Hogg gripped the two peace talismans tightly in his hands, his entire body trembling slightly.
Every word Setis had just spoken still echoed in his ears. As the Royal Preceptor and one of the only five remaining Heroic Spirit rank individuals on the Ogu Continent, he had lived for over two hundred years and witnessed countless deaths, yet he had never faced a choice as difficult as this. The amulets in his palm radiated a faint, lingering warmth—they were supposed to be that young girl’s protection, but now they had been handed to him. He had to choose between preserving these lives and striking back at the enemy.
The whistling sound of wind mana drew closer and closer.
Ignatius’s figure emerged from the shadows of the building ruins, the tall mage still by his side, followed by over thirty Blood Moon Cultists. He stopped about twenty paces from Hogg and the others, his gaze sweeping over the group supporting each other as they retreated, finally landing on the two peace talismans in Hogg’s hand. A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth.
“What a touching performance.” He raised his hand and clapped slowly three times. “Let me guess—willing to face death for country and people? This is indeed a scene worthy of the history books, though unfortunately, none of you will live to see the day it is written.”
His gaze turned toward Setis.
“The youngest daughter of the Sebas family... I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself last time. I heard what you said just now; it was truly heart-wrenching. To willingly give up your chance at survival and hand the amulets to the Preceptor—to be honest, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a pure noble.”
Setis leaned against the corner of a wall, lacking even the strength to respond, only staring at him coldly.
Ignatius didn’t care about her silence and turned back to Hogg, spreading his hands.
“But then again, Hogg—do you know how much longer those people you’re trying so hard to save will actually live?” He tilted his head, his tone casual. “I took a detour to check on several teaching buildings on my way here. Concentrating everyone there was a wise decision—gathering them all together makes it much easier to wipe them out at once.”
The few students who could still maintain consciousness turned pale.
“What do you mean?” Tyris struggled to stand up.
“It means that as we speak, my men are clearing those teaching buildings one by one. The northern one has already been taken, and everyone inside has been turned into a sacrifice. The remaining buildings probably won’t hold out much longer. The people you’re risking your lives to protect are now becoming nourishment for the barrier, one by one.” As Ignatius spoke, he pointed toward the dark red light curtain slowly flowing in the southeast. “What did you think this barrier was for? To trap you? To suppress your strength, Hogg?”
He withdrew his hand and crossed them over the top of his staff, looking as composed as if he were delivering an academic lecture.
“This barrier is, in essence, an egg.”
Hogg’s hand tightened around the peace talismans, and for the first time, his expression wavered visibly.
“Impossible,” he squeezed the words through his teeth. “Fifty years ago, your blood sacrifice was interrupted. Not a single person presiding over it survived, and all related ritual data was destroyed—”
“The Preceptor has a good memory.” Ignatius interrupted him, his smile remaining. “But you should also remember that the ritual that nearly brought about the descent of the True God back then was not an original creation of the Blood Moon Cult. It came from an even more ancient existence—from the Blood Moon God itself. How can the will of a god be erased by mortals burning a few books?”
He raised a hand, as if stroking the invisible mana currents in the air.
“You did stop us fifty years ago. That city was destroyed, the cult leader died, and not one in ten core members survived—but what price did you pay? You know better than anyone. To tear open the nearly completed barrier, you drained your own mana source. To this day, you still cannot exert your full strength, can you?”
Hogg remained silent.
“And this time, we improved the ritual.” Ignatius lowered his hand, his gaze falling back on him. “Using ordinary people as sacrifices has too low a conversion efficiency; the quantity and preparation time required are far too great. But professionals are different—especially mages and warriors who have undergone formal training. Their mana and vitality have been systematically developed, making their conversion efficiency more than ten times that of ordinary people. Using professionals as sacrifices not only significantly reduces the required numbers and time but also allows the barrier itself to undergo a qualitative change.”
He pointed to the light curtain overhead.
“This Mana-Devouring Barrier is merely a shell. Once the egg inside has absorbed enough nourishment, the shell will automatically shatter—and at that moment, the Blood Moon God will descend upon the world. The regret from fifty years ago will be rectified today.”
He paused, as if giving his audience time to process the information.
“As for you—especially you professionals—your sacrifice is meaningful. Every bit of mana drained from you is a brick added to the foundation of the god’s descent. In exchange, once the Blood Moon God descends, the first place to be leveled... will be this royal capital.”
He spread his hands, the smile on his face finally losing all restraint.
“So, thank you all for your sacrifice. The kingdom will remember you—until it is destroyed.”
“You’re insane,” Tyris’s voice was nearly hoarse.
Ignatius ignored him and simply raised his staff.
“It is almost time. Since there is no longer a need to guard the node, there is little point in keeping you alive as nourishment—better to just send you on your way so you aren’t an eyesore.”
The thirty-plus Blood Moon Cultists behind him raised their staffs simultaneously, their magical glow merging into a dark red tide of mana.
Hector struggled to raise his sword, his arm shaking so much the blade wouldn’t steady. Marcus crossed his notched short-handled battleaxes in front of him, shielding several teachers and students who could no longer stand, his legs trembling but refusing to retreat a single step. Setis leaned against the wall, trying to summon the last trace of mana within her body.
Hogg pressed the two peace talismans into his palms, and the four-colored mana patterns on his staff flared to their absolute limit. At that moment, a voice came from behind the group.
“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt.”
The tone was neither high nor low, and the phrasing was perfectly polite, as if the speaker were merely asking for directions. Everyone present was distracted by the sudden voice and looked toward its source in unison.
Li Yuan stood a few paces away from Setis. He was still wearing that spotless cyan robe, its hem gently fluttering in the breeze within the barrier. No one had seen when he appeared, nor had anyone sensed any mana fluctuations—it was as if he had stepped out of the air itself, standing silently on the messy, open ground.
His gaze bypassed everyone and landed accurately on Ignatius.
“May I ask—did you order someone to blow up my tea shop?”
The moment Setis saw that figure, her heart skipped a beat. It was Li Yuan—it was him—how could he be here? Immediately after, a chill ran up her spine. She opened her mouth to shout for him to run, but only a dry, raspy sound came out. She lacked even the strength to speak, and could only watch as the figure in cyan walked unhurriedly toward Ignatius.
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