Four Split Personalities

On both sides of the ravine, aside from the forty-one ’performers’ who were barely maintaining the "Bloodlust War Drum," the rest of the shaman priests from the allied forces were evenly distributed along the cliffs. They stood on small platforms that the civilian craftsmen had temporarily erected, their bodies radiating the same yellowish glow as the mist outside the totem poles. Their eyes were fixed on the dense mass of mutants in the distance, desperately trying to activate the pre-arranged Earth-binding Totems at maximum range to check the enemy’s momentum.

"This is freaking tough!!"

Tirio Wind Rage watched his magic points slide down like an open floodgate, his face pale as he gritted his teeth and muttered, "I didn’t know this skill used up so much mana before."

The burly orc on the neighboring platform curiously glanced at him, "What mana?"

"Cough cough, nothing, nothing, I just meant that when I used the Earth-binding Totem before, the consumption was quite low, but now..."

Wind Rage shrugged his shoulders and continued to keep an eye on the mutants surrounding his totem pole, his outstretched arms trembling slightly, "I feel like I can only hold on for less than half a minute."

To be precise, with a consumption rate of 3% of magic points and 1% of physical strength per second, Tirio Wind Rage would only last another thirty-two seconds before he would have to down a potion; even with a mana potion’s full effect, under diminishing returns rules, he could last barely less than two more minutes.

"Ha ha, it’s clearly different to ask the spirit of the earth to constrain one enemy compared to a hundred or a thousand," said the bear-skinned orc uncle to Wind Rage, blinking and mustering a tired smile, "Resonate with the earth, it will make it easier for you. I can see that your understanding of shamanic doctrines isn’t very profound."

[Of course it isn’t profound, my belief is in... materialism!]

Wind Rage curled his lip and did not take the other’s words to heart, instead turning his gaze back to the monsters firmly contained within the ravine, trying hard to control himself not to deactivate the totem pole while silently counting down in his mind...

[Five, four, three, two...]

Whew!

A breeze lifted Wind Rage’s cloak.

Slap!

A droplet of clear rainwater hit the face of the shaman next to him.

Crack!

A harmless bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, momentarily brightening the entire ravine.

The sun that had been high in the sky was now solidly covered by sudden overcast clouds, so although it was precisely noon, the already hazy Hodir Pass seemed as if it had been draped with a dark curtain.

The next second,

the rain, without warning, ’smashed’ down.

A magnificent curtain of rain, constricted to a specific area and seemingly poured from mid-air, accompanied by the howling wind, poured down so densely that the droplets almost seemed to block out any gaps. The water gave Wind Rage the impression that there were seven or eight waterfalls suddenly in front of him, swallowing up the thousands of mutants at the forefront.

He turned his head to look back and then, as expected, saw the three ’Mage Towers’ that had been hastily constructed now emitting a hazy glow.

Although he did not know exactly how many magicians were collectively casting spells inside, the scale of a "Torrential Rain Spell" certainly could not be handled by merely seven or eight spellcasters. Even Wind Rage, who had arrived in the Innocent Continent not long ago, knew that altering climatic phenomena using the traits of magic itself was not easy, just like "Earthquake Spells" are seldom able to actually cause earthquakes, "Torrential Rain Spells" couldn’t produce such an extraordinary spectacle!

The unending dark clouds, the relentless flashes of lightning, and the ’rain’ that kept washing over thousands of mutants like persistent waterfalls, each aspect far exceeded the realm of conventional magic.

Low-rank magic doesn’t have such display of power, and high-rank magic doesn’t waste resources so extensively.

It seemed almost futile, like merely wanting to create a rain powerful enough to kill ordinary people outright, because many magicians could use equal or lesser magic points to execute spells with higher lethality, a broader coverage, and greater versatility. Thus, to those unaware of the truth, this behavior mostly seemed ridiculous, but Tirio Wind Rage and the other one hundred two shamans knew why they were doing this...

