part0008

The Scylla started casting more Grand Scale Magic at him, and just like before, the magic formation was activated in just a couple of seconds. Lark knew that he had to find a way to prevent all seven heads from working together, otherwise, they’d just keep firing spells at him one after another.

The magic formation above Lark glowed and spun slowly, eventually forming a portal-like vortex. Inside the vortex, hundreds of lightning serpents emerged and shot toward Lark, each of them probably strong enough to scorch and kill a knight in a single strike.

With the number of lightning serpents alone, it’d be impossible to outrun and evade them all. Lark stood his ground and started casting two barrier spells. The ground rose and formed five gigantic hands, each of them fortified by the wind barrier spell. The gigantic hands started swatting the lightning serpents, preventing them from hitting their master.

Cracks quickly started forming on the gigantic hands, despite the fortification of the wind barrier spell. At this rate, the defensive spell would shatter in a few seconds. And to make matters worse, two of the Scylla’s heads opened their mouths and spat out two colossal balls of fire.

Lark gnashed his teeth.

Hundreds of lightning serpents above and two colossal balls of fire in front.

If only he still had the mithril cubes.

Lark looked at the forest filled with gigantic, ancient trees. Elven oaks were several times stronger than an average tree. It was almost as strong as iron.

Without hesitation, Lark channeled large amounts of mana into his lower limbs and temporarily boosted his speed tremendously. He abandoned the giant hands protecting him and retreated in the direction of the forest. His legs screamed as his muscles started tearing apart after being pushed to their limit. Lark gritted his teeth and endured the pain.

The colossal balls of fire struck the giant hands made of earth magic and swallowed them completely. The lightning serpents, on the other hand, chased after Lark and shot in the direction of the forest. The lightning serpents avoided the trees, as though they had lives of their own as they chased after him. As expected of Grand Scale Magic.

Lark’s legs were becoming numb as seconds ticked by.

While keeping a good distance away from the hundreds of lightning serpents, he started casting his spell. Despite the fact the Scylla used seven heads to cast a single spell, Lark’s casting speed did not lose in the slightest.

Tremendous amounts of mana started oozing out of Lark’s body. Layers upon layers of runes started forming and overlapping with each other, forming a magic formation above the forest. After several seconds, the magic formation was complete.

Lark activated his spell.

Grand Scale Magic—Will of the Dryad.

The same spell he used in the forest near the capital. The same spell he used to annihilate the assassins sent by Black Midas.

After some deliberation, Lark had come to the conclusion that this was the best Grand Scale Magic to use in his current situation. Each of these ancient trees, which had lived for more than a thousand years, were almost as large as the Scylla itself. Although it would be impossible to control hundreds of them with this spell, even a few dozen would be enough to suppress the Scylla for a moment.

In his previous life, Lark always told his disciples that even a low tier spell could defeat a high-tier spell if used properly. When used at its utmost potential, even a single Grand Scale Magic spell could suppress that seven-headed monster.

The moment Lark’s spell was activated, the entire fourth floor of the labyrinth trembled. Several dozen ancient elven oak trees started uprooting themselves. Several faces of humans in despair started forming on their barks.

Lark could not ask for a more favorable battlefield right now. A forest filled with millennium-old gigantic elven oaks was undoubtedly the ideal place for the Will of the Dryad spell.

The roots of the elven oaks, some of which extended for more than a hundred meters, shot up and struck the lightning serpents. Some elven oaks started destroying the lightning serpents using their branches, and some used their mana-infused leaves to shield Lark from the attacks.

The Scylla, who’d been watching from afar, was surprised upon seeing several dozen ancient elven oaks come to life.

After destroying all of the lightning serpents, the ancient elven oaks started moving toward the Scylla. With dozens of colossal ancient trees approaching it, the Scylla started to look like an average size monster.

Lark stood on the branch of one of the moving elven oaks and started drinking a middle-grade potion. The effect on his torn muscles was instantaneous. He sighed and tossed the vial on the ground. He looked at the Scylla, who even now, refused to move away from the statue.

Although he’d used up almost all of his mana, he was now in a far better situation than before. These elven oaks had been living here for over a millennium—they’d been absorbing the vast amounts of ambient mana in this labyrinth—and were almost as hard as iron.

