Warlock Apprentice

As the countdown got nearer to its end, more apprentices began to show up around the Altar of Demise. Lawson’s initial estimation about how 90% of all apprentices would die in the garden was disproved when more than 15% of the participants had already reached their goal. But still, as the garden sacrifice was brought ahead of the original schedule, such an outcome was totally expected.

The observing wizards were glad to see so many winners making it to the end. Even though they did not really care about the life and death of apprentices, they still preferred to have the potential human resources of their respective organizations be alive instead of dead.

Lawson was the only one who was aware of the fact that a great number of the survivors had to thank Angor for this.

Such a pity… that Angor boy himself will not have a chance to accept their gratitude.

“Freeze and give us your Meraid’s Sword! Or else—”

“Stop talking and go get him, you fool! Nobody will give you their swords now. Just kill him and his sword is ours!”

Two apprentices, one extremely fat and one skinny, blocked Falca’s way.

Falca simply grinned at the intruders. “Do you even know who I am, brats? Now hear me… ‘Silent Raven’ Taurus is from my family. Are you sure you want a quick death?”

The pair of apprentices exchanged a look before they began to laugh out loud. “Yeah, Mister Taurus, we know him. But what’s that to do with you? Will he actually come in here and save yer a*s? Now prepare to die!”

Falca narrowed his eyes as his body released an intense aura. The apprentice raiders saw a giant crescent moon emerging from behind Falca, which looked extremely bright in the dark night.

Wait… night?? The raiders grew confused. It was noontime a second earlier!

“An effect caused by some Darkness spells.” The fat apprentice canceled his attack and prepared another cantrip in his mind space. “Call of Light!”

It was a level-1 cantrip used for dispelling unusual darkness.

“Darkness? Heh, I’m not one of those sneaky mice who only know how to backstab people,” Falca snickered. His form slowly became transparent under the moonlight, while a group of bats suddenly dived out of the moon he created. They then penetrated his enemies’ bodies like arrows.

Poom, poom!

Two cold corpses dropped into the sea below.

Falca sensed the smell of fresh blood on his returning bats and laughed at the sky maniacally.

“Now THAT’s your punishment for opposing the great Shadow Bat! Hey, wait… I didn’t tell them my title! Sh*t!”

Well, no matter. They’re dead anyway.

After killing these two robbers, Falca also reached where the Altar of Demise was supposed to be located—the City of Demise.

The city was a beautiful capital built by Duons and Dugons using seashells and colorful corals. However, the former glory of the great city had been completely replaced by flames and ruins. Apprentices who still needed Meraid’s Swords all considered the city their final chance of survival. The Dugon and Duons were pretty strong in terms of combat, yet they had no hope when facing countless bloodthirsty bandits who had various cruel tactics to slaughter them. In a matter of hours, the entire city was cleansed of all life.

This was what Falca saw when he came to the city—burning buildings and piles of corpses.

He scoffed at the man-made disaster and headed to the altar.

There was a giant magic array built around the altar. It only allowed those carrying a Meraid’s Sword to enter. There were still many apprentices that gathered outside the array. They sought to intercept sword holders, and since this was about whether they could live on, everyone looked ferocious and desperate like starving beasts.

Falca was surrounded by a dozen such people. He saw a chance and successfully dashed into the magic array using great speed by turning into a bat.

He took a moment to catch his breath as he realized that the final push was actually way more difficult than the previous encounters. Nevertheless, he was glad he made it.

Hah! Perhaps I’m the first one to come here? I’m the champion among them! Well, maybe not, but at least I’m an elite among elites!

With that in mind, he looked ahead only to see countless individuals already waiting.

What the fu—there are at least ten thousand people in here!!

Falca instantly felt his passion snuffed out. What happened to “only one out of ten will survive in the end”?!

He looked back and checked those who were still fighting for their lives outside the barrier. He then felt a little better.

Still in his bat form, Falca flew higher to take a better look at the area.

But he was immediately knocked away by a water arrow and collapsed among a group of people beneath.

He managed to catch a glimpse at who shot him. It was Jebra.

Or rather, it was the giant whale under Jebra that unleashed that water arrow at him.

