Renith moved in a flash, landing at the exit. Almost at the same moment, two dark figures brushed past her. They didn’t pause for even an instant, leaping straight through the open doorway.
Renith had no intention of pursuing them. Her intuition told her this place was no longer safe.
She’d leave this guy to Barubaron.
Standing before the doorway, Renith planned to relocate the door directly.
Normally, moving it would require two Count-level powerhouses working together.
Even for her, as an Archmage, it would most likely be difficult to carry it away alone. But with the situation urgent, she decided to take the door off its frame first and let it revert to its original state.
Renith wrapped the entire door in magic, then used magic to cut through the surrounding wall.
The instant she began cutting, a thought flashed through her mind like lightning—she suddenly realized there might be a better way.
In Renith’s understanding, her Codex and this door were remarkably similar in terms of rank and function. Both involved cutting into existing space to turn it into their own independent domain.
So theoretically, her Codex should also be able to contain this space—provided she made some necessary adjustments.
Just as she was lost in thought, the sky above suddenly changed.
Three powerful auras appeared out of thin air, pressing down on Renith’s heart like three invisible mountains.
Then a figure descended from the sky, aura surging like a dragon, blasting a massive hole straight through the ceiling above Renith’s head.
Renith looked up and saw three figures suspended quietly in midair.
She recognized one of them immediately—it was “Perseverance” Morist, the one she’d crossed blades with before.
Of the other two, the one in Guardian Armor looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t quite place where she’d seen him. The third was a complete stranger.
Renith’s perception spread out rapidly. She found the surroundings filling up with people—about eighty to a hundred of them were Crossers, while the remaining two hundred or so were local guards and Constitutional Guard members.
“Is all this really necessary just to deal with me?”
Renith’s voice echoed through the air.
She looked at the three in the sky. Three against one—how shameless. But there was no helping it. This was war.
“You’re the famous ‘God-Chosen Killer.’ We wouldn’t dare be careless.”
The one in Guardian Armor in the middle spoke up.
“Besides, who knows where the former-former Guardian is hiding? He’s a Count too—we wouldn’t enjoy taking a hit from him.”
“Since you’ve seen our sincerity and our strength, I’d advise you to surrender early. The less trouble the better. As long as you cooperate, we’ll treat you as an honored guest and let you enjoy endless wealth and glory.”
Renith sneered, ignoring the armored man’s words. Instead, she turned her gaze to the silent figure in the middle—not a Crosser, but an Archmage-level mage.
“You carry the scent of magic. Are you from the Mage Tower?”
The mage didn’t try to hide anything. He spoke slowly:
“I am Charleson, the chief disciple of Prince Leppang.”
“Leppang’s chief disciple…”
A look of reminiscence flickered across Renith’s face.
Leppang was the third-ranked among her eight senior brothers and sisters.
His magical technique was outstanding—he always came up with novel and clever little ideas. Many improvements to fire-attribute magic couldn’t have happened without his contributions.
Back then, Leppang enjoyed the reputation of being the number one fire mage below Magister. His name was thunder in the magical world.
Yet whenever Renith recalled the past, she always remembered some unpleasant experiences too.
Back then, her other brothers and sisters often bullied her, and Leppang always chose to stand by and do nothing—sometimes even siding with the others.
Renith could understand his position. He didn’t want to get involved. Helping was a favor; not helping was his right.
But all of that was in the past now.
Three hundred years had gone by. How many of them could still be alive?
Probably only the strongest—third brother Leppang, seventh sister who loved popping pills, and eighth brother who lodged his soul in a magic item. No one else should have lived to this era.
“Let me see what Leppang’s disciple is made of!”
With that, Renith waved her hand, using earth magic to repair the broken wall beneath the doorway, reconnecting the door’s space. She also casually created a dust mist inside the room to obscure the doorway entrance.
Charleson saw this and tensed up as if facing a great enemy.
“Magic particle manipulation? A Magister?! No… just an Archmage close to Magister level.”
Charleson thought to himself, forcing himself to stay calm. If this person really were a Magister, then even the three of them going all out might not be enough to take her down.
However, according to the intelligence he’d gathered, this Archmage had only fought Morist to a standstill before—which meant her level was still within the Archmage range.
At that thought, Charleson relaxed slightly, but he still didn’t dare be careless.
“Playing tricks!”
Seeing that Charleson and the others weren’t making the first move, Renith stepped on the wind and rose into the air, positioning herself above the three. Her magic power surged out without reservation.
