Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 7: A forbidden spell - 2

The eight mages exchanged glances, their hesitation palpable.

The Stillflame Invocation was not used lightly—it was a spell of immensely dangerous magic rite of the old tongue, capable of reducing everything within its radius to nothing but ash and memory.

”Do it,” Hawkin commanded, already retreating to a safer distance. ”The boy must not leave this place alive.”

The mages formed a tighter circle, their hands moving in perfect synchrony as they began the ancient chant.

The air grew heavy with power, the very fabric of reality warping around them as they called upon forbidden knowledge. The ground beneath their feet began to crystallize, transforming into a strange, glass-like substance that spread outward in concentric rings.

”O ancient flames that burn beyond the veil,” the mages chanted in unison, their voices merging into a single, otherworldly tone, ”we call upon your unquenchable hunger.”

The crystallization accelerated, racing toward Jorghan from all sides.

The sky above darkened further, clouds swirling in an unnatural vortex directly overhead.

This was no ordinary spell—this was magic designed to erase, to unmake, to ensure that nothing remained.

[Danger Detected]

[Bloodline Ability: Carnage Requiem – Partial Activation]

The crimson tattoos on Jorghan’s neck expanded, spreading across his face and down his arms in intricate, pulsing patterns. His small fists clenched, and he let out a roar that shook the very mountains around them—the rage of the Sol’vur lineage, the fury of the Berserk Lords who had come before him, and the cold calculation of a crime lord reborn.

”KILL!!” Jorghan growled, his voice echoing with power.

The mages continued their chant, undeterred by the display of power. ”From beyond the seven realms, through the gate of eternal night, we summon the flame that consumes all light.”

Hawkin watched from a distance, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. ”Your father made the same mistake,” he called out. ”Pride before the fall. The Sol’vur always believed their bloodline made them invincible.”

The crystallization reached Jorghan’s feet, beginning to climb up his legs.

Unlike ordinary ice, this substance didn’t simply freeze—it began to erase, to unmake, the very matter it touched. The boy’s boots disintegrated, and the skin beneath began to shimmer with an ethereal light as it was slowly removed from existence.

Jolthar struggled against the incoming ice. He wasn’t able to absorb the mana like the rest of them. It was different than before. He continuously roared and tried to get himself out of there.

”The flame that was before time”, the mages chanted, their voices reaching a crescendo, ”the fire that will remain after all else has turned to dust!”

The crystallization accelerated, enveloping Jorghan up to his waist now. The boy gritted his teeth, the tattoos on his neck pulsing frantically as his body fought against the unmaking.

[Bloodline Ability: Carnage Requiem – Full Activation Imminent]

[Warning: Host Body Structural Integrity Compromised]

[Initiating Emergency Protocols]

The mages raised their staffs in perfect unison, the final words of the forbidden spell upon their lips. ”STILLFLAME INVOCATION!”

A column of white-hot fire erupted from the centre of their circle, engulfing Jorghan completely. This was no ordinary flame—it burned white and black simultaneously, consuming matter, energy, and even the space between. Everything it touched was not merely destroyed but erased from the fundamental fabric of existence.

The explosion was catastrophic, and it was instant.

The ground beneath the ritual site collapsed inward, forming a perfect crater that expanded outward with terrifying speed. Trees were uprooted and instantly incinerated, their ashes dispersed before they could even settle. The bodies of the fallen Sol’vur warriors that had littered the battlefield were consumed without a trace, erased so completely that not even their souls remained to journey to the ancestral halls.

Hawkin and his remaining forces retreated to the edge of the forest, watching the devastation unfold with a mixture of awe and terror. The Stillflame continued to expand, a perfect sphere of destruction that consumed everything in its path.

”By the gods,” whispered one of Hawkin’s lieutenants, ”I’ve never seen such a scale of attack from a mage before.”

Hawkin’s face remained impassive, though his knuckles had turned white from gripping his sword too tightly.

The Stillflame reached its apex, a blinding flash of anti-light that forced even the hardened warriors to shield their eyes. Then, gradually, it began to contract, pulling back into itself until it collapsed into a single point at the centre of the devastation—then winked out of existence.

Silence fell over the landscape.

Where once stood the proud old grounds of the Sol’vur clan now lay a perfect circular crater nearly half a league across. Nothing remained—no trees, no buildings, no bodies. The very earth had been scooped away, leaving only smooth, glass-like stone that reflected the darkening sky above.

Hawkin stepped forward cautiously, his eyes scanning the devastation. ”Is it done?” he asked the lead mage, who had collapsed to his knees from the exertion of the forbidden spell.

The mage nodded weakly. ”Nothing... nothing could survive the Stillflame. The boy is gone. The Sol’vur bloodline is extinguished.”

Hawkin surveyed the destruction once more, his eyes narrowed. ”Search the perimeter,” he ordered his men. ”I want confirmation.”

His warriors spread out, skirting the edge of the crater with weapons drawn. They moved methodically, professionals trained to leave nothing to chance.

Minutes stretched into an hour as they completed their sweep, returning one by one to report their findings—or lack thereof.

”Nothing, my lord,” reported the captain of his guard.

”No survivors. No traces. The Sol’vur clan is no more.”

Hawkin nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the centre of the crater. ”Then it is done. And not a word of what happened here.

He turned away from the devastation, motioning for his forces to withdraw.

The mages gathered their strength and followed, leaning heavily on their staffs.

The use of the Stillflame Invocation had drained them severely—it would be weeks before they recovered their full power. A small price to pay for the extermination of a boy who was about to become a catastrophe.

They haven’t seen such a powerful child before, and if he was this strong at this age, then given the chance, the boy would have become another lord, just like his father or maybe even more.

No one knows now, as the boy was dead.

As they departed, leaving the glass crater behind, none of them noticed a figure that appeared far in the distance.