Chapter 291 – Iron-Toothed Black Crow

“This is bad, this is really bad!”

Watching the Iron-Toothed Raven transform into a dark arrow shooting toward him, Peter muttered anxiously under his breath while his mind raced.

Heaven knew he had only advanced to Formal-Level just over a year ago. This time, he had recklessly accepted an apprentice mission and nearly been discovered by a Red Robes Formal-Level Mage. Don’t think Peter escaped through intimidation or domineering presence – it was purely because he, being a coward, promptly admitted defeat and took a long detour, luckily avoiding the enemy.

Now, standing at the entrance of the Thought of Truth Branch, he had nowhere to retreat! Fleeing here would make him a deserter, and the enforcement squad would be the first to come after him.

So even though Peter had never experienced any Formal-Level combat until now, he had to prepare to face the enemy already upon him.

Facing the rapidly approaching Iron-Toothed Raven, Peter chose to counter with a Formal-Level spell “Ice Arrow” while quickly retreating backward and to the right. This was a method he’d read in a book about mage combat tactics for dealing with fast-charging enemies – first disrupt the enemy’s attack, then strive to evade!

However, the effectiveness of Peter’s “tactical response” left much to be desired.

As a newly advanced Formal-Level Mage, Peter only knew three Formal-Level spells, and they were the most conventional attack, defense, and utility spells: the commonplace “Ice Arrow” (as common as “Fireball”), the nearly universal “Greater Mage Armor”, and a barely useful “Frost Nova”.

In fact, Peter’s clumsy “Ice Arrow” completely missed its target.

He didn’t realize that the “countering attacks” described in that spellbook referred to dealing with linear attacks that couldn’t adjust direction, but the enemy Peter faced was an Iron-Toothed Raven that could constantly fine-tune its flight path!

Peter had overestimated his spell accuracy in panic and underestimated the Iron-Toothed Raven’s instincts as a ferocious magical beast. In combat, any mistake comes with heavy consequences, and Peter was no exception.

The black raven in midair suddenly twisted slightly, and the shimmering azure Ice Arrow brushed past the Iron-Toothed Raven’s belly. Peter’s spell only left a layer of harmless frost on the raven’s belly feathers, posing no obstruction to its attack.

The Iron-Toothed Raven that had dodged the attack didn’t hesitate at all. Its glossy black wings pressed tightly against its body, transforming its entire form into a sharp spindle shape like a fish diving into water, with the tip of the “spindle” – the raven’s black beak – aimed directly at Peter’s heart.

“Ah!”

With this sudden lightning strike, a spray of blood burst forth in the heavy rain. Large amounts of blood splattered across the swamp’s black-purple ground as piercing screams echoed endlessly beneath the gloomy clouds.Peter, clutching his half-severed right arm, spun wildly backward before crashing into the swamp. His body plowed a deep trench through the muck until he smashed through three or four obstructing rocks, finally coming to a stop. Now lying in the mud, half of Peter’s body was already stained crimson with blood.

But Peter wasn’t dead—he had only lost an arm.

At the final moment, the “Greater Mage Armor” he had cast upon himself saved his life. The Iron-Toothed Raven’s beak deflected after piercing through the magical defense, causing the terrifying projectile to graze past Peter’s heart, only shattering his left lung and half of his shoulder.

Yet Peter lay motionless in the rubble pile.

Make no mistake—such injuries were far from fatal for a Formal-Level Mage. But Peter clearly had no intention of getting up. He had fainted, or… he was pretending to faint.

Peter didn’t believe for a second that he could defeat such a fearsome magical beast, so he simply collapsed into the rubble to feign unconsciousness. This way, he could avoid accusations of “desertion in the face of the enemy.” As for his reputation… Peter would rather be called a coward back at the Thought of Truth than lose his life here!

By hiding like this, Peter secured his safety. He suppressed his life force to an extremely low level, and the Iron-Toothed Raven—with its poor perception—didn’t give this unimpressive “prey” another glance. The bloodthirsty magical beast instead fixed its gaze upon the still-dazed apprentices.

At this moment, none of the apprentices—including Anya—had processed what had just happened. The clash between Formal-Level powerhouses was simply too fast for ordinary apprentices like them. Take Anya, for example: even though she had kept her eyes wide open throughout the rainstorm, she only saw a flash of white light before the arrogant mentor who had been bossing them around went flying, his fate unknown.

Everything happened so quickly that the apprentices hadn’t even scattered. They all stared blankly at the sky, searching for the raven’s silhouette against the gloomy clouds.

But soon, nobody needed to search anymore.

Those four crimson, blood-red eyes were already locked firmly on all the apprentices. The undisguised, brutal killing intent made many tremble uncontrollably, some even wetting themselves.

This was a genuine Formal-Level magical beast. Though it lacked intelligence, its nearly tangible killing intent suffocated everyone present. Including Anya, the apprentices felt as if the air had solidified. Under the Iron-Toothed Raven’s gaze, they couldn’t move a muscle even if they wanted to flee.

Killing intent, hatred, brutality.

Such was the nature of the Iron-Toothed Raven. It had forgotten it was in the midst of fleeing. Now, the crazed beast glared at the huddled apprentices before letting out raucous caws and soaring into the air.

Anya watched as the “raven” spread its wings, and an intensely ominous feeling surged within her. She instinctively recognized this sensation—it was the feeling of death.

Anya’s feeling wasn’t wrong!High in the air, the Iron-Toothed Raven suddenly flapped its wings at an incredibly rapid frequency. A massive amount of metallic-colored filaments descended with sharp, hissing sounds, so numerous that they formed a cloud-like mass in the sky. From a distance, it resembled a thick, metallic mist plummeting swiftly toward the apprentices.

“It’s over… Am I really going to die here? Damn it! I can’t accept this!”

Anya clenched her lower lip, suppressing a scream of terror as she shut her eyes. She had already imagined the gruesome fate awaiting her and all the other apprentices—pierced into mincemeat by thousands of Steel Threads hurtling at the speed of sound.

Yet, fortunately, destruction did not arrive as expected.

At some point, the sounds of the Torrential Rain and howling winds had vanished.

Slowly, Anya opened her eyes in astonishment, having braced herself for death. And then, she beheld a magnificent sight she would never forget for the rest of her life!

(End of Chapter)