Chapter 110: The Aftermath

Damian stood upon the Longtian Sword several hundred meters above Moonveil Forest and stared down at the absolute disaster he had created.

The glade no longer existed, and neither did a rather impressive amount of the forest surrounding it.

An enormous crater glowed beneath the night sky while fires spread outward through the flattened woodland, and smoke rolled upward in thick columns that were still hot enough to make the air shimmer even from Damian’s ridiculous altitude.

"...Yeah."

Damian slowly covered his face with one hand.

"Trouble is definitely coming."

This was exactly why he hadn’t started the fight by teleporting two hundred meters upward and dropping a Grandmaster <Fireball> on Ravelhorn’s head!

It wasn’t because Damian possessed some strange warrior pride demanding that every strong enemy receive a fair duel.

Fuck no!

If Damian could murder somebody safely from three counties away while they were sitting on the toilet, he would consider that excellent tactical planning!

Every actual fight contained risk.

One unlucky strike, one hidden ability, one underestimated artifact, one enemy turning out to be considerably stronger than their supposed CR rating...

Hell, Ravelhorn himself had already demonstrated the problem perfectly!

Damian could possess thirty plus points in Attributes, twenty-seven Feats and enough supernatural bullshit to make a normal person file a balance complaint, but none of that prevented him from capsizing in the gutter because he became arrogant at the wrong moment.

Death did not care whether you had an impressive Character Sheet.

Sometimes you simply died before understanding what killed you.

That had actually been one of the secondary reasons Damian chose Mage in the first place and continued investing so heavily into offensive magic afterward.

Why walk toward the dragon when you could bomb the dragon?

Why politely enter sword range when your Class specifically provided tools designed to ruin someone’s afternoon from several hundred meters away?

Ravelhorn’s original Master-tier form had simply been useful.

Damian wanted combat experience, wanted to test Longtian, wanted to properly use <Seven-Turn Sword> and needed opportunities to understand how his increasingly ridiculous collection of powers actually worked together.

Then Mirelle died and Ravelhorn transformed into some super-Fey final boss before crossing directly into the Legend tier.

At that point?

Experiment over!

Damian had watched enough anime to know what happened when ridiculously powerful villains stared at a transforming enemy and politely waited for Phase Two to finish because they wanted to see what happened.

Frieza, Aizen, and countless arrogant bastards across fiction had done that kind of nonsense, and see where it got them?

Damian Baines would not be joining the club!

The moment <Divine Sense> told him Ravelhorn had become stronger than Ao Longtian, Damian grabbed Alfaro, went vertical and converted his final Level 5 Mage Spell Slot into a tactical nuclear disagreement.

Simple!

Damian looked downward again.

"I really doubt he survived that."

And if the bastard somehow had?

Well...

He was probably having a very poor evening.

Unfortunately, Damian had another problem demanding his attention.

Menus!

A stack of translucent notifications had been patiently waiting within his vision since the explosion.

Damian’s expression immediately brightened.

"Oh?"

Now this was important!

He adjusted the unconscious Alfaro beneath his left arm, stabilized Longtian under his feet and opened the first screen.

[Battle Concluded.]

[Combat Evaluation in Progress...]

Damian waited.

The Valorian Overworld System took noticeably longer than usual, and that alone interested him.

Then the notifications updated.

[Combat Evaluation Complete.]

[First confirmed defeat of a Legend-tier hostile while Host remains within the Adept Stage: +20 EXP.]

Damian’s eyebrows rose.

Twenty from one condition?!

The next line appeared.

[Victory achieved against an enemy exceeding Host’s current Overall Level by approximately one full recognized progression stage: +12 EXP.]

[First verified offensive spell output judged within the Neo Legend combat bracket while Host remains below Legend: +10 EXP.]

[First victory against an enemy who underwent successful stage advancement during active hostile engagement: +8 EXP.]

[Successful solo victory utilizing multiple disciplines within one continuous engagement: +6 EXP.]

[Total Experience Points Awarded: 56.]

[Experience Points: 93/132.]

Damian whistled.

"Fifty-six..."

That was huge!

His Willowbank Front slaughter had included eighty-two Body Tempering cultivators, two Qi Condensation enemies and enough destruction to qualify as battlefield artillery, yet even that nightmare had awarded far less Experience.

But the logic made sense.

The Valorian Overworld System had never rewarded corpse quantity particularly generously.

It cared about accomplishments, meaningful growth, novelty, and danger.

Apparently defeating a newly advanced Legend while still sitting at Overall Level 11 registered as the supernatural equivalent of submitting a dissertation written in enemy blood.

And honestly?

Fair enough!

Damian hadn’t suffered through some inspirational training arc to achieve it.

There had been no friendship speech nor any desperate breakthrough at one percent health.

