Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End

Moving in accordance with its master’s will, the dusk tempest formed innumerable tornadoes that swiftly morphed into spears at Roel’s command. 

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These were invincible spears of wind that corroded anything that stood in their way, making them nigh impossible to guard against.
Even space seemed to freeze in place before this tremendous force of nature.
With a wave of Roel’s arm, the countless spears of wind whizzed toward Priestley with deafening roars. 

On the other hand, Priestley had already channeled an overwhelming amount of mana that revitalized his body back to its prime.
Faced with the menacing aggression coming from one of the Six Calamities, he raised his staff and summoned countless spirits that shone brightly around him. 

With these spirits as the catalyst, the sky suddenly seemed to reverse at his command, and the all-devouring blinding white light reemerged in the world. 

The two powers clashed and attempted to devour each other. 

Roel felt stronger than ever with the buff he had received from the Witch Queen and Lilian’s blood, even more so than he was with Peytra’s Blessing.
With ample mana sustaining him, he could afford to throw whatever he wanted against Priestley without much worry.

His Origin Attribute started to quiver as he floated into mid-air.
He gazed at Priestley with eyes glowing like candlelight as he raised his palm and channeled the full prowess of the Crown’s Stone, as if he was really intending to unleash the ancient monster upon the world.

A towering silhouette with an indistinct face vaguely appeared amongst the dusk yellow wind.
It was the deathbringer that had brought down countless ancient civilizations.

It was only then that Priestley finally understood the source of Roel’s confidence.

“Is this the reason behind your arrogance? The legendary monster who has driven many ancient civilizations into extinction, one of the envoys of the Mother Goddess—Tempest Caller.
It’s indeed an embodiment of fear,” said Priestley as he stared at the monster formed out of wind. 

He lowered his gaze afterward to look at Roel.

“Through the power of the Crown’s Stone and your unusual spell, you were able to exert might surpassing that of Origin Level 3 transcendents… I’m honestly impressed, but what gave you the idea that you would be able to threaten me just by reaching Origin Level 3? 

“That’s no more than the minimum requirement for you to stand in my presence.”

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Priestley’s voice boomed loudly as he raised his staff, and the white surge of light began expanding massively.
The countless wind spears whizzing toward him dispersed before any could even reach him. 

He raised his head and stared directly at the indistinct apparition in the sky, fearless like a true sovereign. 

Priestley might have been growing weaker over the years, but that didn’t change the fact that he was an Origin Level 1 transcendent.
The wisdom and experience he had accrued over the years from braving through danger and hardship were not things that could be taken away from him. 

“No matter how alike your powers are to that monster, you’re still unable to compare with it.
I’ve no idea how you were able to block my spells with your measly wind, but your efforts are meaningless if you’re unable to hurt me,” said Priestley.

He shook his head as if he could already see the end of this fight of attrition.
However, Roel was unfazed by his remarks.

Unable to hurt you? Is that really the case?

“Priestley, have you not realized it yet?”

“What?”

“My wind has never blocked your spells.
They only vanished because they ought to,” Roel calmly revealed the truth. 

The Magician King started to frown as he vaguely sensed a terrifying truth behind what he had just heard. 

Roel calmly raised his hand and twirled a spiral of wind on his palm.
He stared deeply at this spiral of wind as he spoke. 

“You said that I was arrogant, and I shall return those words back at you.
Many civilizations have collapsed to Tempest Caller, including ancient races who possess powers far greater than us.
There’s no denying that you’re strong, but what makes you think that you are the exception?”

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Words of doubt echoed in Priestley’s ears, but before he could reply, he suddenly experienced a bout of feebleness in his body.

Bam!

The green lantern fell to the ground. 

Due to his blurring vision, the Magician King had to squint in order to look at his own arms, and he saw that the hands he had meticulously taken care of over the years were covered in wrinkles.

“This!”

“… All beings are equal before Tempest Caller.
What it scatters is not matter but time,” Roel calmly revealed the answer.

Priestley was horrified to hear that.
He finally understood why his spells were unable to reach Roel despite the vast difference in their prowess. 

