The Elven Evolution: Starting With 1 Million SSSR Skills-Chapter 195: [] Endurance
Artie stared up at the high elf in front of her and instantly, her temperature rose several degrees.
All her life, high elves had been the bane of the wood elves’ existence. They had systematically culled their population, bullied them into submission, and ruthlessly killed any promising elf.
Although Artie seemed exceptional, she was one of the least powerful nobles from her generation several years ago. The rest of them were long dead.
She was angry, livid in fact. But she was far too cool-headed to make a foolish move.
Artie was here to register at the magic tower, not cause a scene that could potentially get her banned from the place.
Besides, the high elf in front of her seemed to be around 150 years old, which was three times her age.
For elven mages and warriors, more often than not, age was usually directly proportional to strength.
Well, except if you were Eliron.
To put it in perspective, the high elf’s age meant he had been practicing magic for far longer than Artie had been alive. As much as she wanted to punch that smug face of his in, Artie knew it was a very bad idea.
Still, no matter how she looked at it, it seemed she would not be able to leave without a confrontation.
Artie tried to move to the other side, but two other people blocked her; one was a human, and to her surprise, the other was a half elf.
"Are you deaf? Or are those ears on your head for decoration?" The high elf sneered. "I said this is no place for a laggard like you!"
"What is a race that practices inferior magic even doing at a magic tower?" he asked out loud, the two beside him laughing like he had told the most hilarious joke in the world.
He had a wide grin on his face himself, but when he saw Artie was staring straight into his eyes instead of down like most wood elves did, all mirth vanished from his voice. His nostrils flared, his gaze darkening.
"How insolent. How dare a shitling like you meet my gaze? Do you want me to visit that shit-hole village of yours?"
He leaned a little closer, his mana so harsh that it stung Artie’s skin.
"Everything you’ve suffered till now will be child’s play the next time you look at me like that. I won’t have mercy on you just because you have a pretty face..."
"I’ll carve it up, slowly, right in front of the scum that birthed you."
A look flashed across Artie’s face. She opened her mouth, but closed it shortly after.
She breathed out. Slowly. Then she turned around to leave, her fists so tight that her knuckles were white. ’Another day...’
Confronting him would bear no fruit, the best thing she could do was leave and come back on a day he was not around.
Artie could try calling the attention of the officials. But who would they side with? An untested wood elf? Or a high elf, a race that was seen to be at the height of magic?
A wizard no less.
As she began to descend the stairs, the high elf smirked. "Actually, whose slave is this even?" His smile deepened.
"It seems you haven’t disciplined her well."
Artie froze, a dreadful feeling of cold encapsulating her as icy arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders.
Her sister’s ghost leaned towards her ear, a crazed look in her eyes as she whispered.
’Are you really going to let him talk to you like that?’
In an instant, Artie turned. Mid-motion, her black magic staff appeared in her hands, the runes glowing vibrantly.
Swooosh—!
A large streak of lightning poured out of Artie’s staff. The air simmered with heat, the crackle of electricity filling her ears as the magic gave off a thunderous roar.
Bang!
Dust flew into the air, surrounding the high elf. But once it settled, Artie frowned.
’I fell for his baiting,’ she cursed internally.
The two mages were standing in front of the high elf, their staffs forward, a magic shield crumbling to pieces.
They had defended him.
Murmurs began to spread through the crowd.
— Did she really just attack Tiberius?
— She attacked a wizard of the tower at the tower??
— This is bad...
"Lord T-Tiberius..." the female mage stuttered as she watched Artie. She was surprised by how much force had been behind the spell.
If she had not been assisted by the second mage, then the spell would have torn right through her defences.
And yet, she was sure that was not the wood elf’s most powerful spell.
"We can’t forgive this disrespect," she said.
"For a lowly thing like her to attack a wizard... if we don’t retaliate, everyone will think they can do as they please," the second mage added.
Tiberius wiped the dust off his clothes, a stoic look on his face.
"Are you saying I should lower myself to the level of a brute?"
The mages froze and shared a look.
Tiberius took a step down the stairs, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he stared at Artie.
"You have attacked a mage of the tower in the presence of his juniors. As such, I cannot let this matter slide."
’Here it comes...’ Artie thought.
"As a sign of my benevolence, I will not face you myself. A wizard facing an unregistered mage is like an eagle fighting a worm."
"Instead, I will give you the honour of dueling one of my attendants. Ariel!"
The female mage walked up to him, her green robe fluttering in the wind.
"You will be the one to face her."
Ariel nodded, accepting the challenge.
"Alright then, let us—"
"And why the hell would I agree to your duel?" Artie cut Tiberius off, staring coldly at him. "I am not a mage of the tower, as such, I am not bound to your flimsy customs."
A vein ticked on Tiberius’ head.
"You will shame yourself by refusing an honourable duel?"
"..."
Tiberius gritted his teeth, holding back the urge to eviscerate her right where she stood.
’This infidel!’
Normally, there would be no need for a duel. Tiberius could have punished her right where she stood and been done with it.
But that wasn’t enough...
Just now, he had felt the magic power behind that strike. It was nothing compared to what the high elven mages could do, but that was until you considered her age.
The woman in front of him was like a child at best, likely not even older than sixty. And yet, she had already reached such a level.
Tiberius did not know how his elders had missed her, or what driving force had pushed her to grow so fast.
But now that she had wandered into his hands, he could not let her walk free.
’I’ll lose my tower rank if I kill her in cold blood...’
But in a duel? Mistakes were only natural.
"I assume you came here to join the tower, didn’t you?" Tiberius raised a hand towards her.
"As a wizard of the tower, I will benevolently make you an offer. If you are able to defeat my disciples in a duel, I will use my authority to grant you membership. What do you say?"
Tiberius had laid the bait. The question though was, would she bite?
The wood elf suddenly vanished. And for a second, Tiberius thought she had escaped.
That was until he heard her emotionless voice from behind him.
"What are we waiting for?" Artie said, as she pushed the doors to the magic tower open.
...
A/N
Magic ranks and robe colours (for registered mages). I forgot to add them in the last Chapter.
Novice — Red
Second Class — Green
First Class Mage — Grey
Wizard/Witch — Indigo
Grand Mage — Wine
Arc Mage — White
Magus Supreme — Black and Gold threads
