Chapter 1013 - 236: Prajna’s Might Revealed

Chapter 1013: Chapter 236: Prajna’s Might Revealed

Master Jilani is already seventy-five years old this year. At this age, if you combine it with his prowess, among orthodox wizards, he would still be in his prime. Not talking about having several witches as bedmates, one would be embarrassed to go out and meet people.

However, Jilani appears as if he already has one foot in the grave, his face exposed from underneath the black robe, the skin on his hands is decayed like old tree bark.

Casters of the Fire Worship are different from the witches in Europe, their inheritance of extraordinary power is mostly unorganized, often stemming from the legacy left by predecessors. The power might be considerable, but using it once comes with a heavy price.

In fact, it is not that Sassan doesn’t have orthodox casters in service, but no one is willing to get involved in this caliber of warfare.

The longer one lives, the more they cherish their own life.

Expecting them to oppose Losa, who ascended by stepping over Shemir, the Legendary Master, and has recently risen like a comet as a new giant in the Extraordinary World, for the sake of mundane authority and wealth is obviously impossible.

Receiving Ali’s "order," or rather a request.

Jilani did not have any intention of refusing, he struggled slightly as he leaned on a magic staff topped with a gem resembling the "Saint Fire," stepping down from the carriage.

The young monk serving him attempted to assist him, but was gently pushed away.

He said to another elder sitting opposite him, "The demon of the Franks is formidable, with ever-emerging tricks. I can no longer wait any longer, but they surely still have tricks up their sleeves. Everything here is entrusted to you."

The elder sighed lightly, "Be careful."

Jilani grinned and said, "Having lived this long, I should have died a long time ago. At most, I’ll end up like Gamshid, leaving these old bones behind. I’m only worried that even if we all die here, we won’t be able to stop these enemies like wolves and tigers."

The "Gamshid" he referred to is the jurisprudence leader of Isfahan, who died in battle at the hands of the Tatars while defending Isfahan.

Both exchanged bitter smiles.

Perhaps, the Saint Fire that burned uninterrupted in Tarsus for a thousand years is indeed about to extinguish.

...

The Sassan army has reserves.

A competent Commander-in-Chief would never deploy all their resources in the early stages of the battle.

But the true elite reserve of the Sassan army is concentrated on both flanks, intended to play a decisive role at the most critical moment of the battle.

Located at the rear is merely a motley crew composed of Bedouin tribe riders, Turkmen cavalry, and Turkic mercenaries.

The first two are recruits provided by tribes under Sassan rule, while the Turkic mercenaries are the relocated populace that originally ruled Armenia, migrating eastward after the Ayyubid remnants invaded.

These lightly equipped cavalry are shabbily equipped, mostly wearing leather armor, felt armor or simple chain armor, sometimes not wearing any armor, just draping a woolen robe to block the wind.

The only advantage is their decent horseback archery skills, but hoping these people can stop the monster cavalry is just living in a dream.

They hurriedly galloped toward the tide-like, overwhelming Wild Hunt army, quickly halting their advance, and without hesitation followed their respective tribal leaders, abandoning the army and fleeing to the flanks.

They didn’t even bother to shoot a volley of arrows at the Wild Hunt army just for show!

"Cowards, bastards!"

On the elephant tower, Ali angrily slammed the iron railing in front of him. He lacks time now; as long as these people could stall the enemy for a moment, he would have the opportunity to deploy the flank reserves to the rear.

But there’s simply no time left.

"General, look, that seems to be Master Jilani!"

His attendant suddenly exclaimed, "By the Saint Fire, he actually went toward those monsters alone!"

In the boundless wilderness, a trembling elder appeared, leaning on a staff, facing the seemingly endless Wild Hunt army alone, an icy wind frosting his eyebrows.

The disparity between them is truly enormous.

The frail old man seemed as if even a hunting dog from the cavalry could kill him with a swipe.

Jilani struggled somewhat to kneel down, pressing one hand on the ground.

Flame-colored patterns rapidly spread outwards from his palm, as the terrifying Wild Hunt army enveloping eerie chill was about to engulf Jilani, boundless flames suddenly surged from beneath his feet, forming a flame wall stretching for kilometers.

All Wild Hunt that entered were instantly reduced to ashes without exception.

"It’s the Saint Fire, the Saint Fire has made an appearance!"

On the elephant tower, a survival-inspired delight appeared on Ali’s face, "No wonder Master Jilani is confident enough to deal with the Frankish demon dragon; with such might, burning the demon dragon of the Franks is not a problem!"

He knows that Master Jilani is an extraordinary being, but he never imagined that the frail old man contained such terrifying power within, even from a distance, he could feel that scorching heat.

"It’s won, it’s won!"

