Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

“Ugh!” “Argh!” “Ahhh!”

Although the crimson blood arrow was aimed solely at Alan, the bloody storm it stirred up along the way mercilessly claimed the lives of countless attackers in the vicinity.

These unfortunate souls didn’t even understand what had happened before they were torn apart and crushed into ashes by Bruce’s immense mana.

If one could say a tier-diamond mage still belonged within the bounds of human potential, then the attack of a Legendary mage had already far surpassed the realm of human imagination!

The blood-red arrow was drawing closer and closer, its tip nearly at Alan’s throat. He could feel his heart leap into his throat.

Everything around him seemed to slow down. In his vision, nothing remained but the color red.

He even forgot to breathe at that moment—only the powerful thumping of his heart reminded him that he was still alive.

Legendary-tier magic… is this what it’s truly like?

Alan had never imagined such a scenario, let alone prepared for it.

What was unfolding before his eyes had completely shattered his expectations.

High above in the sky, Bruce hovered in midair like a divine being—untouchable and holy.

He looked down at Alan with condescension, like a god gazing at an insignificant ant. His eyes overflowed with disdain and contempt.

“Angry? Frightened? Feeling helpless, aren’t you?”

“No matter what little tricks you have up your sleeve, in front of truly powerful foes like us, you’re nothing.”

“Admit it. Submit. You’re just a powerless weakling, a loser, a coward!”

Suddenly, Alan heard a voice echo from the depths of his heart, vague and mocking.

It didn’t sound like Bruce. It wasn’t even someone else.

It sounded like—himself.

His own subconscious… mocking his current powerlessness.

“No… I’m not. I’m not a loser!”

“On the battlefield… only those who survive until the very end are the true victors!”

Alan abruptly raised his head, his gaze sharper and fiercer than ever, striking back against Bruce’s condescension.

At the same time, the whites of his eyes turned pitch black, and his pupils became redder than blood itself—like the inferno of hell, like the gaze of a death god or a demon.

True Death Eyes.

Even the mere sight of those eyes would send a chill down anyone’s spine.

“So what if you’re a Legendary mage? Anyone who dares stand in my way—even if it’s a god—I’ll kill them just the same!”

Alan clenched his fists, and in that moment, every ounce of mana in his body surged toward his pupils.

The true power of the True Death Eyes was finally beginning to manifest!

A short distance away, Claude, who had been watching the fight, fell to the ground in shock.

He sat up abruptly, his face pale and bewildered.

“Hey, Holmes… was that just my imagination, or did this kid just tap into the power of [Chaos]?”

Holmes stared intently at Alan. After a brief silence, he let out a chuckle.

“Heh… That boy. I didn’t expect him to be hiding such a trump card. He’s fooled us all.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not really a magus who commands just the six elements.”

“Huh?”

“He’s already mastered the seventh element—Chaos. If we go by historical classification, he should now be called…”

“Archmagus.”

“Arch…magus?!”

“That’s right. A mage ranked just below the King Magus is called an Archmagus. I can’t believe this kid is barely in his twenties, and he’s already stepped into the Archmagus tier.”

“Even the British Empire has trained a few magi in recent years, but most of them perished prematurely. Fewer than one in ten thousand ever reach the Archmagus realm.”

As they spoke, a towering golden light beam rose behind Alan, becoming even more magnificent.

It seemed to divide the very heavens and earth behind him. The ancient ruins around them couldn’t withstand such overwhelming mana, and spatial cracks began to form.

Then, that massive golden pillar of light tilted slightly, directly colliding with Bruce’s blood-red arrow.

Boom!

At the point of impact, a terrifying mana shockwave erupted and spread outward in all directions.

The blood arrow shattered instantly, crumbling into fragments of mana that rained down like meteorites.

The surviving attackers who had barely escaped the arrow’s path now began fleeing frantically in all directions.

Even though the arrow had been destroyed, its lingering energy waves were still powerful enough to kill them all.

As much as they loved money, their lives were still more important.

Alan, however, did not remain still after blocking the arrow.

Without hesitation, he brandished Lumen Sancta, his sacred blade, and charged up the light pillar, hurtling toward Bruce in the sky.

Bruce’s face remained expressionless. He raised his hand again and effortlessly halted Lumen Sancta’s blade with the tip of his pinky fingernail.

But Alan would not be so easily deterred.

He poured everything he had into his next move—mana Overpressure, mana Rupture, mana Edge, and what little vital energy remained—all were injected into Lumen Sancta.

This was his all-or-nothing strike. There was no more holding back.

“Light Sword Technique!”

With his strongest technique, Alan focused all his mana into a single strike.

He had come to understand that, when battling the powerful, there was no room for hesitation or conservation.

Even a lion goes all-out to hunt a rabbit.

Crack!

Bruce’s fingernail split with a sharp snap. Alan’s sword sliced clean through his pinky—and the next target was his heart.

But just as Alan’s blade was about to continue forward, something unexpected happened.

A flicker of light appeared beneath Bruce’s feet—it was a teleportation magic circle!

In the next instant, Bruce vanished and reappeared several hundred meters away.

Teleportation magic!

And it had no cast time!

Still, Bruce was far from unscathed. When he reappeared, his face was flushed red and his breathing had grown ragged.

Clearly, this short-range teleportation, which defied the rules of the world’s Origin, had cost him a tremendous amount of energy.

Seeing his prey escape at the last moment, Alan naturally couldn’t let him off so easily.

With the enhancing spells on his staff still active, he raised Lumen Sancta once more and charged toward Bruce again.

“Stop!”

A sudden voice echoed out as a figure tore open space and stepped out.

An elderly man in a crimson robe appeared, standing protectively in front of Bruce, clearly intending to intercept Alan’s attack.

But Bruce wasn’t the only one with reinforcements.

“Stop? The hell you mean stop? Alan, kill him!!”

Old Gayle arrived just as abruptly, stepping through space and appearing behind Alan.

He slammed a heavy hand on Alan’s shoulder and said coldly, “If you don’t kill him today, don’t expect dinner tonight.”

Alan had no time to entertain Gayle’s nonsense.

Until his staff saw blood, it would not return to its sheath.

The red-robed elder’s expression darkened visibly. He glared at Gayle with murderous intent.

“You senile bastard… are you looking to die?!”

With that, he struck out with his palm.

But this was no ordinary palm strike—dozens of magic arrays surged along the elder’s arm, powering the attack to its absolute limit.

Gayle, however, remained unbothered.

He casually pulled out a wine flask and took a sip, standing there as if nothing was happening.

Just as the red-robed elder reached him, he suddenly halted in disbelief.

“Impossible… How…? You’ve already… touched the limit of the Legendary tier?!”