Chapter 90: Epic Inhale (Request Subscription!)

The “Royal Magic Palace Rose,” enveloped in vast amounts of stellar magic, shot forth—also receiving treatment it never deserved, its basic attack treated as a ultimate skill.

Yet this "Royal Magic Palace Rose" truly had the qualification: a single rose, saturated with Mo En's immense magic, remained perfectly intact—something not even the finest magic crystal could achieve.

The darkness magic spreading through the banquet hall clashed repeatedly with Macao’s magic array, exploding like fireworks in every color; amid this sky-full of detonations, the “Royal Magic Palace Rose” surged forward and pierced straight toward Joseph Bola’s chest.

“Zzzzzz!!!”

The piercing sound resembled some beast roaring in fury; by the time Joseph Bola, still rejoicing, noticed it, the “Royal Magic Palace Rose” had already cut through the exploding magic and reached point-blank range—his eyes snapped wide with shock.

At this moment, Joseph Bola could have forcibly dodged—it wasn’t impossible; he specialized in short-range teleportation magic, and even if caught off guard, activating it wouldn’t necessarily injure him—but he knew he couldn’t dodge.

This move was launched by the old dog’s grandson; if he dodged, he’d surely be mocked into the ground by that old dog.

Not only must he not dodge—he must dispel it effortlessly!

Joseph Bola still had confidence in this; the boy was indeed a genius, possessing such power at such a young age—given time, becoming one of the “Ten Saint Mage Masters” would be no challenge.

But right now, before him, such power was utterly insufficient.

“Boom!!!”

Joseph Bola unleashed terrifying purple-black magic, extending his hand to grasp the incoming magic orb—he could sense something inside it.

How could he demonstrate his ease? By catching that thing and hurling it right back to injure the boy!

Joseph Bola’s plan was perfect, and he executed it exactly: his foul-smelling magic surged forth, slamming into the magic orb surrounding the “Royal Magic Palace Rose,” producing a violent explosion—the collision of two terrifying forces.

Though Mo En’s magic exceeded Joseph Bola’s expectations, he still shattered the outer magic layer without serious harm, successfully grabbing the object within.

It was a red rose—Joseph Bola was utterly astonished.

‘What kind of rose is this? How can it withstand such immense magic?’

Holding the rose, Joseph Bola retracted his hand, staring at it in disbelief—it seemed no different at all. He couldn’t resist showing off, bringing the rose to his nose and inhaling deeply.

‘The scent doesn’t seem off either.’

After a deep breath, Joseph Bola thought to himself.

“Puff~”

Seeing this, Mo En couldn’t hold back—he burst out laughing.

“What are Itachi laughing at? That move didn’t work! Obviously, it’s too much to ask of Itachi to land a hit on someone like Joseph Bola.”

Seeing Mo En laugh hysterically after his move was neutralized, Macao was utterly baffled.

He could see Joseph Bola had exerted considerable effort to dispel the attack—not nearly as effortless as he appeared—and he was already deeply satisfied with Mo En’s performance.

Joseph Bola was one of the “Ten Saint Mage Masters,” famed for his overwhelming magic, a walking artillery platform; neutralizing Mo En’s magic-stacking technique was perfectly natural—perfectly suited to his specialty.

“No, I just...”

Mo En suppressed his laughter, trying to explain—Joseph Bola had hit his exact comedic beat. Sniffing the “Royal Magic Palace Rose” was a classic case of overconfidence backfiring.

Mo En never expected to blow Joseph Bola away with magic—he only hoped the “Royal Magic Palace Rose” would lend him a helping hand. But now, with Joseph Bola’s epic inhale, it was no longer just about getting a little assist.

Looking at Joseph Bola, Mo En figured it was about time the effect kicked in.

“Don’t feel discouraged. Give Itachi ten years—no, five—and Itachi might just knock him down.”

Seeing Mo En fall silent after laughing, staring fixedly at Joseph Bola, Macao assumed he’d been deeply shaken and offered reassurance—though not entirely empty comfort.

