The Legendary Mage (Alavin) novel Chapter 367

The wilderness was silent, as still as death itself.

All eyes were focused on Tobin's shattered head, the shocking scene halting many a heartbeat in an instant. Even Lord Viperbane stood rooted to the spot on the path, staring fixedly at the ghastly sight a kilometer away.

Was Tobin dead?!

Had Jarad slain the leader of Amber Valley with a single punch?!

The assassins lurking in the shadows of Amber Valley blanched as the invincible image of their leader shattered. They stood frozen, mouths agape in disbelief.

The Floral Enchantress Commander furrowed her brows. The old rogue was getting crueler by the day, not even bothering to investigate or ask questions before killing Tobin. Poor Tobin, the once-renowned Assassin King of the Northlands, met such an end without a chance to resist.

The Cobalt Strike Commander's expression was peculiar. While they had released a breath of malice, Jarad's fierce surprise attack was still startling.

"Fools overreach themselves," Jarad's slit pupils were cold and cruel, flickering with a sinister, otherworldly light. He raised his hand, and a heavy mist of blood swirled from Tobin's corpse, drawing out his life force to form a blood-red Gore Nectar in the blink of an eye. The size of a thumb, it pulsed with astonishing vitality. Though Tobin was aged, the flesh of an Archmage was still potent nourishment. This shall be a gift for his cherished granddaughter.

"Jarad! You dare to craft Gore Nectar in public!" The Floral Enchantress Commander rebuked him. Such brutal dark magic was strictly forbidden in the Northlands, but few interfered out of fear of Bloodlore's might, so long as they didn't overstep too grossly. Yet today, Jarad had refined the valley chieftain into Gore Nectar before everyone's eyes, an act too cruel for the Floral Enchantress Commander to stomach.

"He meddled in the affairs of the Eight Orders and Five Lords. I've been merciful in not grinding him to feed the hounds." Jarad swept a cold gaze across the distant wilderness. The Amber Valley assassins prostrated themselves, trembling and silent. They were usually proud, but at that moment, they were truly afraid.

The onlookers from afar were equally shaken.

"Truly, he's the most fearsome man of the Northlands; the show hasn't even started, and he's already slain the chieftain of Amber Valley."

"Best to give Bloodlore a wide berth from now on, a bunch of madmen."

"Amber Valley won't let this slide. They might not dare seek vengeance against Jarad, but they'll surely try to assassinate other Bloodlore Protégés."

"Has Bloodlore ever feared anyone?"