In the next moment, the ground suddenly collapsed.
Black sludge churned up from the soil.
Several vines shot out of the sludge like snakes, instantly entangling the fire raven.
The fire raven let out a shrill cry and exploded violently.
The flames burned through the vines and illuminated another hidden runic stone nearby.
Matthew’s eyes flickered slightly.
The grey-robed apprentice used traps to delay.
The crimson-robed apprentice used fire ravens to probe.
This back-and-forth seemed simple, but it was far more valuable than a direct confrontation.
If the crimson-robed apprentice had rushed in blindly, even with superior strength, he might have been bogged down by the sludge and vines for a split second.
And in a battle between wizard apprentices, a single moment was enough to change everything.
But the crimson-robed apprentice took no risks.
He would rather be slow and eliminate unknown traps first.
This was experience.
Matthew made a mental note.
A true battle wasn't about who charged faster or who was braver.
Reducing unknown risks was a part of one's strength.
The crimson-robed apprentice began his counterattack.
He didn't immediately use high-power fire spells. Instead, he fired several Acid Arrows in succession.
The first Acid Arrow shot directly at the grey-robed apprentice.
The grey-robed apprentice raised a greyish-white bone shield.
The acid struck the bone shield, immediately producing pungent white smoke and corroding black indentations into the surface.
The second Acid Arrow, however, struck the ground to the grey-robed apprentice's left.
The ground was corroded into a black pit.
The grey-robed apprentice had originally intended to retreat using the trees on the left, but his footsteps were forced to a halt.
The third Acid Arrow hit the tree trunk behind him.
The acid exploded, causing the bark to rot and peel away rapidly. White smoke billowed, sealing off the route that could have provided cover.
Matthew’s gaze darkened.
The crimson-robed apprentice wasn't just attacking.
He was zoning his opponent.
He was using spells to manipulate the directions his opponent could take.
This was more terrifying than a direct hit.
A direct hit would certainly cause damage.
But zoning forced the opponent to walk step-by-step into a prepared situation.
When a person’s retreat was constantly cut off, their choices became fewer and fewer.
With fewer choices, their movements became easier to predict.
Being predictable meant they wouldn't be able to dodge when the true killing blow arrived.
Matthew couldn't help but think of himself.
What could Energy Missile do?
Attack.
Fast attacks.
Sustained attacks.
But could it block a path?
Could it restrict an opponent’s movement?
Could it force them into a desired position?
It could do some of those things.
But it was far from enough.
His current spell system was too thin.
It was so limited that if he encountered an opponent who could control the rhythm like this, he would likely be forced to react defensively.
This feeling made Matthew’s heart tighten slightly.
It wasn't fear.
It was a clear realization of his own deficiencies.
The grey-robed apprentice was forced step-by-step toward a patch of rocky ground.
The trees there were sparse, and the ground was open.
For someone who specialized in traps, concealment, and delay, that was not a good place.
The crimson-robed apprentice had clearly forced him there on purpose.
Just as the crimson-robed apprentice approached slowly, the grey-robed apprentice suddenly stopped.
He crushed a black crystal.
A cold mist instantly exploded.
White mist spread out, swallowing the rocky ground in the blink of an eye. Frost quickly formed on the blades of grass, and even the surfaces of several exposed stones showed white ice patterns.
Ordinary people could no longer see what was happening inside.
The drivers and guards in the camp only saw a cloud of white mist swallow the two figures.
Someone instinctively took half a step back.
Aidan couldn't see clearly either.
He could only vaguely see shadows flickering in the mist, like two ghosts fighting silently.
But through his Spirit, Matthew vaguely captured the movement trajectories of the two mana sources.
The grey-robed apprentice wasn't simply running away.
He was counterattacking.
From within the cold mist, a greyish-white bone spike suddenly shot out, aiming straight for the crimson-robed apprentice’s head.
This strike was extremely insidious.
Fast, accurate, and ruthless.
Using the cold mist to obscure vision, then using the bone spike for a flanking kill.
If the crimson-robed apprentice hadn't been prepared, even as a suspected Third-Grade Apprentice, he might have been heavily injured by this strike.
But at the moment the bone spike was about to hit, a dark red fire ring lit up around the crimson-robed apprentice.
That fire ring wasn't a temporary release.
It had existed all along.
It had simply been hidden around his body and not fully revealed until now.
The bone spike hit the fire ring and was instantly shattered by the flames.
Immediately after, the crimson-robed apprentice raised his hand.
A black flame chain pierced through the cold mist, accurately entangling one of the grey-robed apprentice’s arms.
The grey-robed apprentice let out a muffled groan.
Half of his sleeve was ignited by the black fire.
