind Blades, Earthen Spikes, and Lightning Strikes. The most common form of the elemental attacks, but also the most cost effective ones. Although the destructive prowess of a single attack was not much for Peak Stage False Wanderers, when faced with dozens of such attacks, even a True Wanderer might have some headache.
Alnea, however, did not panic. Those random attacks could not hurt him in the first place. At worst, they would only block his vision and annoy him a little. But to Zain, they were fatal. And even if the latter somehow survived the ordeal, it was just the first wave of attacks they were facing. There were many more waves waiting for him in the back. Those lunatics were probably not going to stop until they took him down. Or until they all went down.
“…It is time for you to perform, Zain.”
“I have been waiting for a long time,” Zain said, with a grin on his face, glaring at the Wanderers coming towards them. “Let me show them what this useless Arcanist can do!”
Ignoring the attacks coming for him, Zain spread his arms out wide, before bringing them back together, slamming his palms against each other, right in front of his chest.
“White Lord Incantation…”
A pale white light surged from within Zain’s chest. And in just a fraction of a moment, it grew large enough to cover both him, and Alnea, within its shell. A vague, indistinct shell, that seemed to have no beginning or end, but was a shell, nonetheless. That too, one strong enough to withstand all the elemental attacks showering upon them, and push away all the Wanderers rushing towards them, clearing an area with a radius of about five to seven metres. Yet, despite its seemingly invincible defences, the shell was incomplete.
“First Chapter…”
The white light was just the base. A mould, that the Mysteries summoned by Zain shaped according to his will, giving it a more human like form. Just, one much larger than them. Or even the trees around them. Not even the area it had cleared earlier was enough to accommodate its complete figure. And if not for the figure kneeling on the ground, the trees would not even reach its waist. Though even with it kneeling, the trees could only reach its shoulders, making it impossible for anyone to see its face. Not that it needed to show its face.
“Third Verse…”
With how large the figure was, just its body alone was enough to deter any and all enemies around them. Especially since it did not wear any robe, or other loose garments. Instead, it adorned a battle armour, like those of the Warriors in the days long past. Not to mention that it also served as a shield. No attacks could ever get past its translucent body before shattering its shell. Though if someone did dare to raise their weapons against its summoner, then they would first have to face the—
“White Lord’s Fury.”
The moment that Zain finished his words, the giant let out a roar, one loud enough to shake the entire forest. Literally. Be it the fog, the trees, or even the ground, everything quaked with the giant’s roar, trembling under its terror. Some of the Wanderers closer to the giant even collapsed to the ground, with horror written all over their faces. It was like a repeat of the Spatial Storm, just without any Spatial cracks.
Still, as was with the Spatial Storm, the Wanderers who did not give in to their horror quickly regained their bearings and backed away from the giant. Or at least, they tried to. But how could the giant let go of the people who tried to hurt its summoner? So, it struck, slamming its palms down on the heretics, like how one would swat a fly. The only difference between them was that flies could not fight back.
Shields, Arcanas, Martial Styles, and even Glyph Tokens, the Wanderers of the Lotus clan and its allies spared no means to defend themselves from the giant white palm falling on their heads. And for a moment, they even succeeded in staving off their deaths. That was until the giant raised its palms and slammed it down once again. And again. And again. Until those Wanderers ran out of their means, and were squashed into a mix of blood and meat paste.
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“…What in Cretes’ name is that?”
“Like a giant of light…”
“A white giant…”
“…White Lord Incantations?”
“Cretes’ hammer! That is a legacy Arcana of the Enhalls!”
“…Who said that this Arcanist is useless?”
“…We…”
“Mathias!”
“…Just stay away from that giant. It will not last for long.”
“But long enough for them to prepare something similar once again!”
“…We have already talked about this before. There is only so much a couple of False Wanderers can do. Eventually, they will run out of their means. Or their Spirit Power. Regardless, it is only a matter of time before they fall into our hands.”
“If we are still alive by then, that is. As things are going right now, by the time your eventually comes, we will all be dead.”
