Dragon Devouring Mage Chapter 261


Dragon devouring mage



Three grand army spells embroidered the heavens and earth from their respective directions.


As Daria summoned the Titan, swinging its arm, the trajectory burned the air that laid in its path.


Seven hundred seventy-seven.

The magic of the Giant King of Firewood, the top-notch upgrade that focused the maximum number of summonable dwarves into a single force!

With a single swing, hundreds of enemies were incinerated, while dozens more were vaporized, sparing not a single piece of flesh.

Yet, Daria’s magic didn’t hit the enemies.

Before the massive, flame-constructed arm could sweep down the imperial troops, the earth that shot up blocked its path.


The wall of earth that collided with the arm of flames crumbled, and dust poured down.

Daria’s eyebrows twitched, recognizing the magic all too well.

“This is…”

A voice devoid of any playfulness. It couldn’t be helped.

If she was right about the owner of this mana, they should no longer be of this world.


The earth trembled lightly from the fallen rocky debris.

Amidst it all, cutting through the risen dust storm, someone slowly emerged.

For death is the completion and the full stop of life, worship death…


The dark brown robe he wore fluttered grandly in the wind.

“It is the sage, after all.”

The dark brown robe, seemingly unchanged from his lifetime and now ragged like a tattered cloth, revealed the decaying flesh within.

The hollow eyes didn’t shed the brilliance of his days claiming to be the sage of the earth.

Instead, a terrible, crimson glare poured out.

Meeting that gaze, Daria muttered with a bitter expression.

“Roderick Armstrong.”

Indeed, the figure that appeared was Roderick Armstrong, the master of the Dark Tower, transformed into a Lich.

If Hemingway Melville, the Polearm Tower Master of our country, could stand back-to-back as a comrade and fellow competitor with the same goal,

Then Roderick Armstrong, belonging to the enemy nation, was a formidable rival that had to be eventually confronted.

When he heard the news that this rival was executed for rebelling against the empire’s emperor, who embraced the Black Tower, a sense of emptiness lingered in his heart.


“I didn’t expect to face the sage again like this…”

In their youth, throughout wars decades ago, they clashed numerous times without reaching a conclusive end, both retreating, vowing to settle the score someday.

“But what can I do? Now that we’ve met, I must settle this.”

Determination filled Daria’s eyes with ruthlessness.

Even if it’s said to be affection transformed from hate, the being before her was an undead, a high-ranking immortal Lich.

“Don’t complain in the afterlife about why I fought you, who detests the undead, with fire magic.”


As her mana surged to the sky, the weather instantly changed.


Dark clouds gathered, shrouding the area around them.

“It was always a fight I was meant to win.”

From the newly formed clouds fell not snowflakes but white-hot embers.

Daria Snow White.


“Final Technique (결戰技): White Snow (白雪).”

Some might wonder.

It is fire magic, so why the snow? But that question only came from those who saw the mere name and appearance of “White Snow,” not understanding its essence.


“It’s not snow, is it…?”

“Why is the temperature…”

Despite the white snow falling, the temperature around them soared hotly.

And the moment it touched the armor of a knight from the imperial side…



The armor melted wherever the snow touched it.

No, beyond that, the finely ground snow burrowed into the flesh and hit the ground.

High heat and pressure; each falling flake was a white flame burning fiercely at high temperatures.

A magical recreation of the characteristics of white phosphorus!

And the marvel didn’t stop there.

Daria’s White Snow possessed both the nature of fire and snow simultaneously.

It even harbored the magical properties of snowy nature…


Whether sensing the oddity or not,

The ghostly flames flickering in the empty eye sockets of the Lich, Roderick Armstrong, suddenly surged.

Unlike other knights or magicians, Armstrong possessed mighty mana, so the showering snowflakes didn’t melt his body.

Only the movement of his mana and his senses seemed to slow as if frozen.

The freezing of mana and senses, causing dullness.

That was the power of Daria’s “Final Technique,” White Snow.

“Never seen this magic before?”

Daria chuckled between the whirling snowflakes.

“It couldn’t be helped. After the last war, I created this magic specifically to face the sage.”

With a laugh that sounded somewhat sad,

Daria declared,

“Let’s have a proper fight on your last journey, old sage.”

* * *

Unlike Daria’s magic, which was intercepted midway, the grand army spells of the other two 8th Circle mages struck the imperial army’s flank directly.

