The Legendary Mage novel Chapter 290

The top five Protégés born from The Clash of Eight Orders were said to represent the strongest new generation of the Northlands, and they were keen to challenge and learn from them.

"I’m but a Protégé still in training," Alavin said with a smile, shaking his head.

Marak jeered, "Alavin, do you even know fear? Weren't you always cocky and proud? Now, you’re too scared to even join the fray?"

The Citadel Protégés were slightly disappointed; this didn't match the rumors they had heard.

Alavin just smiled and shook his head without a word.

A young man spoke in a tepid voice, "Could it be that Lord Alavin looks down upon us?"

"Far from it, my good sirs. I beg of you, spare me," Alavin replied, shaking his head repeatedly.

"Where has the fearless Alavin gone? Are you truly afraid, or do you simply disdain us? They are the Inner Protégés of the Blessed Citadel, worthy adversaries for you," Marak pressed, refusing to let Alavin off the hook. He had brought the Citadel Protégés to Stormcast to deflate Alavin's renown and to crush him thoroughly.

"I am indeed afraid. Not of you, but for the well-being of my townsfolk."

"What do you mean? Speak plainly, Lord Alavin."

"You hail from the royal Blessed Citadel. This is but a humble town in the Northlands. You are exalted Citadel Protégés, and I am merely a modest town lord. My fear is... if I should injure one of you, you could bear it, but if the injury were severe, crippling one of you, this small town would not withstand your wrath."

All the Protégés of the Blessed Citadel laughed, and the three elders in front slightly raised their eyes. To cripple an Inner Protégé of the Blessed Citadel? Such audacity! He might win against one or two, and they may concede, but could Alavin really cripple them? Are you mocking the Blessed Citadel?

A formidable Protégé bellowed, “Worry not! We do not harm the innocent! But there is a condition. In the Capital, there is a new trend for duels of skill – that requires one to place a wager. It stirs the passion, making the contest all the more thrilling. Do you dare to take part, Lord Alavin?"

"What could I possibly have that could interest Citadel Protégés?"

"Your title! The name bestowed upon you by the Eight Orders, Shadowlord's Messenger. If you lose, you must publicly renounce the name of the Shadowlord's Messenger," the mighty Protégé stated. His terms were met with approval from the others. They weren't here for mere sport. They seldom traveled to the Northlands. Not only were they investigating Atlantis, but they also wished to spread the influence of the Blessed Citadel by defeating one of the ‘Top Five' of The Clash of Eight Orders.