The afterglow of the setting sun spilled across the adow, surrounded by lush, ancient trees. Their thick trunks stood like guardians of ti, silently witnessing the ever-changing tides of the world.
rlin's fist carried a sharp, whistling wind, slicing the air with a hunting cry. Almost before Ian could react, the punch landed squarely on his face.
To be honest, Ian had never expected rlin to suddenly strike him. By the ti he realized the attack was coming, the fist was already in front of him, and he didn't even have the chance to respond.
In that instant, with the rippling shock of tender flesh against his cheek, half of Ian's face caved inward. That heavy, crushing blow seed to contain every ounce of rlin's strength.
"Hissss~"
To tell the truth, not just in this lifeti, even including the one before he crossed over ito this world, Ian had never once been punched in the face. His head buzzed dully, as if ringing with static. It wasn't only the fiery sting across his cheek; his whole body staggered back a few steps, utterly out of his control.
"This punch was for my childhood trauma!" rlin withdrew his hand after striking Ian's face, though his fists remained tightly clenched, his knuckles bone-white from the force.
'Yeah.
'The swelling was already beginning to show.'
After all, according to the "relativity" recorded in apocryphal histories, the fist of one who strikes must also bear an equal force in return. Both were Legendary Wizards; their physical bodies were nearly equal in toughness.
Because of that, rlin's fist wasn't unscathed either, though, of course, it was nowhere near as bad as Ian's swelling face. Ian shook his head twice before glaring furiously at rlin.
He didn't even bother asking what "childhood trauma" ant. Being angry and young, how could he tolerate such a baffling attack on his person, and on his face no less? He rolled up his sleeves and lunged straight at rlin.
"Damn it! This is going to leave with childhood trauma!"
Are you insane?! You're an old man, and you sneak-attack , a twelve-year-old kid? Have you no sha?!' Ian's fists did, in fact, pack a punch.
His strength was real, and his speed was astonishing. Calling it a storm of random punches was no exaggeration.
His arms flailed at lightning speed, his fists pounding down on rlin like raindrops. Each strike cut through the air with a rushing whistle. The blur of fists was dazzling to behold.
"Holy shit!"
rlin clearly hadn't expected Ian's counterattack to be so swift and ferocious. He hurriedly raised his arms in defense, but Ian's fists continued to hamr him relentlessly.
Eyes.
Nose.
Kidneys.
rlin's horrified expression was priceless when Ian's fists went straight for his crotch. As the saying goes: "The fist fears the young, the staff fears the old!"
When it ca to wizardly magic, an old man with a wand was surely crafty and unpredictable; his strength was unknown. But in a bare-knuckle brawl, the twelve-year-old Ian showed rlin just how terrifying youth could be.
The sound of "bang, bang, bang" rang out in quick succession. rlin was beaten back step after step. His mouth let out continuous "ow, ow" cries, it was the reaction of soone whose kidneys had just taken a savage pounding on both sides.
"Stop! Stop! Ti out! Ti out!" rlin mumbled through his dodging, his tone full of grievance as if old grudges hadn't been settled and new ones had just been added. His face now bore several bruises, with thin trickles of blood seeping out. Pain twisted his expression; his eyes narrowed to slits and the corners of his mouth twitched from the sting.
But a tiout was impossible.
Like a berserker possessed, Ian hamred two more blows straight into rlin's groin. At barely five feet tall, he slipped and darted around rlin's counterattacks with astonishing agility.
"Stop it, stop it! You two!"
Leonard stood to the side, looking utterly dumbfounded. He had intended to step in and break it up. However, the mont he took a step forward, one of Ian's stray punches smashed into his shoulder.
His whole body was sent flying. If not for the tears of the Phoenix falling on him, his shoulder might have been completely ruined. Such was the way of things: when immortals fought, mortals suffered.
Don't be fooled by rlin and Ian being just re wizards; when two Legendary Wizards brawled, their physical strength was fierce. Leonard had just proven firsthand how much weight a punch from a "Legendary little wizard" could carry.
"Ahhh, ow!"
Even though Phoenix tears heal any wound quickly, Leonard was still gritting his teeth and breathing in cold air from the pain. He quickly clutched his Phoenix and hid behind a large tree far away.
"What the hell is this crap?!"
