Chapter 161 Golden Characters and Resolution

Shaoke withdrew the mental energy locked onto that mage and quickly scanned the surroundings. The result was highly unexpected—no other mages appeared near their battlefield. This led Shaoke to suspect the spell might be a unique technique from the enemy nation. Thinking this, he pulled out a precious protective scroll, tore it open, and cast it on himself. At that moment, he no longer cared that the scroll’s value could have paid for a night with a Third- or Fourth-Rank female mage.

A pale gray light enveloped him once more. Once the silver light had calmed the turbulence in his meditation space, Shaoke prepared another spell: *Dark Decay*. Though its penetrating power fell short of *Lava Ray*’s and it lacked versatility, its spell signature was the faintest among the military’s Third-Rank spells—capable of easily piercing Third-Rank defenses and even some Fourth-Rank defensive spells. Its flight speed, however, was sluggish. Yet in this situation, Shaoke decisively chose it to strike the black-robed mage, who was still frantically extinguishing flames clinging to his body.

After casting *Dark Decay*, Shaoke worried it might not suffice. He immediately drew another offensive scroll. Dozens of red spears burst free from the scroll’s bindings and shot forward toward the mage.

Though the black-robed mage also activated a protective scroll, he failed to evade Shaoke’s rapid assault in time. Four or five spears struck his defensive barrier, effortlessly tearing through its outermost layer. Then, thick clusters of green flame rapidly adhered to the inner defensive layer, resuming their corrosive work.

Several strange syllables erupted from the mouth of the mage who had attacked Shaoke. As he chanted, golden characters flew from his lips and whirled above him. Under his control, they smoothly coalesced into an arcane formation, then swiftly surged toward Shaoke. Along the way, obstructing trees shattered effortlessly beneath the golden characters—but the characters themselves remained unscathed as they advanced.

By now, most of the green flames clinging to the black-robed mage’s defensive barrier had been extinguished by the serpentine black flame. Just as the mage produced another crystal charged with a defensive spell—intending to crush it—Shaoke’s *Dark Decay* struck him unnoticed. Two layers of Third-Rank defensive spells were pierced with ease. Under the mage’s horrified gaze, the dark-yellow spell tore through his robe and vanished into his chest.

The golden characters, now masterless, danced chaotically in midair before finally landing nearby Shaoke and slowly sinking into the earth.

The mage slain by Shaoke lay motionless, allowing the green flames to consume his body, while the uncontrolled black flames gradually dissipated into the air.

Shaoke sighed in relief, forcibly suppressing the throbbing pain in his head, and rushed toward the fallen mage. He had to collect the spoils and leave immediately.

He swiftly closed the thousand-meter gap. The unprotected corpse had been reduced by the green flames to gleaming white bones and a tattered robe; all flesh and blood had served as fuel for the flames.

Without hesitation, Shaoke snatched the pouch from the mage’s waist, hastily swallowed some high-grade recovery medicine, and fled into the distance. He ignored the sharp sting of the pouch in his palm—yet as the pain persisted, he wrapped the spoils in his cloak and vanished into the dense forest.

After fleeing a safe distance, Shaoke halted. After briefly scanning the surroundings, he began dismantling the pale-blue spears still assaulting his meditation space. All his remaining mental energy and magical power surged outward, forming fine threads to unravel the spell structure of those blue spears.

Fortunately, after prolonged assault, the spears’ energy had largely dissipated, making their dispelling relatively easy. Once completed, Shaoke could no longer hold on—he collapsed heavily to the ground, gasping for breath.

Although the battle had lasted only a short time, casting multiple high-power spells—combined with resisting and dispelling mental attacks—had utterly drained him. Continuous use of the silver light had also consumed enormous reserves.

After a brief rest, Shaoke forced himself to continue moving despite exhaustion. He needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and the battlefield before meditating to recover. He dared not risk being hunted down and killed by other mages while vulnerable in meditation.

