Chapter 691: Chapter 24: When Enemies Meet

The flying aircraft descended slowly like a giant whale in the deep sea, finally hovering steadily above the massive square in the center of those magnificent ruins.

The edge of the square was shrouded in a faint, almost transparent energy film, like a giant bubble, isolating the seawater and maintaining the dryness and stability of the inner space.

The flying aircraft penetrated this film without any obstruction, with a slight tremor, and its sturdy body finally touched the ground, which was made of peculiar stone, still flat after countless eons.

The hum of the engine gradually subsided, the hatch opened, and the passengers, with various emotions, disembarked in succession, stepping onto this legendary land.

Beneath their feet were cold and hard giant stone slabs, etched with ancient patterns and writings that were long indecipherable.

All around were collapsed temples, broken columns, and the silent remains of giant statues watching over them, all speaking of the former glory of this civilization and its sudden destruction.

The air was filled with the unique salty, humid fragrance of the deep sea, and an even richer sense of age and desolation belonging to time and extinction.

Lynch’s gaze was immediately drawn to the scene at the very center of the square—

It wasn’t any building or statue, but a slowly rotating black vortex, about ten meters in diameter.

It seemed to rip space apart directly, suspended several meters above the ground, its interior a bottomless darkness, even devouring surrounding light, exuding an unsettling attraction and mystery.

Kong unknowingly stood beside Lynch, gazing in the same direction, and softly explained, “Do you see it? That black vortex is the entrance to the ’Lost Tower.’”

She paused, then continued, “But the entrance is currently in a closed state. When it officially opens, the vortex will change from black to a ghostly purple, and the area will rapidly expand, stabilizing into a passable teleportation gate.”

Lynch was intently observing the eerie black vortex, trying to perceive the spatial rules it contained. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine as a cold and familiar malevolence like a venomous snake seized him from behind, locking onto him firmly!

This malevolence was mixed with bone-deep hatred, a violent desire for destruction, and a unique filthiness from being eroded by the abyss.

Lynch swiftly turned around, his gaze sharp as lightning, instantly piercing through the crowd to accurately capture the source of the malice.

At the edge of the square, in front of the group from the Tower of Order, a figure was staring at him with eyes full of extreme resentment.

One side of his body seemed roughly modified, covered with a dark red, almost living keratin layer, with exposed skin scarred terrifyingly from severe burns. It was that former opponent from the Sky World, the Skyhunter Guild leader—Ragnar!

And beside Ragnar stood a male witch wearing a dark gray Tower of Order robe with a sinister face.

A Late Domain’s unfathomable pressure emanated from him, and at this moment, his eyes, cold as a snake’s, sinisterly focused on Lynch, with a faint, calculating, malevolent smile on his lips.

It was the wizard from the Tower of Order, Cyrus!

Seeing an enemy face to face inflamed emotions!

Ragnar’s eyes, nearly spitting fire, and Cyrus’ blatant cold hostility acted like two poisonous daggers, instantly shattering the originally oppressive yet relatively calm atmosphere of the square.

Lynch’s gaze, like the most precise probe, swept swiftly over Ragnar. He immediately noticed the other’s abnormalities—

The dark red keratin layer that seemed to be alive, covering one side, and the hideous burn scars on the exposed skin all testified to the horrible trauma and rough makeshift modifications Ragnar had undergone.

Though the searing Flame Domain aura remained ferocious, its intensity had clearly fallen by a whole tier, from the once suffocating Mid Domain level, back to the Early Domain level.

’It seems that although he narrowly escaped death last time, the price he paid was indeed not small.’ Lynch thought coldly.

Just then, Ragnar stepped forward, the air around him distorted by high temperatures, while his eyes, filled with ferocity and abyssal aura, fixed brutally on Lynch, squeezing out a hoarse, hysterical low howl through gritted teeth, as rough as sandpaper rubbing:

“You damned bastard! I’ll settle the score with you here, bit by bit! I’ll tear your limbs apart, extract your soul, and imprison it in the Abyssal Fire to burn forever!”

Facing this venomous roar, Lynch merely shrugged indifferently, his tone calm and even slightly lazy: “The howls of a defeated dog are always especially loud. You can try, and see if you’ll have the same ’luck’ as last time to escape with half a life.”

His strength now was far beyond what it used to be, even capable of fighting Ragnar in his prime, let alone now with his level fallen. This undisguised contempt was like oil on the fire.

Ragnar trembled with rage, the keratin layer on his body writhing violently, on the verge of exploding.

At this moment, Cyrus’ cold voice sounded as he stepped forward, blocking the nearly out-of-control Ragnar, his snake-like eyes fixed on Lynch, a discomforting sneer on his lips:

“Boy, don’t get too complacent. The Lost Tower is full of dangers, and ’accidents’ can happen at any time. Whether you can walk out alive depends on your luck.”

This was nearly a blatant threat!

Lynch raised an eyebrow, the relaxed expression on his face slightly restrained, showing a hint of seriousness. Being so hated and threatened by a Great Wizard at Late Domain was indeed no good.

However, before he could respond, a voice filled with arrogance and disdain interrupted from beside him.

“Ha!”

Vanilla Ella parted the crowd and approached with brisk steps. Her fiery red hair like a burning banner, she boldly met Cyrus’ icy gaze, her voice extremely firm:

“Cyrus, do you think this is your Land of Freedom where you can run wild? Lynch Valen is now an invited scholar of Fran, under the protection of Fran’s knowledge and the rules of order. If you want to touch him here, have you asked Fran, have you asked my sword if it agrees?”

Her words were imposing, carrying the unique dominance and confidence of the Ela family, rudely countering Cyrus’ threat.

Cyrus’ expression suddenly stiffened, instantly turning terribly grim.

Facing Vanilla Ella’s provocation, he didn’t retort back but merely let out a heavy, cold snort, his gaze turning even more sinister but temporarily unable to utter stronger words.

Lynch couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

This Cyrus was a Late Domain figure, and yet Vanilla Ella could render him speechless. What level of existence was she?

The atmosphere on the square turned even more tense and subtle with Vanilla Ella’s intervention, forming a temporary standoff.

However, amidst this tense moment, leisurely footsteps suddenly came from the side behind them, followed by a voice with a hint of flippancy and a counterfeit warmth, breaking the tense situation:

“Oh? It’s lively here, isn’t it?”

This voice…

Lynch’s expression froze instantly, a trace of utter astonishment and coldness emerged in his gray eyes.

He turned sharply, following the voice.

In the shadow of a section of dilapidated building at the square’s edge, a figure slowly emerged.

He wore a neat, even resplendent wizard robe, his hair meticulously groomed, a flawless, friendly smile on his face as if seeing an old friend.

But most striking were those gray eyes, similar to Lynch’s, only filled with an icy and gloomy chill deep within them.

Old memories rushed rapidly into Lynch’s mind, and a long-buried name resurfaced—

ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ Novᴇl_Fire(.)net

Al Fredo!

“Long time no see, my dear… ’friend.’”

Alfred greeted Lynch warmly with a beaming smile.

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