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Demon Island

Demon Island is a fantasy novel that tells the tale of an ordinary urban youth who, after inadvertently consuming a wish fruit from a strange realm, finds himself in the mysterious land of Demon Island. The story unfolds in a vividly fantastical world divided into four major regions: the Dragon Clan occupies the northern territory, the Demon Clan rules the west, the Ghost Clan governs the south, and the Human Clan resides in the Central Plains. In this realm, the forms of life are diverse and extraordinary, ranging from ethereal beings that transcend the cycles of life and death to demons that achieve immortality through various paths. The central plot of the novel revolves around the protagonist's adventures on Demon Island, brimming with elements of magic and exploration.

DaoistSmIuyR · ファンタジー
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154 Chs

The Necromancer

"Greetings! 

In a moment of peril, the necromancer displayed formidable prowess, transforming his hands into an impenetrable barrier that steadfastly shielded him from the eight holy light projectiles I had sent his way. 

This terrifying display of strength sent my heart racing, yet at that moment, bidding farewell was not an option he would entertain. Resolutely, I straightened my back and leapt from the rooftop of Pan Lier's opulent villa. If it had been a high-rise apartment, there would have been no rooftop from which to jump. 

"Who are you?" 

"Spare me the clichéd villain monologue; I am the demon here to engage you in a soul acquisition deal. 

In this scenario, it's either you who kills me, or I who kills you. How could I possibly waste time on idle chatter? 

With Jack's silver spear in my left hand and the long blade, Ancient Moon, in my right, I unleashed my mental energy to its fullest. Without relying on hand gestures, I conjured a fireball spell. Preserving my strength was paramount; when I descend to hell to lament my fate, I mustn't appear despondent. 

You may wonder why I did not use the more common holy light projectiles. The reason is that the silver spear in my hand was emitting a meter-long beam of silver light, with all my Platinum Glory power channeled into it. 

If one strike doesn't vanquish you, I shall flee with all my might, using my magical wings to create distance, engaging in guerrilla warfare with my psionic firearms… 

To think of victory before considering defeat; this tactical approach only formed after my departure from Demon Island. 

During my time on the island, the environment and the influence of rage-inducing substances had shaped a more aggressive combat style. Now, however, I lacked the reckless fervor, resolved only to never admit defeat and to return another day. 

As for my weapon skills, I was familiar with only the basic techniques of Flying Sand and Basic Swordplay. 

Thus, I employed Flying Sand with the long blade, while the silver spear executed a straightforward thrust, devoid of any intricate maneuvers. The necromancer seemed taken aback by my sudden assault, and despite my heart racing and my hands trembling, I executed a swift spin, shedding my outer garment, and deftly enveloping the heavy blade waves conjured by Ancient Moon. 

Simultaneously, a silver serpent surged from my sleeve, intertwining with my silver spear in an intricate manner. 

With a resounding boom, Ancient Moon burst forth, but due to the clash with the necromancer's weapon, he staggered back three steps, causing my attack to veer off course and miss its target. Ironically, the only successful strike came from my fireball spell, intended merely as a distraction, which accurately landed in the necromancer's groin, evoking a sense of anticipation akin to watching "It's Not My Fault for the Lamb Hot Pot." 

Regrettably, the necromancer swiftly extinguished the fireball with a slap of his left hand, which appeared to have barely singed his undergarments, leaving the more vital areas untouched. 

Having gained such an advantage through a surprise attack and a multi-pronged approach, I found myself in awe of the necromancer's skill. Just as I contemplated my next strategy, he unexpectedly distanced himself, gliding backward as if walking on water, swiftly retreating over ten steps. 

After our earlier clash, the aura on my silver spear had diminished by half, and my arm trembled from the impact. Once he had created space, I could finally see that he wielded a soft sword, its silver glint shimmering in the moonlight, exuding a sharpness that was quite formidable. 

My previous strike, infused with the entirety of my Platinum Glory, could have shattered a steel beam of considerable girth, yet his soft sword remained unscathed, clearly a remarkable weapon in its own right. 

As he distanced himself, he swiftly transferred the soft sword to his left hand, giving it a gentle shake to straighten it, demonstrating his exceptional swordsmanship. 

In terms of stance, I could hardly compare to him. Since acquiring the compendium of Max's magical incantations, my primary combat prowess had shifted from physical confrontations to magical prowess. However, when evaluating my combat capabilities, I still preferred to measure them by my own martial skills. 

My excessive reliance on my fists often led me to prioritize swift strikes and blade techniques in my tactical considerations. 

As the saying goes, sin is not wrong; as long as one sheds the superficial and returns to their essence, the soul can remain pure. 

Countless holy light projectiles coalesced around me, a technique I had mastered early on. Through diligent training and the study of Max's magic, I had reached a point where I could unleash them without any physical gestures, merely by the power of thought. 

If not for the flight speed of the holy light projectiles, which often failed to meet my expectations, I would have explored further possibilities with this technique. The efficacy of holy light projectiles relies on purification, and their impact on ordinary people is not as pronounced as against monsters. Recently, I had consciously begun substituting fireball spells for holy light projectiles, yet this transition was incomplete; in a rush, I couldn't replicate the same finesse with fireball spells. "As the mountains remain unchanged and the waters flow eternally, since you insist on killing me, could you perhaps provide a reason?" 

The necromancer, unaware that I had amassed so many holy light projectiles to create distance, mistakenly assumed I was preparing to strike again and uttered words that left me utterly astonished. 

"I wish to grant you clarity in death, but alas, I am equally perplexed!" 

As I expressed my dissatisfaction with fate, the necromancer suddenly waved his hand, releasing a buzzing object, before turning to flee. Fearing he might be wielding an explosive device, I hurriedly took to the skies, conjuring a shield of holy light projectiles. By the time I realized I had caught a swarm of giant bees, still coalescing in the air, the necromancer had vanished from my sight, employing some unknown means of escape. 

In haste, I purified the swarm, which was larger than an adult's pinky finger and entirely black. I understood that I would no longer find this enemy, and with a quiet leap into the air, I circled around to intimidate before heading towards the school where the axe had been thrown. 

In truth, the necromancer's peculiar abilities had yet to be fully revealed. His exceptional combat skills had already given me a headache, but the fact that I had managed to force him to retreat without even showcasing his exquisite swordsmanship was beyond my expectations. 

Continuing the fight could lead to unforeseen complications, as I had no idea what other strange abilities my opponent possessed. I considered employing my mental energy to search for the necromancer's whereabouts, yet cornering him into a desperate fight might yield disastrous consequences for both of us."