The Master of Uradan

Chapter 112 - Where Am I?

The mana ravaged his inside. Cracks appeared on his mana core as well as his mana stone, making Rohan feel the most excruciating pain that had never affected him. His nerves were breaking under this experience. He felt his mind shutting down as his vision grew darker and darker.

He heard a hissing sound slashing the air apart as it headed toward his neck. The noise was coming from far away, as Rohan was only a spectator at this moment. Then suddenly, he lost everything.

He couldn't see anymore, nor hear anything. He couldn't even sense his own body and he felt floating in the infinite darkness.

"Is this the way I die?" His voice echoed in the dark, seemingly shaking this empty world. Then, his conscience disappeared.

The old man slashed with his sword at a lightning speed. Even the blade was hard to catch, powered by his strength and in no time, it reached the neck of the young warrior. It passed through as if it was water. The sword stood still, held by the Intermediate Warrior. His eyes were fixed on the young boy as he couldn't believe his own eyes.

Something like this should be impossible! He couldn't utter a single sound. His sword had simply missed the target, even though he had used a speed that should be enough to cut Rohan ten times before he could react in any way.

But the old man disregarded his sword missing the throat. He froze where he was, looking at the young warrior disappear inside the red strands composing the barrier. Abruptly, the hard wall keeping away all people from the entire world had softened, attracting the young warrior inside.

It only took a second before his body faded away from his view. The old warrior could only be alarmed. He took a step forward and stabbed with his sword. He didn't dare touch it with his own body. The tip of his sword clashed against the solid wall and sparks flew around. The red strands of mana grinded the sharp tip.

The old man frowned as he took back his weapon. Even with his strength, he couldn't pass through. He couldn't see what was inside this dome, as no one else could. The diameter of this dome was more than a hundred meters, and the height was the same. There could be anything, and from the proportion of mana one felt only on this dome, it was obvious whatever was protected by it was simply incredible.

And now, this young Rohan from the other side had successfully entered. What did that mean? The old man didn't know. Seeing that not even a ripple appeared and that everything had come back in order, he decided to leave.

He had the great clans to inform, as something bad could happen at any moment. Since this man had tricked everyone, the Blackwolf clan should be innocent. Apart from a few questions he wanted to ask, the old man reckoned it was useless to reproach them about anything.

He stomped the ground, leaped in the air, and disappeared in the tunnel a dozen of meters above the ground.

Rohan opened his eyes. Through a blurry vision, all Rohan could see was the floor he was lying on. Soil, leaves, twigs. The wind brushed his hair and made him shudder from the soft cold, far more bearable than the mountain.

He straighten up as if he was an old grandpa, and sat up there. What was he doing here?

Suddenly the memories flowed back into his mind. The tunnel in the cold lake, the large cave, the huge red dome spinning there, the Intermediate Warrior, the red mana destroying his being.

Panic overflowed as he rapidly checked his body. His clothes were all torn away, with only his back full as it didn't touch the dome. His sword was still there, although with some scratches on the scabbard while his bag wasn't damaged at all. But most importantly, he had no injury.

Rohan switched his concentration and carefully sensed his mana. His expression changed instantly. The cracks had all disappeared as if it was only a dream, but the proof that it wasn't one was here as well: the mana feeling up his mana core and mana stone wasn't white. It was bloody red.

Instead of the calm mana that should hover quietly, the red one crackled and bounced around, as if it was made of red lightning. Soon, Rohan relaxed from the fright it had given him. He didn't feel any pain from the red mana anymore. On the contrary, he was now able to control it and move it inside his meridians as he wanted.

Since everything seemed to be fine in his body, Rohan decided to concentrate back on his surroundings. A headache appeared. What the hell happened exactly?

Around him, a forest spread toward the horizon in all directions. The trees, larger than him, grew up towards the sky. The light from the sun had some difficulties passing through the canopy, but it was enough to lighten the area.

Rohan didn't know where he was, but he had the nagging thought that he wasn't in the Barren Lands anymore.

"One moment, I am tortured inside a cold mountain. In the next one, I appear in the middle of a forest. What the hell should I do now?" Rohan was now completely lost. He had indeed become a Wizard some times ago, but he was far from being able to learn a teleportation spell.

Still, it was somewhat safe here, so it was good. At least the Intermediate Warrior didn't kill him, and he was relieved from this horrible pain. Just thinking about his body stuck against the red dome made Rohan shudder in fear.

He quickly took out the only clothes resting on his bag as he wanted to put them, but as his finger touched the inside of his bag, his expression changed. He had forgotten that everything was soaked in cold water.

He carefully observed around him, and seeing that there was no movement, he put all his belongings against the ground.

The few potions were all intact. It was only the weak mana potions as well as the one supposed to be a stronger rank. All the other ones were inside his other bag back at the Blackwolf clan.

The dried meat he always put in this bag for emergencies was now soaked and probably useless. The gourd of water was still closed. A small pan that he decided to put inside a long time ago was still there.

The Essence Stone didn't have any cracks or anything. The four books describing the way to become a wizard and a spell were strangely fine as the water didn't destroy the pages.

It was a good discovery, but not a shocking one. If the wizards were ready to use magic matter and created vials to store the weaker potions, it made sense if they wanted to protect a bit their most important knowledge.

His warriors' emblem was still there with a 3 on it. A random useless crest, two daggers he had forged himself, and finally some copper, iron, and gold coins.

Along with the clothes that needed to be dried. Rohan thought back to the day he had fled the battlefield and had lived for a short time in a forest, walking toward a random direction.

*Sigh*

"At least I am prepared this time." His eyes lingered on what he possessed.. "A bit."

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