He had simply possessed an absurd build, fought intelligently, then realized his opponent had entered a weight class he no longer felt like boxing and dropped a bomb on him.

The Valorian Overworld System apparently did not care whether the victory had been narratively satisfying, only whether it happened.

Damian approved!

Next came the <Skill Upgrade System>.

[Valid Fey Soul detected.]

[Legend-tier hostile soul successfully processed.]

[Ravelhorn the Reveler — Archfey slain.]

[Soul converted: +21 Skill Points.]

[Current Skill Points: 348.]

Damian blinked.

"Twenty-one?"

Then he understood.

Dark Goblins had roughly given Skill Points according to their Levels, while the various cultivators followed their own adapted progression values.

Ravelhorn had crossed the final boundary into Legend immediately before dying.

Twenty-one sat precisely at the beginning of Valoria’s Neo Legend range.

"Hoh, the System actually does proper accounting." Damian praised solemnly.

But what about the little white fox? Did she not count or somehow survived?

Then <Battle God> appeared.

[Battle God — Qualifying Kill Contribution Increased.]

[Uninterrupted Victories: 7.]

[Future Kill Experience Increase: 79.6% → 81.7%.]

Damian smiled.

Another uninterrupted victory.

The accumulated pressure inside him had deepened noticeably throughout the battle, especially after fighting Alfaro and Ravelhorn back-to-back.

It still wasn’t at the ridiculous level where weak enemies collapsed because Damian looked in their general direction, but there was now a very clear edge hidden beneath his ordinary presence.

Nice.

Very nice!

Several additional notifications hovered farther behind the main set, including reactions from <Demonic Plundering Dao Body> and equipment-use records connected to <The Divine Forge>, but Damian barely began sorting through them before <Divine Sense> caught something approaching.

Fast, extremely fast!

Two presences were tearing through Moonveil Forest in his direction!

Damian stared toward Rosewood Town, then pursed his lips.

"...Ah."

Of course.

Trouble had arrived!

Several seconds later, two figures erupted above the forest and stopped in midair near him.

Roland Hammond appeared first.

The enormous Lionman somehow looked even more ridiculous floating in open air, his mane whipping violently through the lingering thermal currents while golden eyes moved from Damian, to Alfaro beneath his arm, then toward the apocalyptic crater below.

Selene Vael arrived barely a heartbeat later.

The mature Legend Mage said absolutely nothing.

Her crimson eyes moved toward Damian, the Longtian Sword beneath his feet, the unconscious White Wolf tucked beneath one arm, and then the enormous burning section of Moonveil Forest.

Finally...

Back to Damian.

The expressions upon both Legends became remarkably colorful.

Damian smiled politely. "Evening."

Roland’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

"Young man..."

"Yes?"

The Guildmaster pointed downward.

Damian followed his claw as though he had only now noticed the enormous flaming crater.

"Oh, that?"

Selene’s eyebrow twitched.

"That?" She repeated softly.

Damian nodded. "Things escalated."

Roland and Selene stared at him speechlessly.

Damian maintained the innocent expression of a man who had absolutely not produced a miniature sun five minutes earlier.

The Mage finally rubbed her forehead.

"Little Damian... Can you please explain why half of Moonveil Forest believes the apocalypse has begun?" Selene murmured.

"Half seems excessive. Maybe a quarter." Damian replied with a faint grin.

"Damian!" Selene chided with a mild look of annoyance.

"Right, right."

His amusement faded slightly.

"Ravelhorn was considerably stronger than our intelligence suggested. The CR 8 rating was deliberate misinformation he fed through Varkas. His actual combat power was around low Master."

Roland’s expression hardened immediately. "Master?"

Damian nodded.

"He also had Alfaro under magical control. I subdued Alfaro without killing him, but after that Ravelhorn and I fought properly."

Selene glanced down at the Wolf.

"You broke the control?"

"Not exactly. I knocked him unconscious and protected him while dealing with Ravelhorn. We’ll need to inspect whatever the Satyr did to him afterward."

Roland’s golden eyes moved over Alfaro’s battered body, relief briefly appearing when he confirmed the ancient Wolf still lived.

Then Damian continued.

"A white fox named Mirelle was there too. She eventually took a killing blow meant for Ravelhorn."

Selene’s expression shifted.

"And that caused this?"

"Partly. Ravelhorn lost his mind afterward and transformed. Whatever happened pushed him across the final threshold into Archfey." Damian answered.

Both Legends became completely still.

Roland’s eyes widened while Selene’s earlier disbelief disappeared.

"He advanced into Legend?" She asked sharply.

"Yup."

"And you fought him?"

Damian scratched his cheek.

"Technically."

Roland stared at the crater again.

"...Technically?"

