Lord of Ascension: The Birth of Chaos-Chapter 63 The Figure with Dark Magic

(Far From the Palace)

Night settled over the forest like a heavy blanket. A lone carriage moved quietly down the narrow dirt path, its wheels creaking over the soft, damp earth. The trees on either side stood tall and close, their canopy blocking most of the moon’s light.

The horses snorted and huffed out warm air, their hooves thudding softly as they pulled the carriage forward. Four guards rode alongside, four in front, five behind. Their armor clinked lightly with every movement. All of them were tense, alert, and watchful.

"Isn’t the forest too quiet, There is not even a sound of birds or insects. Something is not right." One of the guards in the back said, his eyes scanning the forest.

"I think you are just overreacting... this part of the forest is mostly silent. And what could possibly go wrong with nine high mages guarding the carriage?" The other guard said with a proud smirk.

"But do you have an idea of what we are transporting?" Another guard asked.

"That is not your job, our job is to transport what goods in the carriage safely. We don’t need to know what’s inside. Remember our motto: Work with no question." One of the guards at the front warned sternly.

The guards’ hair was barbed on both sides, and their middle hair was braided down. But this particular guard had a black and silver emblem on his waist.

"Forgive me, leader." The guard who had asked the question lowered his head.

A black figure blurred through the trees.

The leader raised his hands, and everyone stopped in their tracks.

The figure sat on one of the tree branches, hiding in its cover. The figure was covered by a dark mask and a long black cloak.

Before the guards could react. Silver darts shot through the air and struck the wheels of the carriage. A sharp crack tore through the silence as the wheels shattered. The carriage tilted violently, then slammed sideways into the mud with a heavy thud.

The horses neighed and reared. The guards scrambled, drawing their weapons as they surrounded the fallen carriage.

"Protect the cargo!" The leader barked.

The guards moved quickly, forming a tight circle around the wrecked carriage. Their eyes glowing faintly as they began chanting low spells, their fingers weaving through the air.

Before they could figure out where the attack came from, one of the guards fell to his death.

"Shit, build a barrier." The leader ordered, and the rest of the guards channeled their magic, forming a barrier around them.

But before the barrier could be completed, one of the guards near the rear simply let out a choking sound and then collapsed with his hands pressing on his throat. His throat was slashed cleanly, blood pouring into the soil.

The barrier broke causing a strong wave through the air.

"Where are you?! Come out and fight us head-on... You piece of trash." One of them shouted.

The guards formed a barrier around themselves. Suddenly, one of the mages let out a loud cry, his barrier shattering with a sound like breaking glass. He stumbled back, his eyes wide in horror, his eyes reflected the black object flying towards him. He quickly formed another defensive barrier, but the black spike pierced through his chest, and the impact slammed him into a tree.

"Are you sure you want to fight me head-on?" The distorted voice of the figure echoed through the forest. Then, the figure descended from the trees, landing silently between two guards. The cloak danced to the tune of the wind.

A blade moved with terrifying speed, splitting open the chest of one of the guards, and the other’s helmet cracked under a wave of dark force. The figure tilted its head, its eyes dancing with boredom.

"Who are you and what do you want from us? You must be an archmage seeing how powerful you are... I don’t think we have offended you in any way... why are you attacking us?" The leader stepped forward.

The figure’s eyes darted to the carriage.

"That I’m afraid we can’t give." The leader spat out, his jaws clenched. "Formation!"

A mage raised his staff, shouting an incantation, but shadows wrapped around his legs before he could finish. He screamed as they pulled him to the ground. His voice was the last thing they heard before the soil sealed over him like nothing had happened.

The rest of the mages stared at the figure with fear. "Dark magic." One of them muttered in sheer horror.

The leader yelled, he channeled his mana forming a dark blue translucent sword, and flew towards the figure slashing at the figure, his blade cut through the edge of the cloak. But the manoeuvred, slipping under his guard and slicing his thigh.

The leader staggered from the deep cut on his thigh. Gritting his teeth, he spun back into position, raising his sword again. His eyes blazed with fury. "You’ll regret this," he spat, then he charged at the figure. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Their blades clashed. Sparks flew as mana surged through both weapons. The leader was fast and skilled, his strikes sharp and heavy, but the figure was faster. Each time he swung, the figure dodged, manoeuvred, or blocked with ease. Their cloak whipped through the air, and their movements were smooth and precise like they had done this a hundred times before.

The leader roared, pouring more power into his next strike. The blade crashed down like a hammer, breaking the ground beneath them. Dust shot up in a thick cloud. But the figure had already moved.

In the blink of an eye, the figure appeared behind him. But the leader spun around just in time to block another strike. Their swords clashed again, sending a sharp wave through the air. He grunted, stepping back, blood trailing down his leg. His breathing grew heavy.

"Who the hell are you?" he growled.

The figure didn’t respond.

The leader shot a blast of raw mana straight at the figure’s chest. The force cracked the nearby trees and sent debris flying in the air. But the figure absorbed the blow with a barrier, then moved forward like nothing had happened. With a swift step, they ducked under the leader’s next attack and drove their blade deep into his side.

He gasped. His eyes widened in disbelief. The figure twisted the blade and jerked it out in one swift motion. The leader fell to his knees, clutching the wound, he opened his mouth, but no words came out.

The figure stood over him silently, watching him fall face-first into the mud. Then, without a glance at the others, the figure turned and walked toward the shattered carriage.