Twenty seconds. This rainfall, hardly qualifying as torrential, lasted only twenty seconds before it abruptly stopped as if someone had pressed pause, leaving no direct casualties except for extinguishing the Soul Fire deep within the skulls of two mutants.

The indirect result, however, was that the soil under the mutants’ feet in the latter half of the No.0 Defense Area became unusually soft and moist.

The dense clouds above did not disperse, nor did another drop of rain fall, seemingly just floating there in the sky.

Meanwhile, two of the three mage towers in the distance suddenly changed color, transitioning in the blink of an eye from a crystalline ice-blue mist to a heavy earthy yellow, strikingly similar to the hundreds of extensively cracked Earth-binding Totems.

"Hurry, hurry..."

A young elvish mage clutched her hands tightly, muttering nervously. Her left eye, which had formed connections with two Eye of the Mage artifacts, was sore and gritty, yet she continued to ’gaze’ unblinkingly at a far-off gorge and another ’Mage Tower’.

Her name was Bellia Fire Maple, a low-level mage regularly stationed at the Mages’ Guild in Disk Tree City. A few days earlier, she had also assumed the roles of ’Head of the Seventh Joint Spellcasting Squad’ and ’Technician of Resonance Tower Three,’ and at this moment, she was monitoring the situation from atop the third Resonance Tower at the far end of the enemy encounter zone.

The subjects of her surveillance were the mutants temporarily trapped in the gorge and the synchronization rates of the other two Resonance Towers.

"Bellia, how’s it going?"

A worried voice came from below the tower.

"Attribute conversion is complete, but there’s still a discrepancy in synchronization with Tower Two. I’m trying to figure it out!"

Bellia shouted back. She then made several hand gestures to the observer on top of Resonance Tower Two and, after reaching a preliminary consensus, she quickly ran to the edge of the tower top and yelled down to her companion, "Increase magic output, force synchronization! As soon as connections are established, start chanting immediately!"

A scrawny dwarf in a mage robe blinked and shouted back, "But didn’t you just say the Magic Adjustor broke during that last joint casting spell attempt, how can we force synchronization?"

"The adjustor on Tower Two isn’t broken. I can see their power indices through the Eye of the Mage. As for us..."

Bellia scratched her head and shrugged, "I’ll replace the Magic Adjustor. You just need to keep increasing the magic output; leave the rest to me."

The scrawny Dwarf Mage was stunned. "What do you think you are, a Measure Magic Crystal? How can..."

"The Shamans can’t hold on any longer."

Bellia bluntly interrupted her mentor, who had never quite grasped the threshold of a high-level mage, shaking her head, "Although I have a poor sense of elements, when it comes to controlling magic power, not even you can match me. Listen well, increase the magic output immediately. Once synchronization is complete, start chanting with everyone!"

"Alright, what about you?"

"If I’m lucky, I might not die. That’s it, start now!"

After finishing her piece, Bellia ran to two magic arrays at the center of the tower top. At the intersection, she pried out a large, cracked, semi-transparent, rhomboid Demon Crystal and inserted her right hand into its slot.

The next second, her body trembled as if struck by lightning...

"Bellia, stop right now!"

The anxious voice of her mentor came from below the tower.

"Well, it seems you do care about me quite a bit, dear dear dear dear teacher."

Bellia whispered tremulously, keeping her slender right hand firmly in the slot, exerting all her might to maintain her Eye of the Mage and, referencing the readings on the Magic Adjustor at the top of Tower Two, struggled to adjust the immense magic power from over a hundred people that she perceived.

"Bellia! Stop right now!"

The voice of the Dwarf mentor sounded again.

"I’m sorry sorry sorry, teacher teacher teacher."

Bellia bit her lip hard, speaking firmly, "But I..."

Crack!

A semi-transparent, rhomboid Demon Crystal was thrown up from below the tower, sliding precisely to Bellia’s feet.

"I just remembered I had a spare one here!"

The teacher’s voice sounded for the third time.

"You you you you you old man!"

Chapter Four Hundred Thirty Two: The End