Chapter 195: 195 – The Whip Of Certain Death
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"Bastards forcing me to do this," Mallark roared, he released the spear in his hand as two strange symbols on his hands lit up.
Mallark brought his hands together as he felt the swords of his enemies break through his armour and pierce into his body.
When he brought his hands together a strange light surrounded him and teleported him away from the attack, but it didn't take him very far.
Mallark fell to the ground as blood gushed out from his wounds, "Mother Fucking saints," Mallark cursed as he tried to supress the laws that were clawing into his body.
Mallark was a warlock, as a warlock his forte was not close combat, fighting pugilist's was hard enough, because of their unparalleled destructive power, but saints were the worst, when they attack with laws, it was no different from being cut with a poisoned blade.
Mallark's only solace was that as a warlock he could supress and get rid of the laws clawing into his flesh, but he'd need time to do that.
As he got back to his feet he discovered that he was already found by the zealots, "Who the fuck trained so many second accord zealots," he cursed with a fiery temper.
Zealots were disposable pawns to all powers, so no one would ever waste the resources to create a second accord cultivator on someone disposable, yet now he discovered that he was facing three of them, on some level he began to suspect that this group was simply disguising themselves as zealots, but they belonged to real powers.
The first zealot he faced was definitely out of the picture, if someone's domain was broken they would receive a serious backlash, which put one person out of the fight for now, then there were the two saints that attacked him right after exiting the domain, and he couldn't be certain that there weren't more lurking about.
Mallark brought his hands back together like a buddha as energy began to build up in his hands, then he pulled his hands apart to reveal a small black ball that started to stretch out like a snake.
Edith watched closely and was startled as she could vaguely see even the rays of sunlight bending towards the black snakelike object, it resembled an abyss of darkness and Edith wondered what exactly the spell was that Mallark was using.
It stretched until it was over a hundred feet long and then it began to thin until it was the width of a rope, the black rope soon floated to Mallark's hands and he grasped it like a whip.
As he finished preparing his spell the zealots appeared, it was the same two from earlier and they began to brandish their swords, releasing hundreds of sword beams at Mallark at the same time they charged forward closing the gap between them and Mallark.
"Ha," Mallark snapped the black whip in his hands to intercept the gigantic sword energies and as they met the fragile looking black whip an astonishing sight occurred.
The sword attacks looked like they hit water and got sucked into the whip by an uncontrollable suction force.
The saints halted their footsteps as they witnessed the sight of their attacks being devoured, but they didn't get the chance to think before Mallark snapped the whip and several hundred bodies of light shot out from the whip in their direction.
The saints recognized the energy in the attack, it was their own sword beams that were coming back at them, so with a quick flip of their hands they dispersed the sword beams, but just as they thought that they won the whip snapped again.
It shot forward hiding behind the sword lights and like a venomous snake it darted at the saints, the first saint didn't even know what hit him as the whip struck him in the chest and went through his back, in just seconds he got crushed by the compressive force hidden within the whip.
The second saint noticed the whip in time to see it pierce through his partner and dart at him, he tried to surround his hand with energy to block the whip but the whip pushed through the energy barrier with ease, and the saint let out a pained scream as he felt his arm being torn from his body.
The saint knew that if he let things continue his entire body would be sucked in, a look of determination flashed through his eyes, the saint raised his sword and cut through his arm.
As he saw his arm disappear the saint leapt back and a trail of blood blossomed on the ground from where he lost his arm to his current position, he panted heavily and looked at Mallark's black whip with a look of apprehension in his eyes.
"Hahaha," Mallark laughed loudly, "What's the matter, don't you want the prince candidate, why are you suddenly so scared!" he mocked the zealot with a gloating voice while gripping tightly onto the black whip.
"If your going to run away then you can have this back," Mallark snapped the whip and two tiny pellets shot out of the black whip they travelled so fast that they created a scorch trail in their path and cut two extremely deep ravines into the earth, blasting every thing in their path to splinters.
