This young one in front of me, in my prime, was someone I could kill with a few spells. Yet now I was having a difficult battle.
I could not accept such a thing, someone who had the blood of those b*stards was smiling so brightly against me.
Why? Does he not fear death? Does he not fear pain? Does he not care that I can take everything he has?
"It doesn't matter... I will carve fear into your very souls."
"Then come and try it!"
The second the young man said those words, the woman mage raised her staff, and several illusions obscured my vision.
The false images were obvious. Mana clung to every illusion like thin threads. To ordinary eyes, the chamber had become filled with countless copies of the young man and his companions. To me, they were merely hollow shapes created from mana.
"I, who can see through the very essence of mana, no illusion would work on me."
