The old magus spat out a mouthful of blood. He looked at Aslan, his face full of incomprehension. Wasn't the island's power already suppressed on his staff? You must know, this staff, passed down through his family for generations, was made from the bones and soul of a high-level lesser dragon. In their eyes, that dragon was already considered a high-ranking dragon species. If their family hadn't discovered this dragon species when the dragon had not yet matured and directly made it into this Mystic Code, the great dragon would surely have become a famous existence in the world, leaving behind a legend—perhaps a dragon's story, perhaps a dragonslayer's story.
By their generation, although they no longer had the ability to activate the true power of this magic wand, they could still more or less rely on it to suppress and search for some existences related to dragons. With this staff, the island's power should have been obedient.
Just what kind of bloodline does this young man before me have?!
Aslan looked at the old magus's already gradually clouding eyes. He leaped forward from the stone block and arrived not far from the old magus. He opened his right hand, and the island power that had been biting the magus's neck ran over to Aslan's side like a husky. Its small dragon-like form directly stuck out its tongue and continuously licked Aslan's fingertips. If it weren't for the fact that this island power was purely composed of a force similar to magical energy, Aslan would probably have frowned and pushed its head down by now.
Aslan's eyes glowed with a golden light. In this thundering night, they appeared even brighter and more eerie. At the same time, because the island power was constantly licking Aslan's fingers, it also caused the dragon blood in Aslan's body to boil somewhat. His entire personality changed a bit towards a "fallen" direction. At least this confidence, under the blessing of this aura, seemed a bit more arrogant.
"Are you surprised? To me, this is an extremely normal thing. In fact, if things didn't develop along this path, I would find it strange. You know, those who can manipulate the island's power are all existences who can become the Lord of the Island. Of course, you are not. You just used a few small tricks to temporarily and forcibly drive the island's power.
As for why I can make the island's power submit, haven't you figured it out yet? I should have said it before. You can cause trouble anywhere you want, but you causing trouble here really pisses me off. With the Red Dragon now sleeping peacefully, the White Dragon having already fallen, and the Child of the Island wandering who knows where, next in line, I suppose I am the first in line to inherit the title of Lord of the Island, right? Although currently, neither the Child of the Island nor I have any intention of inheriting the title of Lord of the Island. However..."
Aslan looked at the old magus before him, who was using his magic wand to support his body, forcibly keeping himself from falling down. He raised his hand, and the island power formed a throne. He gently sat down, propped up his chin with his hand, and then gently pushed forward with his finger. A portion of the island power, like chains, wrapped around the old magus's magic wand and brought it into Aslan's hand.
Having lost his magic wand, the old magus knelt directly on the ground. This kneeling caused him to spit out another mouthful of blood. Looking at the magic wand in his hand, Aslan stored it in his own space, inside his Mystic Code. This was also a pretty good item. It was just a pity that the people who forged it had failed to bring out all of its abilities. He would just add the magic wand to his own collection. If he had time and opportunity in the future, he would strengthen this magic wand himself.
Aslan crossed his legs, and at the same time, gently lifted the old magus's chin with the tip of his shoe. This posture, sitting on the throne, made him look just like a great villain.
"But I hope you magi remember, even if Morgan and I temporarily have no intention of inheriting the title and status of the Lord of the Island, the throne and power of the Lord of the Island, even if it's just the remnants accidentally leaked out, are not something you can reach for."
Aslan smiled lightly. The magical energy in his body began to erupt with a powerful pressure, making the knees of the old magus kneeling on the ground feel heavier and heavier. The sound of bones cracking rang out. At the same time, under this pressure, the speed of the bleeding from the wound on the old magus's neck became faster.
As Aslan moved the tip of his shoe away, under the suppression of his magical energy, the old magus's head slammed directly onto the ground. His whole body was in a kowtowing posture before Aslan. The old magus struggled to twist his neck, looking up at Aslan. He had not misheard. From the mouth of the young man before him, he had heard the name "Morgan," and he had also heard the legendary titles of the Red Dragon and the White Dragon.
Could the one related to these three be Merlin? No... Merlin did not have dragon's blood in his body. There was one other person who had survived in the legend of King Arthur. Although the legendary white-haired girl who was always by his side, that is, the other dragon, had not appeared, it was not impossible. After all, no one had ever stipulated that the two had to appear together. In fact, the old magus hadn't noticed the pair of golden eyes in the package hanging at Aslan's waist.
"You are... Aslan Pendragon?"
How could this be? According to the legends and records, shouldn't this person have already gone to the Inner Sea of the Planet? Could it be that the records and legends were wrong?
"Curious why I'm here? If I didn't show up, how would I discover you guys causing trouble on my old dad's grave? Alright, telling you this much is already my mercy."
Aslan's lips curled into a smile. After standing up, the island power turned into the shape of a bead and came into Aslan's hand.
Looking at the old magus lying on the ground, Aslan, like a normal big boy, gently waved his hand. He then lifted his foot, aimed at the old magus's head, and then stomped down hard. After doing all this, he casually used a Faerie Letter to clean his shoe, and then turned to leave.
Arriving at the periphery of the ruins, he waved at the other magi who were waiting anxiously for him. After roughly explaining what had happened, he returned to his own... tent. As for whether the other magi would collect the old magus's body, or whether the people from the Clock Tower would find a way to retrieve the Magic Crest from his body, that was none of his business.
Anyway, whether the Clock Tower was good or fallen, it had little to do with Aslan. If the Clock Tower was truly rotten to the core, then in the future, a fated person would surely appear to change it.