Dark Magus Returns - Chapter 1560: A New Style (Part 2)
Chapter 1560: A New Style (Part 2)
Among the chaos of battle, Yellum’s gaze fixed on one particular fighter, Alen.
At first, she didn’t recognize him. His movements were too fast, his fighting style too unorthodox for any mage she knew. But as he turned, the glow of his gloves caught her eye, and it finally clicked.
She remembered that face.
Alen had appeared once or twice in the public sphere, not as some celebrity or political figure, but as a decorated military mage. He’d stood on podiums during major academy events, sometimes acting as a spokesperson, other times demonstrating advanced spellwork.
That was where she’d seen him before. And now he was here, in the middle of their secret operation.
’He’s with the military,’ she realized, her eyes narrowing. ’But why? Why are they here? Is this some rogue division acting on their own? Or… have the Grand Magus turned on each other?’
The possibilities raced through her mind, each one worse than the last. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Alen’s power was becoming a problem. One of her guildmates, an elite among elites, was barely holding his ground against him.
If this continued, they could actually lose one of their own.
Yellum clenched her jaw. She never thought she’d see such a day, but this wasn’t a matter of weakness. It was a testament to Alen’s raw talent.
She turned toward the blond-haired warrior beside her. “Tonto,” she said sharply. “Go after the fire mage with the gloves. You have to stop him, now.”
Tonto looked over his shoulder. He was already growing bored, dispatching the lesser mages in front of him with casual cruelty. A spike of ice pierced straight through one soldier’s chest, dropping him instantly.
“Finally,” he muttered, stretching his neck. “Something interesting.”
Leaving the others to finish off what was left, Tonto dashed toward Alen’s position. Golden energy flared around his body as he swung an arm to block a stream of fire that had been aimed at his teammate.
When the flames dispersed, he looked up, and smiled.
“Man, you’ve got some pretty strong attacks,” Tonto said, his tone almost playful. “No wonder my friend was struggling. And that fighting style of yours… it’s really interesting.”
A burst of flame erupted from Alen’s hand and skimmed past Tonto’s cheek, burning a strip of skin. The wound sealed seconds later, the skin regenerating under a faint golden glow. His grin didn’t fade.
“I see,” Tonto said. “You’re kind of rude, aren’t you? Guess I’ll have to beat some manners into you.”
Behind him, the injured Cerebus mage backed off, moving to rejoin the larger fight. Tonto stepped forward, cracking his knuckles, his wings of light spreading faintly behind him.
Alen didn’t flinch. Whoever this man was didn’t matter. If they wanted to survive this battle, he needed to take down Tonto and Yellum, no matter the cost.
He began his assault immediately.
Flames burst from his hands in rapid succession, each one smaller than a standard fireball but faster, sharper, and harder to predict. They came from every direction, left, right, above, and below, forcing his opponent to react constantly.
Tonto responded with a mix of earth and water magic. He raised slabs of stone to shield himself, then conjured pools of liquid midair that absorbed and redirected the incoming fire. The attacks clashed one after another, lighting the field with bursts of orange and blue.
Some of Alen’s flames broke through, striking Tonto directly across the chest and shoulder. The blows landed, but Tonto didn’t even flinch. His eyes never left Alen. He didn’t blink, didn’t stagger.
The burns on his skin sizzled for only a second before fading completely.
’What is with this guy?’ Alen thought, his brow furrowing. ’He doesn’t react to pain at all. Maybe he can’t anymore… maybe after everything they’ve done to themselves, they’ve lost the ability to feel anything.’
The thought sickened him. It wasn’t just the Grand Magus manipulating people now, it was the entire chain of power beneath them.
He fired another burst of flames, faster this time. The blaze streaked across the battlefield, but before it could strike, Tonto raised his hand. Golden energy coated his arm, and with a single motion, he sliced straight through the fire.
The flames scattered apart and vanished into embers.
“I think,” Tonto said, his grin widening, “I’ve got the hang of it now.”
Golden energy flared brighter around both his arms. Then, without warning, he swung them forward.
Thin arcs of golden light shot out with terrifying speed, flickering like lightning as they sliced through the air toward Alen.
Alen reacted instantly. He ducked under the first blast, then twisted to the side, using bursts of fire beneath his feet to propel himself away. The next attack grazed his shoulder, tearing his sleeve apart.
Tonto kept swinging, sending a rain of golden energy toward him, each one faster, sharper, and heavier than the last.
Alen’s body moved on instinct. He dodged, rolled, and redirected his momentum with bursts of flame. He could feel the heat building on his skin, the pressure in the air growing thicker.
Then, one of the blasts hit.
It wasn’t a direct strike, he managed to weaken it with a quick burst of fire, but the force still sent him spinning backward. He hit the ground hard, nearly losing balance.
Before he could crash, Alen planted both palms behind him and blasted a jet of fire downward. The explosion propelled him upright again, sliding him back into a fighting stance.
Smoke curled off his burned glove. He exhaled, his eyes narrowing.
And then he realized it, the strange feeling that had been nagging at him since Tonto’s last few moves.
The rhythm of his attacks. The sudden change in movement. The way Tonto was fighting now wasn’t random.
It was his style.
The one Alen had worked so hard to perfect, the close-range, rapid-casting technique inspired by Pagna’s warriors.
Tonto had mimicked it. Instantly.
’The style I spent years developing,’ Alen thought, his eyes burning with disbelief. ’The one I trained for day and night… he copied it just like that?’
Tonto raised his hand again, that same predatory grin returning.
“Come on,” he said. “Show me more. I want to see how far this little dance of yours goes.”
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