Chapter 187: The End of Malgrath

Malgrath struggled against the invisible pressure crushing him into the ground.

Dark mana erupted around his limbs, reinforcing his muscles and bones. The stone beneath his boots continued to fracture, but the magic circle remained intact.

Elowen watched him through her emerald eyes.

Her Arcane Eyes traced every surge of mana within his body, following the compressed energy as it shifted between his limbs and torso.

Dreadforge was powerful.

But it demanded constant adjustments.

And those adjustments were precisely what she intended to exploit.

Malgrath’s right arm swelled with dark mana. He forced it upward, attempting to break the gravitational pressure.

Elowen’s fingers moved slightly.

The pressure shifted.

**BOOM!**

His arm slammed back against the fractured ground.

Malgrath gritted his teeth.

"You’re interfering with the reinforcement itself!"

"You’re beginning to understand."

Elowen’s expression remained indifferent.

"But understanding it won’t help you."

Malgrath’s eyes narrowed.

Dark mana surged violently from his body. The ground beneath him collapsed in several places as he forced more power into his limbs.

For a brief moment, the pressure weakened and his body rose several inches.

Elowen immediately adjusted the spell.

The circle brightened.

Malgrath was driven back down.

A sharp crack echoed beneath him.

He stared at her, his expression twisting with frustration.

"You’re a Peak Eighth Circle Mage. And you’re wasting your time restraining me?"

Elowen raised one hand.

"Who said I was wasting time?"

The emerald light around her eyes intensified.

A new magic circle formed above Malgrath.

Unlike Gravitic Bind, its structure was compact. Several intricate layers rotated around a single point, drawing mana into an increasingly concentrated mass.

Malgrath’s expression changed.

He recognized the danger immediately.

He tried to shift his reinforcement toward his head and chest, but Elowen’s Arcane Eyes followed the movement before the adjustment could finish.

She redirected the pressure once more.

His body remained pinned.

"Seventh Circle Spell."

Elowen’s voice was quiet.

"Arcane Rupture."

The magic circle released a concentrated surge of mana.

Rather than striking Malgrath’s reinforced exterior directly, Elowen compressed the spell’s mana into a narrow point and drove it through a gap in Dreadforge’s shifting layers. The intrusion disrupted the surrounding reinforcement before Malgrath could adjust it.

Malgrath’s eyes widened.

The dark coating around his chest flickered.

For the first time, Dreadforge failed to protect him where it mattered.

The concentrated blast struck.

**BOOM!**

Dust erupted across the training grounds.

The impact shook the broken pillars and sent fragments of stone scattering across the battlefield. The magic circle beneath Malgrath dimmed, then dissolved into fading emerald particles.

When the dust cleared, Malgrath lay motionless in the shattered depression.

A deep, ragged cavity had been torn through the center of his chest. The edges of the wound were blackened and uneven, as though the concentrated mana had ripped the flesh apart from within. Dark blood pooled beneath his body, seeping into the cracks of the ruined stone.

The dark mana surrounding him had vanished completely.

His eyes were open, but empty.

Elowen studied him for a moment, confirming that no residual mana remained.

Malgrath was dead.

Only then did she turn away.

Lucian.

She crossed the battlefield in an instant.

He lay several meters away, unconscious on the bloodstained stones. His severed right hand remained near the fallen sword, the fingers still wrapped around its hilt.

Blood covered his torn sleeve and the ground beneath him.

Elowen’s expression tightened.

She knelt beside him.

"Lucian. Can you hear me?"

There was no response.

She placed two fingers against his neck, feeling for his pulse.

It was weak.

Too weak.

Her gaze immediately returned to the stump above his right wrist. The bleeding had slowed somewhat, but it had not stopped completely.

She retrieved a healing potion from her storage ring and carefully poured a small amount between his lips.

Most of it went down, though some escaped the corner of his mouth.

"Come on," she murmured. "Stay with me."

She pressed her free hand over the wound and released a controlled stream of healing mana. The bleeding gradually slowed as the magic began stabilizing the damaged tissue.

The treatment was enough to stabilize him for transport. His severed hand was another matter—one she would have to deal with later.

First, she needed to get him somewhere safe.

Elowen continued channeling mana into the wound until his pulse grew steadier.

"You reckless boy."

There was no real anger in her voice.

Only restrained concern.

"You could have died."

She adjusted her grip beneath his shoulders, preparing to move him.

The academy was still in chaos. Screams and distant explosions continued to echo through the grounds, and she could sense other pockets of demonic mana scattered across the buildings.

There were still enemies to deal with.

But Lucian could not be left here.

Elowen lifted him carefully, taking care not to disturb the injured arm.

"Just hold on a little longer."

Then she disappeared from the ruined training grounds, carrying the unconscious Lucian away from the battlefield.

---

Far from the western training grounds, a communication crystal rested inside the pocket of a young woman wearing the face of Mara.

The crystal had gone dark after her previous conversation with the demon commander leading the academy assault.

Sephtis stood in a deserted corridor, listening to the distant screams and the growing sounds of battle.

Then the crystal glowed again.

She retrieved it and released a thread of mana.

A familiar voice emerged.

"Sephtis."

"I’m listening."

This time, the voice belonged to a high-ranking demon calling from Demonia itself.

"Listen carefully. Your orders have changed."

Sephtis remained silent.

"You are not to reveal your true identity during this attack. Do not join the fighting, and do not expose yourself to save the demons participating in the assault."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Even if the attack fails?"

"Especially if it fails."

The demon’s tone was cold.

"Most of the demons sent to Ambrose Academy will probably die. If you expose yourself trying to save them, we may lose our most valuable asset for nothing."

"So I am to abandon them."

"You are to complete your actual mission. Remain hidden. Preserve your identity. Use the chaos to prepare for what comes afterward."

Sephtis considered the order.

"Understood."

"Good. Do not contact me again unless the situation requires it."

The crystal dimmed.

Sephtis slipped it back into her pocket.

A faint smile appeared on Mara’s borrowed face.

She would not risk herself for a battle that might already be lost.

Instead, she would use the chaos to acquire something far more valuable.

A new identity.

One that could take her deeper into the Empire’s most influential circles.

Sephtis turned toward the approaching footsteps.

The academy’s corridors were filling with fleeing students, their faces twisted with fear and desperation.

She already knew which of them would be most useful.