Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

"It's quite bloody," Tytus muttered under his nose, observing the battle from a small hill where Mukken brought him. 

Despite how eager he was to join on the side of his former companions, he dared not to make even the slightest move in the presence of this being that took over his master's body. 

"That's how battles are," Bart commented offhandedly, not showing any interest in the battle at all. 

"What's even the point of this battle, master," Tytus asked, forcing himself to use the title he reserved only for Mukken in his heart. That was how big his hopes for the answer were. 

Yet, instead of replying, Bart smiled gently and kept his lips pursed. 

The battle continued to develop. The initial skirmishing quickly came to an end when Layn's forces showered both sides with long-distance magic bombardment. 

A few moments later, all three forces clashed with each other, proving that Layn's plan actually made some sense. 

"I can't believe they didn't notice it," Tytus commented again, striking his face as he watched how his former companions committed this massive blunder. 

They had the most numerous and easily the strongest army on the field. Yet, rather than using the numbers to their advantage and encircling the entire battlefield, they limited the scope of their attack to the narrow front that the other party could afford. 

"It's not that simple, son," Bart finally opened his mouth. "The moment they outstretch their flanks, Slavian cavalry would rout them out," he explained. 

Mukken created a flat, oily surface that hung right before Tytus' eyes with a single snap of his fingers. On the surface, the student of the overseer of the world could see a massive contingent of the heavy cavalry waiting for the opportunity to strike. 

Behind them, a detachment twice as big waited for their turn, ready to enter the gap created by their heavier counterpart and bring devastating casualties to anyone unlucky enough to find themselves under the hooves of their horses. 

"Still..." Tytus had a hard time accepting the prowess of the other side. "I find it hard to believe that the cultivators would be defeated by some mortal horsemen!" he exclaimed.

Even though he has long abandoned both his mortal and immortal way of living, he still couldn't accept the plain stupidity before his eyes. 

"Is that really what you think?" Bart laughed out, snapping his fingers again. The image on the oily mirror changed, turning towards a small group of people dressed in black robes. 

In the middle of their tiny formation, there was a strange symbol adorned with gold and precious stones. It consisted of a single-pole erected high above everyone's head and two more poles, a third and a fourth in size when compared to the main one, hanging diagonally from the main pole. 

"What is that?" Tytus asked, puzzled by the strange item. With how an entire group of ten people had to hold it upright, it was clear how important it was... But he couldn't see any use for it!

Was it a siege weapon? Strange sort of contraption? Massive ram used to break and disturb the enemy formations?

"Its name would tell you nothing," Bart said, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "But the moment they set it up on top of that ridge, no mana will flow in any place that its shine will fall on," Mukken's body said before its eyes suddenly sharpened. "But now, let's get back to the battle," Bart pointed out, finally moving his attention back to Layn's struggle. 

And a struggle it was. 

After the initial injury to his torso, his fighting ability decreased by a whole lot. While the injury itself wasn't lethal for him, it still took a huge portion of his focus to keep it healing while warding off continuous attacks of his opponent. 

But what was even worse, the battle all around finally resumed. With Layn's injury serving as a massive morale boost to the cultivators, they quickly started to push at Layn's forces, exposing Al and Irea to some sneak attacks from the back. 

In Layn's case, all he had to do toward those attacks from weaker celestials off was to keep a single, weak barrier to his back. 

But it was still too early for Irea to do the same. With how focused she was on protecting Al and herself from Faglar's attacks, she could barely spare any mind to ward off the attacks from the army that already surrounded them!

"Don't look away!" Consal shouted, rejoicing in the situation. 

Despite the initial drawbacks, he was clearly gaining the upper hand both in the fight and in the battle in general. 

'Who cares about the left-wing,' he thought, glancing over to the area where Slavians pushed his people out. 'We are winning to the right and in the center!' he exclaimed in his thoughts, showering Layn's weakening defenses with more and more punches. 

The walk through the void that allowed Consal to inflict a massive injury to the young opponent of his was a one-time trick. Not only did it consume an enormous amount of energy, but it also required a massive amount of focus and at least a few moments of relative peace of mind. 

As if guessing those factors out, despite his injuries, this damned mage didn't give him even a second of a breather. Every second, the chief of the forces that Consal came here to squash would not only repel all of Consal's attacks but also pay him back with plenty of his own!

'This is going in a bad direction,' Layn thought, sending a flurry of weak attacks just to keep his enemy occupied. 

Even though he was healing his injury, it would still take a while for it to be fully fixed. But what was the worst part about this wound was that the moment he would stop treating it, his mana would start to leak out, severely compromising his fighting ability. 

'Should I use it?' This one thought appeared in Layn's mind. 

He still had the one weapon, the one kind of spell that he only recently learned of how ultimate it was. The one kind of magic that, when discovered, its inventors decided to bury all the truth about it, replacing it with lies dismissing its worth. 

Layn still had nuclear magic.

'But if I use it and fail to control it...' he quickly hesitated, casting another look towards his beloved one. 

Keeping Irea safe was Layn's absolute bottom line. The one thing that he would stop at nothing to achieve. 

And right now, with Al's body covered in cuts, bruises, and burns, it was clear that the girl's time was also running out. 

Click. 

A feeling of completion spread throughout Layn's body. It was his organism's way of telling that the process of healing his wound was finally over. 

'Now we are talking,' Layn smiled, feeling how the massive chunk of his power was back for him to freely use. 

An enhanced firelance appeared in each of his hands, both of them outfitted with tracking spell, explosive attribute, and implosion curse. Each of those effects turned this simple fire-blade into a weapon of mass destruction. 

But right now, Layn couldn't care less. 

"Let me give you the taste of..." he said in glee, raising his right hand to throw the first lance...

"AH!" A short shout broke Layn's momentum, forcing him to look to the side. 

Some fucker put his sword through Irea's waist. Her mouth filled with blood. 

For Layn, the time ground down to a half. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his girl getting injured.

The lances in his spears collapsed, falling apart into basic spell structures that instantly crashed into each other, unleashing the inferno of flames to the world around the archmage. 

His heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second, just while hate replaced all the other emotions in his soul.

All the hesitation was gone. All the doubts were gone. All the reins disappeared.

Before even a second could pass, spheres of implosion appeared in Layn's palms, sucking all the raging flames in. 

And in the next moment, the delicate balance of the magical structure of the world around was forcibly broken.

Just like in a supernova, when the mass of the entire star bounces back off its solid core, Layn's flames erupted outwards, filling every last fiber of his being with an energy that no human should ever get their hands on.