Chapter 141: Lance Provides a Choice

At Ikerite University, the entire Gela Memorial Plaza fell into dead silence. Every tree, every falling leaf, and even the very wind seemed to freeze in place. They were all held captive by the farce that had just happened.

Even the people around the plaza, such as stern instructors, lively students, and staff members on the move, halted completely. They stared wide-eyed at the sudden, unexpected scene.

The Saintess of Destruction had collapsed to her knees before Lance, unable to rise. It looked exactly like a headmaster punishing an incorrigible student.

Finally, a dazed student asked, "Did anyone see the card he used...?"

Someone else haltingly answered, "I recall a Mental type spell called Mental Interference that briefly disrupts targets within a three meter radius, causing them to freeze. Lance's spell is clearly similar, but... I can't quite say for sure..."

The infuriating thing about Mental type crowd control spells were that they were either a continuous effect, or so fleeting that they didn't even require a Purify spell to break. That was why the Saintess was so bewildered. She had found herself kneeling before Lance before she could even process what was happening.

"Holy shit! It takes a troll to cook up a card like that!"

"Lance definitely created that himself!"

In the past, if they had seen a card like this, they might have suspected it was some sort of twisted monstrosity spawned by the erratic nature of the Shadow Realm. Now, however, the students of Ikerite University were well-versed in the habits of the infamous Lance and knew full well that he was a genuine card maker. They didn't even need to think twice about who had invented this card!

One student whooped, "Damn that Headmaster Lance!"

Another huffed, "Seriously, what kind of so-called white mage is he, anyway?"

The bewilderingly fast fight had culminated in Lance revealing his white mage abilities, and it had led to a sudden reversal within seconds. The students of Ikerite University were still reeling from the shock of Lance's revolutionary healing style, and now this happened.

Another person asked, "And why is he immune to the effects of the Poet?"

As everyone knew, the core of Lance's system was the Poet of Boundless Love, a summon who synergized perfectly with him. They were both masters at provoking and manipulating their enemies.

However, because the Poet made no distinction between friend and foe, she was a card terrifying enough to devour her own master. Without a sufficiently steadfast mind, her summoner could instantly succumb to her allure and the amplification of emotions, becoming a puppet under her absolute control.

Yet, many students in the plaza had been watching Lance's Shadow Realm challenges for quite some time. They had seen him mess with others' heads countless times, but never once had they seen Lance himself undergo any emotional shift because of the Poet. When he and his summon came together, they unleashed their full potential and roamed freely, all without paying any price whatsoever!

A long, heavy silence had settled over the crowd. Finally, someone spoke up. "Because he is the rising dawn. He is totally untouched by all mortal feelings and sentiment."

A burly man from The Warrior's Soul team spoke through tears, his face twisted in anguish. "You're right, but that's Lance for you. He's a white mage with massive stamina and an incredibly large mana pool. He's got crowd control, disruption abilities, and immunity to status effects. He acts as a physical Taunt magnet, tricks people into signing unfair contracts, and inflicts undispellable Rage and Confusion statuses on his opponents. And the moment that summon of his kicks in..."

He was finally able to pour out his suffering to his classmates. To this day, he could never forget how their leader, the tough-as-nails Zirvini, had wept for an entire day after their clubhouse was destroyed.

***

Even though the setting sun heralded the coming of dusk, the shafts of light piercing through the stained-glass windows crisscrossed the large sanctuary, seemingly reaching into every corner of the world.

Under the radiance cast beside the great rose window, Adelise, the Saintess of Destruction, had rapidly lost her balance and collapsed onto her knees. Lance stood tall and motionless before her, looking down with a gaze that held a trace of pity and regret.

As the reality of the situation sank in, humiliation crushed her dignity like an invisible mountain. She clawed at the ground, her fingernails scratching crudely at the stone tiles as a hoarse cry escaped her throat.

She trembled violently with pain and rage. Each shudder was a desperate defiance against a cruel reality. Blood trickled from her bitten lip, while her pride and self-esteem ebbed away, never to return, much like the blood leaving her body.

"Do you realize your error?" Lance's voice was calm yet stern, as if he was interrogating the very last remnants of her dignity.

Facing this unprecedented humiliation, her vision blurred uncontrollably. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over at any moment. Finally, a single, crystalline tear slid from her proud, icy eyes and fell onto the cold stone floor.

Adelise had never knelt before anyone, but she finally realized with stark clarity that she was currently on both knees before a youth even younger than herself. Furthermore, this was being witnessed by multitudes of people in the Southern Continent.

The sensation of piercing gazes, seemingly cast from the real world through the broadcast from the Shadow Realm, made her want to reduce the enemy before her to ashes. Yet, that single step separating her from Lance felt like an infinite distance.

The calm, indifferent expression on his face suggested he had never even considered her a worthy adversary. He was simply punishing her.

The Saintess couldn’t fathom what trump cards Lance might still be holding to treat her with such disdain. As this surge of emotion threatened to overwhelm her mind, the last shred of her sanity grappled with a final, critical choice.

The executioner, the paladin, and the male bodyguard reacted instantly.

"Kill!!!"

"Fight!!!"

They knew this was a rare opportunity. The three of them began a full-speed sprint. Their weapons whipped up gusts of wind as they charged straight toward Adelise like three streaks of lightning.

At that moment, the Saintess's legs, which had seemed devoid of sensation, were trembling increasingly. It was a sign that her nerves were recovering and she was about to stand once more.

They knew that subduing this desperate cultist meant there was almost no hope for all three of them to survive. However, to protect their teammates and save the world from catastrophe, they pressed on with unwavering resolve, marching forward as if walking to their deaths.

However, just as the Saintess of Destruction rose to her feet and locked eyes with Lance again, she saw his faint smile. He was holding an Orange card in each hand. The card in his left hand was wreathed in eerie orange mist, ominous as the abyss, while the one in his right crackled with a cocoon of scorching orange lightning, radiant and divine as the blazing sun.

Both cards sent a shiver of dread down her spine, a visceral warning of imminent peril. These were no ordinary Epic cards. They were terrifying, lethal moves capable of sealing her fate in an instant!

Lance said nothing, but the smile on his face was taunting, as if he was silently asking the Saintess, Which card would you like me to use on you?