Chapter 176: Level Drain! Contingency – Seventh-Tier Magic

Words : 1354 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

The iron sword swung. Once again, blood splattered. The grey-robed mage died for the second, or was it the third?—time. [Experience Gained: 10,003] [EXP Bar: 75,980 / 120,000] "Raise Dead." Lyle's gaze sharpened as the soul of the grey-robed mage floated upward once again, spectral and twitching. A vibrant blue glow erupted with the appearance of a magic circle. The sheer pressure of fifth-tier magic caused the air to grow heavy, thick with mana. "Aaargh—!" The mage screamed as life returned to him, and the first thing he did was frantically roll away from Lyle, clawing backward like a startled crab trying to avoid a cookpot. Terror twisted his face. This wasn't going as planned. The mage's confidence had always come from two things: his powerful patron—the so-called "Leader" of the Zurrernorn—and his trump card: resurrection magic. So what if he died? He could always come back. Sure, he'd lose some strength, but with enough time, he'd recover it. But now? Now his opponent also knew resurrection magic. And was apparently very happy to use it against him. That was terrifying. Even worse, each resurrection was costing him something far more vital than time. His strength. His essence. His soul. This time, he didn't care about dignity. He flailed and rolled through the muck like a drenched chicken. If he died again... if he truly lost all power... then there wouldn't be anything left to bring back. He'd be gone. As a magic-user who operated on the Heroic tier, powerful enough to make noblemen bow and scrape in any nation—it was inconceivable to him that he might die like this. In a swamp. Like a dog. Damn it all! "I—I have gold! Magic items! Rare enchanted scrolls!" the grey-robed mage screeched, voice cracking like a snapped wand. "You're a spellcaster too—you know how hard it is to get your hands on true high-tier magic!" He didn't expect Lyle to actually agree. He just needed him to hesitate. A moment. A breath. Enough time to cast something—anything—and make a break for it. Thud. A dull sound echoed through the trees. The mage's eyes rolled back as he collapsed in a heap, unconscious once again. Lyle looked down at the man sprawled at his feet and snorted. "You're surprisingly agile for a spell-slinger." He reached into his coat and pulled out a pocketwatch. With a quiet calculation, he checked the time... then, without a word, brought his sword down in one clean arc. Blood beaded and ran along the blade's edge. This time, Lyle didn't activate his [Mad Mage] class skills. He used only his natural mana, saving one more use of Mad Meditation for later. [Experience Gained: 4,251] [MP: 188 → 138] "Raise Dead." Hmm? Lyle's eyes narrowed. The experience gain had dropped sharply—from over 10,000 down to barely 4,000. "And his soul's not as clear anymore either... more blurry," he murmured. Thanks to his [Shaman Adept] passive, Lyle could clearly observe the state of a soul post-mortem. With each death, not only had the mage's level dropped, but his soul itself had grown more unstable. "Looks like strength isn't just physical. Soul strength matters too. Probably scales with level." As his mind worked through the implications, his sword hand didn't pause. Squelch. [Experience Gained: 676] [MP: 138 → 88] "Raise Dead." Squelch. Another slash. Another death. This time, Lyle chose not to resurrect him again. He crouched beside the limp body, calculating. "Experience gain's dropped to three digits. He must've fallen below level 20." His voice was calm, almost academic. Hero-tier spellcasters typically sat somewhere between level 29 to 35. Counting the kills, this guy had died five times now. Lyle estimated his current level was somewhere between 9 and 15. Pathetic. Click. Another glance at his pocketwatch. Time to prepare the second contingency. Lyle opened his inventory and withdrew a huge bucket of troll blood. With practiced ease, he began drawing a ritual array on the muddy ground. If this grey-robed mage really belonged to the Zurrernorn, then his master—the mysterious leader, would likely be able to sense his repeated deaths. Lyle didn't know how long it would take for that leader to prepare a remote resurrection ritual. But he had a reference. The last time, when he killed that weasel Khajiit, he'd timed it. This gave him a rough estimate. He didn't revive the grey mage again just yet. He wanted to test something. If both he and the leader cast resurrection at the same time, where would the body revive? This mattered. A lot. Because soon, he'd have to deal with Quaiesse. Worst-case scenario? The leader's ritual used some exotic resurrection method—stronger than the standard fifth-tier Raise Dead. It could yank the soul from under Lyle's nose. That couldn't happen. Not without him having a countermeasure ready. After all, in this world, even divine magic could be bent by sheer will and creativity. Just because someone followed the rules didn't mean the rest of the world would. So—prepare for the worst. Unfortunately, his modified Raise Dead consumed absurd amounts of mana, and his Faith-based spellcasting levels were still too low to cast high-tier divine spells regularly. Kneeling low, he carefully completed the magic circle. An hour passed. The ritual was finally ready. Lyle glanced at the mage's body—still unmoving. Good. He stepped into the center of the ritual. Hummm— With a surge of his mana, the ritual circle connected to him. A brilliant sigil flared to life beneath his feet—engraved with stars and branches, pulsing with divine light. A wave of pressure pushed outward, catching his robes and flaring them out like sails. "Spell Ascension... Seventh-Tier Magic—" Light exploded in the darkness. White radiance erupted overhead, forming a five-meter-wide spell array suspended in the air. From it, sacred power flowed like a celestial tide. A second, smaller array, only three meters across—formed atop the first. Twin-layered spell matrices. Divine power crackling in the air like a hymn made of thunder. Tiny white sparks drifted through the air like gentle fireflies, but their brilliance illuminated the swamp and scattered the dense fog like frightened animals. Even the stench of blood was wiped away. Lyle looked up at the glowing symbols, slightly stunned. "...Bit flashy, huh?" The difference between fifth-tier and seventh-tier magic was staggering. Even for him. The spell started pulling mana hard. "Mad Meditation!" With a wordless pulse of intent, Lyle activated his class skill, halting the mana drain and stabilizing the spell. "Resurrection." This was seventh-tier magic: True Resurrection, cast through the fifth-tier spell and amplified via Magic Elevation. Just as the final energy converged—Lyle's eyes gleamed. Time to use another ace up his sleeve. "Spell Preload!" In an instant, all the magic—light, sound, pressure—vanished. The area returned to darkness. But the spell was now safely stored in his [Mad Archnage]'s passive: a loaded seventh-tier resurrection, ready to be unleashed at any moment. "Done." Lyle exhaled slowly, a satisfied smile curling on his lips. If that damned leader tried to steal the mage's soul back with a stronger ritual, Lyle would counter with Resurrection and take him back again. Bzzt— [Seventh-Tier Magic Detected: Resurrection] [Requirement: Faith Caster Level 43–49. Current Level: Insufficient.] Lyle glanced at the system prompt and clicked his tongue. His current Faith caster level sat at 40, even counting his newly acquired [Mad Mage] class. Still not enough. "Then we wait." He turned to the lifeless corpse of the grey mage, whispering more to himself than to anyone else. Meanwhile... Azerlisia Mountains Mountain Range – Land of Molten Magma A towering mountain chain dividing the Empire and the Kingdom, where the peaks should be eternally snow-covered. Instead, this section of the mountains defied all logic. The air itself shimmered with blistering heat. It burned like invisible fire. Here, one breath was enough to sear a man's lungs. And death was only ever one gasp away.

Chapter 176: Level Drain! Contingency – Seventh-Tier Magic

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