The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 118

Gradually, Alavin fell into a state of deep focus, wholeheartedly immersed in his training. However, it wasn't long before that group of peple found a new way to deal with Alavin.

"Alavin!" Odell called out, craning his neck as he pushed open the iron door to the storeroom, waving a list in his hand. "Delivery! Hurry up with the delivery!"

Alavin was sitting cross-legged on a stone bench, practicing the Restoration Mantra, regulating his breath.

"Alavin! Are you bloody deaf?" Odell hollered, but he didn't dare step into the storeroom. This madman had grown increasingly formidable, and even bested Galos in combat. If it weren't for the Grand Elder's Protégés arranging this, he wouldn't have wanted to come.

Alavin continued his practice, showing no intention of acknowledging him.

Odell, still waving the list, said, "Starting today, your delivery load has increased fivefold, including morning, afternoon, and evening. The Overseer has spoken; as a servant, you do what servants do. Do you hear me? Here's the list, I'm leaving it here, and if it's not done by nightfall, there'll be hell to pay. I'm talking to you, you..."

Suddenly, Alavin opened his eyes, and Odell's shouting came to an abrupt halt, though he tried to maintain his composure. "You better get moving and stop dawdling."

"Odell." Alavin looked at Odell expressionlessly.

"What do you want? Keep it together, no rash moves!"

"Go have a good meal."

"What?"

Alavin ignored him further, closing his eyes to continue his mantra, disregarding the list.

By evening, Odell stormed into the storeroom, fuming, "Alavin, have you lost your mind? Why haven't you made the deliveries? Ah!! Why!!"

Alavin glanced at the sky, stretched his neck, moved his body, and then stood up from the stone bench.

"What are you doing!" Odell felt a sense of dread; was this man going to hit him?

Alavin stepped towards Odell. "Have you eaten well?"

"What's it to you?"

"We haven't had a good spar in over half a year."

Odell backed away, holding onto the iron door. "What do you mean? What are you trying to do? Alavin, don't come any closer. I warn you, I... Alavin... Ah..."

That very night, Odell disappeared!

No one noticed the first day, but by the second, they started searching everywhere. On the third day, they found him.

Odell had been buried alive! He was buried at the foot of a small hillock, and only his head was exposed, mouth gagged, barely clinging to life. If not for their timely discovery, he might have actually died.

Odell, crazed with thoughts of revenge against Alavin, vanished again that very night.

The other stewards searched through every hill and found Odell at the bottom of a deep well, hanging by a rope amidst venomous snakes. When Odell was pulled up, he had nearly lost his soul,

dazed and unable to speak. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

"Rebellion!" The Overseer of Cobalt Strike bellowed in rage, ordering Alavin to be confined for two months!

Alavin packed his belongings simply, locking the storeroom's iron door, and voluntarily went to the underground dungeon of Cobalt Strike. After that, he vanished from everyone's sight.

That was precisely the result Alavin desired. Rather than being harassed daily, he preferred a place to practice in peace.

With the Restoration Mantra to sustain him, he could practice unaffected by the environment, making a day's worth of practice equal to two or three, an advantage other Protégés certainly didn't have.

In the dark cell, Alavin cast aside all distractions, wholeheartedly immersing himself in practice. He trained fiercely in the arts of the Indigo Viper and the Earthtorrent Greatblade, as well as the Goliath Force, doing everything he could to break through to Stage VII.

However...

After more than ten days, Alavin noticed a problem.

Breaking through to Stage VII was proving harder than anticipated. At the end of the Great Hunt, he had already reached the pinnacle of Stage VII, but after twenty days of practice, there was no movement, no sign of a breakthrough. At this rate, a breakthrough in the short term seemed unlikely.

Alavin had five magical ores hidden on his person. Should he use them to force the progression? Impossible, unless it was a very special spirit item, like the Voilet Thistle, it would be difficult to

induce a breakthrough. Relying on spirit items for successive breakthroughs could lead to an unstable foundation, affecting future growth potential.

"Only eighteen days left until The Clash of Eight Orders."

Alavin sat in the shadows, deep in thought. Even if he treated the next eighteen days as over a month, a breakthrough would be difficult.

"What could I do?"

Alavin had considered practicing the second form of the Grand Arcanum of the Blade, but after trying for three days, he couldn't decipher a single word; the second form was simply not Combat Magic he could practice at his current stage.

"What else do I have?"

Then, Alavin remembered the Shadowbringer.

The old man had warned him not to practice it before becoming an Advanced Mage, but Alavin now desperately needed strength and more life-saving techniques. He sought not only a breakthrough in his realm but also growth in strength. Only then could he hope to achieve anything in The Clash of Eight Orders.

Shadowbringer! It had to be you!