Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

“Well, well… over a hundred of you bullying just four youngsters, is that what I’m seeing here?”

“Brothers! What does the kingdom’s law say again? Ganging up on the weak is immoral, shameful, utterly depraved—it offends both gods and men!”

“Follow me—KILL!”

With a thunderous roar from their commander, the allied forces of the church and the royal family surged into Lioncrest Academy’s main hall. They didn’t waste a single breath on words—everyone they saw, they struck down.

Yet curiously, as they passed Francis and the others, it was as if they had all gone blind. None of their attacks ever touched Alan’s group, not even by accident.

In just moments, nearly half of the Lioncrest students had fallen. The allied force numbered about fifty—plenty to take down one opponent each with ease.

Seeing the tide turn, Alan knew he no longer needed to worry about his companions. Clenching his fists, he turned his full attention to the battle in front of him.

Kelin, having taken a vicious blow from Alan at the start, was now in no shape to fight. He cowered behind the four white-robed, diamond-tier mages, barking commands from the rear.

Yet even so, those four were a formidable wall. Alan had tried multiple times to break through, only for his attacks to be neutralized by some strange coordination. It was as if the four could share senses—and more alarmingly, share and distribute damage evenly among themselves.

That made things tricky.

Alan considered the situation as though calculating numbers: say his attack output was around 100. Normally, that would be enough to seriously injure a single diamond-tier mage.

But now, any attack he landed was split into four equal parts—25 damage to each of them. No wonder he couldn’t break through.

“Heh heh… Alan, surprised?” Kelin sneered. “Did you really think Stephen’s personally trained academy guard was just for show?”

“Yes, they’re all diamond-tier mages individually—but when they act together, even a Legendary mage would hesitate to face them. Not only do they split incoming damage, they also amplify outgoing damage—four times, to be exact!”

“Guard unit—commence counterattack!”

At Kelin’s command, the muscles beneath the guards’ white robes suddenly bulged, revealing their true nature—they were close-combat mages who controlled mana from within.

Shhhhing!

Four gleaming elemental blades materialized in their hands, each one a different color, each infused with a different element.

These blades operated on a principle similar to Alan’s Elemental Sword—but far less pure in composition.

Still, Alan wasn’t one to back down. He summoned his own Elemental Sword and met them head-on.

Element clashed against element. Each collision sent mana shockwaves tearing through the hall and beyond, shaking the very foundation of the academy.

Soon, Alan, caught at the epicenter of the storm, began to feel the pressure.

His attacks were being reduced to a quarter of their strength. Meanwhile, his four enemies each dealt blows amplified by fourfold strength. That meant, combined, their attacks were hitting him with the force of sixteen.

That was already in the realm of a Legendary mage’s power.

Alan realized he couldn’t let this go on. If things continued at this rate, he would be worn down and lose for sure.

“Back off!”

With a final push, he forced one of the white-robed guards to retreat, finally carving out a moment of breathing room.

He didn’t waste it. Pulling out Lumen Sancta, he prepared to unleash the new technique taught to him by the flame-haired woman from the church not long ago—Judgement of Soul.

Unlike his other abilities, this one wasn’t mana-based. It was fueled by spiritual force—an attack that was nearly impossible to guard against.

And while these four mages might be able to split physical damage, Alan didn’t believe for a second they could share spiritual agony.

Clink…

As his emotions surged, the blade of Lumen Sancta began to glow brighter and brighter. From behind him, translucent chains emerged and shot forward, wrapping themselves tightly around the necks of the four white-robed mages.

“Die!”

Alan slashed Lumen Sancta downward, unleashing a surge of invisible, soul-tearing energy.

BOOM!

A burst of strange, silent force erupted.

But then… nothing.

The four white-robed mages stood completely unaffected. Their movements didn’t even slow down. They were entirely unfazed.

Alan shut his eyes, expanded his senses, and finally understood.

They weren’t alive.

They weren’t even people.

These so-called guards weren’t human beings at all—they were reanimated corpses crafted by Stephen himself.

It made sense. No matter how well-trained, no two people could coordinate perfectly, let alone four.

To solve that, Stephen had used some dark ritual to destroy their souls, turning them into literal undead machines—mindless puppets that could follow orders without hesitation or fear.

“No wonder that old man didn’t show up to fight me himself… He needs to command these things. He can’t possibly battle and direct them at the same time.”

“Hey! What are you spacing out for? Dodge!!”

Francis’s voice suddenly snapped Alan back to reality. One of the white-robed mages had circled behind him, blade raised for a lethal strike.

Alan had no time to dodge. At the last second, a heavy force pressed him downward, forcing him to duck just as a gray-black arm whistled past his nose, missing him by a hair.

Francis appeared beside him and dismissed the gravity field he had thrown over Alan. “Bro! You okay? You can’t be zoning out in the middle of a fight!”

“I—”

Alan was about to answer, but then he saw it—another white-robed figure slowly rising behind Francis, blade at the ready.

With a shout, Alan shoved Francis away and used the recoil to leap backward.

But that was exactly what Kelin had planned.

Both Alan and Francis, thrown off balance, stumbled backward—right into two waiting white-robed mages, each with elemental blades poised to strike.

They had been lying in wait, ready to skewer them the moment they fell into the trap.

“Don’t even think—”

“—about touching my family!”

Two figures arrived just in time, slamming into the waiting enemies and sending them flying.

Fort cracked his knuckles with a grin. “Alan, I’ve discovered something awesome—the moment I get hit, these Thorned Bracers auto-counter for me. This thing is amazing!”

Meanwhile, Blanche stood at his side, a holy staff in each hand. She swung them like twin blades, their golden trails sharp as sword flashes.

Her flurry of strikes forced her opponent back step by step.

Kelin’s jaw dropped.

Just minutes ago, wasn’t that girl casting healing spells? Why was her attack speed now rivaling that of a trained assassin?

Was this… really what a support mage was supposed to look like?

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