"Truly deserving of being Master Jilani!"

Compared to the excitement of others, Jilani’s face showed no hint of emotion, for the Wild Hunt army was nearly limitless. Each one charging into the flames caused the temperature of the flames to drop slightly.

Such a war of attrition is clearly not something Jilani’s frail old body can withstand.

His murky eyes ignited with two clusters of flames, seemingly able to see through the thousands of meters to the instigator behind the cold mist.

"Found you!"

"Let my broken body ignite the sacred flame!"

He murmured a phrase, and a scroll of parchment appeared out of thin air in his hand. On it, with ochre paint and gold powder, a vast star map was depicted.

This was the legacy left by the Sassanid scholar Ferdowsi, a star map dedicated at the Gondishapur Observatory, and it was an incomparably powerful Divine Artifact.

Jilani bit his finger and pointed at a bright spot on the star map. In the next moment, his dimming life’s fire seemed to unleash all its energy in the shortest instant, turning the entire star map golden.

Meanwhile, a red meteor quickly streaked across the sky, heading towards the distance.

This was the ultimate strike from Jilani, a caster nearing the Legendary Realm, sacrificing his life and using the Ferdowsi Star Map as a Divine Artifact. It touched the Power of Rules, and he believed that even a Legendary master would drink hatred under such an attack.

"Old partner, everything that follows is up to you."

Jilani’s eyes reflected the beautiful meteor, losing their last trace of brilliance.

This is the foundation of the Thousand-year Empire. Perhaps due to Bahram’s insufficient prestige, it cannot command at will, but there is a group of Extraordinary figures forever linked to this nation, willing to sacrifice their lives for it.

This is something the newly established Ayyubid Dynasty by Saladin absolutely cannot compare to.

...

In the distance.

Prajna in a white robe, with his fingertips stained with deep black ink, Latin letters leapt out, carrying a biting chill, transforming into warriors and hounds holding weapons on the open ground.

Prajna, in the Phase Two of Book Immortal, had regained the former identity of "Banished Immortal," with nearly limitless power. If serious, she alone could easily destroy a city.

A Banished Immortal is still an immortal, a Person even above Legendary.

Prajna, who was summoning the Wild Hunt army, suddenly raised his head, looking at the meteor summoned by Jilani, who exhausted his life from the star map. It was too fast, and an invisible force had frozen and locked the surrounding space, making it impossible to respond effectively.

But Prajna looked at the meteor so close, with an icy expression on his face without any stir, only the cold flame ignited in the calm black eyes. The white robe faded and turned into black as the horned demon reappeared on earth.

The huge Ghost Face Shield hovered in her hand.

Bang—

A wall of sigh from Greek mythology, isolating the land from the Netherworld, stretched across before them.

A terrifying meteor, carrying blazing fire, which swallowed all life and exhausted Jilani’s life, a formidable attack that even a Legendary would find hard to resist, burnt the black wall red but still could not cross the chasm.

"Strong enough!"

"Really strong enough!"

The ghost face relief on the wall roared happily.

Prajna, entering Phase Two, awakened the skill "Ghost Gate," and now the ghost face relief seemed to connect with Hell in this world, capable of drawing the power of the real Gate of Hell, its solidity unlike before, akin to an impenetrable wall.

That was why Losa felt confident letting her act alone. As a summoner, a fragile profession, she only needed a moment to switch back to her original profession, possessing the strongest defense capability of the Six-Star Heavy Iron Guard!

Boom—

The meteor exploded, and the terrifying flames all blasted against Prajna’s Ghost Face Shield.

"Hot hot hot, it’s burning me!"

"Quick, take me back! I’m done!"

The ghost face relief let out a roar of terror, but Prajna was unmoved; pain was certain, being sealed as this shield’s Artifact Spirit was a punishment for this ghost face relief.

"Shut up, open the Ghost Gate with me, and lead this power into Hell!"

The enemy’s strategy was high, locking the space where Prajna was. Once all this energy exploded in this space without a way to vent, regardless of her strong defense, she could still be severely damaged.

For a long time.

The flames gradually dissipated.

The pitch-black Ghost Face Shield returned to Prajna’s hand, looking at it; not a single crack or scar could be seen, yet the ghost face relief screamed as if about to shatter.

She ignored the strange screams of the ghost face relief, waved her hand, and it dissipated, transforming back into the Anomaly state of the Book Immortal.

Being attacked, not retaliating was clearly not an option.

She pondered for a moment...

The Sassanids seemed to have been waiting for the Demon Dragon.

So give them the Demon Dragon then.

This time, Prajna was clearly serious, not using her fingertips to ink but taking a brush to outline the image of a huge entity, an illustration from the Song of Winter and Summer.

A black Demon Dragon named Drogon!