The Elven Evolution: Starting With 1 Million SSSR Skills-Chapter 202: [] The Grand Mage Has An SSSR Spell

The moment Eliron warped them into the sky, he distanced himself from Azarath and made use of another spell, one of the newer spells he had discovered.

[Dread Roc’s Heritage]

Eliron stiffened a groan as his back arched backward. His clothes were suddenly ripped apart as black feathers slipped out of his back, spreading out to his sides.

"That stung..." he smirked, wiping off some blood from his nose.

The grand mage, Azarath on the other hand did not need wings to fly. As a vampire, flight was second nature to him, he simply suspended in the air, a small smile on his face as he watched Eliron curiously.

"You’re a strange one aren’t you?" He stole a glance at the magic tower that was several meters down.

"You say you will kill all the mages in the arena, yet you brought me out here. If not for your earlier threat, I would have been led to believe you were trying to protect them."

"Protect them?" Eliron scoffed. "Make no mistake, they are my precious hostages."

"Ahh? To keep hostages..." Azarath motioned with his hands. "What is it you desire?"

"Nothing that you can offer me of course." Eliron cracked his neck, then fluttered his wings by his sides.

"Now, since you have asked your questions, I hope you would be kind enough to answer mine..."

The grand mage shrugged. "Fire away. The mages aren’t going anywhere after all."

Eliron’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You were the one who messed up Artie’s spell weren’t you?"

"Artie?" His eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, that is what she is called? Yes, that was me."

"Why?"

That was all Eliron wanted to know. If it was a high elf, or even a human, then Eliron would have understood his motives. For any of the races, losing to a high elf was seen as the ultimate disgrace in magic.

But Azarath was a vampire, a person that was crucial in pushing back the lord of the dead in the novel.

Vampires were not the type to concern themselves with worldly affairs, yet he had meddled in an official duel.

"Heh—Ahahahaha." The grand mage suddenly burst out in laughter.

Eliron’s face hardened, his voice growing colder. "I don’t recall telling a joke."

"Ahah... forgive me, I just thought it was funny that such a question would come from you. You are the elven lord are you not?"

"..."

Eliron glared at him, waiting for him to continue.

Azarath raised his arms by his sides.

"Then you should know that everything in this world follows a set order. Parents are above their children, humans are above monsters, a proud knight is under his commander..."

"Without order, the world would crumble to dust and ashes. I have seen the results myself."

His voice turned solemn, and for a brief moment, Eliron felt he was not looking at him, but something in the distant past.

Azarath slowly shook his head. "An unregistered mage beating a wizard? That was a distortion to order I could possibly allow."

"Even at the cost of her life?" Lightning raced across the sky, illuminating Eliron’s face.

Azarath’s face twisted in rage. "Are you telling me you still do not understand? Elven lord?!"

"What is the life of one measly wood elf when compared to the natural state of things?"

Eliron smiled darkly. "Now I reallyy want to kill you."

The Grand Mage scoffed, slowly ascending higher into the sky, staring down at Eliron in a condescending manner.

"Kill me? Do you jest boy?" He raised his hand and grabbed a golden, skull shaped ring he had been wearing.

The moment he took it off, there was a shift in the atmosphere.

’A sealing ring, huh?’

His black hair was immediately overturned by red, the hair violently lashing around in the wind, his fangs elongated, and his eyes glowed a bright crimson.

"I am Azarath, the Immortal Scourge! I have lived over two centuries and not once have I tasted death!"

Eliron’s body began to glow a faint hum of translucent green. Wind currents caressed his body like a shield of armour.

He rotated his staff in his hands, pointing it at the grand mage. "Then I’ll do you a favour, Grand Mage. Today, I’ll teach you to fear death."

Azarath smirked, and then he pointed his finger at Eliron. "Die."

Lightning surged out of Eliron’s staff, pulsing with devastating current, while a beam of red energy gushed out of Azarath’s finger, pouring into the lighting.