The moment the elven oaks had surrounded the Scylla, Lark spoke, “Hey, lizard.”

The heads of the Scylla looked at the Lark in bewilderment. The human had definitely spoken in draconian language.

“Don’t you agree that that statue is an eyesore?” said Lark. “It’d be great if it breaks once you and these stupidly large trees start fighting each other.”

As though adding more provocation, the elven oaks moved their roots and branches threateningly. The Scylla growled. It moved closer to the golden statue, as though desperately protecting it with its body.

Lark found this sight amusing. He didn’t know how that disciple of his had done it, but it was clear that this seven-headed monster was incredibly protective of the treasure stored in this floor of the labyrinth.

Under normal circumstances, this Scylla would win in a fight against these elven oaks. But with it clinging desperately to the statue, Lark knew that it would not be able to put up a proper fight.

“Human, if you make even a scratch on the statue of God Evander, I’ll chase you out of here! If you somehow manage to escape this labyrinth alive!” the Scylla finally spoke and spouted threats using draconian language.

Lark chuckled. “How cute. Let’s see… Should I destroy the head of the statue first?”

The eyes of the Scylla grew wide from rage. It roared, “Just try it, human! After I kill you, I’ll also destroy your Empire! Your family, your friends! I’ll burn them all alive!”

As expected of a prideful monster, it got riled up after just a few words. It seemed that taunting it using the statue was a very effective tactic.

Lark decided to make use of this to make an opening.

“The statue,” said Lark. “Destroy it.”

The ground trembled as the roots of the elven oaks started shooting toward the golden statue. Fear was evident in the eyes of the Scylla after realizing that the human was really trying to destroy the statue it had been protecting all its life.

The Scylla roared and started biting and destroying all of the roots and branches shooting toward it. It spread its two pairs of wings wide and covered the statue, shielding it from the attacks. Even its tail moved to block the roots and branches of the elven oaks.

The Scylla started accepting several blows from the elven oaks using its body, just to prevent even a single strike reaching the statue of Evander. The way the seven heads moved and desperately intercepted each attack was amazing. Despite the relentless attack from dozens of elven oaks, not even a single one had landed on the golden statue.

As the Scylla desperately fought to protect the statue, Lark quickly analyzed the flow of mana as he tried to find the entrance to the treasure room.

Unfortunately, the message of Wisgarus before his death did not indicate where the entrance was. Lark ended up expending a bit of his mana to find the hidden entrance.

After some time, Lark found it.

Without hesitation, Lark jumped from the branch he was standing on, and using flight magic, shot toward the direction of the statue’s mouth.

The Scylla’s heads immediately moved to devour him, but the elven oaks used their branches to protect their master. Using this opening, Lark landed on the statue’s mouth and pried it open. He immediately entered.

Upon entering the statue, Lark cast an orb of light. He saw an already opened bronze door with a complex magic formation carved on it. Judging by the overlapping runes in the magic formation, this door used to contain a very powerful defensive spell, which unfortunately vanished after the passage of time.

Lark entered through the door and went down the long, winding staircase. The moment he arrived at the bottom of the statue, Lark was momentarily struck speechless by what he saw: Mountains of gold coins dating back to the Magic Empire, dozens of high-grade and pinnacle-grade mana stones, adamantite ores, mithril ingots, pinnacle-grade healing potions, bloodstone fragments, heart of a Frost Dragon, High Demon cores, blood emeralds, Tears of Ubroxias, fangs of Cerberus, tears of dryads, mandrake roots. Lark also saw several weapons—spears, swords, and shields—made of adamantite.

Each of these treasures were worth tens of thousands in gold coins. But as though they were insignificant, they were simply scattered among the piles of gold coins.

Lark looked at a sword held by a golden pillar.

White, translucent blade. Platinum hilt made of adamantite, with five gemstones embedded in it—all of which were made from the cores of Elementals.

It was the Sword of Morpheus, without a doubt.

His most prized possession back in his previous life.

This sword had accompanied him through numerous life-or-death situations back then. Without this sword, he probably would have died when he fought the demon lords in his previous life.

Lark’s gaze moved to the words written on the golden pillar. It was written in the language of the Magic Empire.

Lark felt a squeezing sensation in his heart. His disciples had stolen almost half the treasure from the Forbidden Tower and moved it to this labyrinth. Although it sounded foolish, those two believed in him until the end.

