The shimmering blade of the mana-pressurized hand was less than an inch from Hans's throat. The old butler had already closed his eyes, even in his final moment a final prayer for the Edger house was whispering in his mind.
The mage's face was a mask of cold, professional indifference. To him, this wasn't murder; it was just a cleanup job.
Just when his hand reached close to the butlers throat, something struck the mages hand.
A silver streak, faster than any arrow Elsa had fired, cut through the moonlight. It was a jagged iron dagger, one Eon had scavenged from the warehouse floor earlier. It wasn't thrown with the grace of a master, but with the desperate, bone-breaking strength of a man who refused to let anyone die while he watches.
Slice!
The dagger caught the mage's descending hand right across the palm. The blade struck as the mage's concentration broke. A line of red blood sprayed across Hans's white collar.
The mage stepped back, his eyes wide with genuine irritation. He looked at his hand, where a deep gash now divided his palm. "You... persistent insect," he hissed, his voice losing its smooth, professional edge with rage.
Eon didn't answer. He got up slowly while his eyes were locked on the mage. His hand fumbled at his belt, pulling out two glass vials. One was the familiar crimson of a high-grade healing potion; the other was a swirling, violent purple, an experimental strength enhancer he hadn't fully tested yet.
He downed them both in a single, desperate gulp.
The effect was instantaneous and agonizing. It felt like someone had poured molten lead into his veins. His muscles didn't just grow; they bulged and rippled with a sickening sound, stretching his skin to the point of tearing. The internal bleeding in his side was being forced shut by the rapid healing, but the cost was an intense pain that made his vision swim in red.
"Master Eon! No! Your body can't take that much!" Hans cried out forcing out whimpering sound from his mouth, seeing the black veins bulging on Eon's neck.
Eon ignored the warning. He gulped the whole vial down his mouth. Drinking it all. He felt like his heart was a hammer trying to break out of his ribs. He grabbed a heavy wooden crate nearby, one filled with iron ingots, and hurled it at the mage with enough force to shatter a stone wall. Then he grabbed a broken wheel. Then a handful of cobblestones.
One after another, He started to throw a whirlwind of projectiles, using his over-boosted strength to keep the mage on the defensive.
"Childish!" the mage roared, as he was flicking his injured hand to create a shield of wind that sent the crates and stones flying into the side. "Do you think throwing trash will save you?"
But Eon wasn't trying to kill him with crates. He was creating a distraction.
Elsa saw her moment. With Valen down and Elora unconscious, she was the only one left with the mobility to strike. She dropped her bow, knowing it was useless against the mage's wind shields. She reached into the carriage and pulled out a short, silver-plated sword, a relic of Count Edgers family.
She didn't run; she vanished into a blur of speed.
But before she could strike him with her sword, the mage spun around. "Hah!", his hand shooting out to catch Elsa by the throat just as she reached him. He held her aloft, her feet dangling off the ground. "A White Knight? No... from your mana density, you're right on the edge, aren't you? You are about to become a invisible knight."
Elsa struggled, her hands clawing at his iron-tight grip. Her face was turning a dangerous shade of purple.
"Impressive, an elf white knight" the mage mused, looking into Elsa's struggling emerald eyes. "I've never fought an elven knight of this caliber. They say your kind is naturally stronger than humans at the same tier. I wonder if it's true."
He glanced at the unconscious Verra. "She is a beginner invisible mage, maybe. Quite the catch for a slave ring. But you... you're a nuisance. It's a pity to kill a potential Invisible Knight, but I don't have time for more surprises."
He began to tighten his grip, his other hand moving toward her chest, his fingers flat and vibrating. "I'll make it quick. With a quick stab from my mana-pressurized hand will do the trick."
Suddenly, the mage stopped. His eyes darted around the dock.
"What..What is... this?" he whispered.
The air was starting to feel hot. It felt really heavy at the same time.
The damp, salty smell of the docks was replaced by the dry, metallic scent of a furnace. The puddles of water on the cobblestones began to hiss and bubble, turning into steam that rose around them in thick white clouds.
Eon was standing ten feet away, his hands outstretched. He wasn't throwing stones anymore. He was shaking, his eyes rolled back so far only the whites, now glowing with a faint, terrifying red light, were visible.
He was pulling the very molecules of the air together, compressing them with mana into a single point. His mana was being drained at a suicidal rate.
Mana: 350... 200... 100...
"He's... he's casting without a chant?" The mage's jaw dropped. "That's impossible! Even the Wizards need to say something to cast spells!"
A spark appeared in the air between Eon's palms. It wasn't a spark of fire. It was a pinprick of white-hot light that seemed to eat the darkness around it. In five seconds, it grew into a ball of flame the size of a human head. In ten seconds, it was three feet wide, a churning, roaring sphere of red and yellow plasma that turned the night a lot brighter.
The heat was so intense that the wooden side of the carriage began to char and smoke just from being near it.
The mage was stunned. He had spent his life studying the refined, elegant spells of the Viscount's house. He had never seen anything so raw, so unrefined, and so devastatingly powerful. It was like watching someone hold a piece of the sun.
"You... you'll kill the girl too!" the mage shouted, finally feeling the first touch of real fear.
"Now!" Eon roared loudly at someone behind the mage.
The mage tried to step back, to use his mirage-like vibration to escape the blast zone. But he couldnt move, his feet wouldn't move.
He looked down. The cobblestones beneath his boots had turned into a thick, muddy slurry. Two hands made of solid, packed earth had reached out of the ground and gripped his ankles with the strength of a mountain.
It was Verra. She was awake. She was lying on her side, her eyes bloodshot and her fingers dug into the dirt, channeling the last of her mana into a spell, 'EARTH BIND'. She had timed it perfectly, waiting for the exact moment the mage was distracted by the light.
"EON…do it," Verra spat, blood leaking from her nose.
The mage looked back at the fireball. It was no longer red. It was turning a blinding, brilliant white.
"No... wait….I am from...!"
Eon didn't wait. He didn't let him finish the final words. He thrust his hands forward, the effort tearing the muscles in his chest.
The fireball didn't fly; it surged. It crossed the distance in a heartbeat, a roaring wall of heat that promised to erase everything in its path. Elsa twisted in the mage's grip, trying to pull away as the world turned into fire.
BOOM!
The explosion wasn't just a sound; it was a physical force that knocked Hans and Alen several feet away. The entire dock district shook as a pillar of flame erupted into the sky, visible for miles.
The light was so bright that for a moment, the dock side Slums were the brightest place in the world. Then came the roar of the blast, swallowing the mage's final scream.
Author note: Need some rating guys. Make sure a leave a rating after reading this chapter, ASAP.