“Do not be ridiculous, Jean. How long can just a False Wanderer last?”
“Long enough to kill dozens of us. No, we cannot—
“I will double the things I promised you. All of you.”
“This is not about things you promised us, Mathias. We cannot watch our clansmen—
“Do not forget that he is the target of our mission, Onil. We would have fought him regardless of our little deal. So, do not try to make it seem as if all your losses are my fault.”
“But it is your fault that we did not attack him earlier. If only we had cooperated with other clans to deal with him…”
“Five times. No more. That is the highest I will go.”
“…But you are right. He is the target of our mission. It is our responsibility to take him down, regardless of the cost…”
Having reached a consensus once again, the leaders of the alliance quickly regrouped with their Wanderers, and retreated away from the giant, waiting for it to collapse on its own. Which it did in a while, after it could no longer find anyone to unleash its fury on, shattering into shards of white light, before disintegrating into even smaller pieces, drifting and dissipating into the forest, leaving Zain pale faced, and panting with exhaustion.
“…I am sorry, Alnea,” Zain said, trying to catch his breath. “That is all I can do.”
“That is already more than enough,” Alnea said, glancing at the dozen or so bright red spots on the ground around them. “If you took down any more of them, then I would not have had anyone to deal with.”
“…That would not have been your worst idea.”
“…Just shut up and rest, stinky mouth,” Alnea said to Zain, as he glanced at the enemies around them. About sixty. All more than ten metres away from him. Some were even as far as fifty metres away, while the Whitebud man was about thirty metres away, along with the other leaders of their alliance, commanding the other Wanderers around them, sending them to their deaths.
“Be careful,” the Whitebud man said. “Always maintain your formation. And attack from a distance.”
As if that would matter. In the face of Advanced and Peak Stage Mysteries, that too, ones focussed on long range attacks, a difference of five to ten metres would not make much of a difference. Neither would any of their defensive measures. With nearly triple the number of Mysteries at his disposal, he could counter most of their methods, and turn any situation in his favour. Like commanding the fog around him to transform into a wall—a cage, preventing his enemies from escaping.
In retrospect, he should have summoned that cage earlier, when the giant was still there, trapping his enemies within its reach. That should have lowered the number of his enemies by another dozen or so. Maybe even more. But it was not too late. Although he could not summon a giant, he could force similar results through other methods. Like enshrouding everyone in Nightmares, before unleashing a Storm of Darkness. Just a little different from the one Cecilia had unleashed in the Night Canyons.
Instead of gathering the darkness around him first, and then coalescing all of it into a tornado, he began with summoning a small vortex of darkness above his palms, before pushing it towards his enemies, asking it to gather the darkness of the forest on its way, expanding into a true Storm of Darkness. Cecilia’s most destructive large scale Arcana. Especially when used in places with abundant darkness, like the Night Canyons.
Even back when it was just an Intermediate Stage Arcana, the storm’s destructive prowess was enough to threaten Peak Stage False Wanderers. Its only defect was its flashiness. So, when upgrading it, Cecilia made some tweaks to create a lower end version of the Arcana, sacrificing some of its prowess for changing the way it gathered darkness and speeding up its formation. Yet, as an Advanced Stage Arcana, it was still devasting enough to take down half a dozen Peak Stage False Wanderers at once. But only in places with abundant darkness.
Although the Final World, especially the forest around them, was not rich in light, it was not too dark either. At best, it could only be seen as dusky. Still, that duskiness, and the darkness hiding around its edges was enough form a storm large enough to cover over a dozen Wanderers, and send them all flying around the forest. Bound within the confines of the cage of fog, of course. No one could escape Yuri’s Cage of Decay. Not that anyone was trying to escape anyway.
Storm? Nightmare? The Wanderers besieging him and Zain did not care. It did not matter how many of them he injured or killed. They just did not show fear. On the contrary, as time passed, they became even more ferocious than before. It was almost as if they had no fear of death. Or rather, there was something they feared even more than death. Regardless, Alnea understood that it was not going to be easy to make then admit defeat. And he had only a little more than half of his Spirit Power left…

