Chapter 276: It Can’t End Like This

Under Shaoke's precise control, the javelin swiftly evaded the enemy's Wind Blade and struck the Middle-aged Mage, who was performing Mobile Spellcasting. The Sixth Rank defensive spell was completely useless against the special Spell of the Death Mage Corps; the defense shattered, and the javelin pierced through his heart, rapidly igniting.

After killing that mage, Shaoke continued his assault, as the other mages and warriors had also begun their attacks. He quickly chanted several ancient magical syllables and altered some hand gestures, causing the three spears to burst apart. With a substantial infusion of mana and spiritual power, they rapidly formed dozens of Green Flames, which swiftly entangled the mages and warriors who had been too slow to dodge because they were busy casting spells, burning through their defensive spells and Aura.

Facing the mage who tore open a scroll, Shaoke made no attempt to dodge, as the White-robed Cleric was behind him. Even so, the golden Wind Blade only created a ripple before exploding against his defensive spell before dissipating, merely pushing him back a step.

The remaining warriors did not cease their attacks despite the mage slaughtering their allies; perhaps they were accustomed to swarming and seeing lone mages helpless against them. But these habits vanished entirely under Shaoke's assault. A pale blue mist was instantly released by Shaoke. Mist of Dreams—this spiritual spell caused the warriors caught within to writhe on the ground, clutching their heads, their pitiful wails giving Shaoke a hint of the thrill of battle. Of course, this conflict was far less brutal and frenzied than a real war, only somewhat reminiscent.

Glancing at the other warriors still frozen in place, Shaoke, now getting worked up, chanted briefly and unleashed the Fourth-level Spell Cutting Wave twice in quick succession. Black ripples tens of meters wide spread along both sides of the street, cleaving many Low-order Warriors gathered there into two. Those who did not die immediately struggled and screamed on the ground, pleading for help from their comrades.

"Mage Xueye," the Cleric finally stepped in to stop Shaoke. "I think there is no need to punish them further; they are merely Low-order Warriors following orders." She looked at the warriors writhing in agony on the ground. Not long ago, these same warriors had often mocked her and even physically teased her, but now they were in this state. She found it hard to accept.

"Earlier, you didn't stop me from handling even bloodier scenes, and now you want to stop me for those who intended to punish you?" Shaoke turned abruptly to face the White-robed Cleric, his eyes bloodshot, the purple six-pointed star magic array emerging in his irises and slowly rotating, revealing the turmoil within the Spellcaster.

As the mages conversed, the remaining Low-order Warriors fled the street in panic, unaccustomed to the night's events. They had never encountered such a crazed mage, to whom life meant nothing—a misunderstanding stemming from their ignorance of Shaoke's past.

Shaoke and the White-robed Cleric stood near the entrance to the Cleric's estate, neither speaking. Shaoke dispelled his defensive spells, while the White-robed Cleric stared blankly at the burning corpses and the dying, who were still struggling. She did not know how to face the future.

A large group of people rapidly approached, drawing Shaoke's attention. The crowd soon arrived from the end of the street, led by a Young Mage, followed by a Female Mage in golden robes, the White-robed Cleric's companion. Behind them were several Low-rank Mages and some warriors, but through his vague perception, Shaoke detected two Infiltrators hidden in the shadows beside the Young Mage. However, their low ranks rendered them unable to evade his spiritual detection.

"Esteemed mage, is this carnage your doing?" The Young Mage surveyed the street briefly, then fixed his gaze on Shaoke. He was slightly surprised by the protective spell on the White-robed Cleric. "This has greatly affected our work. I hope you can explain why this happened."

The mage's words elicited no response from Shaoke, who now had no inclination to speak with Low-rank Mages, deeply influenced by the impressions of Ancient Spellcasters and Primeval Spellcasters.

Shaoke's silence did not mean the White-robed Cleric remained quiet. She bowed to the Young Mage and quickly recounted the night's events. After listening, the Young Mage waved for her to stop, then said, "Come to my place. I can guarantee your safety there." He glanced at the Golden-robed Mage. "Your sister has already agreed. I think you would be safer there." He then turned back to Shaoke, frowning silently.

The White-robed Cleric looked at the Golden-robed Mage, then at the Young Mage and his entourage, and finally at Shaoke. "No, I only came to retrieve some belongings. I plan to stay with my friend from now on." She bowed apologetically to the Young Mage, who merely waved dismissively, indicating understanding.

The Golden-robed Mage seemed about to speak, but the Young Mage grasped her hand to stop her. "Everyone has the right to make their own choices; we cannot change them." He sighed softly, then said to the White-robed Cleric, "If you need anything, you can come to us at any time. I will provide you with sufficient protection." He glanced at the dead bodies on the ground, his expression grim as he stood there, lost in thought.

Hearing the White-robed Cleric's words, Shaoke felt a flash of joy. Ignoring the Young Mage and the others, he followed the White-robed Cleric into her estate. Seeing her pale face, he couldn't help but murmur, "I can protect you. In my place, no one would dare disrespect you. And you didn't need to bow to that mage. He's only a Fourth Tier Mage." He felt uncomfortable seeing her like this; she had changed so much.

"But his family has some influence here. If not for their help, we might have left this world long ago," the White-robed Cleric sighed softly. She didn't want to explain further, feeling uneasy. Her former sister had accepted another man—not passively, but actively—which pained her deeply. She hadn't expected the other woman to decide to move in with that mage.

The White-robed Cleric's belongings were simple: a few scattered ordinary books and a modest amount of magic materials. Looking at the pile, she turned her pleading gaze to Shaoke, as her magic bag had been stolen by High-rank Mages years ago.

Shaoke felt a deep sorrow at her situation. Finally, he took out a magic bag and handed it to her, then personally placed the ordinary items inside. "Things will get much better for us. Those who once bullied you will surely face their retribution." After placing the last stack of papers into the bag, he spoke these words. But the White-robed Cleric only forced a faint smile, doubting his ability, as the situation here was far too complex. She felt that even the former Blizzard Legion couldn't handle the fallen imperial capital. However, she had mentioned this to Shaoke earlier that day, so she didn't want to repeat it.

Everything packed, the White-robed Cleric sighed softly, and they left the estate.

"Mage Xueye, I think you should stay here for the night. Under our protection, the mercenary group you just killed won't be able to harm you," the Young Mage urged as Shaoke appeared. But Shaoke felt only disgust, not gratitude, because the mage hadn't bowed to him. If not for the White-robed Cleric, who knew his temper and quickly restrained him, things might have gone differently.

With the White-robed Cleric's intervention, Shaoke managed to suppress his anger and turned to head back the way they came. He ignored whatever else the Young Mage said, offering no response. This behavior greatly displeased the Young Mage, but soothed by the words of the Golden-robed Mage, he abandoned the idea of arguing with Shaoke, instead holding the Golden-robed Mage's hand firmly, smiling as he enjoyed her comfort.

Perhaps due to Shaoke's earlier slaughter, the street saw far fewer skirmishes. By the time the White-robed Cleric followed Shaoke to his residence, they had only slain two groups of Low-order Warriors fighting each other and a few Infiltrators trailing them, and not a single person was killed afterward.