“Don’t even think about leaving here alive today!”
Feilin stretched out her hand, recalling the two dice.
The dice, as if alive, nimbly danced back and forth between her fingers.
She raised her other hand and pressed it firmly against her own chest.
She cast a divine spell on herself—Misfortune.
This divine spell would drastically lower the target’s luck.
However, Feilin was still under the effect of Fortune’s Favor, which reversed luck.
So, she instead gained even more good fortune!
With the blessing of absolute luck…
This strike… would surely end Marco’s life!
Feilin’s gaze locked tightly onto Marco, as if it could pierce right through him.
She whispered a prayer once more:
“Marco feels utterly unlucky today, as if the whole world is against him.”
The dice between her fingers trembled slightly, emitting a strong green light.
Clack clack.
The dice fell to the ground, showing a result of 22.
A dark green light instantly blossomed, illuminating the entire battlefield.
Divine Spell—Unforeseen Disaster!
The target locked by this spell would suffer all manner of miraculous misfortunes!
Seeing this, Marco immediately condensed a bloody shield in front of himself, guarding against the unknown attack.
But surprisingly, the threat came from behind.
Behind him, a pair of deep green eyes suddenly snapped open.
ROAR!
A deep, thunderous roar echoed, making the entire forest tremble.
The large tree beside Marco suddenly uprooted itself.
It was actually an ancient treant!
They were guardians of the forest, and anyone who dared to damage it would be crushed by them.
And Blood Mage Marco was very unfortunate.
The very tree he had been leaning against happened to be a treant.
Even more unfortunate, this treant was enraged by his blood magic.
The treant stood nearly seven meters tall, its gray-brown bark covered in cracks.
It slowly raised an arm, which was a massive branch covered in green leaves.
With irresistible force, it swatted down at Marco.
“Damn it!”
Marco cursed under his breath.
‘Is it too late for me to plant a tree now…’
BOOM!
Marco’s body was slapped into a bloody pulp by the treant.
The bloody mass writhed, rapidly coalescing into a long spear.
Whoosh.
A sound cut through the air as the blood spear pierced through the treant.
It left a bowl-sized hole in the treant’s torso.
The spear transformed back into Marco’s form in mid-air.
He looked at the treant roaring at him from the ground, then glanced at Feilin not far away.
“This dumb oaf that can only crawl on the ground, how could it possibly catch me.” He sneered, mocking the people on the ground.
‘After all, none of these people can fly.’
Having gained aerial superiority, he was already in an invincible position.
Marco covered his face with a hand, throwing his head back and laughing.
“Hahaha!”
“It seems your lucky spell isn’t so effective after all.”
“If you ask me, it’d be more straightforward to just summon a lightning bolt to strike me down.” Before his words faded…
CRACK!
A bolt of lightning from a clear sky precisely struck Marco in the air.
Marco crashed…
“Cough, cough… really… speak of the devil…”
Marco, his body charred black, spat out a puff of black smoke, speaking weakly.
ROAR!
The treant, which had been waiting on the ground, let out a furious roar.
It threw out a thick vine, ensnaring Marco in mid-air and yanking him down.
SMACK! Like swatting a fly, it slapped Marco onto the ground once more.
“It’s not over yet,” Feilin said softly.
Crack crack.
The ground beneath the treant’s feet suddenly split open with a massive fissure.
Like a scar, it cleaved the entire forest in two!
A massive earthquake had conveniently occurred right under Marco.
Marco tried his old trick, turning into blood to escape the treant’s grasp.
But this time he failed. The treant wove a watertight cage with its vines.
He was trapped tightly within the cage.
Marco’s pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks.
‘This time, I’m really done for!’
Rumble…
The entire slab of rock that Marco and the treant were on sank downwards.
Like a block being pulled away, both of them plummeted into the fissure.
“It’s over.”
Feilin shook off the blood clots stuck to her tail, then rubbed her furry ears to soothe her nerves.
She walked to the edge of the fissure and looked down. It was a bottomless abyss.
She kicked a loose stone at her feet.
The stone fell into the abyss, not even an echo could be heard.
“Boss, is Marco… just gone like that?”
Gavin came up behind Feilin, his tone one of disbelief.
“Hmph~”
“He’s gone, dead without even a body left.”
Feilin snorted coldly at the abyss.
“Top graduate of Saint Cyril Theological Seminary, traitor to the Glimmer Church, Archmage of the Withered Blood Court, Liola’s most loyal follower.”
She recited a string of titles.
“Sounds pretty intimidating, but that doesn’t scare me, Big Tail Rat!”
“Marco is nothing special.”
“Hahaha, he’s no match for me at all!” She stood at the cliff’s edge, laughing heartily.
Her clear voice echoed back and forth within the chasm.
Thud.
A dark red hand, fingers splayed open.
Reached up from just below the edge of the fissure and grabbed Feilin’s ankle.
Her body suddenly stiffened, the smile freezing on her face.
Her tail fur involuntarily stood on end. A drop of cold sweat dripped from her forehead.
Feilin stumbled back a step, bumping into Gavin behind her.
“That bastard isn’t dead yet, we need to run!”
She quickly turned around, grabbing her last remaining subordinate.
Most of Feilin’s divine spells were already used up.
For a good while, not only would she have no combat power, but she’d also be plagued by frequent bad luck.
‘While Marco hasn’t climbed up yet, run for it.’
‘Let someone else deal with the rest, I, Feilin, am done for…’
Schlick.
The sound of a sharp blade piercing skin and sinking into flesh.
Feilin looked down and saw a blade tip protruding from her flat chest.
The tip of a silver dagger, stained with fresh, crimson heart’s blood.
This is… my blood…
The bright red blood dripped down the blade tip.
Drop by drop, it fell to the ground, blooming like a tiny flower.
She felt as if her very breath had stopped.
Feilin slowly turned her head and saw her familiar subordinate, Gavin.
“Gavin… you…”
Her voice seemed to catch in her throat.
“Sorry, boss, I—”
A flash of ruthlessness passed through Gavin’s eyes.
Schlick!
Feilin’s heart gave a sudden lurch in her chest, then the dagger twisted violently.
She could almost hear the sound.
The sound of her own heart being shredded, schlick schlick.
Pop.
The dagger was pulled out.
Feilin’s knees gave way, her body collapsing downwards.
Shivering, she hugged her big tail, curling it around herself into a ball, huddling on the ground.
Like livestock bled out and waiting to die…
Blood spread out from beneath her, staining a large patch of earth red.
The dice fell from her pocket, soaked in blood, spinning endlessly.
From below the edge of the fissure, a mass of viscous plasma slowly oozed out.
Marco’s figure stepped out from the plasma.
Clap clap clap.
Marco raised his hands, applauding softly as he walked over.
“It seems good luck alone cannot defeat a well-prepared mage.”
“Honestly, you almost had me.”
“But in the end, I still came out slightly ahead.”
Marco walked up to Feilin, intending to check her condition.
Feilin’s right hand shot out, grabbing the two blood-stained dice.
Her fingers clenched!
With her last bit of strength, she actually crushed one of the dice.
Marco was startled, afraid she might suddenly pull out another trump card.
He instantly transformed into a ball of plasma and flew some distance away.
He quickly pointed at Feilin on the ground and issued an order to Gavin.
“Gavin! Go check if your boss is dead or not.”