BOOOM!

A shockwave cut past the two mages, causing the wind to tremble as it spread out. At the point where both spells were clashing, lightning was sparking out at the sides, the red energy bubbling at its seams as well.

"Not bad old man!"

"I see you’re not all talk boy. Shall we kick this to the next level?"

"Gladly!"

The lightning and blood energy vanished, but the peace lasted for less than a second.

[Demonic Liberation!]

Blood spun around the grand mage, rotating so fast that it caused a gust of wind to rush around him.

He cooked the spell, allowing it to grow large enough to consume a tower, before he unleashed it towards Eliron.

Just as the spell arrived, Eliron raised a hand, splitting reality apart with his spell.

With spatial manipulation, Eliron divided the spell on a dimensional level, the two cut halves rushing past him and causing a devastating explosion far below.

Azarath smiled wryly. "Fascinating. So young and yet you command such advanced spells. By any chance, are you—"

"My turn."

Eliron slowly traced his hand through the air, lightning currents dancing in one hand while the steam in the air condensed to water in the other.

He took in a deep breath, his eyes sharp as he stared at the Grand Mage.

"Combination spell."

[Lightning Coffin] [Loch Ness Howl]

BANG!

A stream of lightning flew out of one hand, the currents twisting and turning until they formed something similar to a large net of currents.

On the other hand, a colossal gust of water exploded out of his finger, bearing enough pressure to crush a building to debris.

The two spells merged together, and a malovalent monstrous head was formed, water pulsing with lightning.

A deadly combination.

"Combining two SSS Ranked Spells?! This is madness!"

Azarath poured his mana to the tip of his fingers, letting out a battle cry as he summoned several shields of blood.

In front of him, seven hexagonal shields appeared, each one empowered by intense magic.

Dark, smoky mana filled up the space between the shields, further reinforcing them.

The monster of a spell charged right toward the shield, and then it opened its mouth, unleashing a deafening roar.

A large stream of electrified water poured into the first shield with a thunderclap that shook the heavens.

Two out of the seven shields shattered like glass, and then the monster slammed into the others.

"Azarath gritted his teeth, tasting iron as he poured his mana into the shield.

Crash!

The fifth shield was compromised.

Booom!

The fourth shield crumbled to pieces.

One by one, all the shields fell apart until the very last one, and yet, the spell showed no sign of slowing!

"AHHHHHHHH!"

Azarath screamed at the top of his voice, holding back the spell with everything in him.

His body was covered in sweat, his hands shaking from over exertion. He was face to face with the monster, its golden eyes locked on him as it pounded into the shield.

Cracks began to form, and then—

BOOOOM!

Steam filled the air, the currents pulsing through the skies just before they died down.

"So, how did that taste, old man?" Eliron asked, his finger oozing out smoke.

Azarath was still floating in the air, but now, he looked more like a corpse than the grand mage.

His body was scorched, and chunks of flesh were missing from his frame, even his cloak had been ripped apart.

Yet, Azarath stared down at him with those same, menacing red eyes.

"I have to say..." his flesh began to mend itself. Muscles grew back, reconnecting bones, nerves returned to their right positions, and soon, he was as good as new.

Azarath stretched and stared down at Eliron. "You are an aberration to nature. The worst type of dissonance."

"If people like you are allowed to exist, then the world is sure to go out of order soon. Forgive me Elven lord, I truly have a reason to kill you now."

There was a loud demonic wail, and then suddenly, a large gate appeared right above Azarath.

The gates were black, the only other colour being the white, humanoid bones that were engraved into it.

The faces of what seemed to be vestiges of tortured souls were wailing, their necks attached to the malovalent gate.

Azarath smiled.

"This is an SSS Ranked skill of my own."

[Gates Of Sheol]

"Now be a darling, and step in."

I gate creaked open, and out of it came a monster that would cause even the bravest heroes to falter.