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

“You damn bastard! Quit twisting the truth!” Francis roared. “Alan went through hell and back dragging his sick little sister all the way to your Lioncrest Academy just to ask for help, to save her life! And what did you do? Not only did you refuse treatment, you kicked them both out like garbage!”

He clenched his fists and spat furiously, “You all act like your damn academy is some heavenly gate! Let me tell you, no one gives a damn about your lousy academy!”

“I say forget the name Lioncrest Academy—call it Mutt Academy instead!”

Seeing their brother being humiliated and brutalized, Francis and Fort couldn’t sit still any longer. With curses flying, they stepped forward, trying to wrest Alan free from Stephen’s grip.

Stephen gave a cold snort, his gaze cutting toward them like a blade.

“Ignorant worms. Noisy little pests.”

With that, he raised his hand and slammed it down with terrifying force. A blast of mana surged forward like a cannonball, slamming directly into Francis and Fort.

They stood no chance against a Legendary mage’s power.

Both were sent flying instantly, and the stench of blood quickly filled the top floor of the monastery.

Stephen turned back around, a mocking smile on his face as he looked at Alan.

“Alan… you killed our academy’s elite student Eisen, and another 114 regular students.”

“Today, I may not have 114 people to throw at you… but I can still kill every last one of your friends and make them die in place of my students!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Before anyone could react, Blanche—unnoticed until now—had snuck behind Stephen with a dagger in hand. Just as she was about to strike, Stephen suddenly turned his head. With one swift motion, his mana-shaped, razor-sharp hand pierced straight through Blanche’s shoulder.

The sound of flesh tearing filled the room.

And Francis and Fort, still barely conscious, weren’t spared either.

Mana nails, which Stephen had already prepared within his palm, flew out and pinned them violently to the floor. Blood burst forth, pooling together with Blanche’s into a dark, crimson lake.

“Stop… you bastard, stop!!”

Alan screamed with everything he had, his voice raw and shaking the air.

But Stephen looked like a grim reaper cast in ice. He didn’t respond, didn’t flinch, didn’t pause. He kept channeling mana, coldly torturing those Alan held dear.

“STOP!!”

Suddenly, Alan’s eyes were dyed a deep, blood-red hue.

A strange, overwhelming surge of mana erupted from within him, wave after wave bursting outward.

Everyone nearby was stunned to discover that, for a split second, their connection to their own mana circuits was severed—just for an instant.

Even Stephen was not immune.

Alan’s expression was now eerily calm. With a slow, steady motion, he gripped Stephen’s wrist—the one that was still clutching his throat—and squeezed.

Crack. Snap.

The sounds of bone fracturing echoed clearly from Stephen’s wrist.

Stephen’s face twisted in pain. He instinctively tried to pull his hand back.

But Alan didn’t give him a chance. His grip was like a steel vice, locking Stephen’s hand in place with terrifying force.

The spectators gasped, frozen in disbelief.

Stephen wasn’t just anyone—he was the headmaster of Lioncrest Academy. One of the only four Legendary mages in the entire Plantagenet Kingdom.

And yet here he was, his arm trapped by a Tier-Gold like Alan?

That… that wasn’t possible!

“Wait a second… his method of enhancing his body with mana… and the way he’s fusing elemental energy with it… could it be—Mana Compression?”

“Mana Compression? That’s impossible! That lost art of mana manipulation is one of the most difficult in history. How could someone like him, just a Tier-Gold, possibly master it? Only the legendary archmage Jacob ever succeeded with it!”

“But think about it—Mana Compression is the pinnacle of internal mana control. Alan, being a magus, is already at the top of external control. If he’s truly mastering both at once… then who the hell can fight him?!”

“No way. No freakin’ way. He’s still only Tier-Gold! Even if he has mastered both techniques, at best he’s only matching Stephen evenly. And Stephen hasn’t even used his full strength yet!”

The surrounding Legendary mages erupted into hushed arguments and disbelief. Meanwhile, Stephen was practically fuming.

He was a Legendary mage! And now he was losing a contest of raw strength to a Tier-Gold? If this got out, how the hell was he supposed to show his face again?

“Fine, you won’t let go? Then DIE!!”

Stephen raised his other hand and, faster than lightning, smashed it against Alan’s chest.

He too knew how to use mana to enhance physical attacks—not as powerful as Mana Compression, but still lethal.

Alan didn’t have the Legendary-level defense to withstand that blow.

And sure enough, upon impact, Alan coughed up a massive mouthful of blood. His body flew backward, crashing down into the bloody pool that had formed from his friends’ injuries.

Alan’s vision spun. The world blurred. Exhaustion and pain flooded his body, and every nerve screamed danger. Every cell felt like it was screaming for help.

Step… step… step…

Stephen approached slowly, his expression dark. He rubbed his sore hand as he moved toward Alan.

Each footstep echoed like a funeral bell. For Alan, it marked the countdown to death.

“You little bastard… you’re dying today. I said so.”

“I don’t care if the whole Church rises up. I don’t care if the Plantagenet Kingdom sends every last powerhouse. No one can save you now.”

“Al…an…”

Next to him, Francis—his face pale as a corpse—reached out a trembling hand and hooked his fingers around Alan’s shoulder.

“Sorry… Alan… I… I was too weak. Couldn’t protect you… If there’s a next life… I hope we can still be brothers…”

“Don’t say that!!”

Alan gripped Francis’s hand tightly—but all he felt was coldness.

Francis… gave no response.

“Tch. Still alive, bug?”

Stephen stepped forward and kicked Francis’s body aside like trash. Then he raised his other foot and stomped on Alan’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

Towering over him, Stephen sneered arrogantly.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you have some ‘mysterious backer’ pulling the strings behind you? Someone guiding you from the shadows?”

“Come on, call them! Summon them now! One comes—I kill one. Two come—I kill both!”

“I’m going to destroy everything you care about. Crush it all. And then, I’ll let you die in endless agony. That’s the only way I’ll feel better… the only way my 114 dead students can rest in peace.”

“Say something. Say something, damn it!”

“Where’s all that arrogance you had at the gates of our academy? Where’s your barking now, mutt?”

“No words? Fine. Let me help you out.”

Stephen began shaping his mana again, this time molding it into a large pair of pliers. With cruel precision, he jammed them into Alan’s mouth.

Crack!

With a small twist of his wrist, one of Alan’s teeth was torn straight out. Blood splattered down his chin, dripping from the root of the tooth still stuck in the mana-pliers…

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