Chapter 234: Far-fetched Theories
One year passed in the blink of an eye.
When Priam finally stepped out of his quarters at an unhurried pace, he was greeted by the fresh air outside.
"Pry!"
The moment he crossed the entrance, Mirra called out excitedly, lightly jumping and floating over before landing on his shoulder.
"You took way too long to come out! I already reached Level 8 two days ago!" she said, crossing her little arms with a pout.
Priam smiled and apologized.
Over the past year, Mirra had learned to speak almost perfectly, though she had adopted the nickname "Pry" for him. As for her growth, it had been astonishing: she was already a Level 8 Holy Mage Acolyte.
Priam shifted his gaze toward his generals, then to the troops, feeling a wave of surprise and satisfaction.
Besides the 1,000 Holy Mages—who had become Mage Masters quite some time ago—all the remaining members had reached the peak as Level 9 Mage Disciples.
They had been in the sect for around two years, and with full access to the branch’s resources, raising their levels wasn’t an impossible task. Even Dandara had reached that stage.
For her, manipulating Ether was a thousand times harder than it was for everyone else, so she had devoted herself with astonishing determination.
Dandara’s eyes lit up when she realized Priam had noticed her progress. There was a fierce desire within her to prove she wasn’t dead weight, easing any worries he might have had about her pace.
As for Priam himself, he was now a Level 2 Mage Master. It had taken him a full ten months to completely study all the theoretical knowledge, leaving him with only the last two months to raise his levels.
"Let’s go," Priam said, activating the group teleport mark on his emblem.
In a fraction of a second, the two thousand people were engulfed in light and relocated to a monumental plaza.
Mishnar was already waiting for them in the center of the complex, surrounded by a dozen Elders.
The atmosphere was solemnly silent, and the arrival of Priam’s army immediately drew everyone’s attention.
The sect’s three Young Mage factions had already gathered. Priam gave them a slight nod. Sallya, Daraen, and Inigo all wore visibly tense expressions.
The struggle for the branch’s resources still continued among the three, but the competition had lost much of its original excitement after Priam and his faction had risen to a higher level.
Those three factions no longer even felt like they were competing with each other or trying to outdo one another.
Their only real goal now was to keep advancing and reach the next level as well. They didn’t want to stay behind Priam for long. That was the true effect of having a rival who was infinitely superior, constantly pressuring their egos to grow.
Not long afterward, the branch’s two advanced-level factions arrived, completing the six factions of that branch.
Mishnar nodded sternly.
"It’s time. The details will be delivered directly by the Central Elders. Activate the teleportation!"
The surrounding Elders rose into the air, forming a ritualistic circle above the disciples.
Within seconds, a distorted spatial vortex swallowed the surroundings. It was an extremely high-level interplanetary teleportation, launching everyone at incredible speed toward a distant planet.
Three minutes passed within the darkness of outer space.
When reality stabilized, a vast barren wasteland appeared beneath their feet. But what truly stood out wasn’t the scorched land—it was the colossal crowd occupying it.
Priam looked around, genuinely impressed. An ocean of Mages stretched as far as the eye could see—easily hundreds of thousands.
Every faction from all thirteen Outer Branches of the Ironweald Sect had gathered their forces for this mission.
Seeing so many high-level Mages assembled in one place was an awe-inspiring sight. They stood grouped across the desert beneath the banners of their respective Branches, radiating a density that made the air itself tremble.
Mishnar led her contingent to a reserved area of the camp. As they walked, Dandara quietly whispered everything she knew about the other Branches into Priam’s ear.
When they came to a stop, Mishnar was immediately greeted by delegations from the other Branches.
"Greetings, Branch Leader Elder of the Eleventh Branch."
Several Branch Leader Elders bowed respectfully as they greeted Mishnar, followed by the solemn bows of the disciples standing behind them.
Mishnar enjoyed a legendary reputation. Besides, even though the Eleventh Branch had fallen to the bottom ranks in recent years, no one dared openly disrespect them.
The reason?
They possessed a terrifying legacy and foundation.
Priam had already heard about it. The Eleventh Branch specialized in weapons and terrifying weapon techniques.
