Lynch awoke and immediately realized the terrifying situation. He was facing someone with formidable mind powers, yet couldn't cast a single spell. Even though he still had plenty of scrolls and magic wands in his possession, and an arcane staff hovering while maintaining invisibility beside him, any movement to retrieve a scroll would reveal the fact that he lacked power to his enemy.

"Hello, my name is Lynch." The mage straightforwardly extended his right hand, as if meeting an old friend, greeting his enemy with a smile. The archbishop didn't react immediately, or perhaps he had played the friendly role for so long it had become a habit. He even extended his hand to shake Lynch's.

"What spell did you just use? My mind suddenly became clear and unburdened." Lynch tightly held the archbishop's hand and said, "Can you teach me that spell?"

It was only then that the archbishop had a sudden realization. He swiftly withdrew his hand and took a step back. Yet, he hesitated over whether to use Spirit Shock again; the previous surprise attack apparently hadn't "harmed" the opponent. He tightly held on to the Eight-Headed Snake Emblem, thinking, 'As soon as I enter the Teleportation Stone, I'll go to a place accessible only to those with an Eight-Headed Snake Emblem. Their enemy only had a Seven-Headed Serpent Emblem, so he couldn't possibly follow me.' Thus, the large, dark stone behind Lynch became the archbishop's hope.

Even though Lynch maintained a smile, he did not let down his guard, instead focusing all his attention on observing the opponent's expression and movements. From the eyes and whole body muscle movements, a good mage could predict the opponent's tactics, even guess what spells he might cast—if the opponent were also a mage. Even though Lynch couldn't display one hundred percent of his power now, he still possessed the advantage earned through long-term training.

The archbishop furrowed his brow, looking at the Red Robed Mage in front of him, unable to immediately detect his weakness. Because any warrior or spellcaster always develops habits over time, any habit has both pros and cons, forming a pattern. A Spiritual Mage must find this pattern to exploit it and achieve control over the opponent.

"Lynch, isn't that the title of the leader of the Mage Association?" The archbishop asked, all the while closely watching the other's hands and face to prevent him from launching a spell attack. "Why, sir, have you come to this remote corner, and is there anything I can do for you?"

"I want the Eight-headed Evil Emblem in your hand." Lynch directly proposed a condition he knew the other would never agree to. If he hadn't temporarily lost his mana, he would naturally have made such a request as well. The most important thing now was to make the opponent believe he was entirely unharmed by the previous attack.

"That is absolutely impossible," the bishop responded. "This is the emblem of the New Sun God, not some Evil Emblem. I originally thought you mages were people of logic and strict living, but now you so rashly jump to conclusions. It's absurd."

Lynch smiled with a relaxed expression. "Ah, you're right. It's precisely because of the aforementioned qualities that I call it an Evil Emblem." He extended his left hand, spreading it openly before the archbishop. "You'd better give it to me quickly."

"I've always wanted a mage pet!" The archbishop realized there was no escape, immediately initiating a mental attack. But this time he didn't use the destructive Spirit Shock; instead, he employed Intelligence Whip and Soul Surgery simultaneously. One of his pupils glimmered with golden light, while the other was a strange blue-purple. Sweat continuously gathered on the archbishop's forehead, clearly concentrating deeply on the mage.

Lynch felt enormous pressure, visions flickering before his eyes. Some meaningless lines and colors shimmered, adding wailing sounds in his ears. Occasionally, scenes from his past life would leap into his view, only to vanish in a flash. He tried to focus his mind, but found the more he tried, the more the dizzying feeling intensified.

"You're trying to control me!" Lynch squeezed out the words from between his teeth. It was difficult for him to concentrate his senses, and after much effort, he only occasionally glimpsed his opponent's true position. "You'll never succeed!"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.