The other zealot wisely chose to dodge the attacks and once they came to a halt the only thing he could see were two tiny pellets, he looked back at Mallark with a bewildered look in his eyes.
"You don't recognise them huh?" Mallark asked with a barking laugh, "The first one is your friend that I just killed, the second one is your arm," Mallark mocked as he revealed the true power of his whip.
It would suck whatever it came into contact with before compressing it and spitting it back out, it was the power of a truly powerful warlock, while it was obvious that Mallark didn't practice much in other spells it was clear that he had achieved a mastery over one of the hardest types of nature's to master, space.
Just as Mallark was mocking the saint, another two figures came flying in the air, garbed in the same black zealot uniform, and from the aura the one in the lead was emitting Mallark could tell that she was the leader of the group.
The person who appeared was the one the zealot's referred to as Number 1, earlier when she noticed how many of the elites were surrounding Lirian she knew that it would be almost impossible to win the battle, so she came up with a plan to split up the group.
She sent seven of Telamons second accord zealots into the main battle to draw out the main elites and it worked perfectly, leaving her with only a single obstacle to kill Lirian.
She sent one of the zealots after the other target Telamon gave them and trailed after Mallark with the remaining five.
She thought that she estimated the power of the great families elites accurately, she was constantly overestimating them in her evaluation but she still failed to judge accurately.
She looked at Mallark with a deep gaze, despite being trapped and cornered he came out on top every time, she finally understood what it meant to be an elite after watching Mallark's battle.
Despite being outnumbered and out maneuverer, their mage was out of the battle after his domain was broken, then they lost one saint while the other was severely injured, she hated to admit it but despite all her overestimations she still underestimated her opponents.
All she had left was herself and one pugilist, but her greatest concern was the other battlefield if the other elites were only half as good as the man she was facing now, she feared that the battle on the other side wouldn't last for long and at that time this mission would end in a complete failure.
She looked down at Mallark from the sky and spoke confidently, "Our only target is the prince candidate, give him to us and we'll walk away, there is no need for you to die on the account of some arrogant child that thinks himself above everyone else," she said trying to reason with Mallark.
As a warlock herself she could tell how draining the whip was on Mallark's energy reserve's, based on her observation Mallark didn't have much time before he would run out of energy. So, it was a logical decision for him to save himself and give up Lirian in this situation.
"Arrogant and thinks himself above everyone else," Mallark mused as he thought back to how Lirian spoke to all the elites when they saved him, in fact he didn't even offer a word of thanks, Mallark released a dry chuckle, "I won't say you're wrong about that, but if I had even half as much talent as that boy I would be the same," Mallark laughed.
"If you are so sure of your victory, then stop wasting time and come at me," he roared and started to spin the whip it spun around Mallark like a vortex of death that would destroy all who approached.
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"Bastards forcing me to do this," Mallark roared, he released the spear in his hand as two strange symbols on his hands lit up.
Mallark brought his hands together as he felt the swords of his enemies break through his armour and pierce into his body.
When he brought his hands together a strange light surrounded him and teleported him away from the attack, but it didn't take him very far.
Mallark fell to the ground as blood gushed out from his wounds, "Mother Fucking saints," Mallark cursed as he tried to supress the laws that were clawing into his body.
Mallark was a warlock, as a warlock his forte was not close combat, fighting pugilist's was hard enough, because of their unparalleled destructive power, but saints were the worst, when they attack with laws, it was no different from being cut with a poisoned blade.
Mallark's only solace was that as a warlock he could supress and get rid of the laws clawing into his flesh, but he'd need time to do that.
As he got back to his feet he discovered that he was already found by the zealots, "Who the fuck trained so many second accord zealots," he cursed with a fiery temper.
Zealots were disposable pawns to all powers, so no one would ever waste the resources to create a second accord cultivator on someone disposable, yet now he discovered that he was facing three of them, on some level he began to suspect that this group was simply disguising themselves as zealots, but they belonged to real powers.
