Chapter Ten: First Battle with a Soul Master (I)

“Divine artifact?”

The moment everyone heard Bill’s words, silence swept over the crowd, only to be shattered by a sudden burst of laughter.

“Hanson, did you hear that? This little brat actually claims he knows about divine artifacts!”

“Haha, that’s hilarious! Divine artifacts, indeed!”

“Divine artifact? Hahaha! Kid, do you even know what a divine artifact is? Do you realize whether such things exist in this world?”

Even Wei Lin couldn’t help but laugh when she heard Bill, though thankfully her laughter was soft and went unnoticed.

“Everyone on the entire continent knows that the peak of power is the Saint level, and a Saint-ranked artifact is already rare enough, let alone a divine artifact.”

Wei Lin turned her head and noticed that Vil’s expression had grown somewhat solemn. She hurriedly asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you actually believe there’s a divine artifact in this world?”

“Of course!” Vil’s face showed a reverence unlike any seen before as he replied seriously to Wei Lin, “A thousand years ago, the Dwarves produced a Saint-ranked powerhouse named Losyi Zigel. He forged thirteen Saint artifacts in his lifetime, each one a unique treasure! But Losyi Zigel was not content; he believed he could craft something even greater, an artifact of the highest order. At the height of his power, he sacrificed his own flesh and blood, bestowed his soul as the artifact’s essence, and succeeded in creating a divine artifact known as the Losyi Zigel Staff!”

The Losyi Zigel Staff was once his own, a precious item lost during the spatial traversal. In truth, he had possessed only one divine artifact, not three, for there was only one such artifact in existence: the Losyi Zigel Staff.

“The Losyi Zigel Staff! Yes, it’s the Losyi Zigel Staff! I really do know about it!”

Bill’s voice rang out again, and as he uttered the artifact’s name, Vil became convinced that the boy called Bill really knew something about the divine artifact. He turned to Wei Lin and said, “Looks like I need to save that kid… Stay here and don’t move.”

“Because of that staff?” Wei Lin glanced at the five or six burly men ahead, her worry apparent. “Are you sure you can do it?”

“Let’s give it a try.”

Vil gritted his teeth, turned, and walked into the corner.

“Hmm?” After the laughter died down, Bobby was about to grab Bill and deliver a few more slaps when suddenly he noticed a young man walking towards them from the corner. Frowning, he shouted, “Where did this kid come from? Can’t you see we’re busy here? Get lost!”

Not only Bobby, but all five or six burly men wore fierce expressions; their mere presence would make any adult turn away, let alone a child. Yet to Bobby’s surprise, the youth didn’t stop but continued walking straight toward them, his face devoid of fear.

The boy’s behavior caught Hanson’s attention. He scanned the youth from head to toe and asked those beside him, “In the imperial capital, does any noble house have a young master with blue hair?”

“No, I’ve never heard of any distinguished family in the capital with a blue-haired heir!”

“None?” Hanson frowned. The youth before him was no more than sixteen, dressed in splendid attire, handsome, showing not a trace of fear. In fact, there was a faint aura about him that set him apart.

“Who are you?” Hanson, though rough, knew how to weigh matters. He lowered his voice and questioned Vil.

“Sualo,” Vil replied, his lips twitching slightly as he spoke the name. Wei Lin had chosen it for him to disguise his identity; its meaning derived from the sualo tree.

“Sualo?” Hanson repeated Vil’s name, subtly signaling with his hand. The other men instantly understood and began to encircle Vil quietly.

“Run! They’ll catch you!” Bill’s face was pale. He recognized the newcomer as the youth he had previously tried to rob, thinking he was here for revenge. Guilt rising in his heart, he shouted to Vil.

“Run? Maybe you no longer have the chance, kid!” Bobby sneered, his eyes appraising Vil with satisfaction. “This kid should fetch a good price!”

With that, he strode quickly forward, extending a thick arm to grab Vil. But Vil showed no panic, instead calmly reaching out his hand and chanting swiftly.

“Fire element, heed my prayer! Burn away the enemies before me—Fireball!”

Suddenly, the magical elements around them surged violently. As Vil finished his chant, a blazing fireball formed in his palm. Before Bobby could react, the fireball struck him, its scorching flames enveloping every inch of his body. Bobby, writhing in agony, let out a piercing scream.

“A mage? This kid is actually a mage!”

Everyone stared in shock, momentarily forgetting Bobby who was still rolling on the ground, consumed by flames.

“Damn it!” Hanson glared at Vil, a trace of malice flashing in his eyes. On the Magic Continent, though battle energy had been completely extinguished, a few traces of magic remained. Mages were exceedingly rare, numbering barely one hundred across the continent, most of whom were of low rank; high-level mages numbered only five. Thus, mages were like exquisite yet fragile porcelain.

To prevent mages from vanishing completely, the Empire preserved the Mage Guild and established dozens of laws favoring mages, granting them special protection.

To offend a mage meant inviting trouble beyond imagination! In this era, people feared not the mage himself, but the Empire that stood behind him. The notion might seem laughable, but it was undeniably true.

Hanson’s face twitched noticeably. He knew all too well what the consequences would be if the Empire learned that the Babel Merchant Association had offended a mage. Determined to eliminate future complications, Hanson bit his lip and hissed, “Kill him!”

The burly men under Hanson’s command were no strangers to murder. Hearing the order, they immediately drew sharp daggers and knives from their belts. Yet Bobby’s fate had clearly intimidated them; caution marked their faces as they approached Vil warily.