But he didn't hesitate.
Almost at the same moment the black flame chain entangled him, he swung his hand to cut off the burning sleeve and threw out his last smoke rune.
Smoke exploded.
His figure used the smoke to dash into the depths of the woods.
The crimson-robed apprentice didn't pursue immediately.
He stood in place, first letting the fire raven fly in a circle around the area to confirm there were no new runic traps before slowly pursuing into the woods.
The two figures soon disappeared.
The magic fluctuations gradually faded away.
The camp remained quiet.
It was so quiet that only the sound of wind through the grass and the suppressed, uneasy snorting of the horses could be heard.
After a long while, a driver asked in a low voice, “Are... are they gone?”
No one answered.
Because no one could be sure.
The Brass Rank guard didn't relax either.
He looked at Matthew’s carriage.
Matthew remained sitting in the cabin, his finger lightly resting on the window ledge.
He didn't get out.
He didn't release any spells.
He didn't make any extra movements.
But his heart was not without waves.
Loot.
This word had flashed through his mind.
Two wizard apprentices fighting—they were bound to have things on them.
Magic stones.
Materials.
Spell notes.
Magic items.
There might even be some secret that triggered this pursuit.
If one of them died in the woods, there might be a high-value harvest left behind.
For Matthew, such temptation was not entirely nonexistent.
He lacked spells.
He lacked materials.
He lacked higher-level knowledge.
Anything left behind by a wizard apprentice could potentially help him.
But as soon as that thought arose, he suppressed it.
He couldn't go.
He didn't know their identities.
He didn't know why they were fighting.
He didn't know if there was a third person hiding nearby.
He didn't know if the crimson-robed apprentice had discovered the caravan.
And he didn't know if the grey-robed apprentice's escape direction was a deliberately set bait.
Moreover, he currently had a large number of magic stones and a storage ring on him.
The last thing he should do was expose himself to strange wizard apprentices for uncertain gains.
Trouble that didn't belong to him wasn't necessarily worth reaching out for, even if there might be benefits hidden inside.
Especially when he wasn't strong enough yet.
Matthew let out a soft breath.
He liked harvests.
But he preferred to be alive to collect them.
The two were not in conflict.
The prerequisite was not to be greedy for the wrong things.
The Brass Rank guard rode his horse to the side of the carriage and asked in a low voice, “Lord Matthew, should we... send someone to take a look over there?”
As soon as these words left his mouth, he actually felt a bit of regret.
Send someone to look?
Send whom?
If ordinary guards went in and there was residual danger, they probably wouldn't even know how they died.
But as the guard captain, he couldn't just ask nothing.
Matthew glanced at him.
“Don't go in.”
The Brass Rank guard immediately nodded.
Matthew closed his eyes and sensed for a moment.
The two magic fluctuations had already moved far away.
But moving far away didn't mean safety.
“Wait for fifteen minutes.”
He said.
“During this time, no one is to approach the woods.”
The Brass Rank guard replied, “Understood.”
The caravan manager stood not far away, and upon hearing this, he hurriedly nodded along.
“Yes, yes, don't approach. Listen to Lord Matthew.”
The way he looked at Matthew now was different from before.
Previously, it was polite.
Now, there was a trace of inexplicable wariness.
He didn't know who Matthew really was.
But he knew that this young guest was even more extraordinary than he had imagined.
Fifteen minutes became exceptionally long.
The campfire was kept very low.
The guards didn't dare to speak.
The drivers didn't dare to move.
Several horses still snorted from time to time, as if the residual aura in the distance had not yet completely dissipated.
Night slowly descended.
There were no new flashes of fire in the woods.
No footsteps.
No screams.
Only the occasional sound of charred wood snapping—a sharp crack as a burnt branch finally gave way under its own weight.
After fifteen minutes, Matthew spoke again.
“Do not enter the woods tonight.”
The Brass Rank guard immediately nodded.
Matthew continued, “Move the camp twenty paces toward the main road.”
“Double the night watch.”
“Don't keep the fires too bright.”
“Keep the horses in the inner circle.”
These words were simple.
No explanation.
No discussion.
But neither the Brass Rank guard nor the caravan manager objected.
“Do it!”
The Brass Rank guard immediately turned and gave the order.
The camp began to be rearranged.
The wagons were moved further toward the main road.
The horses were gathered in the inner circle.
The number of patrolling guards was increased.
The tents that were being set up were also adjusted to stay away from the side near the woods.
While moving things, several drivers couldn't help but keep looking toward the woods.
Traces of the battle could still be seen in the distance.
Several tree trunks were charred and still smoking.
There was a patch of white frost at the edge of the woods that hadn't melted for a long time.
