A fifth wizard leaped from the teleportation array.
He soared directly into the sky, ripples of air forming beneath his feet as he hovered in midair.
He was a young male wizard, dressed in a light, pale blue robe that snapped loudly in the wind.
He spread his hands before him, and countless fine arcs of blue electricity flickered between his ten fingers.
He looked down at the ground below.
The Amons' flying magical beast swarms were circling at a low altitude, the giants with wingspans of over ten meters diving from the heights, their sharp claws reaching for the cannon fodder legions near the fortress.
The young male wizard brought his hands together.
The sky darkened for a split second.
A massive bolt of lightning crashed down from the clear sky. No, it wasn't just one—it was hundreds. Hundreds of lightning bolts descended simultaneously, accurately striking every single flying magical beast.
The glare of the lightning was so intense that people couldn't keep their eyes open, and the thunder shook the earth itself.
Once the lightning dissipated, there was nothing left in the sky.
The flying magical beasts that had spanned over ten meters had all vanished, leaving not even ashes behind.
The air was thick with the pungent scent of ozone and the smell of charred flesh.
The young male wizard remained suspended in the air, pale blue arcs of electricity still dancing at his fingertips.
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping toward the more distant Amons positions.
A sixth wizard was shirtless, revealing muscles so lean and powerful they were absurd. His skin was bronze, covered in dark gold runes.
Those runes extended from his neck all the way down to his ankles, shimmering with a metallic luster under the sun.
He stepped barefoot onto the muddy ground, each footfall leaving a footprint half a meter deep.
He didn't release any wizardry; he simply walked straight toward the area where the Amons were most densely packed.
...
Behind the lines, at the War Fortress Command.
On the battlefield map beneath the dome, the blue color representing the Wizard World was expanding at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The front lines, which had been locked in a stalemate, had turned into a one-sided slaughter after the Official Wizards joined the fray.
The blue blocks pushed forward relentlessly, while the green blocks retreated frantically.
Wizard Thousand Eyes stood before the circular command console, his gaze scanning the battlefield map.
"Advance the left flank three kilometers; have the right flank keep pace. Push the Treant legions from the Third War Zone forward to fill the gaps in the center. Split the First-Tier Wizards of the Fifth War Zone into three squads: two to support the flanks, and one to strike directly at the enemy priest positions."
The white-robed wizards behind him bowed their heads and worked rapidly on their light screens, translating his commands into specific coordinates and routes.
Ethan's gaze was fixed firmly on those Official Wizards.
This was an Official Wizard.
The gap between an apprentice and a wizard was not something that could be bridged by numbers.
It was a difference in the very level of life, a crushing weight at the level of the laws themselves.
Even with so many passives, his full output would only be slightly larger in scale and destructive power than their casual strikes.
It truly was like the difference between clouds and mud.
Just as Ethan withdrew his gaze, a thin ray of pale purple light flashed past the edge of his vision from the right.
The light was as thin as a strand of hair and so dim its trajectory was almost invisible, yet its speed was terrifyingly fast.
Ethan didn't even have time to make a dodging maneuver before the light grazed his left shoulder.
His left shoulder, along with a small portion of his chest cavity, silently melted away.
Skin, muscle, and bone vaporized instantly upon contact with that ray of light.
His left arm was severed from his torso, falling to the muddy ground with a dull thud alongside the remains of half a lung and several ribs.
Pale red blood erupted from the cross-section, splashing a circle of ripples into the pool of blood beneath his feet.
Ethan looked down at the portion of his body that was now missing, then looked at the arm lying on the ground.
???
Seriously, man, is friendly fire turned on?
And isn't this attack power a bit too much?
My body has been reinforced multiple times by secret techniques; I'm not that much weaker than a typical Body Refinement wizard.
And just one graze did this to me?
Naturally, no one answered him.
The female wizard who had just crushed three thousand Amons warriors with a pale purple ring of light had already turned in another direction.
She had no idea her attack had grazed a Third-Tier Apprentice.
An Amons Sentinel phalanx was currently charging, waiting for her to deal with them.
Who would have expected a Third-Tier Apprentice to be squatting right at the front lines in the middle of a swarm of Amons?
Ethan casually finished off several dozen Amons warriors who were charging at him again. With a thought, countless lights surged around him.
He took out a bottle of emerald potion and downed it.
Strands of flesh and blood slowly began to grow.
At the same time, countless vines suddenly sprouted from beneath his feet, wrapping tightly around him and dragging him into the earth.
Soil and debris surged up from both sides, quickly swallowing his body.
After tunneling roughly a hundred meters underground.
"Yeah, this position should be about right."
Before the words had even faded, Ethan's head went bang, exploding instantly.
In the next moment, a completely intact Ethan was fully resurrected.
"Man, that was my first time committing suicide. That was even more intense than being killed hundreds of times by Zhuoya."
After complaining, Ethan didn't go back up to continue the fight.
Going up now would be too conspicuous.
Even if almost no one was watching him, he had to be prepared.
Just in case.
Meanwhile, on the surface.
The Amons' First-Tier lifeforms had finally stepped up.
A strongman clad in dark green scales leaped out from behind the Amons' lines.
He was barefoot, each step on the ground sending mud flying. In his hands, he gripped a bone-white warhammer with a head larger than a person; every swing of the hammer blasted a ten-meter-wide crater into the earth.
The Wizard World's cannon fodder legions were sent flying in total disarray, with severed limbs and broken bones splashing in all directions along with the debris.
On the left, an Amons female priest stood atop a four-legged behemoth that was eight meters tall at the shoulder.
She held a short staff in both hands, and emerald light shot continuously from its tip.
Wherever the light passed, the ground exploded as thick roots burst from the soil, wrapping around the Wizard World's contract beasts and dragging them underground.
A mechanical hound five meters tall had its limbs and neck entangled by over a dozen roots simultaneously. Its dark silver metal armor let out an unbearable screeching sound under the strangling force of the roots.
Five seconds later, the mechanical hound was snapped in two, with spare parts and energy fluid erupting from the break.
More Amons First-Tier lifeforms surged out from behind the lines. Their numbers were far greater than the Official Wizards of the Wizard World.
Pale green figures moved rapidly across the battlefield, seeking out the Official Wizards who were still slaughtering low-rank warriors and intercepting them by force.
The Amons' tactic was simple.
Use their numerical advantage to divide the battlefield and isolate the Official Wizards one by one.
Three to five Sentinels would besiege a single Official Wizard; though they couldn't kill them, they could keep them pinned down.
The priests would then use area-of-effect attacks from the rear to suppress the advance of the Wizard World's forces.
The remaining Sentinels continued to sweep through the cannon fodder legions, relieving the pressure on the low-rank warriors.
As long as they could achieve this, it would be a victory for the campaign.
Rate on N.U.
