"What the—he actually blocked it?!"
"I'm not seeing things, right? That guy really just…"
"This has to be a joke! That was over a hundred spells!!"
The members of the Eye of the Midnight Sun were stunned. Their faces showed disbelief.
Though their strengths varied, the weakest among them was still at the Eighth Domain level—strong enough to qualify for this capital invasion. More than a hundred spells from Eighth Domain mages, and yet…
One man blocked them all.
"Wind Creation Magic – Gale Fracture!"
As the barrage ended and the storm dissipated, four intense blasts of wind exploded outward from Ethan Hayes, launching in all directions—north, south, east, and west.
Wind has no shape. Clouds have no form.
The attack was so fast that many couldn't even react in time.
Boom!
In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen enemies were shredded into crimson mist by the high-pressure gusts.
Severed limbs. Shattered organs. Blood sprayed across the battlefield.
Those nearby were splattered with blood, and in their eyes—pure fear.
They had just smelled death.
Whoosh!
As the dust settled, Ethan didn't hesitate. He moved.
Fighting many with few was an art—it took strategy, not brute force.
While in Spirit Assimilation, he could only use wind magic. Fire magic was temporarily inaccessible. But in this situation, wind magic was exactly what he needed.
Because wind means sharpness, freedom… and above all, speed.
Flash!
Flash!
Ethan descended from the sky and weaved through the crowd below.
Staying in the air gave him some advantages—but made him an easy target. Over a hundred pairs of eyes locked onto him.
But on the ground, among the crowd?
Different story.
"Lightning Magic – Thunderbolt!"
"Sand Magic – Piercing Spears!"
Magic rained down again from all directions.
But Ethan's blinding speed made them useless.
Not even a thread of his cloak was grazed.
In fact, because the attackers were packed so closely together, many of their spells missed him entirely—and hit their own allies instead.
Screams of pain filled the air.
Others, sweating cold bullets, could only watch the green blur dart among them and pray not to be next—or accidentally struck by their own comrades.
"Scatter! Everyone, spread out!!"
Valtos' voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
Calm by nature and a strategic thinker, he quickly realized Ethan's true intention—
He was using them against themselves.
A hundred spells were powerful—but also hard to coordinate. One small mistake and they could end up wiping themselves out.
By using his speed to stay among them, Ethan had neutralized their numerical advantage.
What was once a crowd had become a burden.
"He's not just strong—he's smart," Valto muttered to himself.
He couldn't help but admire Ethan's composure and technique.
If they didn't eliminate him today… he would become a future threat to their entire revenge plan.
"Heh. So they scattered, huh?"
Still moving like the wind, Ethan calmly analyzed the situation.
Yes, dispersing would reduce the risk of friendly fire—but also made them easier to pick off one by one.
Perfect.
"Four-Leaf Magic – Passing Shadow of the Wind!"
Pushing his speed to the limit, Ethan closed a 100-meter gap in less than half a second.
He locked onto a target.
A blade formed from compressed wind appeared in his right hand.
Slash!
No hesitation. One clean cut—and Ethan vanished in a streak of green light.
The man's head didn't hit the ground until after Ethan was long gone.
His eyes were still wide open in disbelief—as if asking how he died so suddenly.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
Ethan was like a living meat grinder. Wherever the green blur passed, no one stood a chance.
In Spirit Assimilation mode, he was the wind.
Not even the elite squads from the nine magic divisions during the Royal Tournament could match this speed.
These Eye of the Midnight Sun members, no matter how savage—couldn't overcome the gap in raw power.
Strength beats evil. Always.
"Damn it!!"
Valtos, watching the one-sided slaughter, was livid. He could barely believe it.
These mages were the backbone of their organization.
Every one that died here was a major loss.
He wanted to intercept—but Ethan's movements were faster than even spatial magic.
Every time he tried to cast, Ethan was already somewhere else.
It was terrifying. Unreal.
Who the hell is this guy?!
"Spirit Magic – Wind Spirit's Lament!"
Having decapitated who-knows-how-many, Ethan suddenly stopped midair.
His mana surged.
A white mist blew from his mouth, spreading like a plague through the battlefield.
Everything it touched—was obliterated.
Ground cracked. Buildings collapsed. Wind and thunder merged in a devastating roar.
The few remaining enemies—barely ten now—stood frozen, faces drained of color.
If regret could kill, they'd have died a dozen times by now.
BOOM!
A beam of white light shot into the sky.
From across the capital, every citizen looked up at the heavens.
Even those nowhere near the battlefield could feel the power and tremble.
"That direction… it's Ethan's location. Did something happen to him?" Julius Novachrono's advisor Marx muttered, staring at the sky.
He hadn't forgotten Ethan's earlier broadcast.
Something big was happening over there. Something terrifying.
"How's the inner city holding up?" he asked.
"Sir! With most enemies lured away, the defenses are fully stabilized. Only a few stragglers remain, and they pose no serious threat!"
Marx nodded. "Good. Hold it down."
Then he turned to a subordinate. "Select twenty of our most powerful guards—now!"
Just because one wave was handled didn't mean the storm was over.
Even the Wizard King privately sang Ethan's praises. He had even hinted that Ethan might be groomed as his successor.
If Ethan died here, it would be a tragedy—not just for the Clover Kingdom's future, but for the Wizard King personally.
Even if some couldn't admit it out loud…
Some people's existence was simply irreplaceable.
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