The young Dumbledore trembled slightly in fear. The Phoenix seed deeply shaken by the sudden chaos, too, as its feathers were bristling and it gave an anxious cry. Not far away, Ian was still chasing rlin with his fists swinging. After all, Ian had never been so humiliated in his life.
"Now, who's the real boxing king?!"
The more he fought, the more excited he beca.
"Stop already!"
It wasn't that rlin didn't want to fight back, but Ian's attack speed was maxed out. When rlin saw Ian suddenly pull out a pair of boxing gloves and pour a potion onto them, the so-called King of Wizards' expression instantly shifted in horror.
"You bloody brat! You didn't just pour shit on your fists, did you?!"
Throwing aside all pretense of dignity, rlin bolted on the spot. So of those potions, especially Ian's bizarre inventions from the future, were impossible to identify in such a short ti. Having already experienced the trauma of having shit land on his head, rlin wasn't about to gamble on what kind of "magic" Ian had coated his fists with.
So he ran.
Ian chased.
rlin was clearly running out of options, as if his wings had been clipped.
"You...you damn brat! I was only taking revenge! Do you understand?" rlin tried to explain, but Ian had no intention of listening.
"Then I'm taking revenge right now, too. Isn't that reasonable? You ambushed twice today already!" Ian shouted as he pursued rlin. At the sa ti, he cast a Protean Charm, and spikes began sprouting from his boxing gloves. Thanks to the potions he'd poured on them earlier, each spike shimred with an eerie, sinister gleam.
"??????"
rlin glanced back and felt a chill run straight down his spine and his scalp began to tingle. He didn't want to counterattack with magic because he dreaded Ian suddenly turning into the Raven.
That creature had absurdly high magic resistance and was notoriously unfriendly toward wizards.
"I was wrong! I shouldn't have been so rash!"
rlin dropped to his knees at lightning speed, trying to apologize. But Ian clearly wasn't going to relent. Gritting his teeth, rlin unleashed a trump card. He stopped running, reached into his pouch, and, in the next mont, a massive treasure chest appeared between him and Ian. Gems, mithril, and gold inside the chest glead brilliantly in the sunlight, instantly catching Ian's attention.
Blocked by the chest, Ian skidded to a halt.
"Phew... Thank goodness... In so ways, nothing has changed," rlin sighed in relief when he saw Ian's gaze locked onto the treasure. He imdiately shoved the chest toward Ian.
"This is my compensation to you..." rlin pressed a hand against his swollen face and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His words were slurred, and he had no choice but to admit defeat.
His voice whistled strangely; he was missing a few teeth.
"Hah? Are you trying to buy off?"
Ian had won the fight, yet he still felt indignant. "If you don't explain what the hell this was all about, I could beat you again and again!"
Despite his words, though, he snatched up the chest without hesitation. Accepting the payoff didn't an he had to forgive rlin, of course.
Sotis, Tang Niu's Inequality really ca in handy. Ian silently opened a fresh page in his little black notebook and made a special entry for rlin. He would "settle accounts" properly at a later ti.
Under Ian's sharp, unfriendly glare, rlin gave a bitter smile. "That thing I gave you earlier is an alchemical artifact from the true Creator."
"To be precise, it is one of the organs belonging to the works forged by the so-called 'God of Alchemy,' who was created by the true Creator's might. Only the true Creator can restart it."
I used this thod to confirm your identity: divh, the true Creator, and the Raven. You are all the sa being!"
rlin's tone carried absolute certainty.
"Hm?"
Hearing this, Ian couldn't help but frown. He could accept the identity of the true Creator, but the Raven? There was no way he had gone back in ti to beco the Raven, was there?
Too many nesting dolls!
"You may not realize this yet, but I am certain of my judgnt. I've found information about the true Creator in many ancient texts."
"You should know that he is often depicted as a bird. How could such coincidences possibly exist in this world?" rlin sighed as he began casting a spell to heal his injuries.
"What did you sar on your gloves?" Even though his wounds were gradually healing under the influence of magic, rlin still didn't feel at ease. He rembered that Ian's gloves had hit him a few tis.
"Nothing much. Just a failed experint with a bloodline fusion potion. It might cause you to mutate into a goblin. You people now call them Pukwudgies?"
Ian's reply made rlin's heart pound wildly.
(To Be Continued…)
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