Under the battering of time, even spells that were strong enough to tear down Ten Fortresses would be neutralized due to the eventual dissipation of mana.
That was simply how the world worked.

“You have already lost, Priestley.
You have lost to our clan.”

Roel gazed down at the swiftly weakening old man as he spoke words so confident that it was as if everything had already ended. 

That declaration froze the Magician King’s body before boundless rage began to sear his mind.

“I’ve lost? Haha! Hahaha! You’re the first one who dared to speak such words in my presence! I get it now.
So this is the prowess of the Six Calamities? It’s indeed a power that none can hope to oppose.
However, there’s no spell that an Origin Level 3 transcendent can throw at me that I can’t handle!

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“Ultimately, you’re not the real Tempest Caller.
There’s a limit to this enclosed space you have created here.
It’s a creation of the Dream Realm Barrier, isn’t it? If so, all I have to do is to shatter this barrier!”

The swiftly aging Magician King roared furiously.
At this critical moment, his wealth of experience allowed him to figure a way out of this quandary, and he unhesitatingly released the unbelievable accumulation of mana inside his body. 

The surroundings immediately trembled in response to the flood of mana. 

It was a nightmarish scene reminiscent of the eruption of a volcano.
The rampaging mana gushing out of Priestley turned him into a walking disaster.
Just the pressure he was emanating crushed buildings into smithereens before sweeping them up into the sky.

His mana manifested in the form of a blinding white light that tore through the dusk yellow wind raging in the surroundings, pulling everything up into the sky, toward the boundaries of the Dream Realm Barrier. 

Astrid’s Dream Realm Barrier allowed her to overlay a dream on reality and alter environmental conditions.
In order to maximize the prowess of Roel’s newfound ability, Time Devourer, she created an enclosed space around them so that he could concentrate the wind around Priestley so as to induce swift aging in him. 

Otherwise, if the battle were to drag out, the one who would be at a disadvantage was most definitely the weaker Roel. 

Whatever was overlaid by the Dream Realm Barrier would become the new reality, resulting in there being almost no way to escape from the Dream Realm Barrier.
Yet, Priestley actually managed to tear the barrier apart with his overwhelming outburst of mana. 

Crrk!

With sounds reminiscent of shattering glass, cracks began appearing on the Dream Realm Barrier under the terrifying pressure from the eruption of mana.
The dusk yellow wind began leaking out of the barrier, and the indistinct apparition started showing signs of fading.

Correspondingly, the rate of Priestley’s aging started to slow down too. 

It’s working!

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Priestley was already sweating profusely at this point.
The threat of decline had been haunting his dreams for many years now, and Roel actually sought to accelerate the process.
How could he possibly not be frightened? 

However, at the crucial moment, he still managed to turn the tables around using his sharp intuition and superior power.
He wouldn’t allow anyone to stand in the way of his goal, not even a possessor of the Ascart Bloodline who had assimilated a Crown’s Stone!

Amidst blinding white light and falling smithereens of collapsed buildings, Priestley turned his eyes toward Roel.
The tables had turned.
The dusk yellow wind had mostly been forced out of the barrier, which meant that Roel’s ploy had failed. 

Yet, to his bewilderment, what he saw was not panic but a devious smile on Roel’s face, as if he had succeeded in his scheme. 

Roel raised his hand and showed Priestley the black ring sitting on his middle finger.
It was the determining factor of this fight.

“It was the right decision for you to shatter the Dream Realm Barrier, but have you ever wondered whose dream you are in?”

“Whose… dream?”

Priestley murmured in a daze for a moment as he gazed at the black ring shaped like a rose.
The next moment, his eyes narrowed in horror as realization finally dawned on him. 

“Wait a moment, that is…”

“Indeed.
It’s the dream of the one who forsook her own freedom by sealing her dream into a ring so that she could maintain the Chaos Dream for the sake of the world, the dream of Astrid Arde!

“You have shattered her dream, thus opening a doorway for her.”

Iridescent light started to pour through the cracks in the shattered skyline.
A powerful individual was about to traverse through the boundaries between dream and reality.