My Magic Has No Upper Limit

A Warrior could hack away for three days and nights and still not cause this much damage.

Zelir had intended to help Marcus to his feet, but Marcus surprisingly got up on his own.

Aside from a slightly pale face, his movements were still quite steady.

’Alright then...’

Zelir silently retracted his hand.

Over where Valles was, the few remaining Skeleton People were quickly picked off.

At this point, the Demons inside the Underground Tomb had been completely wiped out.

The five members of the party gathered in the center of the great hall.

Zelir cast Healing Skill on Maki one more time.

The flesh and tendons around Maki’s shoulder blades still hadn’t completely healed.

With this one healing from Zelir, the torn tissues grew rapidly, quickly reattaching themselves to the bone.

"Don’t you—"

Zelir was just about to stop him when he saw Maki twisting his right arm.

"Whoa..."

Maki rotated his right shoulder a couple of times and exclaimed in admiration, "You’re a miracle worker, Zelir."

Zelir opened his mouth, at a bit of a loss for words.

Just ten-odd minutes ago, Maki’s right shoulder had been pierced by a Long Halberd, and even the bone had been shattered.

Now he actually dared to move the injured area, and it didn’t even seem to be a big deal.

"What were you about to say?" Maki looked at Zelir.

"N-nothing." Zelir swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

’Their Constitutions are all monstrous...’

"Gray..."

Valles’s voice was a little hesitant. "Just now... you broke through, didn’t you?"

As soon as he said this, Zelir, Marcus, and Maki all turned to look at Gray in unison.

’Gray broke through?’

"Yes."

Gray nodded. Unlike his usual flippancy, his face wore a proud smile.

"I didn’t expect to break through in this battle either."

"Attaboy, Gray! I thought you were going to be a Junior Warrior for the rest of your life."

Marcus clapped Gray hard on the shoulder, genuinely happy for him. "What kind of Fighting Qi Attribute is it?"

"Wind Attribute."

Gray drew his Longsword three inches from its sheath, and a cyan light flowed and flickered along the blade.

Then he sheathed it again. With a "CLINK," the ring of the sword was crisp, like a wind chime.

Zelir also smiled, gratified.

Now, with another Middle Level Swordsman in the party, their overall combat power had risen to a new level.

Valles stared at Gray’s Longsword, a look of envy flashing across his face.

When advancing from a Junior Class to a Middle Level Class, besides perfectly fusing with the user, Fighting Qi would sometimes develop special Attributes.

Like Valles’s thunder.

Although the devastatingly powerful Thunder Fighting Qi was excellent, what Valles actually wanted most was the Wind Attribute Fighting Qi that Gray had awakened.

Agile and elegant, it could make an Arrow fly faster and even alter its trajectory to some extent.

Most importantly, in Valles’s homeland, most Elves who reached a Middle Level Class also awakened Wind Attribute Fighting Qi.

"Now I’m finally starting to believe it."

Maki grinned. "To be honest, I always thought you were bluffing when you said you became a Junior Swordsman at fifteen."

"Once you’re fully healed, we can have a sparring match and you’ll see," Gray laughed as well.

After the great battle subsided, the Underground Tomb fell silent once more.

It was just much more dilapidated than before, giving it the feel of a Lost Divine Hall.

After a short rest, the party members began to scour the battlefield, looking for any clues or items worth salvaging.

The bones littering the ground were basically worthless.

Those Skeleton People had been quite formidable when they were alive, but after death, they were nothing but scattered white bones.

They didn’t even have Demon Cores.

Zelir casually kicked through the pile of debris left after the Bone Centaur collapsed, wanting to see if anything had been missed.

Suddenly, from within the pile of gray-white bone dust, a deep purple light began to quietly emanate.

’What the hell...!’

Zelir’s scalp tingled. The light at the tip of his Night Peace Staff immediately began to flicker, and his Ring of Resistance was primed, ready to be released at any moment.

’Don’t tell me the Bone Centaur is coming back to life?!’

But he soon got a clear look at the scene.

It was just a small, purple orb of light.

And the pile of bones showed no sign of reassembling, remaining still and suffused with Death Qi.

’Alright... looks like I was overthinking it.’

Out of caution, however, Zelir remained on high alert.

Just as he was about to call the others over to have a look, something strange happened.

The purple orb of light, as if answering some summons, suddenly flared to life and rushed toward Zelir at extreme speed.

Zelir didn’t even have time to react before his consciousness was instantly pulled into another world.

The visionary scene before his eyes slowly materialized.

It was the same scene from the old world that had appeared when he heard the tyrannical prayer before.

A complete picture of the apocalypse.

This time, Zelir’s consciousness felt as if it had been stuffed into the body of a human in some kind of livestock pen.

Beyond the livestock pen was a boundless, gray wasteland. Even the sky, a symbol of freedom, was a despairing sight.

Everything in the surroundings was radiating intense negative emotions.

Numbness, fear, hatred...

These emotions were like poison, reaching across time and space to affect Zelir’s consciousness.

He looked down at his hands.

His forearms were withered and thin, his skin a waxy yellow from chronic malnutrition, and the crevices under his fingernails were packed with black grime.

A strange symbol was also branded on the back of his hand.

Although Zelir couldn’t understand it, it was surely a mark of this body’s status as a slave.

As his gaze shifted to his surroundings, the scene became even more suffocating.

Inside the huge enclosure where he was, there were only other humans, just like him.

Some were curled up in corners, muttering to the empty air, while others, like actual livestock, fought over the rotten entrails of some unknown creature on the ground.

Everyone was draped in just a few scraps of ragged sackcloth; it would be an understatement to say they were barely clothed.

They were filthy from head to toe, reeking of a foul stench, and their eyes were vacant, completely devoid of the shame and dignity of being human.

’If I had to live in a scene like this...’

’I’d probably just kill myself, wouldn’t I?’

Zelir couldn’t help but think.

Suddenly, a strong tremor came from the ground beneath him. The man whose body Zelir’s consciousness possessed subconsciously looked up.

’What’s happening?’

Under the gloomy gray sky, on the distant horizon, a world-blotting wave of wind swept forth in a ring.

At first, that ring of wind was purely transparent.

But with every stretch of land it swept across, the ring-shaped wave would be stained with a touch of red.

From light red, to true red, and then to a crimson as deep as blood.

Wherever the wave of wind passed, all life was extinguished.

It was like a scythe, mercilessly reaping living souls.

The violent gales would rip their bodies to shreds; the deepening red of the wave was their blood.