The Convergence of All Magics

"The Nomad Bandits?" Kael's eyes narrowed as he turned to Jett, his gaze probing.

Jett exhaled nervously. "Yes, Lord Earl—it's them. The Nomad Bandits! They've been terrorizing the Lafei Plains for years..."

So this was the infamous group.

Kael's expression hardened, his focus sharpening on the growing commotion ahead. A cold glint flickered in his eyes.

Jett studied Kael with growing unease. He'd expected this pampered noble to pale at the mere mention of the bandits—yet instead of fear, the young earl radiated something far more unsettling: killing intent.

That's right—killing intent.

This boy, barely twenty, stood composed, his gaze steady and calculating. There was no trace of youthful hesitation, only the poised menace of a seasoned predator.

Could the Council have actually sent someone capable? Jett's skepticism wavered. Kael's age still gave him pause, but that aura was undeniable.

The ground trembled as hundreds of riders stormed into view through the downpour.

From the shadowed horizon, the cavalry advanced—each warrior mounted on a Frosthorn Steed, a fifth-tier magical beast, their obsidian armor gleaming despite the rain. Their formation was flawless, their discipline terrifying. This was no ragtag mob, but a professional fighting force.

Kael's lips thinned.

No wonder these bandits thrive here. With resources like this, their status as one of the Three Plagues made grim sense. Just the Frosthorn Steeds alone—each worth over 10,000 gold—spoke volumes.

Taming magical beasts was notoriously difficult. Though Frosthorns were relatively docile, their wild instincts remained formidable. Acquiring even one required deep coffers and expertise.

A unit like this would rank among the elite even in the martial Guyi Empire—their gear and training surpassing most imperial regiments. Only the empire's finest could rival them.

Kael couldn't help but sigh inwardly. No wonder the Lafei Plains garrison is helpless against these bandits—they're a force to be reckoned with.

"My lord, we must retreat! If they get any closer, escape will be impossible!" Jett's voice sharpened as he spotted the bandit leader. Panic laced his words.

The brigands seemed preoccupied—likely fleeing after raiding a merchant convoy—and hadn't yet noticed Kael's group. Their haste worked in their favor... for now.

"Retreat? Since when do soldiers flee from bandits?" Kael's gaze swept the scene, his lips quirking in silent mockery.

Jett stiffened, his stomach sinking. This spoiled brat really is delusional. Does he actually think we can fight hundreds of outlaws with a few dozen green recruits? A glance at his ragtag unit confirmed the inevitable outcome: slaughter.

"Lord Earl, those mounts are fifth-tier Frosthorn Steeds! Every rider is at least fifth-tier themselves, and their leader—Amir—is one of the band's three vice-captains, a peak seventh-tier warrior!" As the distance closed, Jett's urgency spiked. Though the brigands weren't targeting them yet, discovery was moments away.

Damn this foolhardy noble! If he wants to die, fine—but I won't be dragged down with him!

"A vice-captain, you say?" Kael's focus sharpened.

"Yes! Their chieftain is at the peak of the eighth tier, and Amir, though the weakest of the three, is on the verge of breaking through himself! We. Must. Go!" Jett nearly growled the last words, desperation bleeding through.

Kael merely nodded, unfazed.

Then—shouts erupted. The bandits had spotted them.

Though too distant to discern their words, their intent was clear as they wheeled their steeds toward Kael's group.

"Damn it all! They've seen us!" Jett barked, stepping protectively in front of Kael. "Escort the earl to safety! Ten men—with me! We'll hold them off!"

For all his private disdain, duty compelled Jett to stand his ground.

Kael noted this with approval. Loyalty, at least, isn't lacking—even if it's to the Council, not me.

"Amelia, let's handle this together," Kael said with a casual smile.

Amelia nodded and stepped forward.

Jett moved to intervene—until her Frost Battle Qi erupted. The sheer force of it sent a visceral chill down his spine, his skin prickling with goosebumps.

"Peak seventh-tier warrior! You're a peak seventh-tier warrior!" he blurted, his voice cracking. His own seventh-tier cultivation allowed him to recognize the truth instantly: this stunning young woman was no ornament, but a combat prodigy.

By the gods—a peak seventh-tier at her age? Jett's mind reeled. Such talent was unheard of outside legends.

But what truly staggered him was the quality of her battle qi. Its purity surpassed even some eighth-tier warriors he'd encountered. She's not just strong—she's on the cusp of a breakthrough.

If the woman was a peak seventh-tier, then the young earl…

Kael stepped forward. His calm demeanor gave way as crackling violet lightning coiled around his body. The air itself warped under the pressure of his Domain, mana resonating in visible ripples.

"This…" Jett's jaw slackened. A Domain. And thunderforce! Though Kael's cultivation was also at the seventh-tier peak, the implications were staggering.

No wonder the Council appointed him. This boy hadn't just mastered a Domain—he wielded legendary lightning energy.

Monstrous. Absolutely monstrous.

"Amelia, leave none alive," Kael commanded.

Amelia nodded, her silhouette flashing forward as Kael mirrored her movement. In an instant, they vanished—only to reappear as two streaks of light arcing toward the bandit horde.

"Ambush! Defensive formations!" The bandit leader's sharp eyes caught their approach. Though his expression tightened, he barked orders without panic.

His men reacted with drilled precision. Weapons drawn, they spurred their Frosthorn Steeds into a flanking maneuver, attempting to encircle Kael and Amelia.

Kael couldn't help but marvel. These aren't bandits—they're soldiers. Compared to Jett's ragtag unit, this was a professional army.

Had he such troops under his command, he'd count it a blessing. The realization only deepened his curiosity about the Nomad Bandits' mysterious leader.

But curiosity didn't stay his hand.

"Lightning's Wrath."

Thunder detonated. Violet electricity lashed out like whips, reducing a dozen bandits to charred husks before they could blink. Acrid smoke curled from their smoldering corpses.