Chapter 125: The Dark Mage and the Faceless One

In that case, these two were, in truth, absolute pragmatists.

Walking through the merchant district of Free Haven, neither felt the need to speak. In fact, what struck both Vinigo and Sophie as somewhat strange was their instinctive ability to perceive the other’s intentions. They did not need to speak; simply standing nearby, observing a glance or a subtle movement, was enough for them to understand each other and respond in perfect harmony.

It was as if they were two hands belonging to the same body, collaborating flawlessly without the need for conscious coordination.

Within their group, Sophie was the only person Vinigo trusted without reservation. While he could claim to trust the others—and would even be willing to turn his back to them—it was never absolute. As for Marlin, Yuri, and Ilu, his trust was even thinner, and he did not fully trust the newcomers, Shelly and Sona, either.

Sophie suddenly stopped and looked up.

Without a word, Vinigo knew she was gazing at the massive crystal pillar near Free Haven. He followed her line of sight. The pillar remained unchanged, standing tall and emitting a vast yet faint magical pulse.

Just as Vinigo was about to speak, he realized something. He pulled a portable telescope from his storage pouch and peered at the pillar.

There were people there, and they were certainly not men of Sir Temp or any other High Council faction. They were members of the Goat-Bleat Cult.

"Shall we?" Vinigo tugged gently on Sophie’s left hand.

Sophie nodded. She suddenly accelerated, pulling Vinigo along as they sprinted toward the crystal pillar. Vinigo unleashed a burst of airflow from beneath his boots to keep pace with her, and in the blink of an eye, they reached the vicinity of the pillar.

The swordsmen under Sir Temp had also noticed the disturbance, but no sooner had they gathered than they were ambushed. Dark-clad figures emerged from all sides, pinning them down and blocking the square formation from reaching the pillar.

Watching the chaotic melee, Vinigo did not move. Seeing him hold back, Sophie did not launch a rash attack either, choosing instead to guard his flank.

*Eye of Perception...*

The swordsmen under Sir Temp, even as rank-and-file town guards, possessed formidable strength. By Vinigo’s "leveling" standards, their combat prowess was comparable to a 15th-level melee character he might construct. Their swordsmanship was refined and well-drilled; despite the surprise attack and encirclement, they accurately executed defensive strategies, holding their ground steadily against the enemy's offensive.

The enemies, however, were a diverse lot. Among them were soldiers wielding long spears, "Blade-in-the-Dark" assassins with short daggers, heavy infantry with oversized shields and unnaturally enlarged right arms, and "Faceless Mages"—figures devoid of discernible features who could wield a limited array of magic.

A strange bunch. Their individual strength was inferior to the swordsmen's formation, but they held a massive numerical advantage and had the element of surprise, which allowed them to suppress the guards.

"That’s enough," Vinigo said.

Sophie shot forward like an arrow. Using the momentum of her sprint, she swung her greatsword, which let out a resonant hum as it carved through the air with a gale-like roar.

*Thirty-Third Style: Roc Wings!*

At the same moment, Vinigo pulled a wide-brimmed hat onto his head and pulled his scarf up to cover his face, leaving only his dragon-like eyes visible. He let out a sharp chuckle and waved at two Faceless Mages looking his way.

His "greeting" was a massive, exploding fireball.

*FFTA System: Level 35 Black Mage. Primary Skill: Black Magic. Secondary Skill: Grand Magic. Counter Skill: Magic Counter. Passive Skill: Magic Attack Up.*

*First Enhancement: Magic Attack Boost.*
*Second Enhancement: Speed Boost.*
*Third Enhancement: Mana Conservation.*

A sequence of lights representing the enhancements shimmered over the Black Mage Vinigo. The "Great Fireball" intended as a greeting roared forth, engulfing one of the Faceless Mages and the Rusty-Spear soldiers guarding him, reducing them all to ash.

Vinigo laughed aloud, scattering his furious flames. A Black Mage with maximum magical attack power, augmented by three tiers of enhancements, possessed terrifying lethality. While such a Black Mage could not master the subtle and varied arts of magic, in terms of sheer destructive power, they were no less formidable than the Warlord Mages who specialized in slaughter.

In their hands, magic was a weapon—a powerful tool whose sole purpose was the annihilation of the enemy.

His secondary skill, the "Grand Magic" unique to the Sage profession, included all Black and White Magic spells designated as "Grand," which granted Vinigo a degree of support capability. Furthermore, the Sage’s Grand Magic included "Magic Critical," which allowed him to attach a physical phantom attack to every magical strike.

Though Vinigo’s physical attack capabilities were not strong, for spellcasters like the Faceless Mages, such an addition could be far more lethal than the Great Fireball itself.

Vinigo let out a wild, cackling laugh. The Black Mage’s appearance was already bizarre: a short stature, a wide-brimmed pointed hat, and a face shrouded in complete darkness, save for a pair of yellow, glowing eyes emitting an eerie light. Combined with his manic laughter, it was enough to terrify most people.

Many of the Goat-Bleat cultists were, at their core, merely ordinary people. They were afraid—especially when both Sophie and Vinigo displayed such overwhelming superiority and an aura of profound mystery. They feared Sophie’s terrifying swordsmanship that could cleave rock and sever rivers; they feared the incomprehensible, lethal magic unleashed by the Black Mage. This fear was highly advantageous to Vinigo.

His "Imaginary Construction" was such that the more the enemy feared him, the more effective it became, yielding greater benefits.

Today, Vinigo seemed content to use only the Great Fireball. Balls of flame rose amidst the enemy ranks—slow, yet precise—always managing to engulf four or five foes at once, turning them to ash.

Of course, some enemies attempted to strike at Vinigo. The high-speed Blade-in-the-Dark assassins, for instance, tried to rush him. But even if Vinigo’s spellcasting speed was somewhat slow, one could not ignore his familiar.

I speak, of course, of Hilda the Incandescent.

The Phlogiston Sprite laughed joyfully. She took great delight in igniting enemies in various ways, watching them scream as they were scorched into bizarre charred remains or heaps of ash. She was curious, experimenting with flames of different temperatures, igniting and burning her foes in different ways to see what varied results she could produce.

The sprite played to her heart's content, while Vinigo’s enemies were so paralyzed by terror they could barely stand.

"I said it before," Vinigo muttered to himself. "Even if biochemical modifications and genetic tuning can alter their physical strength, it can't overcome the hearts of a rabble. This level of resistance is hardly worth the effort."

Sophie let out a sharp cry, flicking a Rusty-Spear soldier who tried to pass her into the air with a single strike of her blade. Simultaneously, she sidestepped the charge of a Shield-Arm Berserker and left a lethal, backhanded slash across his spine.

"Faceless Mages as casters, Blade-in-the-Dark for high mobility, Rusty-Spear soldiers for the phalanx, Shield-Arm Berserkers as heavy infantry... hmm, the configuration is actually quite complete," Vinigo evaluated.

"But, they are still just a rabble—nothing more!"