Chapter 105: The Might of Coin and Craft

Yuna was utterly shocked after hearing Merlin’s words. Is he even speaking human language? she thought in disbelief. He came here to save Stacie, and now he’s saying it’s just so she can work for him tomorrow?

The Moon’s Dark Whisperer couldn’t comprehend a single word Merlin had just said. At this moment, it was desperately siphoning Stacie’s magical power to sustain its own form. It had never imagined that its corporeal body could be so easily shattered.

Hovering in midair, the Moon’s Dark Whisperer exuded a dark aura that surged and twisted like relentless tides, wrapping around its form. It poured every ounce of its strength into absorbing Stacie’s magic, fighting to maintain its existence.

But Merlin’s wrath would not wait.

“I’ve already said it! Tomorrow’s ‘Miss Honey Time’ fan event is important! Stop sucking already!” Merlin bellowed, his voice crackling with fury. The hand crossbow in his grasp erupted with dazzling light. With a crisp twang, arrows shot forth like falling stars, each imbued with elemental destructive power, hurtling directly at the Moon’s Dark Whisperer.

Sensing the threat, the Moon’s Dark Whisperer countered with dark magic. Its form twisted violently in midair as the darkness coalesced into a massive vortex, aiming to swallow Merlin’s assault whole.

But Merlin was already prepared. With swift movements, he pulled numerous vials of magical concoctions from his spatial ring and hurled them into the air. The bottles flew at tremendous speed, arriving almost instantaneously near the Moon’s Dark Whisperer.

Boom!

The vials shattered, releasing an intense, pungent aroma that instantly filled the surrounding space. Glimmering yellow and pale green dust spread rapidly, forming a thick, fog-like cloud. The black magic the Moon’s Dark Whisperer had been summoning collapsed instantly.

A sharp, piercing scream erupted. The Moon’s Dark Whisperer hadn’t expected its dark magic to shatter so easily. Now stripped of its magical defenses, it was pummeled once again by the elemental arrows.

Rumble!

The Moon’s Dark Whisperer barely managed to reconstitute Stacie’s form, only for it to explode once more, dissolving into a thick, black, tar-like substance. Slowly, with the aid of its dark tendrils, it began to reform.

In the distance, Dilia, still entangled with the Guardian of Nature, sniffed the air and caught a familiar scent. She turned just in time to see a mist forming around the Moon’s Dark Whisperer and froze in astonishment.

“Holy crap!”

She swore involuntarily. Interference vials! She had used one against the Wind Speaker earlier.

Interference vials were magical potions designed to disrupt the flow of magical energy. As anyone could see, the fine dust from these vials could prevent a mage from completing a spell. If the magic hadn’t fully formed, the spell’s stability would be destroyed, causing it to collapse.

Even a prodigy alchemist like Dilia usually only carried one of these at a time. She had just used hers against the Wind Speaker. These vials weren’t cheap—on the black market, a single bottle could fetch eight hundred to a thousand gold coins.

Because they targeted mages, ordinary people could even use them to kill mid-level mages, and there were documented cases on the continent of fifth-tier mages being taken down by ordinary people wielding these vials.

As a result, very few alchemists would actually brew them, since producing these vials could earn a mage’s wrath and damage one’s reputation.

But secretly? Every alchemist kept at least a few on hand.

What stunned Dilia was the sheer number Merlin had produced. The thick, swirling dust had formed a true fog around the Moon’s Dark Whisperer. How many vials had it taken? Five? Eight? Ten?

Twelve.

Of course, Merlin didn’t care to answer Dilia’s unspoken question. His rage burned too fiercely. His only thought was to teach this parasitic Moon’s Dark Whisperer a lesson. His employee—Stacie—could only be exploited by him!

Without warning, Merlin produced several staffs, each inlaid with different magical crystals. He planted them into the ground before him and his fingers flew over the crystal conduits embedded within.

In an instant, the seven staffs glowed with activated magic, summoning a torrent of elemental energy around Merlin. Spells of fire, frost, and lightning collided in a chaotic dance, weaving one devastating attack after another.

“Come on! Let’s see how much you can take!” Merlin roared, flinging a dozen magical scrolls from beneath his robe. The third-tier scrolls ignited instantly, their stored spells blasting toward the Moon’s Dark Whisperer like cannonfire.

Waves of searing heat and biting cold clashed violently, tearing through the air in jagged wind blades while sparks danced in wild, erratic patterns. The assaults drove straight at the Dark Speaker’s core.

Wait… how does Merlin know the core’s location? Yuna might have asked. He didn’t. It didn’t matter. Under this relentless bombardment, the Moon’s Dark Whisperer would be hit no matter where its core lay.

Though shrouded in darkness, it couldn’t withstand Merlin’s frenzied assault. It tried to retaliate with dark magic, but the interference dust rendered it powerless—unable even to mount a counterattack. Slowly, it felt its body weakening, fear and anger boiling together.

“You wretched thing!” the Moon’s Dark Whisperer bellowed, black energy surging madly around it as it tried to regain strength. But Merlin’s attacks crashed over it like tidal waves, relentless, allowing no respite.

Yuna stared in disbelief. Merlin’s methods were brutal—far beyond a normal magical assault. To her, it wasn’t just a magical barrage; it was a financial bombardment.

Merlin was literally throwing money at the Moon’s Dark Whisperer. The vials, the scrolls, the alchemical devices—how much did all this cost?

“Still got energy to scream? Did your magic not fill you up? Here—have all you want!” Merlin’s voice rang like a war drum. Chugging a precious mana potion to replenish his reserves, he poured every ounce of power into the attack, as if the battle itself were a bottomless pit of coin.

Explosions of alchemical devices roared continuously. The Moon’s Dark Whisperer, though an incarnation of darkness with formidable magic, could do nothing but endure the storm. Each strike tore at its core, sending shockwaves of pain through its form.

“Do you think this will defeat me?” it bellowed, attempting to repel Merlin’s assault with its dark energy. But against Merlin’s monetary barrage, its counterattack was insignificant—utterly ineffective.

“Keep struggling!” Merlin sneered, retrieving a fourth-tier sealing magic vial, preparing an even deadlier attack.

Every strike he unleashed was a costly expenditure—but he didn’t care. His sole aim was to utterly crush this hateful fiend.