Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1498: Clash of Elements

Two large wind orbs circled in Raze’s hands, glowing with a sharp, cutting aura. For the first time in all of his battles during this event, he made the first move. With a sharp thrust of his arms, the orbs were launched into the air, spinning as they curved and twisted into intricate, unnatural shapes.

The crowd leaned forward, their eyes widening. Many of the mages watching had never seen a wind spell shaped like that before. It wasn’t the raw destructive power that made it impressive, it was the technique, the refinement. Only those who specialized in wind magic recognized the complexity, and they exchanged murmurs of disbelief.

Rather than aiming directly at Ibarin, the orbs struck the ground and detonated. From the impact point, several violent wind currents exploded outward, rushing across the floor in expanding circles. The spell wasn’t designed to strike from one angle, it was designed to swallow an opponent whole, sealing every escape route with a sphere of whirling tornado strikes.

Gasps rippled through the stadium. "It blocks all exits!" one mage exclaimed.

But Ibarin didn’t so much as flinch. As the rushing winds tore toward him, his hands spread wide. With a simple motion, a massive current of wind burst from his body, a constant stream of force that shredded every incoming strike. The gust howled, tearing apart Raze’s carefully crafted spell, scattering the tornadoes into harmless wisps of air.

He had countered with sheer force, pure mana and higher-level wind magic overwhelming technique.

"That student is more impressive than I thought," one guest muttered.

"You’re really going to say that," another scoffed, "after the Grand Magus just brushed it aside like it was nothing?"

"You don’t understand," the first replied. "That spell required extreme mana control. To execute it so perfectly at his age... it makes me wonder. Is his core naturally attuned to wind magic?"

Before the whispers settled, another storm was already brewing. At the center of the arena, a massive tornado swirled into existence, rushing straight toward Ibarin.

With a confident smile, the Grand Magus raised his hands and conjured an identical spell. His own tornado spiraled forward, colliding with Raze’s mid-air. From the stands, it looked like two colossal serpents made of wind had clashed, writhing and twisting as they fought for dominance.

The crowd cheered at the spectacle, but Raze’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, Ibarin’s storm began pushing his back, inch by inch, crushing his attack under greater power.

Mana. Sheer mana. It wasn’t skill or refinement, it was the difference in their reservoirs.

Raze didn’t hesitate. His hands shifted, channeling not only wind but fire. Flames curled and wrapped around his tornado, heating it until the winds became searing currents of blazing force. The moment the two storms collided again, the unstable fusion ignited, bursting apart in a massive explosion.

The sky lit up with embers. The ground shuddered as the detonation sent a shockwave across the arena. Wind tore through the stands, tossing cloaks and rattling the stadium, while fiery sparks rained down before fading into ash.

Whispers surged again. Raze had forced the clash into a draw by destabilizing his own spell.

"You could tell you were going to lose in a contest of raw power," Ibarin said, his voice calm but sharp, carrying through the arena. "So you deliberately made your spell unstable by adding fire, causing an artificial burst. Risky, but clever. I have to say, I’m impressed. I never expected such ingenuity from a so-called Wilton teacher."

Raze’s expression didn’t change. His silence was answer enough.

Then, the air itself crackled. Lightning surged across the sky, bolts splitting into twelve distinct pillars that encircled Ibarin in a perfect clock-face formation. Each bolt hummed with killing intent.

The crowd erupted in awe. "Twelve-point formation!" a lightning mage gasped.

Raze’s hand extended, and a focused bolt shot from his palm, striking one of the outer pillars. Instantly, arcs of energy connected the twelve points, forming a glowing cage of lightning. The formation was complete. From every angle, ground and sky, beams of condensed energy converged on Ibarin.

The impact should have been devastating. It should have torn flesh and bone to ash.

But none of the lightning touched him.

The crowd fell silent, stunned, as the bolts swirled harmlessly around the Grand Magus, weaving like obedient serpents under his command. His blazer remained unscorched, his skin untouched. Every strike twisted in the air, deflected not by barriers or shields, but by his mastery of mana.

Then, with a single hand raised to the heavens, Ibarin gathered all the lightning into a single condensed orb. The raw power hummed, vibrating through the entire colosseum, before he slammed it into the ground.

The explosion was deafening. A pillar of lightning erupted, shaking the stadium as if the sky itself had fallen. Stone cracked, magical wards shattered, and even the protective lightning rods positioned around the arena exploded, fragments scattering into the air.

For a moment, the audience sat in stunned silence. Then a wave of whispers swept through them.

"He caught all of it..."

"And threw it back like nothing..."

Ibarin chuckled, his voice carrying easily now, filled with arrogance. "Hahaha! You’ve shown greater control than I expected. I thought you were merely at the six-star level, but with this skill, this refinement... I’d say you’ve reached seven stars at least!"

The reaction was immediate, gasps, shouts, disbelief. A student, barely past boyhood, standing at seven stars? It had never been recorded in the history of Alterian. It was absurd, and yet they were watching it unfold.

It explained his confidence. It explained his victories.

"However..." Ibarin’s smile widened, sharp and cold. "Can’t you see it? I’m doing to you what you’ve done to all your opponents. Every spell you’ve cast, every strike you’ve thrown, I’ve brushed them aside. Casually. Effortlessly. This is how you humiliated others, isn’t it?"

The Grand Magus’ voice darkened, dripping with cruel satisfaction. "Well then... I think it’s time you tasted your own medicine."

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