The first zealot he faced was definitely out of the picture, if someone's domain was broken they would receive a serious backlash, which put one person out of the fight for now, then there were the two saints that attacked him right after exiting the domain, and he couldn't be certain that there weren't more lurking about.
Mallark brought his hands back together like a buddha as energy began to build up in his hands, then he pulled his hands apart to reveal a small black ball that started to stretch out like a snake.
Edith watched closely and was startled as she could vaguely see even the rays of sunlight bending towards the black snakelike object, it resembled an abyss of darkness and Edith wondered what exactly the spell was that Mallark was using.
It stretched until it was over a hundred feet long and then it began to thin until it was the width of a rope, the black rope soon floated to Mallark's hands and he grasped it like a whip.
As he finished preparing his spell the zealots appeared, it was the same two from earlier and they began to brandish their swords, releasing hundreds of sword beams at Mallark at the same time they charged forward closing the gap between them and Mallark.
"Ha," Mallark snapped the black whip in his hands to intercept the gigantic sword energies and as they met the fragile looking black whip an astonishing sight occurred.
The sword attacks looked like they hit water and got sucked into the whip by an uncontrollable suction force.
The saints halted their footsteps as they witnessed the sight of their attacks being devoured, but they didn't get the chance to think before Mallark snapped the whip and several hundred bodies of light shot out from the whip in their direction.
The saints recognized the energy in the attack, it was their own sword beams that were coming back at them, so with a quick flip of their hands they dispersed the sword beams, but just as they thought that they won the whip snapped again.
It shot forward hiding behind the sword lights and like a venomous snake it darted at the saints, the first saint didn't even know what hit him as the whip struck him in the chest and went through his back, in just seconds he got crushed by the compressive force hidden within the whip.
The second saint noticed the whip in time to see it pierce through his partner and dart at him, he tried to surround his hand with energy to block the whip but the whip pushed through the energy barrier with ease, and the saint let out a pained scream as he felt his arm being torn from his body.
The saint knew that if he let things continue his entire body would be sucked in, a look of determination flashed through his eyes, the saint raised his sword and cut through his arm.
As he saw his arm disappear the saint leapt back and a trail of blood blossomed on the ground from where he lost his arm to his current position, he panted heavily and looked at Mallark's black whip with a look of apprehension in his eyes.
"Hahaha," Mallark laughed loudly, "What's the matter, don't you want the prince candidate, why are you suddenly so scared!" he mocked the zealot with a gloating voice while gripping tightly onto the black whip.
"If your going to run away then you can have this back," Mallark snapped the whip and two tiny pellets shot out of the black whip they travelled so fast that they created a scorch trail in their path and cut two extremely deep ravines into the earth, blasting every thing in their path to splinters.
The other zealot wisely chose to dodge the attacks and once they came to a halt the only thing he could see were two tiny pellets, he looked back at Mallark with a bewildered look in his eyes.
"You don't recognise them huh?" Mallark asked with a barking laugh, "The first one is your friend that I just killed, the second one is your arm," Mallark mocked as he revealed the true power of his whip.
It would suck whatever it came into contact with before compressing it and spitting it back out, it was the power of a truly powerful warlock, while it was obvious that Mallark didn't practice much in other spells it was clear that he had achieved a mastery over one of the hardest types of nature's to master, space.
Just as Mallark was mocking the saint, another two figures came flying in the air, garbed in the same black zealot uniform, and from the aura the one in the lead was emitting Mallark could tell that she was the leader of the group.
The person who appeared was the one the zealot's referred to as Number 1, earlier when she noticed how many of the elites were surrounding Lirian she knew that it would be almost impossible to win the battle, so she came up with a plan to split up the group.
She sent seven of Telamons second accord zealots into the main battle to draw out the main elites and it worked perfectly, leaving her with only a single obstacle to kill Lirian.
She sent one of the zealots after the other target Telamon gave them and trailed after Mallark with the remaining five.
She thought that she estimated the power of the great families elites accurately, she was constantly overestimating them in her evaluation but she still failed to judge accurately.
