Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King

Fortunately for Wolfe, there was no need to actually do Rank Seven damage to the target in order to break through their defences. Instead, you could do it by brute force, the same way that the Fallen Army had taught the world of mages to break into Wolfe's world. Thousands, or tens of thousands of smaller attacks, all at once.

That was going to stretch Wolfe's ability at mana control to the limits, but he was fairly certain that he could get enough smaller spells focused together to emulate a single spell near his maximum output.

The Pit Daemon was durable, but not a strong magic user, and it wasn't even using defensive magic yet, as if it didn't think that it needed it.

Or perhaps it couldn't use it at all, and it was just physically strong. It was even flying with its own wings, and not as the Succubi did, by using magic to supplement them.

As the Pit Daemon flailed impotently at the shield that Wolfe had erected around it, Wolfe got to work on the spell that he hoped would be able to eliminate it. One or two hits of Nether Lightning wouldn't get through its durability, which was unaffected by the restriction in its combat power.

So, he was going to have to add a lot of them. A thousand fingers of death. Also known as one thousand Rank Five Nether Lightning Bolts stacked together to make one incredibly impressive blast.

It would take the majority of his stored mana, but for the basic sense of grandeur, it should be enough to convince anything else that saw it that they did not want to fight with Wolfe and his witches.

The witches were doing well enough down below, with their magic supplementing the skeletal army in their push forward toward the portal.

The regeneration of the witch magic was keeping the skeletons intact, no matter how much damage was done to them by their opponents, and the requirements weren't so severe that the witches were going to be tired any time soon.

Part of that was because they were mostly using Wolfe's mana, which was going to have to pause for a moment as he dealt with the Pit Daemon, but once that was finished, it should all be smooth sailing.

Layer upon layer, the lightning array stacked up, while both his opponents, and the announcers that he could sense in the distance, became more concerned. This wasn't a sort of magic that they were familiar with, and the way that Wolfe was using it couldn't be right.

Conventional wisdom said that when you were casting a spell, that was it. You were occupied casting a spell. You didn't cast a thousand separate ones at the same time to hit a thousand targets, you cast one grand magic to hit a thousand targets.

But they could see that wasn't what Wolfe was doing, and the experience was not a pleasant one.

But it was only when the air began to tremble with magic, after Wolfe had imbued four of his mana cores worth of energy into the forming array, that anyone grasped just how insane the effect was about to be.

"No! This must not happen." The overlord of this place insisted, before a barrier appeared over Wolfe, just as the spell discharged.

The interior of the barrier lit up with Unholy Magic and lightning, glowing with a vibrant blue light that blinded all who saw it.

The pain from the light went beyond the physical, searing at their souls and tearing at their minds. The pain that the Overlord suffered was the first it had ever experienced. The resonance of its agony spread through the realm, empowering the lesser beings, and causing wide scale upheaval as they began to challenge others for rank.

The challenges spread more suffering and frustration through its domain, and the Divine One of the Lower Planes began to realize that it had made a grave mistake.

Wolfe was not out of mana, he was gathering more and rebuilding the spell, intent on breaking out of this barrier the same way that he had intended to defeat the Pit Daemon. With massed attacks.

But the creature wasn't willing to take another one of those accursed strikes. The fact that the damage could still affect him through his spells, and that painful light, was too much. The entire domain would be thrown into chaos if that continued, and one of his rivals would surely capitalize on the situation to try to claim part of his domain.

Or worse, they might try to recruit this Magi on to their side, and use him as a weapon against the rest of the Lower Planes.

"Retreat." He ordered his troops.

One simple word, and they scattered. The defences vanished into the distance, or underground, in seconds, leaving Wolfe and the witches standing alone in the tunnels, which now echoed with the sound of running feet.

"What did you do? My eyes still hurt from the bright." Molly asked.

"Multiple Nether Lightning Arrays. Sorry about the brightness, I wasn't expecting outside interference, and the light should have been directional, and not brightening the area like a blue star." Wolfe explained.

Stephanie looked around, then sniffed at the air.

"I think that it made everything retreat. The air smells different, not like them and their magic anymore. Let's go to the portal before it changes its mind and finds another way to attack us." She suggested.

"That's the best idea that I've heard all day. To the portal, it is time to go home!" Molly cheered.

With Stephanie's hand in hers, Molly began to run down the tunnel, before the older two witches caught them.

"Calm down, we don't know if they left any traps behind, so don't just go running through the tunnels without looking." Cassie reprimanded them.

It was a bit like watching a mother corral her children, and despite the fact that Stephanie really was a witch the same age as the others, and not actually a small child or a cat, Wolfe found himself smiling at the very domestic scene in such an outlandish setting.