“Codex Page 14, Fire Magic—Cremating Flame!”
As Renith willed it, Philophe in the spatial realm immediately began chanting the magic incantation she had written.
In reality, Renith flipped her hand, and three blazing balls of fire instantly hovered behind her, burning fiercely.
“Condensing fire elements? How laughable—like teaching a fish to swim!”
Charleson began chanting his own fire magic spell, while Morist beside him furrowed his brow. He placed his sword horizontally before him and snorted:
“River Sever!”
The sword light shot forth like a dragon, piercing through all three fireballs in an instant and heading straight for Renith.
The one in Guardian Armor didn’t hesitate either. Wrapping Count-level aura around his fist, he followed closely behind the sword light, also charging straight at Renith.
“Codex Page 105, Water Magic—Entangling Bind!”
The water magic was shattered by the nearby “aura” the moment it was cast, unable to form any effective defense.
With both attacks closing in, Renith couldn’t dodge or block them through conventional means.
Steeling herself, she had no choice but to use holy light magic as an emergency measure.
“Codex Page 851, Holy Light Magic—Pseudo-Divine Art: Holy Sanctuary!”
A blinding holy light instantly enveloped Renith’s body.
Charleson, still chanting his fire magic, paused slightly. He sensed the terrifying fluctuation emanating from this magic. He tried to perceive its essence but found nothing.
What kind of magic was this?
Why didn’t she need to chant?
Charleson couldn’t figure it out, but as long as they captured Renith, all questions would be answered.
Once “Holy Sanctuary” activated, all three attacks were completely blocked, unable to advance even a fraction.
Using the sword aura and that straightforward punch, Renith drifted into the distance, putting some space between herself and the three.
By then, Charleson had finally finished chanting his fire magic:
“In the name of fire, I summon the spirit of burning flame. Light this faint spark, burn away the dust of the heart. ‘Cremating Flame’!”
As his words fell, a massive fireball erupted from his hand, hurtling toward Renith.
The quality of this flame was in no way inferior to the fire Renith had summoned earlier—in fact, his control over fire magic particle dissipation was even better.
“Codex Page 115, Water Magic—Flying Snow!”
Mages draw on natural forces when casting.
For example, standing on high ground with rocks and stones makes earth magic more powerful; standing on soil makes earth magic inexhaustible. Standing near fire or lava makes fire magic more aggressive. Standing in water or a high-moisture environment makes water magic heavier, more resilient, more penetrating. Standing under fierce winds increases the number of wind magic spells and dramatically boosts their destructive power.
Although the current climate was dry and cold, nearly two days of snowfall had provided plenty of moisture to the surrounding environment.
Combined with the dark clouds that still hadn’t dispersed overhead, Renith could easily make the sky rain heavy snow again!
To everyone else, Renith merely raised her hand and pointed at the sky.
That simple gesture caused the dense dark clouds to begin dropping heavy snow.
The snowflakes fell like sharp little blades, drifting down from the sky, able to gradually break through a Count’s surface “aura” defense—let alone a mage’s defense.
“Attack together and finish her! Her water magic is strange!”
Charleson, his skin cut by the snowflakes, finally felt fear.
This person wasn’t just skilled in fire magic—her water magic was even stronger than her fire magic! And from the looks of it, she probably knew earth and wind magic too.
Master of all elements—what kind of monster was this?
Morist’s figure moved first again.
After their last exchange, Renith had developed a fighting style specifically targeting Morist: chaotic fighting.
Not truly random, of course—but deliberately creating openings during battle to lure the opponent into attacking, then seizing the chance to counter.
Since Morist could learn an opponent’s fighting style and adapt, Renith deliberately used chaotic fighting to pollute his “database,” making it impossible for him to accurately judge whether an opening was genuine or bait.
Renith tangled with Morist while widening the distance between herself and the armored man.
That said, Morist’s attacks came down on the water shield Renith created like a violent storm.
Just dealing with his attacks was already exhausting her completely.
The ice shards she occasionally released could temporarily create distance, but they’d be broken in an instant—and then the one in Guardian Armor would catch up.
And in the distance, Charleson was still chanting magic, watching her like a hawk, ready to launch a lethal strike at any moment.
“Crush the golden splendor of the firmament, weave threads of light from the ultimate yang, the flame that never dies. This is ‘Sunflare’!”
As Charleson’s words fell, the crimson flames suddenly took on a faint golden glow, scattering into a cluster of golden rays that shot toward Renith’s brow.