Falling Sun.

Literally, a sun falling from the sky.

A scorching orb incinerated everything, causing flames to sweep the imperial troops from all directions.


The inferno consumed the imperial soldiers, vaporizing them before they could scream.

Even more, distant undead were instantly charred and collapsed.

Having mastered Hell Fire, Russell’s flames were now far hotter than before.

Before the forge-forged iron armor, even those fortunate enough to survive only suffered increased agony.

A meaningless defense.

“Ahh! My armor is melting!”

“Take this off! I can’t let go of my spear. Please take it off!”

Actually, it might not even be correct to say they were lucky.

If they had evaporated without realizing their own death, they wouldn’t have felt such agony.

“Charge! Aid the Grand Duke!”

“Trample the imperial scum!”

After Russell’s incendiary strike landed, those responsible for the left flank followed suit, swirling in like a tide.

Thud thud thud!

The long lances of the cavalry plowed through the scorched land to spear into the enemy lines.


The trained warhorses trampled the undead beneath their hooves.

Crush, crush!

Horrific sounds accompanied the undead’s crushed skulls, then came another uproar.

The zombies and ghouls, those with flesh and skin, screamed and clumped together.

The parts of their flesh melting into a sickening sludge formed a swamp-like mass, from which something raised its head.

A monstrous figure stitched together from the hide and flesh of living creatures, standing over five meters tall.

“It’s an abomination───!”

One of the magicians recognized the creature and cried out in horror.

Though less finished than an Archlich or a Doom Knight, an abomination still ranked high among the undead.

The number that rose!

“Seven… seven of them!”

A lance of flame pierced straight through one of the abominations, exploding upon impact.

It was Russell’s originality magic, Gae Bolg.

The inner fire devoured the hulking monster’s bulk.


The mage counting muttered sheepishly and then the war mages from Endymion stepped forward.

“Fire Arrow!”

“Flare Spear!”

Mages lacking firepower grouped up to attack the beast, while those with enough force took on one each.

Vermillion was one such example.

Boom, boom!

“Haha, the bigger they are, the more there is to hit!”

Engulfed in flames, Vermillion charged, relentlessly pounding the abomination with fiery fists. It was hard to tell if he was a mage or a brawler as he pelted punches, all while the beast howled from surrounding flames.

Naturally, the imperial troops weren’t just passive targets.

The enemy also had their share of war mages.

“Now’s our chance! Let the magic fly!”

“Aim for the mages first!”

With the abomination ensnaring Endymion’s mages, the imperial spellcasters unleashed their full might, including a considerable number of new cultists from the Black Tower.

“Those bastards…!”

As the cultists appeared, Vermillion, who had been hammering away at the abomination, tensed his muscles and roared furiously.

The Berserking Tiger.

Snarling with an expression befitting his moniker, just then, bang!

A loud boom flew Vermillion’s massive frame meters away.


… Grunt, … Gag!

Several undead crushed under him were a mere side effect.


Many thoughts crossed Vermillion’s mind in that fleeting moment.

An attack that a 6th Circle Master or a 7th Circle hopeful could hardly react to.

Had he not instinctively wrapped himself in a shield, the outcome could’ve been grave…


Once more, a sharp sound tore the air as a crescent slash headed straight for him.

Aura Blade, colored a dull monochrome as if it held all despair, bore down upon Vermillion at a terrifying speed.

As it nearly reached him, flames erupting from the ground intervened.


“Are you alright?”

A voice followed immediately.

“Priest… I owe you one,” Vermillion acknowledged.

“For now, I’ll handle him. Please, sir─.”

“Understood. I’ll look elsewhere.”

Despite his higher skill, it was a scenario where a superior had to be saved by a subordinate—an incident that could have dented his pride. Vermillion, however, simply nodded in agreement.

From the start, such trivialities didn’t concern him, and having survived the attack, he perceived the strength of his assailant.

“Thank you.”

Leaving those words behind, Vermillion departed, and soon after, Russell eyed the monster before him with gleaming eyes.

Clink, clank…

A rusty longsword dragged across the ground, held by an undead with dark bones.

Doom Knight—this greater-than-death knight, comparable to an Archlich, stood before him, exuding an intimidating presence.

A mage who swallowed dragons.


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