Warlock Apprentice

Greya decided not to contemplate these matters for the moment and focus on the current match instead.

After standing up, Trom spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, his face appearing to be steamed a bright red by the flames on his chest.

”Demon’s Fire.” Having lived in the Abyss for so long, Trom was all too familiar with the power of demons, and he scrutinized Asaz with his eyes: ”Why are you using Demon’s Fire?”

Asaz replied softly, ”I’ve merely borrowed his power.”

”He? Who are you talking about, a demon from the Abyss?”

Facing Trom’s persistent questioning, Asaz did not answer but lowered his head slightly with an apologetic tone, ”I have a pact with him; I am sorry I cannot divulge any details.”

Since Asaz was unwilling to reveal more, Trom asked no further. Besides, it was not the time for such questions.

Trom looked down at his chest wound, the intense pain causing spasms. He stifled the discomfort and slowly exhaled, ”I had intended to use its power when I challenged him. But now, it seems I must take this seriously.”

”...The power of the Demon also deserves my full attention.”

With those words, bizarre transmutations began to occur in Trom’s limbs. His hands transformed into furry deer hooves, his thighs thickened, and although his calves slimmed down, they became tighter and more powerful, with his feet glistening as they too became hoof-like.

Once his extremities were fully transmuted, a frosty coldness mysteriously began to envelop Trom, swirling around his hands and feet like misty clouds.

At the same time, this chilling frost slowly froze the burning wound on his chest. Unable to heal it in a short time, the only option was to temporarily freeze it and set it aside.

While Trom was transforming, Asaz did not launch an attack on him. This slightly improved Trom’s perception of Asaz, but even if Asaz had attacked at that moment, Trom had ways to respond.

Due to Asaz’s previously ”gentlemanly” behavior, Trom gave a verbal warning before making a move: ”I’m coming for you, be ready.”

Having said that, Trom’s hooved feet stomped fiercely on the ground.

A crisp sound emerged as he exerted force. The ground beneath his feet on the arena seemed to have formed a layer of ice, which Trom shattered with his stomp.

Lile a cannonball, Trom charged at Asaz with a tremendous sonic boom.

It was not until Trom had moved that everyone noticed a huge pit had formed where he had been standing on the arena, filled with broken ice...

Seeing this, everyone’s eyes held a look of horror: It turns out the arena under Trom’s feet wasn’t covered by a layer of ice, it had been directly transformed into ice by Trom!

Previously, Trom had created a pitted hole in the arena with his strength, but this recent episode indicated that even a Water System Apprentice skilled in ice magic would need to manage at least a Third Level Trick to barely accomplish such a feat!

And clearly, Trom hadn’t constructed any Tricks, just a kick with his leg, and the arena turned to ice!

If it wasn’t a Trick, it meant that power came from Trom himself. Since he hadn’t shown this before, it must be the power of his ”half-beast form”.

From which Magical Creature’s Bloodline does this terrifying Power of Ice come?

As the crowd speculated, Trom had already entangled Asaz in combat. Black fire flickered on one side, while on the other, frost mist swirled, accompanied by periodic thunderous roars that seemed like a song of ice and fire intertwined.

As a gourmet Wizard, Asaz typically preferred to maintain distance in combat due to his bloodline’s strength. But after borrowing the power of the Demon, close quarters combat was better suited to unleashing the Demonic Power.

But ultimately, Asaz, who hasn’t systematically learned close-quarters combat, could only barely manage under Trom’s overwhelming onslaught.

Moreover, in the process of coping, Asaz had to be extremely careful. When fending off Trom’s attacks, he had to infuse them with Demonic Power to neutralize the chilling frost. Otherwise, just touching the terrifiing icy aura for a moment, as Asaz did by accident, immediately penetrated his body, causing pain as if Tibial Maggots were gnawing at his bones incessantly.

About three minutes into the fight, Asaz started feeling unable to keep up with Trom’s speed.

The more Trom fought, the stronger and quicker he became. If this continued, Asaz was sure he wouldn’t be able to block all attacks, and once his body froze, the outcome would be unpredictable.

Asaz began trying to extricate himself from this painful deadlock.

Trom naturally noticed this, but he wasn’t about to let Asaz escape so easily. Instead, he moved even faster and used frost mist to form a wall that trapped Asaz with no way out.

Seeing this, Asaz gritted his teeth and called inwardly: ”Sebastian, I need to borrow your strength again.”

Soon after, a distant and faint voice as if from the depths of darkness responded: ”Dear Miloris, of course, as long as the feast you sacrifice is adequate, I will naturally reward you.”

Once Asaz received a response, he felt somewhat relieved. Having Sebastian’s promise, Asaz didn’t hold back anymore. The Demonic Power that was attached within his body was almost instantaneously drawn out in large part.

The Demonic Power formed a black and red orb in his hand.

A terrifying aura immediately permeated the surroundings. Even outside the protective barrier, the spectators felt the power that made them shiver.

Trom, who was closest, felt it most acutely. He looked at the Demonic Power concentrated to the extreme in Asaz’s hand, a flicker of unease in his eyes.

When the black and red orb began to crack, Trom’s unease peaked, and without hesitation, he turned and fled.

In the instant Trom turned around, an intense explosion, combined with the deepest of darkness, instantly enveloped the arena.

Everyone saw Trom seem to be propelled backward by the force, but as for what happened to him, the darkness hid it all, leaving no one able to see.

A hush fell over the spectator stands. Everyone was shocked by this sudden development; the terrifying aura of power still rippled around them, making everyone tightly clamp their mouths shut and even slow down their breathing.

The grand arena at this moment seemed to have frozen in time. In this silence, even the rustling of clothes could be heard.

After an indeterminable time, a piercing voice shattered the silence.

”Could Trom possibly be dead?”

Although it was a question, there was an inexplicable sense of schadenfreude. Everyone turned towards the source of the voice, only to see a snow raven that had taken flight at some unknown time, eyeing the arena with glee; the one speaking... the bird, was none other than it.

Who is this bird? Could it have a grudge against Trom? Otherwise, why would it be so pleased?

Similar doubts surfaced in everyone’s minds, but their curiosity didn’t linger long. Their main focus was still on the arena. Gossip about love and hate could be entertaining, but it could wait until after the competition—they were more concerned with the match at hand.

Yet, the arena was still shrouded in darkness, obscuring any view of the situation.

What exactly happened inside?

How is Trom doing now?