CHAPTER 86: CHAPTER 86

The one-handed pickpocket’s eyes narrowed. His body froze, too stunned to react.

Clayton’s water projectile tore through the air with terrifying speed.

By the time the pickpocket registered what was happening, his limbs refused to move. It was too late to dodge. In that instant, rage, regret, humiliation, and a thirst for vengeance all collided in his mind.

Just as he thought death had come for him, a dome of water suddenly formed around his body—a transparent sphere that enclosed him completely.

With this, Clayton’s vicious attacks were completely blocked by the water dome, leaving everyone inside unharmed.

The one-handed pickpocket’s exhaled in relief. His boss had saved him.

Clayton blinked in surprise, then narrowed his eyes. The sudden shift didn’t bother him—in fact, it piqued his curiosity. His gaze slid toward the older man who stood just a short distance away.

Now that he looked closer, he could feel it—magical pressure radiating off the man in waves.

A Four-Star Apprentice Mage.

Clayton didn’t waste a second.

"Water Magic: Water of Wave!"

Swoosh!

A towering wave surged forward, roaring toward the old man.

In response, the old man’s expression hardened. He raised his hand and chanted the same incantation.

"Water Magic: Water of Wave!"

Two colossal waves collided in midair. The crash echoed like thunder as both spells struggled to overpower the other.

For a moment, it was a perfect stalemate. But slowly, Clayton’s wave began to fade—until both spells collapsed in on themselves and vanished in a violent burst of spray.

The old man’s eyes widened in disbelief.

They were two full tiers apart. His magic should have crushed Clayton’s instantly. Yet this boy had not only held his ground—he had matched him.

This was no ordinary mage.

Now, the old man regarded Clayton with new seriousness.

Meanwhile, the one-handed pickpocket stood off to the side, completely ignored. His pride burned. His rage boiled over. Without thinking, he charged at Clayton, determined to land a blow.

He moved fast—faster than most could track. By the time Clayton had recovered from his spell clash, the pickpocket was already within striking distance.

He grinned. Finally. Revenge.

But Clayton hadn’t noticed—lost in thought.

"Woff! Woff!"

Dingo barked sharply, warning his master.

Startled, Clayton turned—and saw the pickpocket only a few paces away.

The pickpocket’s grin widened. This was it. He was the second-fastest hand in his gang—no one could stop him now.

Thwack!

But instead of flesh and blood, his hand hit resistance.

No splash of blood. No impact.

His smirk vanished.

He looked down—and froze.

Clayton stood completely unharmed.

Surrounding his body were shimmering blue filaments of water, swirling in constant motion. Water Circulation Armor.

A chill ran down the pickpocket’s spine.

This again... This was how I lost my hand the first time...

Panic set in. He tried to pull away.

Too late.

The water threads had already caught him.

Swoosh!

A sickle arced through the air.

Splat!

Blood sprayed in a vicious arc.

His hand was severed—again.

This time, he was truly a armless pickpocket.

He stared in shock, unwilling to believe it. But the pain was real—searing, brutal. His knees buckled. He collapsed, trembling from blood loss and terror.

Clayton didn’t even look at him. His focus was fixed on the old man—eyes sharp and burning.

The old man’s expression twisted in fury. Watching his subordinate get humiliated like that... and seeing Clayton’s cold, almost bored stare—it was unbearable.

How dare a mere Two-Star Apprentice look at him that way?

He snapped.

"Water Magic: Water Cannon!"

A basin-sized sphere of water formed above his palm, then blasted toward Clayton like a cannonball.

Clayton remained calm.

"Water Magic: Water Cannon!"

His spell launched to meet the old man’s.

Boom!

Water exploded in a deafening blast, spraying in all directions.

As the mist cleared—Clayton stood untouched.

The old man blinked.

No damage. None at all.

There was only one explanation: their spells had canceled each other out.

Impossible. It shouldn’t be possible.

Frowning, the old man tried again.

"Water Magic: Water Cannon!"

"Water Magic: Water Cannon!"

Boom!

Another clash. Another explosion. Again, Clayton emerged unscathed.

Now the old man was sure—his spells were being neutralized.

He gritted his teeth.

And snapped.

Swoosh!

Boom!

Crash!

Spell after spell tore through the alley, turning it into a battlefield of surging water and exploding pressure.

But Clayton stood firm. Calm. Focused. Matching every attack.

The old man’s frustration boiled over. He had always been dominant—older, more experienced, more talented. He knewwater magic better than most. But now... this boy was matching him blow for blow.

Why wasn’t I born with that kind of talent?

Jealousy twisted his thoughts. If he couldn’t match it—he would destroy it.

His attacks grew wild. Desperate. Brutal.

Clayton began to falter, struggling to keep up.

Then—he called for reinforcements.

Mini skeletons emerged from the shadows.

The old man scoffed.

"Toys."

That’s all they looked like to him.

But he was about to be proven wrong.

The mini skeletons raised their arms.

Half a dozen water projectiles shot forward like bullets.

Too fast. Too sudden.

Splat!

Splat!

Splat!

The old man was hit—pierced by every shot. His body was riddled with holes.

He stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.

Then he looked at Clayton—still calm, expression unreadable. It was like he had expected this outcome all along.

Humiliation bloomed in the old man’s chest.

"Damn it... I’ll take you to hell with me!"

His aura exploded.

Mana surged violently, forming a swirling, chaotic sphere around him. The air thickened with pressure.

Clayton’s eyes widened.

He’s going to self-destruct!

It was a suicide spell—one that only mages with crystallized mana cores could use properly. Lately, even Three-Star Apprentices had tried it, though the effects were less devastating.

But for someone like Clayton? It would still be fatal.

The old man’s face twisted in triumph as he saw the fear flicker across Clayton’s face.

"Hehehe... I’ll be waiting for you in hell!"

And then—he released the last of his mana.

Boom!