Chapter 1642: The Scroll Master’s Arsenal
Pallas remained silent. His massive hand, reaching for Symethis, had been stopped. Unwilling to concede, he pushed his bloodline power further, attempting to intensify the Rite of Fatebound Offering.
For a moment, the two Divine Arts remained deadlocked. Pallas’s aura rapidly depleted. Ultimately, he was forced to relent and pull back.
Crack... crack...
As Pallas withdrew, the protective black diamond shell surrounding Symethis shattered. The celestial had narrowly escaped a certain death.
"Hmph... You thought it was over?" Symethis scoffed. "Naive!"
In the distance, Pallas let out a cold snort. He raised his eight arms, and bundles of forbidden-tier magic scrolls materialized in his grasp. The sight was absurd.
"This is spatial isolation magic!"
"Time suspension magic!"
"A fire sealing art!"
"A water sealing art!"
"..."
"This is a light sealing art—it should work on you!"
The seven core elements, plus at least five specialized schools of magic. Pallas held an arsenal of forbidden scrolls, ranging from offense and defense to self-buffs and enemy seals. He had everything.
While Symethis, Fergus, Tarn, and the guards watched in stunned disbelief, Pallas rapidly tore the scrolls open.
Instantly, a chaotic surge of magical energy flooded the area. It felt as if the world were tearing itself apart.
"You... how is this possible... you’re not even a mage!" Symethis felt sick. He couldn’t comprehend how a mere Legendary level weakling possessed an entire library of elemental seals, let alone forbidden-tier ones.
"Heh... Sorry about that!" Pallas offered a sheepish grin. Using scrolls to fight felt a bit like cheating, but so what? External tools were part of one’s power!
However, his bashful smile was short-lived. It vanished entirely.
From the center of Symethis’s brow, the phantom projection of a demigod stepped forth from the void.
The forbidden spells Pallas had just unleashed were only effective against Arch Lords. They were useless against a demigod. Even a mere projection carried the weight of divine laws; forbidden magic could not touch it.
"Little one, know when to stop. Relying on magic scrolls is a dishonorable victory," the demigod projection declared, its presence suppressing Pallas so thoroughly he could barely move his lips, let alone retort.
Just then, a booming voice echoed, freeing Pallas and turning the pressure onto the unknown demigod projection.
"Is sneaking onto the Titan continent without a word honorable?"
"Is destroying cities and slaughtering people honorable?"
"Is bullying the weak honorable?"
A dragon’s roar shook the heavens and the earth. A World Dragon closed the distance in the blink of an eye, arriving before Pallas. It reached out a claw toward the unknown demigod projection.
"Sir, we..."
Snap!
Leonidas didn’t give the projection a chance to explain. With a crush of his draconic claws, the demigod phantom was obliterated.
"My brother said unless an apex powerhouse descends, there’s nothing to discuss!" Leonidas turned to Pallas after dealing with the expected intervention. "Kid, finish up here and report to The Bastion Wall immediately!"
With that, Leonidas vanished. As the guardian of The Great Bastion of the East, he didn’t have time for idle chatter with Pallas.
His departure left a lingering silence over the battlefield.
"Heh... Sorry, looks like your backer got squashed." Pallas shrugged, speaking affably while moving with ruthless efficiency. "My uncle said you are to be suppressed here, to endure the pain of having your tendons pulled and bones crushed day and night, and to surrender your flesh and soul. Apologies!"
In a breath, Pallas sealed Symethis into a magic scroll.
Landing on the ground, Pallas drove the sealing scroll deep into the foundations of Lizard City. This was Slagor’s dying wish, which Pallas had heard upon arriving.
"First Cousin, Second Cousin, we should get moving." Pallas turned to Fergus and Tarn. "That was likely the demigod mentor our dad found for us. We can’t afford to delay."
Atop The Great Bastion of the East, a square table was set. Leonidas, Makareth, and Isabella occupied three sides, enjoying the sweeping view and feeling a sense of deep satisfaction.
Leonidas had disappeared and returned in a flash. Makareth and Isabella knew exactly what their brother had been doing.
"Well?" Makareth poured Leonidas a full cup, eager for gossip about Pallas. They had heard of Orion’s other children but had never formally met them.
Isabella felt a strange sensation, akin to a stepmother meeting her new son. It was a feeling hard to explain to outsiders.
"His talent is a bit lacking compared to his older siblings, but not by much. First-generation divine blood is no joke!" Leonidas downed his drink, shaking his head. It was unclear if he was satisfied with the liquor or the boy. "He’ll reach the demigod level, at the very least."
"How is the kid’s combat power?" Isabella asked. She didn’t want a useless son.
"With my brother’s Stoneheart Titan bloodline backing him, punching above his weight to fight an average Arch Lord won’t be hard." Leonidas affirmed Pallas’s potential, and by extension, Orion’s. "But honestly... his raw power is average, and his combat instincts are standard."
Leonidas narrowed his eyes, replaying Pallas’s fight in his mind. "Thankfully, he’s smart. He’s not stubborn, understands his own limits, and knows how to leverage his advantages. This kid... he has the Deputy Commander’s old style!"
Leonidas set down his cup and pointed a finger. A water mirror materialized, displaying a recording of Pallas’s battle. Leonidas fell into thought, recalling similar fighting styles.
"The Deputy Commander’s style?" Isabella scoffed. "Smashing people with magic scrolls? What a spendthrift!"
To think that she, a dignified Arch Lord, wasn’t as wealthy as Pallas. Even to her, forbidden-tier scrolls were rare commodities.
Isabella’s complaint snapped Leonidas out of his reverie. He shrugged dismissively. "His older brother and sister were both taught by the Deputy Commander. You’ve met those two; you know their talent. Caelus and Elara are at the stage of breaking through to demigod, just like Squiddy. For those two monsters, crafting a few forbidden scrolls for their little brothers is nothing, right? And the younger ones shamelessly asking for them for self-defense isn’t too much to ask, either."
It was a sobering thought. Comparisons were odious. Before joining the group, Makareth had fought alone in the Abyss, and he was still a lone wolf. Isabella had an Arch Lord father in name only, receiving very little of true value.
But Pallas? Given Elara’s doting nature, it was highly likely that the majority of the magic scrolls she had crafted since she began learning magic were currently sitting in Pallas’s inventory.