She looked at Mallark with a deep gaze, despite being trapped and cornered he came out on top every time, she finally understood what it meant to be an elite after watching Mallark's battle.
Despite being outnumbered and out maneuverer, their mage was out of the battle after his domain was broken, then they lost one saint while the other was severely injured, she hated to admit it but despite all her overestimations she still underestimated her opponents.
All she had left was herself and one pugilist, but her greatest concern was the other battlefield if the other elites were only half as good as the man she was facing now, she feared that the battle on the other side wouldn't last for long and at that time this mission would end in a complete failure.
She looked down at Mallark from the sky and spoke confidently, "Our only target is the prince candidate, give him to us and we'll walk away, there is no need for you to die on the account of some arrogant child that thinks himself above everyone else," she said trying to reason with Mallark.
As a warlock herself she could tell how draining the whip was on Mallark's energy reserve's, based on her observation Mallark didn't have much time before he would run out of energy. So, it was a logical decision for him to save himself and give up Lirian in this situation.
"Arrogant and thinks himself above everyone else," Mallark mused as he thought back to how Lirian spoke to all the elites when they saved him, in fact he didn't even offer a word of thanks, Mallark released a dry chuckle, "I won't say you're wrong about that, but if I had even half as much talent as that boy I would be the same," Mallark laughed.
"If you are so sure of your victory, then stop wasting time and come at me," he roared and started to spin the whip it spun around Mallark like a vortex of death that would destroy all who approached.
"Bastards forcing me to do this," Mallark roared, he released the spear in his hand as two strange symbols on his hands lit up. Mallark brought his hands together as he felt the swords of his enemies break through his armour and pierce into his body. When he brought his hands together a strange light surrounded him and teleported him away from the attack, but it didn't take him very far. Mallark fell to the ground as blood gushed out from his wounds, "Mother Fucking saints," Mallark cursed as he tried to supress the laws that were clawing into his body. Mallark was a warlock, as a warlock his forte was not close combat, fighting pugilist's was hard enough, because of their unparalleled destructive power, but saints were the worst, when they attack with laws, it was no different from being cut with a poisoned blade. Mallark's only solace was that as a warlock he could supress and get rid of the laws clawing into his flesh, but he'd need time to do that. As he got back to his feet he discovered that he was already found by the zealots, "Who the fuck trained so many second accord zealots," he cursed with a fiery temper. Zealots were disposable pawns to all powers, so no one would ever waste the resources to create a second accord cultivator on someone disposable, yet now he discovered that he was facing three of them, on some level he began to suspect that this group was simply disguising themselves as zealots, but they belonged to real powers. The first zealot he faced was definitely out of the picture, if someone's domain was broken they would receive a serious backlash, which put one person out of the fight for now, then there were the two saints that attacked him right after exiting the domain, and he couldn't be certain that there weren't more lurking about. Mallark brought his hands back together like a buddha as energy began to build up in his hands, then he pulled his hands apart to reveal a small black ball that started to stretch out like a snake. Edith watched closely and was startled as she could vaguely see even the rays of sunlight bending towards the black snakelike object, it resembled an abyss of darkness and Edith wondered what exactly the spell was that Mallark was using. It stretched until it was over a hundred feet long and then it began to thin until it was the width of a rope, the black rope soon floated to Mallark's hands and he grasped it like a whip. As he finished preparing his spell the zealots appeared, it was the same two from earlier and they began to brandish their swords, releasing hundreds of sword beams at Mallark at the same time they charged forward closing the gap between them and Mallark. "Ha," Mallark snapped the black whip in his hands to intercept the gigantic sword energies and as they met the fragile looking black whip an astonishing sight occurred. The sword attacks looked like they hit water and got sucked into the whip by an uncontrollable suction force. The saints halted their footsteps as they witnessed the sight of their attacks being devoured, but they didn't get the chance to think before Mallark snapped the whip and several hundred bodies of light shot out from the whip in their direction. The saints recognized the energy in the attack, it was their own sword beams that were coming back at them, so with a quick