The Branch also possessed an invaluable arsenal of high-level arcane weapons. The only drawback was that only Sages could bring out the full potential of those treasures. That was why Priam had never seen any of them yet.
Even so, because their foundation ran so deep, the other Branches knew the Eleventh Branch could rise again at any moment. So it was wiser to stay on good terms with them.
"You are all very courteous," Mishnar replied, sweeping her gaze across the crowd. "It seems your Branches had excellent luck during the last recruitment. These young Mages are of remarkable quality."
"You flatter us, Branch Leader Elder," replied a youthful-looking Branch Leader Elder with a modest smile. "This generation of disciples is indeed the most outstanding our Branch has ever produced. We hope they’ll continue to grow in this blessed domain and become true Sages in the future. But... our greatest concern is the dangers of this mission. If those damned Sorcerers attack, we hope we can count on the support of the heroes of the Eleventh Branch."
Behind the young Elder Leader stood only two thousand people—a small contingent that contrasted sharply with the colossal crowds of the other Branches.
The young Elder turned and gave a respectful bow toward Priam and the members of the Eleventh Branch.
Priam promptly returned the gesture out of courtesy. However, the leaders of the other factions in his Branch merely nodded with some restraint. Only after seeing Priam’s attitude did Sallya, Daraen, and Inigo, somewhat hesitantly, repeat the gesture with polite awkwardness.
They had acted that way because they looked down on that Branch Leader Elder. After all, he came from the Tenth Branch. They were currently in last place, and throughout history, that position had never belonged to any other Branch.
They were the legendary insects of the Outer Branches.
Known for their eternal mediocrity.
The reason they had so few members was obvious: the Eighth Branch had ambushed them in the past, just as it had tried to do with the Eleventh Branch, forcing them to give up two-thirds of their available slots.
Dandara had already warned Priam about who that young Branch Leader Elder was. But regardless of his Branch’s fallen status, Priam saw a leader who didn’t hesitate to swallow his pride and plead for the safety of his disciples.
To that man, the lives of his people were worth more than his pride. If openly asking for help was what it took to make sure his young disciples returned alive, he would do it without hesitation. That attitude earned Priam’s genuine respect.
Just then, a loud, arrogant voice echoed from behind them.
"Don’t worry. If our brothers and sisters from the other Branches need help, we certainly won’t just stand by!"
Everyone turned around.
"If you need help, you should be begging the ones who actually run this place!"
Everyone saw the massive delegation from the Eighth Branch advancing with heavy steps. The owner of the voice wasn’t Validar, but a tall, muscular Mage Master leading all the disciple factions, walking right behind the Branch Leader Elder.
Dandara frowned in irritation, but a single glance from Priam was enough to stop her.
Priam didn’t like picking fights for no reason... but if they truly wanted chaos and pushed him far enough...
The hand that usually held the black branch suddenly started itching.
It had been quite a while since he’d beaten someone in a truly satisfying way.
Most of the disciples from the other Branches hurried over to greet and flatter the delegation from the Eighth Branch, the strongest force among the Outer Branches.
Only the members of the Tenth Branch remained still, their fists clenched in silence. They didn’t have the stomach to pretend to be polite to the bastards who had robbed them.
Instead, the disciples of the Tenth Branch turned toward the six factions of the Eleventh Branch, hoping to build friendly ties. Being so heavily outnumbered, they knew that having strong allies could mean the difference between life and death during the mission.
To show respect and stroke those Mages’ egos, the youths of the Tenth Branch began asking questions about Magic Arts.
Several of them even gathered around Dandara, asking for combat advice. No one cared that she was a half-beast. Sure, they were putting on an act, but... she genuinely liked it.
That natural acceptance flipped a switch in Dandara’s mind. Her talkative, troublemaking side came right out.
Excited, she started giving advice with so much enthusiasm that it quickly turned into confusing explanations and far-fetched theories with absolutely no basis. The disciples could only smile awkwardly, completely lost.
Priam watched the scene from the corner of his eye and let out an amused snort, shaking his head at the girl’s enthusiasm.