The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 41

The hefty chains fell to the ground with a resounding crash, snapping the onlookers back to reality.

A hush fell over the crowd, and even the warriors sparring on the training grounds paused, their attention drawn to the scene. Could it be that he was swinging the three-hundred-pound chains around as if they were but ropes of hemp? Was that burst of strength truly enough to repel someone at Stage V of Novice Mage?

Incredible!

"Bold move! That madman's getting fiercer by the day."

"Same as ever, that iron will shine through. Bending isn't in his nature."

"I do wonder, how has he stayed alive with such stubbornness? Anyone else would have met their end a dozen times over."

"Has he not suffered beatings? So often has he been left bloodied, yet his hard luck has kept him alive, never once broken."

"He was born a servant, yet he's carved out the life of a lord. Quite the talent."

"He's always had the bearing of a lord. That's just his spirit! Such a pity, if he weren't condemned, he might have been an Elite Protégé."

"No Elder would take him; he harbors resentment towards Cobalt Strike."

"If you ask me, the lad's a threat. Heaven help us if he ever turns the tables, it'll be chaos."

The surrounding Protégés were used to such sights, having witnessed Alavin's life-or-death brawls with the freshmen. Now, as a Novice Mage, he was taking on the seniors. It was expected, but the

ferocity of his approach hadn't changed one bit.

Alavin paid no mind to the murmurings and dragged the chains into the arena, lifting a stone urn and departing from the scene.

The Protégés, both on the grounds and off, turned their focus away, treating the event as a mere spectacle, and continued their training.

Just then, Alavin noticed a handsome young man approaching from the other side of the arena. "Ah, he's come."

Others took notice as well.

"Look, it's Galos! Galos has ended his seclusion!"

"Ah, Galos, my love!"

"It is indeed Galos, emerging after three months of seclusion. Could he have ascended to the seventh rank of Novice Mage?"

"A fifteen-year-old at the seventh rank of Novice Mage, such talent is enviable, jealousy-inducing even."

The newcomer became the center of attention, with squealing maidens and an excited buzz from all around. The atmosphere in the arena grew electric.

Alavin set down his urn and also looked on.

There stood a strikingly handsome youth, his mischievous smile rippling through his thick brows, always seeming to carry a hint of laughter. His skin was set off by rosy lips, sharp features, and a perfect jawline. His smile revealed a pair of fangs that added a touch of roguish charm.

Galos, known as the Thunderbird!

One of Cobalt Strike's Elite Protégés, chosen by the Grand Elder at the age of ten for his prodigious talents, he stood at the forefront of his generation.

His magical essence was akin to Alavin's, both wielders of lightning. The combat magic he studied, 'Thundervein Valor,' personally selected by the Grand Elder, was a formidable spell even among the Tier-2 Novice Combat Magic.

"Greetings, fellow Protégés, it's been a while," Galos said, charmingly addressing the crowd. His smile deepened especially for the girls.

"Have you reached Stage VII of Novice Mage, brother?" asked a plump maiden, eyes aglow with admiration.

"Indeed, I broke through ten days ago and spent some time receiving guidance from my mentor. I have only returned today."

Galos acknowledged with a nod. His admission was met with gasps of awe and a flurry of compliments. Of course, there were those who stood afar, grinning with envy. A fifteen-year-old at the seventh rank of Novice Mage was indeed worthy of being an Elite Protégé.

"I've not sparred in a while, who wishes to test their mettle against me today?" After the pleasantries, Galos stepped onto the stage, issuing a challenge to everyone present.

Among them were many at the seventh and even eighth ranks of Novice Mage, though older than him by a few years.

Eager contenders were about to step forward when Galos added, "If none at the seventh rank dares to challenge, then let the eighth come forth."

His words dismissed the other seventh-rank Protégés as unworthy opponents. A few at the seventh rank frowned but didn't dare voice a challenge. Galos' mastery of Thundervein Valor was far superior, and even as a new seventh-rank Novice Mage, his combat prowess was likely no less than their own.

Alavin stood silently at a distance, watching. Thunderbird Galos was the one he most wished to challenge; they both manifested lightning magic, and Galos had been training Tier-2 Novice Combat Magic from the start. This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

Unfortunately, the gap between them was wide, and Alavin had never even been qualified to challenge him.

"Galos, I accept your challenge," declared a senior Protégé, a practitioner of Cloudrift Swordsmanship, also at the seventh rank of Novice Mage. Confident, he dashed forward, fluid as a lightning. His sword gleamed like a streak of light, his assault fierce.

"Ha, well met! I've mastered the fourth segment of Thundervein Valor, let's see how many segments you can force me to use." Galos' form blurred, leaving a residual image as he moved with lightning speed. His hand formed a claw aiming for the man’s shoulder. It was so swift it dazzled the eye.