Chapter 122
*Crescent Island*
"How many do you have?" the fire mage asked excitedly. He wore segmented armor that allowed him to maintain his agility. Moments earlier, his signature move—Dragon's Tail—had destroyed several persistent dark spirits.
"Seventeen," the other mage replied briefly, covering his comrade's back.
"Two more than me?!" the first mage exclaimed in surprise, nearly missing a sting from a giant purple bee-like creature. But the more taciturn warrior reacted just in time, launching a fireball at the spirit.
"Eighteen," he added, his voice carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk.
"Don't get too smug. I'll catch up soon," the first mage grumbled, turning away.
Soon, a fiery projectile soared overhead, creating a massive explosion upon contact with the water.
"Do they have time to fire trebuchets at us?" many wondered. As far as they knew, nearly all the ships were engaged in direct combat. Perhaps they should thank the spirits for the chaos.
Seconds later, a figure emerged from the water—none other than Van, completely naked. Whether intentional or not, everyone's attention lingered on his, erm, *assets* for a moment, which seemed to glimmer in the light. His movements even seemed to hypnotize the onlookers. A couple of female warriors were momentarily distracted, and several other fire mages struggled to focus on their techniques.
"Can we unsee that?" a dozen warriors asked simultaneously, having witnessed, well, Van's "immense power."
In the next moment, he flew toward the waiting Sages, whose eyes now burned with hatred. They dreamed of finally ending the man who, despite seemingly fatal wounds, kept returning unscathed.