CHAPTER 605: 605

The rain in the sky had stopped, and the wet ground had been baked dry.

According to common sense, after a round of attack ends, one should check the effect.

But considering what Rhodes had said before, even the Dragon couldn’t do anything to the Second Generation, so everyone took advantage of his difficulty in resisting and added another round of attack.

Rain of Light, Crush Magic, Lightning Dragon Halberd, Light Particle Sword, Hellfire, various types of Magic, enhanced by the power boost from the buff fell upon Precht in turns.

The six people formed a semicircle, their eyes fixed on the spot where the attack had just occurred.

As the Magic light dissipated and the smoke and dust gradually cleared, a large pit on the ground was revealed.

A hand reached out from the pit, grasping the ground.

Immediately after, Precht jumped out of the pit.

At this moment, his clothes were tattered, his beard scorched black, and his face bore some scars.

"You’ve done well, Makarov," Precht’s voice was gloomy and sounded very angry.

"To actually cultivate so many powerful brats."

As he spoke, the injuries on his body rapidly healed.

Erza said in surprise, "The attack really didn’t work."

Gildarts denied, "No, it was useful, but he defended against most of the attack and then recovered his injuries through some kind of Magic."

Mira said, "Ordinary Magic can’t do something like this, right?"

Even Wendy, a Magician specializing in healing Magic, couldn’t heal her own injuries, so Precht’s Magic was definitely not ordinary.

"As expected of the Second Generation."

Rhode’s eyes were almost shining.

He also wanted to learn such an amazing Magic.

As long as he learned this, wouldn’t his life-saving ability increase significantly?

Makarov’s expression changed, uncertain and surprised, "This feeling, could it be, that?"

"Oh? You figured it out? That’s right."

Precht wasn’t surprised, after all, the one responsible for guarding the Guild’s biggest secret was Makarov.

"How could there be a second one of that kind of thing?!"

Makarov drew star-chart-like broken lines in the air with his fingers, each turning point transforming into a light bullet that shot towards Precht.

The others were confused by what they heard.

"What is ’that’?

Precht calmly created a Magic shield to block Makarov’s attack.

"It was something I created in the first place, so why can’t there be a second one?

Makarov, although you’ve obtained the title of Saint Ten or whatever, your understanding of the path of Magic is still too shallow."

"No, I should say that most people in the world have too shallow an understanding of the path of Magic, only I am the one closest to the abyss of Magic!"

As he said these words, Precht’s expression was smug and arrogant, this was what he was most proud of.

In terms of research into Magic, Makarov admitted he indeed had no qualifications to argue with the Second Generation.

But what he cared about more was how that learned and kind elder had become like this now.

"You, what exactly did you experience after leaving the Guild?"

"I just understood the essence of Magic more deeply, that’s all!"

Precht didn’t want to talk anymore.

Terrifying dark energy gathered in his hands and whipped towards the crowd like long whips.

Gildarts raised his hand to crush it, Laxus used lightning to counter, Erza swung her Light Particle Sword to resist, Mira pulled the cloak behind her to the front to block, and Rhode flapped his wings to raise a strong wind.

Everyone had their own methods.

Makarov quickly drew a golden defensive Magic circle.

At the same time, he said to the others, "Listen carefully, the opponent has a kind of Magic that can provide him with almost infinite Magic Power!"

"Infinite Magic Power? How could there be such a—"

Erza instinctively wanted to argue, but then she glanced at the blue light swirling around her and at Rhodes.

Maybe... it wasn’t impossible?

The others came to the same realization.

Makarov continued, "The Second Master’s infinite reserves, combined with a certain Magic he mastered, allow him to recover instantly, no matter how severe the injury."

"My guess," Makarov said firmly, "is that his weakness lies in—"

"You talk too much, Makarov!"

Precht clapped his hands together, and a torrent of dark energy erupted like a waterfall, rushing straight at the Master.

Makarov mirrored the motion, unleashing a golden pillar of light that met the darkness head-on. Light and shadow clashed violently, the golden beam struggling against the tide.

Ordinary dark Magic would have been repelled by his Light, but this was different, Makarov was being forced back. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he shouted, "His Magic Power is sustained by a ’core’, we have to find it and destroy it!"

The golden beam shrank under the pressure, darkness spreading towards him.

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone.

"Lightning Dragon’s Halberd!"

With a roar, Laxus unleashed a surge of lightning that wrapped Precht’s body in golden light.

"Gh—!" Precht flinched.

Though he still wasn’t afraid of them, being pressured from every side was... irritating.

And it didn’t stop there.

Gildarts charged in and slammed a fist straight into Precht’s jaw. Crush Magic detonated on impact, forcing Precht’s dark Magic to halt and sending him reeling upwards, right into Makarov’s golden beam. The light engulfed him, and with a violent thrust, blasted him diagonally across the battlefield.

Erza and Mira immediately pursued.

"Requip: Fairy Armor!"

Wings of green light shimmered behind Erza as she slashed Precht’s chest with her blade, a gleaming arc splitting across his body.

Mira soared above him, her right hand twisted into a demonic claw as searing flame gathered.

"Sitri Claw!" she shouted, smashing down toward Precht’s skull.

"Move!" Rhode warned. He gripped the pendant at his chest, voice ringing out, "Summon: Vilemaw!"

A massive purple spider appeared, roaring as it drove its steel-tipped claw into Precht’s chest, pinning him against the ground.

BOOM!

The impact triggered a chain of explosions, blasting forward across the land, tearing through the island’s edge, and even raising pillars of seawater beyond the coast.

The giant spider lingered only for a moment before dutifully returning to the Twisted Jungle. Before vanishing, it spat a wad of webbing onto the cracked earth where Precht lay buried.