Journey to Become the Zenith

After buying what he needed, Victor and his party headed out. The last sighting of the Ashgrey wolves, was at the path in the grasslands where the merchants usually pass by coming from Helios City to west.

Stone gave way to wind.

The road stretched through tall grass that rolled like green waves beneath the late sun, whispering with every gust. The merchant path cut a pale scar through the plains, wagon ruts hardened by years of trade... and stained, perhaps, by blood.

Clara to his right.

The mood had shifted.

This was approach.

The grasslands felt strangely alive.

Too quiet.

Clara noticed it first.

Victor nodded.

Lane’s hand hovered near her bow.

She trusted Victor.

Especially not when walking into a beast clan’s domain.

Victor stopped.

Wind moved his black hair.

He felt it.

Not by sight.

Movement in the mana currents.

His mouth curved faintly.

Clara stiffened.

Victor didn’t look back.

Lane felt it a heartbeat later.

Like the plains themselves were holding breath.

Far off.

Fast.

Too many.

Clara’s jaw tightened instantly.

But she stopped herself.

Arguing would do nothing.

Part of her wanted to see what he meant by "new things."

Only nodded once.

Absolute obedience.

A quiet thrill stirred.

And somehow natural.

Clara muttered under her breath,

Victor half-smiled.

Seeing that no one said anything else, Victor walked towards the incoming Ashgrey wolves. From a distance since it was a wide open grassland, you could see that their were dozens of Ashgrey Wolves running towards Victor. It would seem that they numbered around thirty or so Ashgrey Wolves. This was a large pack, which made Victor even more excited.

Not from magic.

Thirty monstrous shapes surged forward through the grass.

Burning eyes.

And among them—

Larger.

Flames danced faintly around its jaws.

Clara inhaled sharply.

Victor only grinned.

As the wolves were getting closer, Victor raised his left hand up. Four magic circles suddenly formed in the surrounding air and began rotating as they grew larger and larger. This was one of the things he learned from the people in his visions. Spells didn’t need chants, all you needed was the knowledge of how to weave mana, and a bit of imagination. As long as you’re able to control the mana flow properly, you won’t need the assistance of the elements. This was a new form of spell casting.

Gold.

Silver.

No chants.

Only will.

Clara’s eyes widened.

Lane whispered,

Victor’s left hand descended.

Shortly thereafter, Victor lowered his his left arm with vigor. Dozens upon dozens of electrified sword looking objects rained out of the magic circles to causing wonderful sound of explosions, burning the grass with a majority of the Ashgrey Wolves.

One.

Fifty.

The plains erupted.

Flames roared upward.

Beasts howled.

Earth cratered.

And more like war.

"That... was instant casting..."

Lane stared almost reverently.

Untouched.

Seeing that some Ashgrey Wolves were able to survive, Victor was excited to try another spell. He snapped his fingers and five medium sized magic circles appeared in front of him. Out of the magic circles came icy frost.

Five circles opened.

The icy frost that came out of the magic circles stopped the flames from burning, no it made the grass and the flames freeze over. The Ashgrey Wolves were able to survive this, but there movements have dulled, all except for the Arcane Ashgrey wolf, which used a spell to surround itself with flame.

Grass froze mid-burn.

The surviving beasts stumbled.

Breath smoked.

Its eyes locked onto Victor.

Hatred.

Victor laughed softly.

Seeing that the wolves were getting closer, Victor readied his spear with a smile on his face. Victor then dashed forward on the now icy plain. Victor held the spear in his right hand, and threw it. As Victor was throwing the spear he added a spin to the throw and released it. The moment the spear was thrown it turned into something that looked like a tornado and hit the Ashgrey Wolves that were near him.

The icy field cracked under his step.

Release.

Rotating faster and faster—

It smashed into the front ranks.

Blood misted.

Clara whispered in disbelief,

No.

Victor caught the returning spear.

Flowing.