"I decided continuing the melee portion of our relationship was no longer responsible adult behaviour."

Selene slowly looked at him.

Damian pointed downward.

"So I upcast <Fireball> through a Level 5 Mage Spell Slot, nothing major."

Silence.

The wind blew between them.

Roland stared at Damian as though attempting to find the hidden second Otherworlder responsible for the story.

Selene’s gaze became even stranger.

Finally, the Guildmaster spoke.

"You’re telling me Ravelhorn became a Legend..."

"Yes."

"...and you killed him?"

"Probably."

Selene’s eyes narrowed.

"Probably?"

Damian shrugged.

"If he survived that, I am willing to formally apologize for underestimating him."

Roland looked down again.

There really was no argument available.

Someway...

Somehow...

The helpless Otherworlder who had appeared outside Rosewood barely more than a week ago had just produced magical output comparable to a Neo Legend!

Roland remembered teaching Damian what Classes were while Selene remembered watching him awaken Mage.

Neither memory was particularly helpful right now.

"Let’s go down and check." Roland finally suggested with a heavy sigh.

Damian nodded and Selene agreed.

The three descended.

At least, they tried.

Even with the main shockwave gone, extreme heat still rolled upward from the devastated forest.

Fires burned across shattered tree lines, the crater itself glowed in several places and enormous sections of earth had been transformed into blackened glassy material.

Damian raised one hand. "Alright, I’ll deal with it."

"No need, darling, I’ll handle it." Selene offered with a charming smile.

Damian paused, then politely lowered his hand.

Please go ahead Madam Legend!

Selene extended her staff toward the devastated forest, and Mana gathered around her, a ridiculous amount of Mana.

Damian’s <Divine Sense> immediately showed him why Legend magic was an entirely different category.

The surrounding atmosphere did not simply feed the spell, it obeyed.

"Procella Nivalis!"

<Blizzard>!

Level 7 magic descended as clouds formed unnaturally fast over the crater before white snow began falling.

Within seconds, snowfall became a violent magical blizzard!

Cold wind tore across the burning forest while ice and snow buried flames faster than ordinary weather ever could.

Steam exploded upward in enormous sheets as molten earth cracked beneath the temperature change, and burning tree trunks vanished beneath rapidly accumulating frost.

Damian stared.

"...Okay."

That was impressive.

Several minutes later, Selene lowered her staff, and the inferno had become a steaming wasteland.

The three finally descended, Damian’s boots touching what remained of the glade.

When he looked around properly, his expression changed.

From several hundred meters above, the destruction had been impressive.

Standing inside it though, was completely different.

The crater stretched across an enormous area.

Trees had been flattened far beyond its edge, and several stone formations Damian remembered seeing during the battle simply no longer existed.

The ground near the center had melted and fused before Selene’s Blizzard flash-cooled it, producing cracked black surfaces that looked more like volcanic glass than forest soil.

Damian slowly turned.

"So..."

He had done this, and casually too.

Well, not ’casually’ casually.

It required his Grandmaster Signature <Fireball>, upcast through his only Level 5 Slot.

But still!

He could do this now.

Damian Baines could walk into some random section of Valoria or Shengyuan, point at the ground and create something disturbingly similar to a tactical nuclear strike.

Naturally, stronger people could stop him, powerful formations could probably stop him, and other Legends definitely possessed countermeasures.

But against ordinary settlements, armies, Sect outposts, and cities without sufficient protection?

"...Holy shit."

The realization felt considerably different while standing inside the crater.

Selene sighed beside him.

Damian glanced over.

The mature Mage was looking at him with an expression somewhere between fondness, exhaustion and the dawning realization that her life had become significantly more complicated.

"You’re truly very cute, Little Damian." Selene remarked softly.

Damian smiled. "Why thank you."

Her eyes narrowed.

"...But you’re also incredibly troublesome."

Damian’s smile disappeared. "Hey! What did I do?"

Roland barked out a laugh when Selene simply stared pointedly around the crater.

Damian followed her gaze.

"...Okay, fair."

Roland’s laughter faded after several moments, then the Lionman folded his massive arms.

"Actually, Selene is right." Roland said.

Damian looked toward him, and the Guildmaster’s expression had become serious.

"You’ve crossed a threshold tonight, young man. Whether your Overall Level says Adept or not, you now possess offensive power capable of entering the Legend bracket."

Selene nodded slowly. "Which means there are things we can no longer leave for you to discover gradually."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

Roland looked across the frozen crater.

"It’s time you properly understood what a Legend actually is."

The Lionman’s golden eyes returned to Damian.

"Where we live, why so few of us remain scattered across ordinary kingdoms and towns..."

Selene rested both hands upon her staff.

"...and why people who possess this kind of power do not simply wander around the continent using it whenever they please."