A dense thicket of low shrubs appeared ahead. Spotting it, he set up alert wards beneath several nearby large trees, then crawled into the shrubs to begin recovering from his depletion.

Returning to his meditation space, Shaoke found the situation dire. Though his mental space remained intact, fine cracks had appeared along the inner walls of his magical power space—clearly inflicted by the opponent’s mental energy attack. His dwindling magical power continuously flowed toward the fissures, repairing the damage. Meanwhile, the silver light coiling around the Three-Pointed Star Magic Array flared repeatedly, cooperating with his magical power to mend those delicate cracks.

Seeing this, Shaoke felt a quiet sense of fortune. He realized that if his opponent had specialized in mental energy attacks, his newly promoted meditation space—still insufficiently solid—would not have withstood sustained assault. Had it shattered, he would have lost all capacity to cast spells and inevitably been hunted down, stripped of everything.

First, Shaoke relied on meditation to restore his nearly exhausted energy, then slightly replenished both magical power and mental energy before launching another round of energy-recovery meditation. After all, the silver light’s ongoing repair of the cracks would continuously drain his reserves.

After an indeterminate length of time, Shaoke broke from meditation, re-scanned the surroundings, and resumed energy-recovery meditation. To his dismay, even aided by the silver light, the cracks in his magical power space remained unrepaired. In his estimation, after such prolonged effort, the fissures had only narrowed marginally—and he judged that another mental attack would certainly shatter his magical power space.

The sky darkened. Prolonged meditation left his body deeply uncomfortable. Repeated cycles of energy expenditure and replenishment induced profound exhaustion—a fatigue no simple meditation could alleviate. Only extended sleep could restore him somewhat. Of course, pushing further wouldn’t be fatal—but it would inflict bodily harm.

After sipping some wine, Shaoke took a small piece of meat and ate it. The howling cold wind made the night even harsher, forcing him to tighten his cloak and wrap the animal skin tightly around himself against the biting cold.

Propped up by the shrubs, Shaoke scanned the surroundings once more before leaning back and falling asleep. Naturally, this slumber lasted less than a magic hour before he awoke to resume meditation. Though his mental energy and magical power had recovered, the persistent cracks in his magical power space reminded him danger had not passed. According to records in those texts, when meditation-space cracks appear due to enemy attacks, one must avoid spellcasting—especially spells demanding large magical output—as sudden surges would place undue stress on the compromised space.

The night passed in alternating meditation and brief sleep. As dawn faintly lightened the sky, Shaoke ceased his repair efforts. After all, even with the silver light’s aid, the cracks couldn’t heal fully in so short a time.

The red dots on the magical item representing Blue Feather Empire mages had receded further—but the dot marking the mage near Shaoke remained, steadily glowing. This brought him slight relief. If all went well, they would meet in just over three more days.

In the following days, Shaoke noticeably slowed his pace—and the other mage did likewise. This led Shaoke to suspect the other might also be injured, preventing him from maintaining his earlier speed.

Along the way, aside from encountering a few low-rank magical beasts, no people or creatures posed any threat to Shaoke—much to his relief, given his current condition, which rendered him utterly unsuited for prolonged combat.

Shaoke refrained from opening the slain mage’s pouch to inspect its contents—not because he lacked curiosity, but because it bore defensive magical arrays beyond his current ability to decipher or deactivate. As for brute-force破解, he never considered it. Items safeguarded by such arrays would be destroyed alongside them if improperly opened—ensuring enemies gained nothing.

When Shaoke next checked the red dots on the magical array, he found the other mage’s dot had already converged with his own. Drawing on recent experience, he quickly deduced the distance between them was now less than half a day’s journey.

With that thought, Shaoke quickened his pace and advanced toward the mage’s location.

His mental energy continuously probed ahead. When the red dots on the magical item overlapped, he traveled less than a magic hour more. He knew the distance between them was shrinking—steadily, inevitably.