The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 652 Battle Against the Ancient Mage Flugar (1)

Nolan and the Grandmaster exited the restaurant. Crowds bustled along the street, people rushing back and forth, which made it hard to pick out the individuals Nolan had mentioned.

"Where are they, Your Highness?" the Grandmaster inquired.

"Last time I spotted them, they were right over here," Nolan answered, gesturing southward.

The Grandmaster appeared doubtful yet stayed silent, heading in the direction Nolan pointed out.

Nolan trailed after him, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

Upon reaching the spot, the targets they sought had vanished. Nothing but an empty zone lingered, typically reserved for dumping restaurant trash.

"Is this the place?" the Grandmaster questioned once more, his gaze sweeping the surroundings cautiously.

The eerie quiet around them sent shivers racing down his back.

"Yes, they're here. Directly behind you!"

In a flash, Nolan surged ahead, right fist balled tight, slamming into the Grandmaster's back.

Utterly surprised, the elderly man flew through the air, smashing violently against the wall. Fissures spiderwebbed across its surface from the force.

The Grandmaster crumpled to the ground, agony piercing through him sharply.

"Pufft!"

A gush of blood erupted from his mouth, torment surging across his whole frame.

"What… what are you doing!?" he snarled, raising his head to fix a fierce glare on Nolan.

He never anticipated such a abrupt assault—and the strike packed such force that he couldn't respond in time.

Nolan shed his pretense, sauntering forward leisurely with his right hand tucked in his pocket.

"Old man, I knew you were sluggish, but didn't think you were this worthless. Protecting the Void Reaver Disc for a thousand years—did it rot your mind?" Nolan mocked.

The Grandmaster's eyes bulged in astonishment. Before words could form, Nolan pressed on, "No men in black coats ever existed. I fabricated that to draw you out. Like my trap? Satisfied?"

The Grandmaster's breathing hitched. "You… do you grasp the gravity of your error!? How dare you trick me!?"

Nolan remained unmoved. He merely regarded the elder with steady, inscrutable eyes.

From Karakh's tale, this figure was Flugar, an Ancient Mage from millennia past. He had safeguarded the Void Reaver Disc for a thousand years, waiting for its true inheritor.

In these times, Aldrian served as that successor, and Flugar was oath-bound to defend him fiercely. To approach Aldrian, Nolan needed to eliminate Flugar first.

"Fine, old man. Got any final words? None? Then I'll end you now," Nolan declared with brazen confidence.

Flugar's fury detonated. Teeth grinding, his fists balled until knuckles blanched white.

Boom!

A crimson-blue radiance burst from him, illuminating the heavens.

The once-feeble elder brimmed with vigor. He floated mid-air, gaze icy, pinning Nolan with a murderous intent.

"Nolan Lorian… how dare you shatter the alliance between our realms? You seek your doom!"

His roar echoed like thunder, rattling the earth under the capital and the restaurant.

"Is that an earthquake?"

"Looks like it. Better find cover—aftershocks might hit!"

Chaos erupted across the capital, yet Nolan—at the quake's heart—stood utterly composed, arms folded, grin relaxed.

"Bring it, old man!"

Flugar's wrath peaked. He rocketed toward Nolan at blinding velocity.

Instantly before him, fist shimmering pale blue, targeted straight at Nolan's visage.

Merely inches away, Nolan raised his hand, halting the blow dead.

Boom!

Shockwaves erupted from the clash, demolishing trash bins and collapsing the divider wall separating restaurant from street.

Flugar stiffened—his strike utterly neutralized.

Before regrouping, Nolan's left fist arced up, smashing into Flugar's jaw.

Whoosh!

Flugar rocketed skyward. Nolan braced, crouched low, then propelled himself after.

Right fist tight, he hammered into Flugar's gut.

Boom!

Flugar catapulted higher, agony wrenching groans from him. Swiftly, he clamped a hand over the injury, faint green glow easing the torment gradually.

Flugar then charged ahead, form crackling with azure energy, crashing into Nolan.

The collision unleashed a colossal blast, blazing across Altheris' night sky.

…

"What's going on? An earthquake maybe?" Aldrian muttered, voice laced with anxiety.

He eyed the quaking floor, then the wine trembling in his cup.

The familiar inner voice stayed silent this time, deepening his bewilderment.

"What's wrong?" Seira's voice pulled him back.

Aldrian shook his head. "Did you sense the ground moving?"

Seira nodded steadily. "Yes, slightly. Likely a small tremor. No cause for alarm."

Her voice remained tranquil, untouched by the shake.

Aldrian mustered an awkward grin. If Seira stayed unfazed, he couldn't seem timid.

"You're right," he replied, pretending calm while sipping his wine.

He sneaked a cunning peek at Seira's glass, smirking inwardly.

'The potion activates in fifteen minutes. Tonight, my sweet Seira… you'll belong to me… hehehe…'

…

"Nolan's taking forever… where did he go?" Alina murmured, staring nervously out the window.

Five minutes elapsed, no sign of Nolan. Odd—he wouldn't linger so long in the restroom.

As she nearly summoned a waiter to investigate, the floor lurched violently. The shaking intensified rapidly.

"An earthquake!?" Her eyes flew wide, leaping up in terror.

Alina dreaded quakes, worse in an enclosed space like this. Delay could spell disaster.

Yet fleeing meant abandoning Nolan.

Caught between fear and concern for him, she chose the latter.

"If it doesn't worsen, I'll remain," she breathed, steeling her nerves.

Unaware to her, the one she fretted over clashed brutally with Ancient Mage Flugar, soaring above the capital's horizon…