Chapter 50: I Can Take On Ten

In Daniel’s eyes, the best solution for Mei Mumu was to dodge aside and eliminate one opponent as quickly as possible. At least then, the situation could be dragged into a stalemate.

It was rather shameful to admit, but over a third of Kamar-Taj’s elite had succumbed to Kaecilius’s temptation of immortality and gone over to the enemy. The defenders within a single sanctuary weren’t on par with these fallen ones.

Daniel felt immense pressure. Facing the so-called once-in-a-century genius Kaecilius, he was far from confident, with less than a twenty percent chance of victory. The truth was, the Ancient One had even considered letting Kaecilius replace the aging Alec, Guardian of the London Sanctuary, as his successor. Who could have foreseen all this...

Even knowing that it was unfair to let Mei Mumu—a rookie who hadn’t even received formal mage credentials—shoulder such responsibility, Daniel couldn’t help but hope that Mei Mumu could at least hold out a little longer. If the number of Kaecilius’s fanatical followers could be reduced to one or two, perhaps Daniel could stand a chance in a fight; otherwise, he would likely be finished in the first exchange.

Mei Mumu—

He stood like a towering sea cliff amidst a howling storm, a steadfast pillar guarding the heart of a perilous whirlpool. At the top of the stairs, for all to see, his every move radiated fearless resolve!

He did not dodge or retreat,

Staff in his left, sword in his right;

Standing at the edge of the abyss,

Overlooking all beneath the heavens!

Even the well-traveled Guardian Daniel couldn’t help but silently praise him.

Of course, it would be even better if Mei Mumu could withstand the next assault.

Three fallen ones advanced—one suddenly slowed and fell behind, unleashing a volley of dark arrows. Though not as violent as Kaecilius, the threat was just as severe. The other two kicked off with a single foot, and the magic within their boots sent them surging forward like twin gales.

Facing the imminent barrage of dark magical bolts, Mei Mumu reversed his grip on the Vatu Magic Sword with his right hand, and in less than a tenth of a second, his extended forefinger and middle finger traced a circle in the air.

A portal sprang into existence!

Every dark bolt hurtling toward his chest vanished into the portal, who knows to what corner of the earth. Simultaneously, with a fierce swing of his left arm, the Staff of the Living Tribunal crashed down upon the long flight of stairs.

Countless splinters of wood and shards of stone instantly exploded outward.

“Anuodoaaaka!” A simple incantation, signifying the activation of anti-gravity magic.

Fragments that should have scattered in all directions were, under the force of tenfold reversed gravity, propelled upward in a blast, like the shrapnel of a fragmentation grenade.

No mage’s body, no matter how tough, could compare to Iron Man’s armor or the Hulk’s impenetrable skin.

It was obvious to all: if the fallen ones didn’t defend themselves before reaching Mei Mumu, they’d be riddled with holes. All three hastily changed tactics, conjuring magical shields to protect their lower bodies.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!” The explosion of shrapnel was like a rapid-fire air gun.

Wood splinters and stone fragments, unenchanted, were blocked by the shields. But in the next instant, a nine-section whip shimmering with golden light swept in a wide arc.

“Crash! Crash! Crash!” Like bowling pins, the three fallen ones, caught off guard by Mei Mumu’s rapid counter, were sent flying and collided with one another midair. The momentum of the whip even bound the trio together.

In that split second as they failed to recover, Mei Mumu activated the Boots of Valtor, leaping skyward like a flash of lightning.

A simple horizontal slash with his right hand, and the translucent Vatu Magic Sword flashed.

Three heads, their sockets ringed by deep shadow, soared into the air.

Every face in the hall—friend and foe alike—was filled with astonishment.

Dominating!

Absolutely overwhelming!

If Mei Mumu’s first double kill at the opening was merely a display of magical skill, this triple beheading was pure, practiced lethality.

To predict the enemies’ moves and reactions, and then, with minimal magic and simplest spells, inflict the maximum damage—this was a style that should be impossible for a mere apprentice mage.

Seeing the insignia of a Kamar-Taj magic apprentice on Mei Mumu’s chest, Kaecilius, for the first time, found him unbearably conspicuous.

The situation had already shifted on the battlefield.

While Mei Mumu eliminated three fallen ones, all the Kamar-Taj mages except Daniel had fallen as well—only three remained alive, and they were barely breathing. One more strike would finish them.

The situation could not have been more dire.

Daniel himself had taken a hit; the outside of his left arm was scorched black, likely struck by some high-intensity fire spell. Worse still, besides Kaecilius, who had yet to descend into battle, there were still ten fallen ones remaining below.

Kaecilius made a downward gesture, and the fallen ones immediately halted their attack. Two kept their eyes fixed on Daniel, while the rest all glared at Mei Mumu, as if wishing to tear the flesh from his bones.

“Oh? If I’m not mistaken, you must be Stephen ‘Wood’ Strange, isn’t that right?” Kaecilius, his right eye twitching, spoke with such apparent amiability that Mei Mumu, standing atop the steps, felt a chill run through him.

Mei Mumu tilted his head. “Hello! We meet again, Kaecilius. You should call me Mei Mumu, or Dr. Mei.”

“Doctor?”

The word ‘Doctor’ in English meant both ‘physician’ and ‘scholar.’

Mei Mumu, with a touch of dark humor, corrected his adversary.

“Doctor!” he said, raising his hands, both backs riddled with surgical scars. “Of course, when you attacked me months ago, I was just an ordinary man with crippled hands. Well, my hands are still crippled, but at least now I’m a Kamar-Taj magic apprentice, am I not?”

That title, magic apprentice, cut deep into the hearts of every fallen one.

After all, even the most inexperienced among them had been a full mage before defecting!

Now, five of their comrades had been slain by a magic apprentice—one who could even qualify for a disabled person’s certificate. They had lost all face.

Every fallen one’s breath grew heavy, their eyes blazing with hatred. But since their leader Kaecilius said nothing, none dared to make a move.

Kaecilius still barely maintained his composure. For a master mage like himself to lose his temper with an apprentice would be beneath him.

“Well! Apprentice Mei Mumu... Doctor, you have slain five of the great Dark Lord Dormammu’s servants. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” By the end, his voice had grown frigid, the murderous intent in his words almost tangible.

Even Daniel, who wasn’t the main target, felt the crushing pressure, an overwhelming force that made it hard to breathe.

But who could have guessed—

Mei Mumu merely pursed his lips, shrugged indifferently, and replied, “Anything to say? Yes—I! Want! To! Fight! Ten! At! Once!”