Lark looked around him. Despite the urge to grab the Sword of Morpheus, he did not take another step forward. He was sure that his disciples had placed a trap in this treasure room to deter unwanted visitors.

Carved on the wall was a small, almost inconspicuous magic formation. Despite its size, it was far more complex than the one carved on the bronze door near the statue’s mouth. Lark stood in silence as he studied the magic formation. After some time, he arrived at a conclusion.

A pinnacle-grade spell was currently protecting this place. Had Lark taken several more steps, the spell would have activated and crushed his body in an instant.

After he’d taken a careful look, Lark noticed the disfigured bodies half-buried in gold coins a few steps away from him. The two bodies had been reduced to nothing but torn, rotting flesh and crushed bones. They were probably the corpses of the two royal court magicians who’d entered this room a few months ago.

They probably died without even knowing what kind of spell struck them.

“Let’s see,” mumbled Lark. “The source of the pinnacle-grade spell’s mana.” He scanned the treasure room. After some time, he found the pinnacle-grade spell’s source of mana—the heart of a Frost Dragon.

Lark doubted that a lot of intruders had managed to reach this treasure room, which was probably why the heart of a Frost Dragon had managed to maintain the pinnacle-grade spell for over a millennium.

Judging by the amount of mana left in the heart of the Frost Dragon, it should probably be able to maintain the pinnacle-grade spell for a hundred more years at a minimum.

“They didn’t kill a Frost Dragon just for this, right?”

Lark rubbed his brow. Kubarkava had killed a few dragons before. Lark wouldn’t be surprised if that kid had killed a dragon living in the Frost Mountains of Yleonor just to protect these treasures. He wasn’t heralded by historians as the ‘Dragon Devourer’ for no reason.

There was no use in thinking about these things now. As long as the pinnacle-grade spell was protecting this treasure room, there would be no way for him to obtain these treasures.

Using almost all of his remaining mana, Lark shot a disintegration spell toward the Frost Dragon’s heart. It wasn’t enough to destroy the heart, but it was more than enough to disrupt its flow of mana for a couple of seconds. Without its source of mana, the Hand of God spell wouldn’t activate.

Lark used this opening and immediately ran toward the Sword of Morpheus. He climbed the mountain of gold and grabbed the sword from the golden pillar.

“It’s been a while.” Lark grinned.

The sword fit in his hands perfectly. Lark pressed his thumb on the sword’s blade, making a deep cut, and smeared his blood on the hilt of the sword. Using a predetermined flow of mana only the creator of the sword knew, he activated the core of the Elementals embedded in it.

Under Lark’s command, the five gemstones immediately started sucking in mana from the sword’s blade. The translucent blade—a crystallized form of mana from the dragon vein below—still held a terrifying amount of mana even after millennium had passed.

The mana the sword’s blade held was so astronomical that it made the amount stored in a Tears of Ubroxia seem trivial.

The heart of the Frost Dragon finally broke free from the disintegration spell and the Hand of God was immediately activated. An invisible force started wrapping around Lark. The same invisible force which crushed the two royal court magicians.

Using the mana stored inside the Sword of Morpheus, Lark started casting several barrier spells one after another. Whenever the Hand of God broke the barrier, Lark simply cast another one.

It’d been a long time since Lark could do this. It’d been a long time since he could cast several spells without caring about his mana.

After almost a minute of relentlessly casting dozens of barrier spells to resist the pinnacle-grade spell, Lark finally decided to get rid of it. He shot several disintegration spells at the Frost Dragon’s heart, disrupting the mana stored inside it completely. Immediately, the pinnacle-grade spell stopped working and the Hand of God vanished.

Lark fired another spell at the Frost Dragon’s heart, cutting it into pieces.

Lark looked around him. He could probably buy a kingdom with this fortune.

“It’d be nice if I could take all of these with me to Blackstone Town.”

He heard a loud thud outside and the statue momentarily shook. It seemed that one of the elven oaks had managed to land a hit on the golden statue.

Lark heard a furious roar.

“These uselessly large trees! You dare harm the statue of God Evander!”

The ground shook and Lark heard the flapping of wings, followed by roars and several loud explosions. It seemed that the Scylla had finally lost it after the elven oaks managed to land a hit on the statue it had been protecting.