Chapter 218: Chapter218-Owen, You’re Cornered!
Rictor had been closely monitoring Rachel’s every move, and when he saw her attempting to return to Owen’s side, he snorted coldly.
A bubble of mana instantly enveloped Rachel, trapping her within it no matter how hard she tried to escape.
A glimmer of despair crossed Rachel’s face.
Rictor’s power was immeasurable, and with just a casual gesture, he had restrained her completely, despite her best efforts.
Whoosh!
At that moment, a gaping, fanged maw lunged toward Rictor, attempting to bite him, with sharp teeth exuding an icy chill like the onset of winter.
Rictor frowned slightly, and a solid earth-colored wall appeared in front of him, blocking the sudden attack from Seraphina.
However, Seraphina’s intervention provided enough distraction for Owen to break through Rictor’s barrier and pull Rachel behind him.
Rictor’s face darkened instantly. “Owen, you broke our agreement!”
As he spoke, thick tendrils of black light surged up from beneath Rachel’s feet, forming snake-like black runes that attempted to bind her and drag her into a teleportation array forming below.
“Everyone here is a witness—I’ve already handed her over. But if she doesn’t want to go with you, there’s nothing I can do about that,” Owen said calmly.
Seeing Rictor’s move, Owen responded swiftly, stomping on the ground, where lightning and flames interwove, shattering the black teleportation array and dispersing the runes around Rachel.
As Owen and Rictor clashed, the crowd of onlookers looked on in shock.
Rictor was the headmaster of Melodic Academy, a figure of unfathomable power.
Few had ever witnessed him in combat, and no one dared to challenge him.
But here was Owen, not only defying Rictor’s agreement but daring to fight him directly—a truly audacious act!
The rumors of Owen being unruly seemed, in hindsight, far too conservative.
Rictor’s expression grew darker as his attacks were countered by Owen. His voice was laced with fury as he threatened,
“Owen, think carefully. If you start a fight here, with just a handful of people, you’re no match for me. Don’t bring about your own humiliation!”
Rictor’s tone was filled with anger. After all, he had been ready to make a fair trade with Owen, not even pressing him for threatening Melodic Academy.
Yet Owen had attacked him, which Rictor found intolerable!
Owen ignored Rictor’s outburst and swiftly sent Rachel back into his personal dimension.
Seeing this, Rictor’s eyes turned bloodshot, ready to strike at Owen, but something caught his attention, and he glanced into the distance.
At the same time, Owen looked in the same direction.
The previously quiet crowd suddenly became restless, and soon after, many of the mages gathered there dropped to one knee.
“All hail His Majesty! May the King be blessed with long life!”
The voices of the mages blended into a unified chorus.
At the sound of this, distant mages trembled and quickly knelt as well.
Amid the bowing crowd, the Pyrothrone King, clad in regal robes, appeared outside the restaurant, glaring coldly at Owen from a distance.
Owen returned the stare, his eyes burning with murderous intent.
This was the man who had been the first to send his prince after Owen upon learning of his Supreme Order technique.
Had Owen not possessed some strength, he would either be rotting in a prison cell by now or dead, his secrets forcibly extracted.
Anyone who dared attack him had to be prepared for retaliation!
Owen’s gaze then shifted to a figure standing behind the king—an aged mage with black markings covering his face, wearing dark robes, his energy depleted.
This man was likely Archbishop Taylor, the one who had previously attacked Leslie.
Owen could sense the intense killing intent emanating from Leslie as she too stared at Taylor.
Owen’s own rage surged to the surface.
But he didn’t act, for with the appearance of the Pyrothrone King and Archbishop Taylor, several other imposing presences suddenly filled the area.
God-tier mages!
The moment Owen sensed these auras, his mind briefly wavered.
These presences were strikingly similar to Otto’s, the Gold Dragon King’s, and the Bone Dragon King’s—undoubtedly god-tier mages.
And there weren’t just one or two of them—there were four!
Like towering walls closing in, their auras sealed off every direction.
The onlookers quickly realized the danger and fled as fast as they could, fearing they’d be caught in the impending clash.
With the Pyrothrone King, Archbishop Taylor, and four god-tier generals all present, this was the kingdom’s strongest lineup.
If a battle broke out, the onlookers knew they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Meanwhile, although Owen was now surrounded on all sides, there was no hint of panic in his expression.
Given that he had brought Leslie to the capital of his own accord, the crowd suspected he had some hidden cards up his sleeve.
This only added to their unease, as if they were trapped in a den of dragons, their safety in jeopardy.
“So, you’re Owen? I must admit, you have quite the nerve. Since you’ve come here today, you’ll stay for good. I’ll carve you open and see just what gave you such courage!”
As Owen surveyed the four god-tier mages encircling him, the Pyrothrone King glared at him coldly, his hatred for Owen unmistakable.
As the king finished speaking, Archbishop Taylor and the four god-tier generals all turned their attention to Owen.
This young mage had an uncommonly large amount of audacity.
They were also curious as to how someone from a remote part of the continent had acquired such talent, not to mention the powerful Supreme Order technique.
The overwhelming pressure of the four god-tier mages locked onto Owen, like the weight of four mountains pressing down, causing the ground to crack and the air to ripple with chaotic mana.
Yet contrary to their expectations, Owen remained calm, surveying the crowd with a slight smile.
“So, you think having more people will win the day?” he said with a hint of amusement.
“Oh? And just what reinforcements could you possibly summon now?” the Pyrothrone King sneered. “The dragon and Fallen Angel races may be powerful, but our cities are well-fortified. It would take them at least seven days to get here. By then, your body will have been fed to the dogs!”
The Pyrothrone King and the god-tier mages laughed derisively, unable to understand Owen’s confidence, thinking him delusional.
“Last time, Leslie managed to scare me off. Do you really think you can pull the same trick again?”
Taylor squinted his eyes, his voice venomous.
Had it not been for his prior carelessness, he would have easily captured Leslie and the others, forcing Owen’s hand.
But now, there would be no more chances—he was determined to capture Owen today.
“Is that so?”
Owen shook his head slightly and then looked up toward the sky.
Just as the Pyrothrone King and Taylor were about to continue speaking, the deafening roars of dragons echoed from the horizon, like the crashing waves of an endless sea, causing the very ground of the capital to tremble.
The sheer power behind the dragon roars made it hard for many mages to breathe, and the mana in their bodies quivered uncontrollably.
“Dragons!”
Hearing the unmistakable sound of dragons, the Pyrothrone King and his companions turned to look, their expressions suddenly changing.
In the sky not far away, a massive horde of dragons, like dark storm clouds, surged toward them, their bloodline pressure so intense that most of the mages couldn’t move.
From another direction, the Fallen Angels were descending with a similar ferocity, their ominous aura like that of ancient beasts, cold and merciless.
As they converged, an invisible killing intent filled the air, giving the Pyrothrone King and his men the distinct sense that they were standing on a battlefield littered with corpses.
The dragons and Fallen Angels had arrived!
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