Our Family Has Fallen

The environment of the dungeon was already an immense pressure, and even Alviss, this formidable Legendary Caster, felt its continuous impact.

Now, being compared by Lance and belittled against Alhazred, the accusations and neglect made his emotions unbearable, leaving him stunned for a moment.

At his age, with his strength, being scolded was something hard to endure, wasn’t it?

If it had been someone else, he would have shouted, "Legends are not to be insulted lightly!" and taken action by now, as if he had survived this long merely through purity?

His gaze shifted to the Holy Grail, continuously producing crystals, not to mention the countless resources here...

Being of humble origins, he was genuinely afraid of poverty. If he could attain these resources, further advancement would not be impossible.

Alviss could feel his body’s aging; even legends could not escape life’s inevitable cycle, though some special methods existed.

But he wasn’t foolish enough not to realize how unreliable the "Ascension" proclaimed by evil cults like the Ascension Sect was, and becoming undead was worse than dying.

So, he had gradually come to terms with it in recent years, appearing rather carefree.

Yet somehow, Lance’s timely healing allowed him to feel a resurgence of life within his withered body, allowing his dormant heart to stir.

Moreover, those trusted aides he had met earlier, their formidable presence and rapidly growing strength indicated Hamlet’s wonders.

Others might not perceive it, but he could sense the abundant life force here, transformed into a blood mist, realizing Hamlet’s secret was hidden here.

If only he could...

Unfortunately, just as Lance said, everyone present was a master; not to mention Alhazred, even the Lord offered no chance of victory.

However, a caster’s strength often lies not in direct engagement, and his strength was not suited for frontal combat.

Since they sought him for a portal, a bit of trickery could exile and seal the leaders, leaving those trusted aides not quite in his consideration.

𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

As for those outside?

Humph! If the evil cult can sacrifice, why can’t I?

Fight, fight, best if you help eliminate that Evil God, then just spreading news of the Lord being trapped would lure them here...

Upon thinking this, Alviss suppressed his dissatisfaction, instead showing a smile on his face.

For a Legendary Caster, a mere moment of hesitation was enough to decide, unwilling to linger, he quickly stepped up to express.

"The Lord speaks wisely; indeed, I was narrow-minded. I can also contribute to humanity."

Upon hearing this, Lance halted his steps, turned back with a peculiar look, suddenly speaking out a phrase.

"You are too greedy."

These words made Alviss, despite his deep scheming, freeze in expression. Just as he was about to explain, someone got ahead of him.

"Bang!"

A gunshot directly commenced the battle’s sequence, yet it was not Lance firing, but Dismas.

The trio had been fighting alongside the Lord from the beginning, their mutual understanding not needing words.

Thus, he dared to act directly because of an inexplicable phrase from the Lord.

Though Alviss was caught off guard, his equipment activated passively; his body, though visible, seemed to fall into another space.

The bullet passed through his form as if slicing through air, landing in empty space.

Alviss instinctively wanted to escape, but found the dungeon’s spatial restrictions made breaking free require preparation.

No time for more deliberation, he could only opt for immediate locations for teleportation, hoping to create distance.

But as the gunfire roared, Alhazred too acted, understanding he must stand with the Lord, else risk the entire effort.

Whether accusing Alviss wrongly, he thought the sacrifice was inevitable for the greater goal.

The Skull Candleholder in his hand emanated cold flames, instantly spawning countless shadow tentacles on the ground, dragging the elusive figure from another space.

At this moment, Alviss had to swing his wand, shattering the mirror-like image, breaking free from the shadow tendrils.

The next second, the figure appeared elsewhere, evading two attacks, yet even that was taxing; still, rest wasn’t an option, forcing him to lift his wand for casting.

An invisible blade appeared, slashing like a scimitar; without the red mist, it was virtually invisible.

Balistan, brandishing a shield upfront, met the spatial blade with a dull sound, remarkably even dissipating the force through the shield’s waves seemingly towering mountains and seas.

Luckily, he switched to extraordinary gear, as a regular shield might not withstand the hit.

Though now, attentions weren’t on this, if Alviss had distanced himself, perhaps he could prepare more spells to struggle, but Dismas already drew his shortsword for a swift, vicious thrusting, his actions filled with lethal intent.

Against casters, reloading ammunition was pointless, better to pursue aggressively, denying them time for spellcasting and preparation was the correct choice.

Meanwhile, fully armored Reynard also pressed closer, steady as a mountain, giving no semblance of a way out.

"Why are you doing this? I came to help!" Alviss shouted loudly, trying to disrupt their attack rhythm; a slight delay could allow him to cast spells.

But their attack showed no sign of pausing, growing fiercer instead; fortunately, Alviss, this legend, wasn’t a falsehood, under bizarre pressures, attacks landing only triggered spatial ripples around him.

Alhazred used a [Weakness Technique], the power of the ritual surfacing directly broke the mage’s shield.

Yet at this instant of hesitation, upon realization, he already saw the shield slapping directly.

The raging waves struck, causing genuine retreat, dizzying him, interrupting his prepared spells.

In such combat, dizziness was highly lethal, as everyone seized the opportunity.

Reynard caught the moment, swinging his sword to sever that head, causing everyone’s action to pause involuntarily.

Logically, this meant certain death, since even cultists couldn’t withstand decapitation.

However, eerily, no blood scattered from the falling head, its neck peculiarly smooth, resembling slices, even revealing contracting, writhing muscles and veins.

The eerie scene stunned everyone, yet Lance walked up with a smile, picking the head off the ground.

"Stop pretending."

Suddenly, that head opened its eyes widely, its ghastly visage terrifying, as if the strike hadn’t disconnected, both sides still connected somehow.

"I came to aid you, yet you attack because I won’t offer my ritual freely. You lure me here to seize my belongings, such malicious intent."

"Do you believe that yourself? Killing you would’ve been a matter of one move. Why bring you here, complicating things? It was a scholar’s recommendation; without it, why would you, an outsider, enter?"

Lance, unfazed by the accusation, nonchalantly debunked it.

No one else doubted, whereas Alhazred realized, if the Lord truly meant harm, it wouldn’t be necessary, as it was he who initiated it. Surely, he wouldn’t plot from within.

"Indeed, no intention to harm you, and it was my recommendation," Alhazred explained, further enraging the mage.

"Do you think I believe you! This is all part of your conspiracy; I failed, no more to say."

"Then why were you preparing a spell?" Lance smiled, instantly reviving the paused tension...