Dragon Devouring Mage Chapter 251


Dragon devouring mage


With a collective shout, the opposing forces charged into battle, clashing against each other.


Waves of spears and swords collided, sharp metallic sounds pouring out incessantly. Amidst the chaos, the air filled with screams and cries of agony.

All-out war.

Murderous intent, violence, chaos – the essence of war, unable to be sugarcoated by any description.


A new recruit, his face pale with terror, was shaking uncontrollably when an experienced soldier leapt forward. Holding up a round shield to block the enemy’s spear and sword, the veteran yelled.

“Hey, snap out of it……!!”

At that moment, BOOM!

An explosion erupted nearby, engulfing the area in an instant. Flames devoured everyone in their vicinity, both the protecting veteran and the retreating recruit.

Following this blast, a spectrum of explosions erupted continuously across the wide plains of the battlefield.


Gigantic flames surged like tidal waves, sweeping across the area. Elsewhere, arrows of ice and lightning never ceased to fall.


The emergence alone shook the balance of the battlefield, a strength that could erode part of the warfront.

“The Mage Corps! The Empire’s Mage Corps has arrived!”

They’re made up of War Mages of 4th Circle and above.

“Shieldbearers, advance! Form a wall with your bodies!”

“Get closer! They’re just mages! Close the distance!”

“Breach and penetrate! Mix into their ranks! They cannot unleash wide-area spells in close combat!”

Endymion’s forces tried to adapt, but the magical firepower unleashed by the Mage Corps was unimaginably strong.


A trained soldier could kill one, a veteran swordsman could take down two, and an Aura practitioner might defeat three, but a skilled mage could incinerate dozens in a single spell – a fact any soldier marching to the battlefield would know.

Yet, the horror of witnessing it firsthand was vastly different from mere knowledge.

War Mages – aptly named the flowers of the battlefield – proved their strength in a brutally tangible way.


Baron Donovan gritted his teeth at the gruesome sight before him.

Although Endymion had its own Mage Corps, key powerhouses had been withdrawn from the battle.

‘We’ll be pushed back if we try to outgun them with firepower. So, what now…?’

After quick deliberation, Baron Donovan raised his voice.

“Archers, forward!”

They aimed to assassinate the mages from afar, using the gap created by the shieldbearers risking their lives. Piercing through the mages’ formidable magical barriers wasn’t easy, but even blinded blades and arrows could claim lives on the battlefield.

Hundreds, possibly thousands of arrows were concentrated—if only some of them…

“Intercept the Empire’s Mage Corps while the shieldbearers buy us time…?!”

Just as he was about to shout the command, CRASH!

Flames rained down from the sky.


“Fire, I’m on fire!”

“Water, get water!”

The flames struck not the Endymion camp this time, but the heart of the Imperial formation.

Starting there, the flow of magical energy surged fiercely, and the deteriorating battle situation swiftly began to turn around.

“What’s this…?!”

Upon witnessing the tide shifting to an equal footing, elation spread across the faces of Baron Donovan and the rest of the command staff.

“Our Mage Corps has returned!”

“His Grace the Archduke─!!”

A thunderous cheer spread.

“─has come!”

The morale of Endymion’s army surged dramatically.




“Let’s have at it, you damn Imperial bastards!”

The wounded and fatigued soldiers reignited with fiery determination in their eyes.


Some spat on their palms and gripped their spears and swords even more firmly, their morale revitalized by Russell’s arrival.

And with good reason.

After singlehandedly breaching Trebain’s stronghold, Russell garnered a reputation among the troops akin to a War God or even a Military Deity.

“Hmph. This is interesting.”

Hubert, having landed on the battlefield, let out a sardonic laugh upon seeing the bolstered vigor.

To think that one man’s arrival could so dramatically revive their spirits.


This moment was fleeting; catching the longsword of a soldier charging at him with the tips of his armor-clad fingers as he muttered to himself.

“If I don’t want to disappoint as an elder brother, I have to put in even more effort.”

His grip melted the caught longsword into molten metal.

Burning Hand.

A mere 1st Circle spell, but when infused with the mana of a 6th Circle Mage, the firepower was enough to liquefy metal.


And then, with a light brush of Hubert’s other hand over the spilt molten metal…


Enemies within a range turned into honeycombs, falling to the ground. The melting iron had solidified into rounds before being fired through them in an instant.

Years after reaching the 6th Circle, this was a unique original magic spell Hubert had developed, one that never existed before.

Silvering Slug.


Dozens of iron rounds orbited rapidly around Hubert.


They repelled incoming spears and swords and struck at approaching enemies simultaneously.