Macao genuinely believed Mo En surpassing Joseph Bola was merely a matter of time—and not much time at that.

“Grandpa, look at him.”

Mo En didn’t argue—he gestured for Macao to look at Joseph Bola.

“Huh?”

Macao immediately turned to Joseph Bola—and his eyes widened. Joseph Bola stood frozen, motionless, still clutching the vivid red rose in his hand.

“Star Rose—a poisonous rose. A slight prick from its thorn or inhalation of its pollen causes loss of all five senses, rapid bodily decay, and a painless, gradual death. It seems Joseph Bola just took a very deep breath.”

Mo En spoke, having renamed the “Royal Magic Palace Rose.” The original name sounded odd—too grandiose, hard to explain—he now publicly called it Star Rose.

“Huh?”

Upon hearing Mo En’s explanation, Macao’s eyes widened even further.

“Where did this Star Rose come from?”

Macao stared at Mo En, swallowing hard—how had he never encountered such a ruthless rose before?

“It’s from my Celestial Spirit Magic.”

Mo En replied. Celestial Spirit Magic was a black box—he could throw anything into it. This answer was also a clever dodge: no one could confirm whether he still had more “Royal Magic Palace Roses.” This was “Rose Deterrence.”

“Your Celestial Spirit Magic... sure has a lot of tricks.”

Macao couldn’t help but whistle. He’d underestimated Mo En—this kid’s surprises were endless!

“Boom!”

At that moment, Joseph Bola finally reacted—he surged magic through his hand, utterly crushing the Star Rose into nothingness, leaving not even a speck of ash.

“My five senses are fading...”

Joseph Bola realized he’d been poisoned. Though the toxin acted slowly, it was ruthlessly potent—its first target was his five senses. He already felt them deteriorating.

He immediately channeled magic through his body, circulating it to halt the toxin’s spread. Magic and life force were intrinsically linked; such internal resistance could indeed counter foreign invaders—otherwise, mages wouldn’t live so long or suffer so few illnesses.

“What’s wrong with Joseph? Why is he standing still?”

“Did that kid’s move stun Joseph?”

“Was that rose the kid threw? Why throw a rose? What weird technique is that?”

“That must be some magical artifact—ordinary roses couldn’t withstand that much magic! Has Joseph Bola been hit?”

Joseph Bola’s sudden stillness naturally sparked chatter. The guild masters, with their sharp eyes and experience, instantly sensed something was wrong—and their guesses were surprisingly close.

“...”

Joseph Bola gritted his teeth but dared not move—he was fully focused on fighting the toxin inside him. At this moment, he wished his hearing would vanish first.

“Joseph, Itachi’re feeling pretty awful right now, aren’t Itachi?”

When Macao’s smug voice reached his ears, Joseph Bola’s desire to lose his hearing intensified.

“Who would’ve thought? The great Saint Mage Master, president of Phantom Lord, Joseph Bola—thirty-something, in his prime—has been taken down by a child barely ten years old. Tsk, tsk, tsk~”

Though Joseph Bola clenched his lips shut, Macao wouldn’t miss this golden chance to mock him—he circled Joseph Bola, clucking his tongue, spouting biting sarcasm.

Mo En could see Joseph Bola’s body trembling—clearly furious.

“President Joseph, don’t get agitated. Emotion will accelerate toxin spread. Itachi don’t want to become a useless shell, deprived of all senses, do Itachi? Worse symptoms will follow—if Itachi don’t resist the toxin properly, Itachi’ll die.”

Seeing Joseph Bola’s agitation, Mo En kindly warned him. It worked instantly—Joseph Bola’s trembling ceased. Clearly, the man still knew fear.

“Kid, can’t Itachi help our President Joseph? We’re all comrades. Itachi went a bit too far.”

Macao continued in his smug tone. By now, everyone had gathered, staring at Mo En in shock.

They never imagined Mo En had actually subdued Joseph! Joseph Bola was a Saint Mage Master!

Sure, the whole process was hard to believe—but tell me, was he subdued or not?!

This kid’s barely twelve or thirteen!

(End of Chapter)