Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

Unlike Old Gayle, Alan—still standing firmly in place—didn’t try to track the silver-haired youth’s movements with his eyes. Instead, he slowly closed them, tuning in to the flow of mana around him.

A few moments passed. As a leaf gently floated to the ground, Alan suddenly raised his hand and gripped the air to his left.

In that instant, the silver-haired youth’s figure appeared, his fist tightly caught in Alan’s hand. A look of astonishment flickered across his face.

Everyone watching was stunned.

From their perspective, it had looked as if the youth had charged directly into Alan’s waiting grip—as if he’d voluntarily offered up his arm for capture.

“You’re too slow,” Alan said quietly, twisting his wrist with force.

Crack, crack, crack!

A chorus of sickening bone-cracking noises echoed across the scene.

The youth’s expression contorted in agony. He tried desperately to yank his arm back, but Alan’s hand clamped down like an iron vice. No matter how much strength he used, he couldn’t break free.

“Bastard… Let me go! Let go of me!” the youth snarled, squirming violently.

Alan raised an eyebrow, giving the youth the same condescending look the young man had earlier cast at him. His voice was flat:

“Sure.”

The very next instant, the youth felt a searing pain in his abdomen. It was as if someone had twisted all his internal organs into a tangled mess.

Alan had lifted his knee and driven it hard into the youth’s stomach. A glob of blood-tinged spit shot out from the youth’s mouth as his body curled up.

Then, under the powerful backlash of the blow, the silver-haired youth was launched skyward—flying in a perfect arc until he landed hard at the feet of the elderly man in the dark blue mage’s robe.

But gone was the proud, arrogant prodigy. What lay at the elder’s feet now more resembled a mangy, half-dead stray dog.

“Bastard… I’m going to kill you! I’ll kill you!” the youth screamed, eyes bloodshot. Though badly injured and nearly incapacitated, he still glared viciously at Alan below with a gaze full of venom and humiliation.

He struggled to rise, determined to repay Alan for the disgrace he’d suffered.

But the elder suddenly placed a firm hand on his shoulder and said coldly,

“No. You’re not going back in. You can’t beat him.”

“What?!”

The youth’s voice jumped several octaves, trembling with rage.

“I can’t beat him? How could I not beat him?! He’s a wild, self-taught magus from some second-rate backwater, and I’m a top-tier student handpicked and nurtured by the NK Kingdom! Mentor, are you even hearing yourself right now?!”

He couldn’t accept it.

Back home, he was admired, envied, revered. Yet here he was—battered, humiliated, thrown to the dirt by some rogue talent from a lesser kingdom. How could he swallow that?

The elder sighed and replied,

“I said you can’t beat him, and I meant it. Wisdom lies in knowing your limits. The very reason I brought you here was to show you exactly that—you’ve lacked clarity about your own strength.”

“I wanted you to see with your own eyes just how many true prodigies exist in this world. And where you truly stand among them.”

After the scolding, a flicker of realization crossed the youth’s face. His eyes became clear again, as if he had just experienced an epiphany.

He slowly struggled to his feet and silently took his place behind the elder.

But even so, the occasional glances he shot at Alan were still filled with unwillingness—he had not truly accepted his defeat.

The elder let out another sigh and turned his attention to Alan.

“Now I understand why Lioncrest Academy would unite with bounty hunters from across the land, and even reach out to our NK Kingdom, all for the sake of eliminating you.”

“Alan, do you understand the old adage, ‘The tallest trees attract the fiercest winds’? People like you—if friends, are valuable allies; if enemies, they become threats that must be removed.”

Then he slowly raised a clenched fist toward the sky.

Instantly, a massive magic array constructed from pure black lines began forming high above, darkening the skies like an incoming storm. The air grew thick, suffocating.

Beneath this immense magic array, Alan felt an overwhelming mana overpressure descending from all directions, pressing in on him like an invisible vice.

The crushing sensation invaded his lungs and mind, leaving him dizzy and gasping for breath.

Alan clenched his jaw tight, fists balled so hard his knuckles turned white.

But he didn’t plan to yield.

This old man in the dark blue robe was powerful—perhaps even more powerful than Headmaster Gayle.

But just because someone was strong… did that mean he had to surrender?

Of course not.

The stronger the enemy, the greater Alan’s will to fight. Bullying the weak was the mark of a coward. And Alan wasn’t a coward.

“Compress it… keep compressing!”

He roared the words with all his might.

To resist the oppressive force of the elder’s black array, Alan had only one option:

Absorb mana.

Furiously draw in all nearby mana and elemental energy. Then fuse it with his own mana, continuously increasing its density to an insane degree.

His body became a high-pressure vessel, a mana cauldron about to burst. The stronger the elder’s pressure became, the more ferociously Alan refined and compressed the power within himself.

But this tactic carried immense risk.

Should he lose control—or allow the delicate balance between the mana and elemental energy to rupture—he would be consumed by the overload and die on the spot, his body exploding from within.

“Idiot kid! Don’t do anything reckless!”

Suddenly, Alan heard Old Gayle’s stern voice snapping in his ear.

In that moment, the compressed mana and elemental energy inside him suddenly began to stabilize.

The crushing burden on his body eased significantly, and his breathing steadied.

Alan turned his head and saw Old Gayle standing right behind him.

At some point, the aged headmaster had appeared silently at his side. Now, both of his weathered palms pressed firmly against Alan’s back, guiding and soothing the rampaging flow of power within him.

“Headmaster… I…”

Alan’s voice trembled.

But before he could say more, Gayle abruptly shoved him away.

And in the next instant—

BOOM!!!

From the heart of the black array in the sky, a thick beam of black light exploded forth—thick as a barrel—and shot down at blinding speed.

The beam was pure annihilation. Even the air and space around it began to ripple and fracture under its devastating force.

Alan could only watch, frozen, as the beam struck Old Gayle head-on.

There was no scream.

Not even time for one.

The headmaster was swallowed by the black light in an instant.

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