Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Shrouded by layers of concealment spells, Merlin watched as wave after wave of blood beasts slammed into the barrier, only to be repelled each time.

They clawed, bit, and hurled their bodies at it in a frenzy, but no matter how violently they attacked, not a single scratch appeared on its surface.

In fact, many of the weaker beasts even died as a result of the brutal stampede. But none of that mattered. All these mindless beasts cared for at the moment was to get to their mother and aid her.

But for that… they would need to overcome the crimson barrier set in place by Merlin.

It was important to note that the barrier was far stronger than any Rank 2 Spell in general because it was reinforced by runic magic.

The youth’s knowledge of runic magic was considerable. Given that, he had enriched his understanding of it after studying several tomes from the Brotherhood’s archives, the founder’s journals, and absorbing memories inside the lotus.

At this point, Merlin—or rather, Adam—could be considered an expert in runic magic… well, according to the standards of Tron at least.

So he was fairly certain that the waves of blood beasts would be unable to overcome the barrier he had set in place.

He was also quite certain of the young Magi’s capabilities to defeat the Mother of Flesh inside the barrier.

Now, all that was left of him was to deal with as many blood beasts around him, ensuring that they did not put too much pressure on the barrier.

They were also still an abundant source of blood cores.

Well, well, well… now, how should I deal with these beasts?

He thought to himself, stroking his non-existent beard in a comical way. If one saw his temperament at the moment, they’d never believe that he was surrounded by hundreds of bloodthirsty creatures.

Merlin was like a lone boat sailing through a stormy ocean of hunger and madness.

Yet, his espression was carefree and detached. It was as if he did not care about the threats these abominations posed. Or more precisely… they did not pose a threat to him at all.

Hmm, I can’t use the Staff of Calamity for obvious reasons, he thought.

Similarly, Nighthollow is also out of the question. I’m sure those three runts will recognize it.

So, what do I do then? Hmm…

Slowly, his lips curled into a smirk.

Well, I’ve got the spirit of a jester, so shouldn’t I just dance?

Suddenly, his eyebrows arched in surprise, and his pale blue eyes flickered with realization and understanding.

Wait… dance?

He recalled one of the first techniques he had absorbed through the memories of one of the experts from the Greater Universe.

The Astral Tyrant Manual.

A body enhancement technique, one that taught the user to channel their mana within their body and wrap it around their limbs to enhance combat capabilities.

An extremely rare and precious technique, it had been discovered by the expert within the depths of an ancient ruin, belonging to a long-lost civilization drowned by the river of time.

The manual comprised of three parts: a method to constantly strengthen the body and advance through the ranks, a set of hand-to-hand magic combat techniques, and finally a footwork technqiue.

These three laid the foundation for unbridled carnage through sheer, relentless battle.

The magic combat technique was called the Hand of Doom, whereas the footwork technique was known as the Stellar Steps.

The Astral Tyrant Manual also contained a close-quarter technique that contained a series of moves discharged from the fists, elbows, knees, and feet, effectively using almost every body part as a weapon.

Each strike had immense penetrative power thanks to the overbearing and tyrannical nature of the user’s mana. This technique was performed in tandem with the Stellar Steps.

When utilized, the technique caused the user to move like a specter caught in a drunken dance.

Graceful, unpredictable, and utterly terrifying to behold.

”The Phantom Dance,” Merlin muttered under his breath.

It was strange. Despite being one of the first legacies he had inherited, he still didn’t know much about this elusive battle art.

After all, he had never properly used it.

In battles, he would mostly always depend on his wide arsenal of magic spells and the techniques from the Hand of Doom.

But the Phantom Dance…

The number of times he had utilized this battle art could be counted on one hand.

Merlin sighed, thinking to himself, Such a precious battle art, and I’ve allowed it to catch dust in the vast memory vault inside my mind.

Have I started taking things for granted?

He breathed in deeply, then exhaled a long sigh.

Then, he sacrificed a wolf’s nail, weaved a simple hand seal, and cast a spell.

Rank 2 Spell: Werewolf Claw!

Mana surged through his arms, his veins pulsing with raw, bestial power. His fingers twitched, then cracked inhumanely as bones and muscles shifted.

Thick, black fur sprouted along his forearms, and his nails elongated into curved, obsidian claws… resembling those of the creatures of the night, gleaming with deadly intent.

Merlin cancelled the concealment spell, instantly drawing the attention of blood beasts in the vicinity.

He squatted a little, hands raised high into an unusual fighting stance.

Then… he burst into a Phantom Dance.

His claws shot out in a whirlwind of violence as he dove into the horde of blood beasts. Merlin’s grin turned wider as he channeled the sadistic persona of the Joker.

Today, he would dance till his heart’s content. There were hundreds of targets lying sprawled before him, after all.

More than enough to master the basics of the Phantom Dance.

***

Meanwhile, the situation inside the barrier was just as dire—if not worse—than what the madman faced outside.

Realizing that it was trapped within the terrifying crimson walls, the Mother of Flesh shrieked maniacally, its countless eyes locking in on the four parties of young Magi surrounding her.

However, before her tendrils even had the chance to move in order to squash them…

The young Magi had already made their move.

Each of the party members hurled a wooden barrel skyward, each filled with a mysterious, volatile substance, every one of them aimed directly above the towering abomination.

Enraged, the creature roared and lashed out with its meaty tendrils, swatting the barrels mid-air.

And that… was the beginning of its doom.