Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

After giving Fort a good scolding in his mind, Francis finally let out a long sigh and began to retreat downward with a trace of helplessness in his expression.

There was no helping it—whoever had attacked him from the shadows was clearly aiming to prevent him from making contact with Isabella.

In other words, keeping his distance from Isabella at this moment might ironically be the best way to keep her safe. If he insisted on moving forward and reuniting with her, then whether that little girl would make it out alive was anyone's guess.

Meanwhile, under the massive tree, the mysterious man who had been fighting Alan for some time now suddenly stopped his offensive.

He stood still, eyes narrowed, carefully studying Alan.

Alan frowned deeply, keeping his gaze locked on the man as he asked, "What, not going to keep attacking?"

The mysterious man gave a faint smirk. "Kid, that kind of tone might scare some people, but me? Forget it."

Alan's expression grew colder at that, and he gripped his Lumen Sancta staff tightly, voice low and steady. "Why don't you test it and find out for yourself?"

The stranger rolled his eyes with a scoff. "What do you think I've been doing? Warming up?"

"I've already figured out your level. It doesn't match the bounty posters. You're no tier-bronze magus."

Alan chuckled.

"I've never once claimed I was a tier-bronze…"

Before the words had even fully left his mouth, Alan vanished entirely from the stranger's line of sight. In the next instant, his figure reappeared behind the man like a phantom.

With a voice laced with danger, Alan growled, "And you… are not worthy of knowing!"

Whoosh!

Lumen Sancta tore through the air with a shrill whistle as Alan slashed it down toward the back of the man's exposed neck with lethal intent.

But the moment the staff made contact, Alan was shocked to see that the man's skin suddenly shimmered with a strange, pale white glow.

Incredibly, the Lumen Sancta passed straight through the man's body, dealing no harm whatsoever—just as if the man were some kind of ghost, completely lacking physical form.

"No… this isn't a ghost!"

Alan quickly corrected himself. Based on the bizarre reactions during their earlier exchanges and the faint mana fluctuations he was now sensing, he reached a conclusion.

This mysterious attacker hadn't turned into a ghost at all.

Right before Alan's strike landed, the man had activated an elemental spell, transforming part of his body into pure elemental energy—effectively "elementalizing" himself. This elemental form resembled a ghostly figure only in appearance but was an entirely different phenomenon in principle.

After all, Lumen Sancta, while appearing like a blade forged of light, was in fact a physical object. Against a body composed entirely of intangible elemental force, it made sense that Alan would feel no feedback from his strike.

Realizing this, Alan sneered.

In the blink of an eye, six more swords appeared in his hands—each one radiating a different elemental hue alongside his original glowing Lumen Sancta.

From their brief skirmish, Alan had discerned that the enemy's elementalization was not an endlessly repeatable technique. It must've been a last resort—a desperate move—and could not be sustained or used too often.

That meant his strategy was simple: attack. Relentless, overwhelming attack.

Attack until the enemy was too exhausted to react, too slow to turn the right body part into elemental essence.

The mysterious man clearly noticed the shift in Alan's stance and the growing number of blades in his hands.

His brows furrowed slightly in irritation. "You're quick on the uptake, aren't you, kid?"

"Right back at you," Alan replied calmly.

With that, Alan once again vanished from view, this time reappearing directly above the enemy.

"First Sword!"

Alan thrust downward with incredible speed, wielding a sword infused with the wind element.

As one of the six base elements, wind was the fastest by nature. Even without the added explosiveness of the fire element, wind's innate destructive force was nothing to scoff at.

Just as Alan struck, the mysterious man moved as well.

His speed, too, was formidable—matching Alan's wind-enhanced agility step for step.

But instead of dodging, the man twisted at the waist and countered with a powerful whip kick aimed straight upward.

This time, the air around them twisted even more violently from the force of his motion.

And from such a close range, Alan could feel the pressure, the sheer mana Overpressure packed into that kick—it was immense.

No wonder this man dared to block an elemental sword with nothing but his leg.

Alan estimated that any magus below the tier-platinum level would likely lose their staff if they tried something similar. Even if they unleashed a devastating attack, it'd probably be shattered outright by this guy's leg.

A body honed to its limits was, in itself, a terrifying weapon.

Sure enough, the moment the wind-element sword collided with the man's whip kick, Alan felt his weapon begin to waver, as if something inside it had been thrown off-balance and started spiraling out of control.

Even more alarmingly, the man's leg carried traces of the wind element as well.

At this moment, it was as if two tornadoes had crashed into each other—both high-speed and highly volatile, clashing with terrifying force. The resulting impact was sure to rattle both sides.

But Alan had no intention of backing down.

Since he had chosen to attack, he would see it through to the end.

His enemy would either die—or get skinned alive.

In Alan's world, there was no room for retreat. No word for "compromise."

"Light Sword Spell!"

Alan roared as he unleashed his deadliest trump card.

The reason he hadn't opened with it was simple: he had suspected the man was holding back.

If Alan had used his strongest move right away, the enemy might have sensed the danger and simply fled.

But this man had already injured Francis. There was no way Alan would let him off that easily.

He had to finish this—before the man had the chance to escape.

As fire elements surged into the wind sword, the mana architecture within stabilized once more. Mana Overpressure, terrifying in scale, flowed like veins through the blade, reinforcing every inch with immense power.

The sword in Alan's hand now swelled in size, transforming into a massive greatsword of flames, thick and imposing like a slab of iron.

Feeling the sudden surge in Alan's aura—and seeing the flame blade grow several times larger—the mysterious man's smug calm finally vanished.

For the first time, a hint of panic crept across his face.

Still, he didn't run.

He knew: if he had any chance of survival, it lay in fighting back. Giving up would mean certain death.

Gritting his teeth, he forcefully resisted the surging mana Overpressure pouring off the flame sword and lashed out once more with a powerful whip kick, this time striking directly at the blade.

"Shatter!"

The man muttered a rune word—a word of power meant to enhance his physical strength.

An instant later, a deafening explosion rang out.

The earth split apart beneath them. Trees in the vicinity collapsed in waves, blown outward by the shockwave. Even the clouds above were torn open, revealing a massive hole in the sky from the mana backlash.

And then Alan noticed—

As the man's whip kick collided with the greatsword of flames, he had done something shocking:

He had elementalized his entire leg.

In the blink of an eye, the flaming blade passed straight through it—harmlessly.

The limb, having turned into pure elemental energy, phased through the sword and then re-solidified on the other side as a flesh-and-blood leg once again.