The ground corroded by acid showed an eerie blackness.
There were still a few dark red sparks in the grass, slowly dying out in the night wind.
The smell of charred wood, acid rot, and an indescribable pungent scent drifted through the air.
No one in the caravan was willing to go near there.
Even the guards only stole a distant glance before immediately looking away.
Aidan stood by Matthew’s carriage, his face very grim.
He looked at the woods and the traces altered by magic, feeling a strong sense of powerlessness in his heart.
He was a Black Iron Rank Class holder.
To his former self, this was already a huge improvement.
In the countryside, being at the Black Iron Rank was enough to make many people envious.
But the battle just now made him realize one thing.
The Black Iron Rank was truly too weak.
In that kind of magical confrontation, he didn't even have the qualification to intervene.
It wasn't that he was cowardly.
It was that he truly couldn't get close.
The fire would burn him to death.
The acid mist would corrode him.
The cold mist would obscure his vision.
He didn't even know how to block the bone spikes and black flame chains.
This realization made Aidan feel terrible, but it also made him more level-headed.
Once the camp was completely settled, Aidan took a water skin and went to Matthew’s carriage.
“Brother Matthew.”
Matthew lifted the curtain to look at him.
Aidan handed the water skin inside, hesitated for a moment, and asked in a low voice, “What... what exactly were those things just now?”
Matthew glanced at him.
Aidan immediately realized he had asked too directly.
He hurriedly lowered his head.
“I won't ask anymore.”
Matthew took the water skin, his voice very low.
“Don't tell anyone about what you saw today.”
Aidan’s heart jolted.
“Yes.”
“If anyone asks, say you don't know.”
“Understood.”
Matthew paused and added, “In a situation like that just now, if you had approached, you would be dead.”
Aidan’s face turned pale.
The words were very direct.
No comfort.
No sugarcoating.
But Aidan didn't argue.
Because he knew it himself.
He whispered, “I understand.”
“Remember this feeling.”
Matthew looked at him.
“Some dangers cannot be solved with courage alone.”
Aidan gripped the water skin strap and nodded seriously.
“I'll remember.”
Matthew said no more.
Aidan didn't continue to disturb him either.
He retreated to the outside of the carriage and sat by the shaft, staring toward the distant woods for a long time without speaking.
Night had completely fallen.
Only a few low campfires remained in the camp.
Firelight was dim, only illuminating a small area. The guards patrolled in shifts, their footsteps very light. The horses occasionally snorted softly, as if they still hadn't fully recovered from the previous unease.
The distant woods were pitch black.
The charred trunks, white frost, and black earth corroded by acid were only vague outlines in the darkness.
But they had existed.
Everyone knew.
No one wanted to talk about it again.
Matthew sat inside the carriage and didn't immediately begin his meditation.
He leaned against the carriage wall, his fingertips lightly stroking the storage ring, replaying the battle in his mind over and over again.
The crimson-robed apprentice’s fire ravens.
The grey-robed apprentice’s runic stones.
The Acid Arrows sealing off routes.
The cold mist crystal creating a chance for a counterattack.
The pre-maintained fire ring protection.
The precise pursuit of the black flame chain.
The decisive withdrawal after the smoke rune.
Every detail was taken apart in his mind and then reassembled.
He hadn't participated.
But he had watched very carefully.
Even more carefully than many who had been personally involved in the battle.
Because he knew that this was exactly what he lacked.
Battles between wizard apprentices were not simple power struggles.
It wasn't that whoever had the more powerful spell would definitely win.
They would probe.
They would induce.
They would block paths.
They would force positions.
They would hide trump cards.
They would eliminate unknown dangers at the lowest cost.
This was a true magical battle.
Matthew thought about his current methods, and his heart was not at ease.
Energy Missile was very useful.
It was fast to cast, had stable consumption, and was powerful enough to deal with many ordinary enemies.
But it was too thin.
It could only attack.
It couldn't protect.
It couldn't obscure vision.
It couldn't restrict an enemy's movement.
It couldn't create traps.
It couldn't change the terrain.
And it couldn't create an opportunity to escape at a critical moment.
If the grey-robed apprentice in that battle just now had been himself, what could he have done?
Attack the crimson-robed apprentice with Energy Missiles?
The opponent had fire ring protection; it might not be easily broken.
When being zoned by Acid Arrows, how could he handle it?
Without cover, without sludge, without smoke, his retreat would only become narrower.
If the opponent released the black flame chain, how would he dodge?
Relying only on reflexes?
Too dangerous.
The more Matthew thought, the colder his heart became.
This coldness was not fear.
It was a calmness born from a clear understanding of the gap.
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