Mage? Magic Engineer!

The Mages moved in a single group. They didn’t split their forces, nor did they disperse to take cover.

This was because before and just after entering the city, the flesh-bud monsters were characterized by their vast numbers and mindless stupor, only speeding up when they got close to the living.

Sticking together and looking out for one another had been the right choice. When the monsters were at their most numerous and dense, splitting up would have created openings while Casters were charging their Magic, likely allowing an attacker to succeed.

But now, that strategy had become a deadly trap. This was especially true when the Blood Cavalry charged, as every Mage had misjudged the situation and launched their Magic into the air.

The real danger, however, erupted from the ground with devastating effect.

Even though nearly every Mage in a combat state had protective Magic active, most of them were unfortunately only Low Tier. They were mostly using the First Ring Spirit Armor Skill, with a damage-reduction Enchantment at best.

Richard raised his hands, and arcs of electricity covered his fists. To avoid friendly fire, he engaged the Blood Knights in this manner—in close-quarters combat.

Pascal, greatly admiring this style of combat, eagerly followed suit. His senior cast Combat Motivation on himself and used Electric Claw to ferociously fight the enemies up close.

Away from Paulina, Combat Motivation could only be used at a time like this.

’Holy shit!’ Paul screamed internally. Richard’s strikes were powerful, his movements both agile and solid; it was clear he was a trained fighter, able to hold his own against the mutated monsters of Ilysov’s Personal Guard and their Blood Blades. Pascal, on the other hand, was all flash and no substance, relying entirely on magical enhancements. Paul’s heart was in his throat as he constantly cast Shield after Shield on Pascal to cover his openings.

The last Blood Cavalryman and his Warhorse were about to trample Pascal when his senior clenched a fist and threw an uppercut. Simultaneously, a Lightning Bolt shot upward from below, piercing through the enemy. The monster dissolved into a splash of scattering pus.

At the same moment, Paul’s Shield cleverly deployed above Pascal’s head, blocking the potential contaminants. Pascal then excitedly asked how he did.

’Wasn’t that cool? Cool my ass, you alchemical sludge!’ Paul wished he actually had a glob of foul sludge in his hand—the kind that often appeared in an Alchemy Cauldron with strange ingredients, left unwashed for too long, or containing the evaporated residue of failed Potions. He would have loved to smear it all over his clueless senior’s face.

"I’m hit! Quick, does anyone have a Healing Scroll?" The Blood Knights’ surprise attack had still managed to injure some of the Mages. Their uniforms, Soft Armor lining, and Low-Tier protections had all failed against the enemy’s sabers. One Mage was split open from the shoulder blade; any deeper and he wouldn’t have needed healing at all.

Wait, healing... "Don’t use the Scroll!" "Stop!" Paul and Richard, the leaders of the two nations’ Mages, shouted the warning at the same time, but they were a step too late.

The injured Mage’s companion, afraid he would bleed out, had used the Scroll with exceptional speed. However, the normally gentle green light now held a bizarre quality. With a flash of light, flesh buds sprouted from the wound, but there was no sign of it closing.

The "healed" Mage’s cries of pain grew more and more horrific. The burgeoning flesh buds rapidly swelled and spread, tearing the wound open even further...

GAG... RETCH... The companion holding the used Scroll felt his stomach churn. He was the closest and had seen with perfect clarity how his good intentions had only hastened the other’s death.

Richard telekinetically gathered the writhing pile of flesh and organs, and the other Mages, acting in silent accord, used various Rays to completely "evaporate" their former comrade.

"Just as I thought. The Healing Spells have been corrupted," Paul said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We’ve come to such a dangerous place, so why is everyone being so reckless?"

"Everyone’s been through too many battles; perhaps their Spirit is severely drained," Richard said, playing the good cop before his tone turned serious. "But a moment’s carelessness can be fatal! Everyone, get your heads in the game!"

Despite his words, Richard himself felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. The sky remained a glaringly bright expanse. They couldn’t see the sun, let alone any change in the daylight or the time.

He took out his Pocket Watch and found that its hands had long since stopped moving. ’Did it break during the fight?’ Richard suppressed the urge to yawn and began discussing their next move with Paul and the other Valois Mages.

The Defender Mage guiding them still had a lingering fear. If not for the three of them working together, he likely would have been cleaved in two from top to bottom. Now, this "local" offered a suggestion: "Aside from the destroyed Long-term Forbidden Magic Device, the city also has an older model that was put in storage. I’d say that given the current situation, it would be more suitable to activate the old machine to terminate all these anomalous phenomena."

"The only problem is... its power source was dismantled."

"No matter. With so many Casters here, we can certainly try," Richard said, his interest piqued. He had the guide point to it on the map, and the man tapped a location near the Magic Guild.

This wasn’t surprising. The devices the Empire had prepared in the city were designed to prioritize the Guild’s headquarters.

"In that case, we should go to the Guild headquarters first. If there are still Casters resisting there, we can gain more strength," said Paul. Compared to finding this unknown model of the device, he was more interested in checking on the state of the Magic Guild and re-establishing contact with the outside world as soon as possible.

Logically, the retreating National Guard should have already carried word of the situation out of the area, but so far, no reinforcements had arrived.

’Strange, it feels like so much time has passed... Is it noon already? The sky hasn’t changed.’ Paul also took out a Pocket Watch, but its hands were spinning wildly. It was clearly broken.

"On guard!"

More than one person heard the shout. The Casters used various detection methods and discovered a crowd of people running down the adjacent street, pursued by a new tide of monsters.

「...」

From his high vantage point, Ilysov took in the entire North Shore District, his eyes fixed on the Mages.

The Mage Corps was currently near the defending army’s old training grounds and requisitioned barracks. Any soldiers and residents who had been in this area were long gone, and the other survivors were either hiding in buildings or had been lucky enough to move to the Guild headquarters.

Ilysov had finished taking control of the myriad monsters. He planned to herd all the survivors still hiding in buildings toward the Guild headquarters.

First, he would force everyone in the city toward the Guild, putting more pressure on its defense systems. Then, he would drive the visiting Mage Corps there as well and wipe them all out in one fell swoop!

Ilysov’s strategy was mediocre, but he had excellent helpers. The fleshy membrane covering the street’s surface churned, and his Barbarian Royal Guard appeared once more, men and horses alike. They received their master’s command to continue harassing Richard, Paul, and the others, and to block off the other side streets.

"A large group of Low-Tier Casters is indeed troublesome, but ultimately, they lack the decisive, overwhelming power to reverse our ritual." The closer it got to the final moment, the calmer Ilysov became. He took out a silver flask and took a sip, earning a long stare from Gregory, who had spotted him.

"Alright, it’s about time." The general let out a deep yawn and began the prelude to his final symphony:

Another round of ash that could set the world ablaze began to fall, like the thick, heavy snow of Ilysov and Gregory’s homeland.

「...」

Rorschach suddenly awoke from his sleep. After becoming a Great Mage, he could go for long periods without rest, but when time permitted, he still enjoyed letting his brain rest. This time, however, he had woken up inexplicably and could no longer fall back asleep.

Outside the window, the night was deep.