Chapter 134: Besieging the "Wild Boss" Old Wang (Part 1)

“Now that is interesting,” Old Wong exclaimed appreciatively.

Manifesting weapons through magical power should fall under the school of evocation, the same category as Frostbolt and Fireball.

Judging by magical power alone, these Kamar-Taj apprentices were fully capable of matching the proper mages of Azeroth. Their methods, however, seemed rather limited. They could not even compare with the apprentices of Dalaran.

How could respectable mages know neither Frostbolt nor Fireball, but instead use whips? Even if the Ancient One ran a strict household and Kamar-Taj observed abstinence, there was no need to go that far. It was bad for the body. Ropes and candles seemed considerably gentler.

So what exactly were they—mages or succubi?

Wong did not need to say another word. Every scientist, Fizz included, retreated at once. Skye and Daredevil sprang into action, while Stick and “Black Sky” Elektra, having heard the commotion, hurried over as well.

Those who needed to flee fled; when it was time to strike, they struck.

They rushed in with great fanfare, eager to claim the kills.

Wong could clearly sense that every apprentice possessed a channel of magical power resembling a passage through space-time. An endless stream of power flowed in from beyond the universe.

That power came from the Vishanti, the triune gods—magical entities far more powerful than either the Sorcerer Supreme or Odin.

The mages of Kamar-Taj were different from the mages of Azeroth. In truth, they resembled clerics from certain other traditions.

The mages of Azeroth possessed formidable magical power of their own, while also drawing upon the omnipresent energies of magic. Their spells were often devastating. A single Fireball could rival a shoulder-fired rocket or grenade.

One mage was a mobile artillery platform.

Earth was not Azeroth. There was no ley network here. The mages of Kamar-Taj drew all their power from extra dimensions or magical entities beyond the universe, and the amount they could obtain varied from person to person.

The lofty powers of the multiverse naturally paid no attention to insignificant mages. How much power one could receive probably depended on time, knowledge, or certain rituals.

Even their spells were related to the power they received.

The power granted by the Vishanti allowed for shaping, invisibility, telepathy, flight, and more. The power granted by the Dark Dimension, on the other hand, bestowed abilities related to the void and immortality.

That was why Kaecilius had pledged himself to Dormammu, and why the Ancient One, Sorcerer Supreme, could live for centuries or even millennia.

It was no different from clerics obtaining divine magic through prayer.

Mages? They were plainly priests worshiping the Vishanti or Dormammu!

Power that came too easily was often difficult to wield perfectly.

With shallow knowledge and feeble spirits, it was hard to control powerful magic. The mages of Kamar-Taj were certainly weaker than Azerothian mages of the same level. Perhaps only the Ancient One could truly be called legendary on the whole of Earth.

Daredevil clearly did not know enough about mages. He was struggling from the very beginning. The enemy’s endless whips, ropes, shields, and longswords made it difficult for him to defend himself, and even in close combat he could not gain the upper hand—

A mage whose fighting ability was actually stronger than his spellcasting? Had these people been sent by Gandalf as a joke?

A palm thrust in a straight line, a staff sweeping across a wide area!

Daredevil was a monk now.

A monk was not the weakest Iron Fist in history. Chi could be concentrated not only in one’s fists, but also attached to any object, such as titanium-alloy gauntlets or a titanium-alloy staff.

The equipment Wong had given him was naturally excellent, and Fizz had made several targeted improvements as well.

One-on-one, or even one-against-five, would not have been a problem. But there were far more than five opponents.

Whip after whip lashed across his body. Without his protective chi, he would have been covered in wounds by now.

Fortunately, there was still Skye.

The unknown was the best ability of all.

The moment she struck, unprecedented shock waves sent several people flying. The bizarre attack stunned everyone present.

But she was still inexperienced, and her combat instincts were not yet honed.

Using the same technique a second time made it easy for the enemy to see through it.

The mages summoned shields in advance and raised them to block. The shock waves struggled to achieve any effect.

