Chapter 24 : The Protection of Refraction

The casting time of Scorching Fireball was seven seconds.

However, thanks to the fire mage’s innate affinity for flames, he could forcefully reduce the casting time to under five seconds—already the standard casting time for a basic Tier 1 spell.

The flames gathered almost instantly into a massive fireball.

By the third second, it had launched at an abstract arc.

By the fifth second, the fireball hovered above Li Wen’s head—and then, with an earsplitting roar and a blinding surge of heat and light, it exploded.

The front end of the stone bridge and the base of the spire were instantly engulfed in a sea of fire.

Yet, despite the overwhelming force of the blast, the seemingly ordinary spire and bridge remained unmoved.

The flames merely burned upon them in eerie stillness.

The fire mage didn’t even bother checking to confirm his opponent’s death—it wasn’t necessary.

Even among Tier 3 spells, Scorching Fireball was infamous for its destructive power.

Anyone below Phase Two caught within its blast would be vaporized in an instant.

He rummaged through his pockets for any remaining potions he could use, but those that could heal, restore life, or cleanse curses and toxins had long since been depleted.

All that remained were a few useless vials.

If he didn’t counteract the poison soon, he wouldn’t last much longer.

The curse wasn’t the problem—it was minor and short-lived, not enough to threaten his life.

But the poison… if his guess was correct, the mercenary had used a toxin distilled from deadly nightshade.

That kind of poison could cause hallucinations and kill within three to six hours.

Collapsing to the ground in exhaustion, the fire mage felt his heart pounding uncontrollably while his brain swam with the dizzying sensation of oxygen deprivation.

His vision blurred into a haze.

Then—he heard footsteps.

He struggled to lift his head and could just barely make out the figure of the warlock—still standing.

The one who should have died in the heart of the fireball.

Was this a hallucination already?

Had the poison taken hold so fast?

“You’re going to die,” the illusion said, its voice echoing from far away.

No… this wasn’t a hallucination.

The fire element within him screamed in alarm, but he no longer had the strength to even raise his hand to cast a spell.

“You… you shouldn’t be alive… that was Scorching Fireball…” he rasped, his voice full of disbelief.

“Just lucky, that’s all,” Li Wen replied calmly.

She glanced at her empty palm and then continued in an even tone.

After ascending to a Supplicant, she had gained a special state called Merged with Light.

Using a unique ritual technique, she had converted this into an artifact: Refraction’s Protection.

It was this very ritual that had allowed her to survive the inferno of the fireball.

Refraction’s Protection was a short-duration ritual belonging to the Glimmer spectrum of defensive arts.

While active, the ritual reduced all non-Glimmer damage received by 20%—and redirected that same portion back to the attacker.

But that alone wouldn’t have been enough to save her.

The true advantage lay in the secondary effect granted by the ritual: a temporary extraordinary trait known as Glimmer Refraction.

When the bearer of this trait was about to take damage, there was a chance that the glimmer would produce a projection—an image that could take part or all of the damage on their behalf, so long as the attack was Tier 3 or lower.

It was a gamble.

Li Wen had once seen statistical breakdowns of this trait shared within the strategy group.

The chance of triggering a projection was about 30%.

If triggered, there were three possible outcomes: the projection would absorb 10%, 50%, or 100% of the damage—at probabilities of 70%, 25%, and 1%, respectively.

And there was a final 4% chance it wouldn’t activate at all.

Her ideal scenario during the fireball strike had been a 50% damage redirection by the projection, combined with the 20% reduction from Refraction’s Protection.

That would mitigate 70% of the total damage.

Then, by burning her health with a prayer incantation, her shield and healing effects could’ve kept her life hovering between 1% and 10%.

But that was the best-case scenario.

If Glimmer Refraction hadn’t triggered, or if the projection only absorbed 10%, she would’ve died.

Yet, fate had rolled in her favor.

Not only had the projection activated—it absorbed 100% of the fireball’s impact, the rarest and most unlikely outcome.

In the end, she had only suffered minor burns from the residual flames.

But was it really just coincidence?

Li Wen didn’t linger on the question.

After a pause, she turned to the weakened fire mage.

“Where did you learn about Amber City?” she asked.

“And how did you get in?”

“Amber City?”

His face paled further, and his voice grew agitated.

“What are you talking about?”

“So you didn’t know,” Li Wen said, losing all interest in continuing the questioning.

“Amber City… Dusk spectrum… I see now,” the fire mage muttered, as if suddenly understanding something.

“Hahaha… those decrepit old fools! They spent their whole lives chasing the Eternal City and never found it.”

“Who would’ve thought it was right here, in the Black Dragon Territory? They’d never imagine it… hahaha…”

He laughed for a while, then abruptly said, “I only ended up here by accident. A failed spatial jump, nothing more.”

He went on, “You wanted to kill me over this? No—I have no interest in the Dusk spectrum! I’m not your rival. You don’t need to kill me. I swear, in the name of the Bernier family, I’ll keep your secret.”

He gasped for breath before continuing, “In fact, if you let me live, I’ll serve you. I’ll even share the secrets of the Sunlight Mystics. You’re definitely not a student of the Mystics—I’m certain of that. But I can get you in.”

“I can make those ancient masters teach you their forbidden, terrifying magics… Just let me live!”

Li Wen shook her head.

“I don’t need the allegiance of an elemental mage.

And while that’s certainly a major reason… it’s not the only reason I intend to kill you.”

She looked him in the eyes.

“Why did you attack the merchant convoy and steal the cargo?”

“Convoy?”

The fire mage blinked, then laughed.

“You mean those mercenaries? They were nothing but scum who deserved death. I simply dealt with righteous judgment when I crossed their path!”

She didn’t believe that for a second.

“Tell me the real reason.”

The fire mage fell silent.

He refused to speak.

Only when the poison surged through his system again—making him cough violently and spit out foul, bloodied phlegm—did he finally meet her gaze.

With a strained voice, he said:

“Do you know what they were transporting?”

“If you want to die right this moment,” she said coldly, “keep asking questions like that.”

He grinned.

“Alright then… I’ll tell you. Their cargo wasn’t just rare spices, fabrics, or luxury goods. That was just a cover.”

“Their true objective… was to transport a magical potion called Moonlight Elixir—directly to the royal capital.”