Jebra was surrounded by vapor, so people couldn’t really see his face. His pet did more than enough to announce Jebra’s presence to everyone. When the animal saw Falca flying annoyingly high, it used a simple water arrow to get rid of him.

How did I get hit by such a slow move?! Falca panicked.

“Fold your wings… Batty. Did you not see the situation? Only the TRUE elites are allowed to stay up there. Stop pretending if you can’t even avoid that water arrow,” someone said to Falca in a child’s voice.

Batty?! Did that a*shole Diablo tell someone else about my stupid moniker??

Furious, Falca lifted his head and saw a boy around the age of ten sitting on top of a white rhino. He was not alone—another fat kid was also sitting on the animal.

“Who the f*ck is ‘Batty’?! I’m Mister ‘Shadow Bat’ Falca to you. And I’m kin of ‘Silent Raven’ Taurus!” Falca bellowed.

“Okay okay, you’re not Batty, so how about… Mister Panda?”

Falca’s getup looked extremely unique even among all the apprentices from different organizations. He had black hair, black eyes with dark circles, and all-black clothes. Everything on him was basically black apart from his exposed skin. His bizarre style was made weirder by a bunch of black cosmetic bandages and decorative spikes.

Putting his clothes aside, everyone who saw him for the first time would believe that he really needed some sleep, especially when they looked at the black skin around his eyes.

If Taurus were here, he would tell them that Falca drew those circles himself using some cheap paint just to appear different from the others.

“Are you deaf?? It’s Falca, Mister Falca!” Out of rage, Falca summoned two blood bats that rushed at the annoying boy.

The boy was startled, but before the bats could reach him, a shield created out of sand appeared out of nowhere and drained the bats into dry corpses.

Falca didn’t even get to mourn his pets when another object made from sand—a giant foot this time—came upon his face.

Wham!

Falca’s body created a perfect arc in the air and crashed somewhere a dozen meters away.

After getting rid of some stars in his vision, Falca opened his eyes and saw the rhino-riding boy coming near him.

“Uh, sorry, I forgot to tell you. My senior is up in the sky. There, that’s him.”

Falca looked up and saw a fierce-looking apprentice gazing at him from afar.

“Hermes?!” Falca quickly recognized that man’s name.

“Oh, so you know my senior?” The boy chuckled. “I’m Loki by the way. Hey, get up and get moving, or all the good spots will be taken.”

Upon learning that the “annoying boy” was the junior apprentice of Hermes, Falca removed his aggressive attitude and sat up.

He checked again and saw a dozen people floating around in the sky.

Jebra was staying in the middle, while the others that scattered around were all powerful individuals in their ranks, and they were as strong as Hermes.

An apprentice from Floating Mech City, Dira, was also in midair, although he stayed as far away from Jebra as possible.

Only a dozen people were granted places in the sky, while the remaining ten thousand apprentices had to stay on the ground.

“But who allowed them?” Falca protested.

“Nobody. They’re there because they can,” an old man standing close enough to them said. “Heh… you’ll see. In this world, those with bigger fists set the rules, while the others follow.”

Following the old man’s words, another apprentice went flying over their heads. Falca looked up and recognized this man as another elite apprentice sent by Edge of Night. This elite apprentice was titled “Eternal Night”.

People who used such showy titles were either hero wannabes or those who were strong enough to deserve them.

Nevertheless, Falca found the title to be pretty embarrassing.

“I know that guy. He’s pretty good…”

Not long after Falca said those words, a woman who was literally walking on flowers in the air waved a hand gently.

People smelled something sweet before “Eternal Night” crashed onto the ground—head first.

“See that? Don’t try your luck if you don’t have the strength for it,” the old man commented while taking out a gray Meraid’s Sword. “Well, the colors of our swords will ultimately decide where we’ll stand. There’s no point competing for a better spot right now.”

“You’re not competing because you’re too weak, right?” Loki pointed out the obvious.

The old man’s eyebrows twitched. He didn’t do anything since Hermes was still looking at them.

“I’ll not waste time with you kids. Time to find a better position.”

The old man walked away.

Falca was still confused about something he just heard.

“Colors? Where we’ll stand? What’s that supposed to mean? And what’s with this ‘better position’?”

Loki glanced at Falca. “Well, use your spirit feelers to check the Meraid’s Sword and you’ll see.”