flip of their hands they dispersed the sword beams, but just as they thought that they won the whip snapped again. It shot forward hiding behind the sword lights and like a venomous snake it darted at the saints, the first saint didn't even know what hit him as the whip struck him in the chest and went through his back, in just seconds he got crushed by the compressive force hidden within the whip. The second saint noticed the whip in time to see it pierce through his partner and dart at him, he tried to surround his hand with energy to block the whip but the whip pushed through the energy barrier with ease, and the saint let out a pained scream as he felt his arm being torn from his body. The saint knew that if he let things continue his entire body would be sucked in, a look of determination flashed through his eyes, the saint raised his sword and cut through his arm. As he saw his arm disappear the saint leapt back and a trail of blood blossomed on the ground from where he lost his arm to his current position, he panted heavily and looked at Mallark's black whip with a look of apprehension in his eyes. "Hahaha," Mallark laughed loudly, "What's the matter, don't you want the prince candidate, why are you suddenly so scared!" he mocked the zealot with a gloating voice while gripping tightly onto the black whip. "If your going to run away then you can have this back," Mallark snapped the whip and two tiny pellets shot out of the black whip they travelled so fast that they created a scorch trail in their path and cut two extremely deep ravines into the earth, blasting every thing in their path to splinters. The other zealot wisely chose to dodge the attacks and once they came to a halt the only thing he could see were two tiny pellets, he looked back at Mallark with a bewildered look in his eyes. "You don't recognise them huh?" Mallark asked with a barking laugh, "The first one is your friend that I just killed, the second one is your arm," Mallark mocked as he revealed the true power of his whip. It would suck whatever it came into contact with before compressing it and spitting it back out, it was the power of a truly powerful warlock, while it was obvious that Mallark didn't practice much in other spells it was clear that he had achieved a mastery over one of the hardest types of nature's to master, space. Just as Mallark was mocking the saint, another two figures came flying in the air, garbed in the same black zealot uniform, and from the aura the one in the lead was emitting Mallark could tell that she was the leader of the group. The person who appeared was the one the zealot's referred to as Number 1, earlier when she noticed how many of the elites were surrounding Lirian she knew that it would be almost impossible to win the battle, so she came up with a plan to split up the group. She sent seven of Telamons second accord zealots into the main battle to draw out the main elites and it worked perfectly, leaving her with only a single obstacle to kill Lirian. She sent one of the zealots after the other target Telamon gave them and trailed after Mallark with the remaining five. She thought that she estimated the power of the great families elites accurately, she was constantly overestimating them in her evaluation but she still failed to judge accurately. She looked at Mallark with a deep gaze, despite being trapped and cornered he came out on top every time, she finally understood what it meant to be an elite after watching Mallark's battle. Despite being outnumbered and out maneuverer, their mage was out of the battle after his domain was broken, then they lost one saint while the other was severely injured, she hated to admit it but despite all her overestimations she still underestimated her opponents. All she had left was herself and one pugilist, but her greatest concern was the other battlefield if the other elites were only half as good as the man she was facing now, she feared that the battle on the other side wouldn't last for long and at that time this mission would end in a complete failure. She looked down at Mallark from the sky and spoke confidently, "Our only target is the prince candidate, give him to us and we'll walk away, there is no need for you to die on the account of some arrogant child that thinks himself above everyone else," she said trying to reason with Mallark. As a warlock herself she could tell how draining the whip was on Mallark's energy reserve's, based on her observation Mallark didn't have much time before he would run out of energy. So, it was a logical decision for him to save himself and give up Lirian in this situation. "Arrogant and thinks himself above everyone else," Mallark mused as he thought back to how Lirian spoke to all the elites when they saved him, in fact he didn't even offer a word of thanks, Mallark released a dry chuckle, "I won't say you're wrong about that, but if I had even half as much talent as that boy I would be the same," Mallark laughed. "If you are so sure of your victory, then stop wasting time and come at me," he roared and started to spin the whip it spun around Mallark like a vortex of death that would destroy all who approached.
