Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory

Chapter 1171: When Feylora Aims

Feylora didn’t spare those stares a single glance.

She lifted her palm. In front of it, golden runes rapidly interwove, threading themselves together until they formed a massive bow.

The bow’s body was made from the power of The Fey Sovereign itself. The bowstring, though—she tore that out of the surrounding heaven-and-earth energy by force, compressing it into a thin, razor-fine line of gold.

She drew the string back, eyes locking onto the blond man.

"In my eyes, you’re nothing but an ant hiding between rocks."

Her voice was clear as a bell—and packed with fury she didn’t bother to hide.

"What makes you think you’re qualified to fight my master?"

A golden arrow condensed on the string.

It didn’t look like it carried some absurd, overwhelming amount of energy.

No ocean of light. No space-shattering presence. It simply hovered there in silence, its tip aimed at the blond man, faint golden patterns flowing across its surface like a slow pulse.

Feylora released.

The golden arrow shot out.

It wasn’t even that fast—but the moment it left the string, it locked onto the blond man completely.

No matter how the golden energy around him twisted and warped, the arrow didn’t drift even a fraction. It advanced along a trajectory so steady it felt wrong, pushing forward with calm, merciless certainty.

The blond man’s expression snapped tight. He instantly split off part of his power to block it.

But when the arrow passed through that golden energy, it didn’t explode. It wasn’t swallowed, either. It was like an attack from a different layer of reality—quietly slipping past every obstruction—

And then it slammed into his shoulder.

Pfft!

It punched straight through his scapula.

A piercing scream tore across the sky.

Clutching his shoulder, the blond man staggered backward—and the golden energy sphere he’d been maintaining finally collapsed.

With its stabilizing source gone, the vortex in the high sky immediately tilted toward Ethan’s side. Ethan’s translucent lightning surged with it, swallowing huge swaths of golden energy in a single hungry sweep.

Ethan wasn’t about to let that opening go.

His body turned into lightning. He flashed through the collapsing storm of energy and appeared right in front of the blond man.

In his palm, the transparent lightning compressed to the absolute limit, then he drove it down—hard—onto the man’s wounded shoulder.

Violent power erupted from the point of contact.

The blond man was blasted away, his entire body turning into a streak of golden afterimage as he smashed toward a nearby mountain peak.

The shockwave from his flight scythed across the ridge, shaving off more than half the mountaintop. Broken rock and exposed mineral crystal were swept into the air—then pulverized into powder by the lingering force.

Ethan was just about to press in and finish him—

When Feylora had already drawn her bow again.

A second golden arrow formed.

This time, she aimed for the blond man’s heart.

Humm.

Humm.

Humm.

The sound of the arrow taking shape pulsed through the high sky in rapid, repeated tremors.

The power it radiated still didn’t look exaggerated, but the sense of lock-on was terrifying—like the world itself had decided where it was going to land.

The blond man had barely propped himself up from the rubble when he realized his heart had already been nailed in place by that arrow’s targeting.

He tried to move.

But Ethan’s palm strike had scattered most of the power in his body, and the wound in his shoulder still carried golden runes from The Fey Sovereign—a lingering brand he couldn’t shake.

He didn’t even have time to gather mineral-vein energy again.

All he could do was stare as the second golden arrow dropped from the sky.

It pierced his heart.

In the next instant, golden runes detonated from the wound.

A horrendous force expanded inside him—shredding his heart first, then ripping through his chest cavity, and finally bursting out from every part of his body in violent sprays.

His flesh couldn’t withstand that kind of internal eruption.

He exploded on the spot into chunks of blood and meat mixed with drifting golden light-dust.

His soul shot out from the shattered remains and bolted straight up toward the heavens.

Ethan had been ready for that.

Translucent lightning shot out from every direction, weaving into a net that sealed off the soul’s escape route.

The blond man’s spirit slammed into the electric web. It twisted violently as the arcs scorched it, yet he still roared in stubborn refusal.

"Brat, I’m the Overlord of this world!"