Worse, Skye was easily injured by the waves rebounding toward her. Her entire body rippled like a wave, its crests and troughs reaching astonishing heights. The sight was enough to take one’s breath away.

The apprentices lived at Kamar-Taj, where women were few. They rarely ventured outside in their pursuit of knowledge and power, and were, without exception, shut-in men. The sight before them dealt catastrophic damage. For a moment they stood dumbfounded, as though afflicted by a debuff that greatly reduced both their movement speed and attack speed.

Some kind of slowing or hindering effect?

Watching this, Skye could not help feeling puzzled.

Could this be the true essence of shock waves?

Was this the direction I ought to pursue relentlessly?

Less than ten seconds after the battle began, the two of them encountered danger.

A long whip swept toward Skye from behind, trying to bind her. Its angle was vicious, its movement impossibly slick.

Inhumans and mutants were often powerful in only one particular area, with equally obvious weaknesses. Skye was no exception.

The apprentice casting the spell wore a sinister expression. He was about to succeed.

Suddenly, a slightly plump figure stepped behind Skye, back to back and shoulder to shoulder with her.

Wong casually struck out with one palm.

Thunder boomed. Furious lightning roared. The apprentice, unable to summon a shield in time, was blasted backward.

His ribs shattered, his chest caved in, and his internal organs became minced meat in a kitchen, seared in scalding chi. Fragrance seemed to pour from every orifice. His health bar instantly dropped to zero, yet a soul drifted free.

A mage was still a mage. Even an apprentice possessed a soul powerful enough to exist independently.

They had originally thought this would be a simple treasure hunt, like using a cleaver to butcher a chicken. Instead, it had become an impossible mission: challenging a powerful world boss in the wild. The apprentices were filled with resentment.

A newborn calf did not fear the tiger. Ignorance bred fearlessness. He was like that minor character who had once shouted that “twenty Iron Man suits can conquer Asia.” This apprentice still believed Wong’s strength lay solely in his physical body.

He had no idea that Wong’s body was actually his weak point. His soul was the truly formidable part.

“Kill him! Drag him down to Hell!”

“If we die, we die together!”

The apprentice clawed and snarled, determined to drag Wong into the grave with him.

At that moment, Wong glanced at him through the crowd.

Thunder boomed, and bolts of lightning flew in every direction.

Shattered-Jade Lightning!

A green bolt struck the apprentice’s soul.

If you want your reincarnation to go smoothly, you need to carry a little green on your head.

The essence of a soul was energy as well. Though it could not be harmed by physical means, before lightning it was like a beautiful bubble—bursting at the slightest touch.

Amid shriek after shriek, the soul scattered into nothingness.

Wong gently shook his head.

He had originally intended to use the opportunity to train Skye and Daredevil. Who could have expected the difficulty to be so high? Two level-thirty characters had entered a Scarlet Monastery of the same level. Forget clearing it—they could not even handle the elite trash mobs.

Stick and Elektra were still on their way. The Winter Soldier had not yet recovered from his frozen state, and still carried a mental-control debuff.

Only two members of a five-person party had arrived. How were they supposed to fight?

The main character had to take the field.

A level-seventy monk carrying the party through the dungeon— even completely unequipped, nothing would be a problem.

Thunderous Crash!

Howl Across the Eight Directions!

Drunken Brew Toss!

Spinning Fire Strike!

One skill after another appeared like the facets of a kaleidoscope. Chi danced with arcane energy, while earth, fire, water, and wind rose and fell in succession.

Screams rang out without pause. The once-pristine laboratory became a slaughterhouse.

Compared with these apprentices, Wong looked more like the mage.

One wondered whether they felt ashamed.

Kamar-Taj practiced both magic and martial arts, so its inhabitants naturally possessed sturdy physiques. But even that could not withstand Wong’s bare hands.

The orange-yellow magical shields possessed sufficient defensive power, but their casting times were far too long. How could they compare with the nimble, plump man before them?

Several fell in the blink of an eye. Wong showed no mercy.

Through his actions, he was teaching these Kamar-Taj rookies a simple lesson:

Monster hunting is dangerous. Buy insurance first!