No matter how powerful concealment might be, it was still concealment.
Since it was concealment, that meant the target still possessed a form, perhaps an energy body, but in any case, it existed. It was simply undetectable to others.
And as long as it existed, Alaric had a way to drag it out.
"I'll ask one last time," Alaric said in a warning tone. "Are you really not coming out?"
There was still no response.
Alaric shook his head helplessly.
"In that case, don't blame me for being impolite."
"Magic Miasma!"
Alaric interlaced his hands and chanted, and rainbow-hued magical mist spread out from his palms, filling the entire room in an instant.
Originally, the purpose of Magic Miasma was to reduce the efficiency of mana usage within its area through inert magical energy, in simple terms, to weaken magical effects within the range.
But when cast by a legendary mage like Alaric, it was far from that simple.
The Magic Miasma he produced had now truly become magic miasma, within the fog's range, it was effectively his domain.
By altering the properties of the mist, Alaric could change the environment inside it at will.
For example,
"Magic Miasma · Grave Mist!"
As Alaric altered the miasma's properties, the inert magical fog shifted under his command.
In no time at all, the entire room grew frigid, frost forming across the floor as if winter in the far north had descended in an instant.
One had to remember, Egypt lay in a tropical region. It knew no spring, summer, autumn, or winter, only rainy and dry seasons.
No matter the season, such all-freezing cold should never exist here.
Yet this chill did not come from ice-element energy.
It came from negative energy.
The frost was merely a byproduct. The true danger of negative energy lay in the damage it inflicted upon life.
Negative energy represented the extreme of energy depletion. In such a state, the miasma would drain the vitality of all living beings, dealing continuous damage.
When a creature's life force was exhausted, it would wither and die, its soul lost forever, beyond the reach of any resurrection.
The body left behind would become an undead creature, craving the hunt of the living.
To any living being, Grave Mist was an absolute killer.
And yet, still no reaction.
Within the domain of the magic miasma, Alaric possessed perfect perception, but he sensed no movement whatsoever.
The fog seemed to have no effect on that existence at all, it didn't even attempt to leave the miasma's range. Alaric's soul-sense confirmed this.
One had to know that while everything in the room was inanimate, under the influence of such concentrated negative energy it was still beginning to decay.
The bed and wooden furniture, in particular, were nearly rotting to dust.
The powerful negative-energy fog was certainly having an effect.
"So that's how it is," Alaric frowned even deeper.
"No one could remain indifferent to this kind of fog. Either this 'god' is unimaginably powerful… or it's a being of the Underworld.
Only such beings would be unaffected by negative energy."
To be honest, Alaric didn't really believe the first possibility.
Aside from a few oddities, most gods were proud. Faced with such provocative magic, Alaric found it hard to believe that a powerful god would willingly continue hiding.
And if the other party was an Underworld being…
"Magic Miasma · Radiant Fog!"
In the next instant, the cold, dark fog transformed completely, swinging from one extreme to the other, becoming brilliantly radiant and blindingly bright.
Now, within the fog, there was nothing to see but an endless expanse of searing white light.
An ordinary person inside it would have to wear an eye covering and keep their eyes tightly shut.
This mist was composed of energy opposite to negative energy, positive energy.
Positive energy was what life required to exist, but that did not mean this fog was safer than Grave Mist.
Within the fog, the body would be flooded with life energy. Wounds would be healed, and the being within would gradually grow stronger.
However, once that strengthening reached its limit, the overloaded body would be consumed by blazing white flames erupting from within.
Alaric's guess was correct.
Sure enough, the moment the magic miasma transformed into Radiant Fog, the hidden presence in the room reacted immediately.
In an instant, Alaric sensed something manifesting in a corner of the room, within the fog.
What… was that?
What… was that?
That holiness.
That solemnity.
That dignified, awe-inspiring posture.
That flawless, immaculate white body, revealing only a pair of eyes and legs.
It was like,
It was like,
It was like someone had draped a sheet or blanket over themselves, then drawn eyebrows and eyes with nothing more than kindergarten-level artistic skill…
What the hell is that thing?!
The white creature, with only eyes and legs, shot Alaric a thoroughly displeased look.
Its simply drawn eyebrows and eyes tilted upward from neutral to angry, so those weren't drawn on? They could move?
Before Alaric could even voice his internal complaint, those eyes fired a powerful laser beam straight at him.
Golden light pierced through the fog toward Alaric. Though greatly weakened by the magic miasma, he could still sense terrifying power within it.
Yet Alaric did not panic.
Just before the beam struck him,
"Contingency: Activate."
"Spell Matrix, Greater: Activate."
"Spell Sequencer: Trigger."
"Attack source: divine light-beam attack. Countermeasures, Ray Deflection, Ray Deanimation!"
The preconfigured spells instantly erased the incoming beam without a trace.
Such a sudden light-beam attack might have caught others off guard, but to Alaric, cautious, experienced, and layered with defenses, it was nothing to worry about.
And by now, Alaric had recognized the identity of the white creature.
The god Medjed.
A subordinate of Osiris, god of the Underworld, capable of firing beams from his eyes, yet impossible to be seen.
And in the lore of the Type-Moon world, Medjed shared a particularly close connection with the female Pharaoh, Nitocris.