His voice shook with shock, fury—and real fear underneath it.

"You can’t kill me. Let me go, and maybe I’ll tell you where all the ore resources are!"

Ethan let out a cold snort, his gaze unwavering.

The clear lightning running along the net intensified, strand by strand, pressing the blond man’s soul back toward the center.

Electric light tore into the spirit-body, forcing out wisps of mingled Infernal Primordial Power and the mineral-vein aura of Morgrath.

"Once I take your power," Ethan said, "I’ll be the Overlord of this world."

His five fingers tightened slowly.

"And when that happens, every mineral deposit and resource vein will be sitting in my head."

He watched the soul thrash inside the net, his voice flat with killing intent.

"I have no reason to spare you."

The crackle of lightning spiked into a vicious crescendo.

The translucent web compressed inward. The blond man’s spirit was sliced apart again and again by the light. When the last layer finally tore open, his voice cut off completely—leaving only shattered soul-glow, which Ethan’s lightning ground into nothing.

The blond man vanished for good.

Ethan hovered in midair, breathing hard.

That fight had nearly drained him dry. Forcing those energy cores to fuse, then grappling head-on for Infernal Primordial Power—both had pushed his body and energy channels past their limit. Now that it was over, he finally felt it: hollowed out, like someone had scooped him clean. Even the flow of his ghastly pale lightning had slowed.

If Feylora hadn’t shown up—if she hadn’t used Morgrath’s mineral-vein energy to break through to the peak of 35 Tier and then shattered the deadlock with those two golden arrows—he honestly might not have won against that blond bastard.

Ethan glanced down at Feylora.

She was hovering too. The fairy wings behind her still hadn’t dispersed, and golden runes rotated lazily around her in a slow orbit. Her face had gone a little pale, but her eyes stayed hard and steady.

Then, as Ethan tried to catch his breath, the mountain range beneath them shifted again.

From the cracks ripped open by the battle, objects suddenly shot upward—chunks that looked like tokens.

They varied in size. Their surfaces were carved with mineral-vein patterns, and inside them, energy-light flowed in different colors. After bursting from the depths, they didn’t fall. They simply halted in midair, suspended as if some invisible rule was holding them up.

Ethan’s eyes lit.

He didn’t hesitate. He flashed forward and snatched two tokens out of the air with brute speed.

The moment they hit his palm, he felt the guidance inside them—mineral-vein directionality, clear and sharp. This wasn’t a normal map.

It was a key.

A key that pointed toward underground ore resources.

If someone gathered enough of these tokens, they could probably open more mining zones deep within Morgrath.

The instant Ethan moved, the people of Emerald Castle snapped into motion as well.

Fallen Star Guard, powered combat armor soldiers—even the goblin engineering teams—launched toward the sky, intercepting the scattered tokens.

Feylora beat her wings. Golden runes stitched themselves into a net in midair, forcibly stopping several tokens before they could escape.

These things were keys to the ore resources beneath the ground.

If they could collect them all... they might gain access to every mineral resource entry point in this world.

For a moment, the air above the mountain range became a battlefield of pure scrambling. Emerald Castle’s people moved fast, constantly cutting between fissures and turbulent energy currents to snag tokens. Each time they secured one, it was immediately sent to the rear, where the goblin engineers sealed it away for temporary storage.

But right when the fight over the tokens hit its fiercest point—

The sky not far away split open with a dimensional rift.

Black-red light curled along the edges. Space itself looked like it had been hacked apart by a dull axe, letting out a heavy, tearing sound as it opened wider.

Then an ugly minotaur stepped out.

He was massive—thick, heavy, built like a moving wall. His hide was covered in rough, uneven纹-like ridges, and two curved horns rose from his head with a dull, dark sheen. The moment he cleared the rift, a brutal pressure slammed down over the entire mountain range.

And embedded in the center of his chest—

Was a blood-red gemstone.

It pulsed, bright then dim, bright then dim, sending out a strange, wrong aura in steady waves.