Within the orbit of his weaponized rounds, Hubert calmly began casting another spell, aiming for the untouched enemy front.


As the casting finished…


A scorching beam of light shot straight through the enemy lines.


The intense heat obliterated everything in its path.

As the bright light faded, nothing remained but the scorched and molten earth. The radiant heat alone was enough to reduce the ground to a molten state.


While not yet ascended to the realm of the Übermensch, the Tower Lord-level mage’s prowess was evident.

Then, suddenly…


A spell hurtled through the air and exploded against the orbiting rounds.

Hubert detected the direction of the attacking mage through the flow of magic.


A fiery iron chain emblem was wrapped around the magic projectile. Recognizing the emblem, Hubert collected his mana, muttering to himself.

“Phuel’s Magic Tower, huh?”

The most prominent opposing tower of the Empire, but Hubert remembered it for different reasons.

‘I often encountered their kind on secret missions.’

Each time, they showed hostility and inferiority against him, a member of the Flame Tower.

‘Irritating bunch.’

Judging by the magic they wielded…

‘It’s neck and neck.’

One wrong move could mean severe injury or death.

Preparing for the formidable enemy encountered in the midst of battle, Hubert sighed lightly.

‘Looks like this is the end of my rampage.’

He would not be allowed any leniency by the foe before him.

The moment Hubert’s eyes sparked behind his monocle, magic erupted at the heart of the battlefield.




As Hubert and the newly arrived Mage Corps poured out their magic, Russell was also engaged in battle at the heart of the battlefield.

The difference though…

“This monster!”

“Die, just die!”

…Russell’s rampage was not at the frontlines but at the center of the Imperial camp.

When he shifted his gaze slightly, the stretched out vigor and intense glares of the enemy soldiers caught his eye. Nevertheless, Russell’s face remained impassive.

It couldn’t be helped.

If the enemies were sheep, then Russell was a beast dropped amidst them – no, more like a dragon.

Step, roar!

With each step, flames erupted, devouring the enemy ranks as if obeying Russell’s movements.


“Urk… my armor is melting!”

“Damn it, take it off!”

Panic ensued after just a few steps, transforming the area into hell on earth.

Several brave knights rushed at Russell, trying to stop him.



Their power was evident, sparks of mana springing from their weapons.

Yet, thump-thump.


“How… when did it…?”

Flames sprang from the ground, spearing through their bodies before they could even react.

With a mere step, Russell turned dozens of soldiers into burned corpses and easily dispatched Aura practitioners without lifting a finger.

The Empire’s forces paled, stepping back at the sight of such terrifying power.

“What kind of man is he…?”

Russell, to their eyes, resembled nothing less than a disaster wearing human skin.

No matter.

Russell continued to move forward, sending out torrents of flame that chased down his retreating foes.


Each wave of red flames incinerated scores to hundreds of lives. Russell’s gaze remained unshaken, a reflection not of bloodthirst, but of a mind matured alongside his powers, understanding the essence of war better than most.

‘Ending the battle as quickly as possible is the way to minimize death.’

Ironically, he had to kill to save lives on the battlefield.

At that moment…


A red lightning bolt, trailing along the sky, violently struck Russell’s position.

Surging from the bolt, heat waves boiled the atmosphere as the earth cratered from the impact.

A branch of metamorphic magic, the Red Lightning, often used by Russell himself.

“Pleasure to meet you, Russell Raymond, the Archduke.”

A beard cascading down to the sternum, a robe melding whites and greys, and emblazoned on his shoulder, a burning iron chain.

‘If he belongs to the Phuel Magic Tower and wields such presence and aura…’

Russell, having recognized the man from the Book of Names, addressed him.

“Count Heizen.”

“Hah, I hardly expected Lord Archduke of Endymion to recognize me. But…”

His tone hinted no surprise or pleasure.

“Aren’t you being too reckless?”


“Indeed, I am confident in my skills, but who would have thought you’d jump alone into the heart of the enemy camp?”

Wasn’t he just a gifted thunderhead, someone who didn’t know the height of the heavens?

Count Heizen made no effort to hide his derisive expression.

“What will you do if you encounter an enemy you cannot handle?”

His words implied this could very well be Russell’s grave, which Russell answered with a slight smile.


Taken aback by the unexpected reaction, as confusion crept onto Count Heizen’s face, Russell calmly replied.

“There’s no need for concern over my actions.”


“This is exactly the situation I orchestrated from the start.”

“What does that mean?”

“Since you seem confused, I’ll clarify.”

In Russell’s gleaming eyes,

“I jumped into the Imperial camp to draw you out.”

As he spoke, Russell’s aura expanded resplendently.

The Dragon Devouring Mage.


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