Mage? Magic Engineer!

Ilysov focused on two fronts. One was Richard, Paul, and their group entering from the outskirts; the other was the Magic Guild in Ovord.

The Guild building was right on the shore. It had now become a stronghold against the monsters in the city. Its steadfast tower gave people a sense of security, and they gradually gathered around it to take refuge.

There weren’t many Official Mages left defending the Guild; it was mainly Apprentices using the building’s built-in defensive devices to resist.

As a general entrusted with great responsibility by the Empire, Ilysov’s knowledge of the Magic Guild couldn’t match a Caster’s, but he knew more than the average person.

He knew he had to exploit the time delay. When the war began, the Forbidden Magic Device’s interference took the city’s communication node offline. After imprisoning the meddlesome Hench, Ilysov immediately ordered his Personal Guard to take over the post and telegraph offices, thereby gaining complete control over all communications in the city.

Therefore, Ilysov had to complete all his rituals before the Guild headquarters could restore its communication network. Otherwise, in the worst-case scenario, a Great Mage might arrive on the scene via an emergency Teleportation Array.

"Can you speed up the entire ritual?" Ilysov asked Gregory, his tone carefully measured—a blend of command and what he considered respect.

Gregory paid little mind to the general’s attitude. From his expression, he seemed unconcerned with everything happening around them, instead pacing intently before an Alchemy Potion Cabinet.

The original master of the Mage Tower had long since disappeared. He might still be in the army, or perhaps he had already died in battle. In any case, a thin layer of dust covered the bottles and jars that had belonged to the Tower Master.

Gregory pried open the lids, sniffing each one in turn. Only when he caught the scent of alcohol would he take a lick.

If one of his own soldiers had put on such a cavalier act in front of him, the pot-bellied general wouldn’t have hesitated to pull out his custom-made, extra-long, copper-buckled leather belt and whip Gregory until he spun like a top. But for now, he just gave up resentfully and pulled out a telescope to scan the streets.

Ilysov had already made his decision: he would set the center of the second ritual at the Magic Guild’s headquarters.

As a native of the Northern Lands whose ancestors had been assimilated by the Empire, Ilysov’s family had maintained the tradition of keeping a Personal Guard. They were all barbarians skilled in horse archery and raiding. Now, Ilysov had used the "boon" of a Divine Spirit to give his trusted subordinates a few "upgrades."

He unfurled a scroll covered in filthy markings, walked to the window, and began to chant aloud. The melody, resonating from his great belly, was sonorous and powerful. Even Gregory, who had been single-mindedly searching for alcoholic liquids, couldn’t help but stop what he was doing to listen, watch, and reveal a cryptic smile beneath his tangled beard and hair.

As a fellow man of the Northern Lands, Gregory vaguely recalled his grandfather calling out just like this on the open plains—a call to the beginning of all things, a call to the end of all things.

Under the spell’s command, the flesh and blood that nearly carpeted the streets began to move on its own again. It didn’t reform into more monsters but instead found cracks in the ground, burrowing into the earth to return to Mother Earth’s embrace.

Then, they would recover their strength and go on to strangle the enemy. They converged and surged underground, growing stronger and stronger, as if the city itself had come alive, its streets becoming its beating pulse.

"What’s that sound? Is someone singing?" Richard was startled by the faint song in the city, but it quickly faded, leaving only the howling of the north wind. It made him think he had imagined it.

After entering the city, the battle had gone smoothly.

This was probably the moment with the most Mages Ovord had ever seen in its history, and they were all acting in concert.

With the combat experience they had previously accumulated, their efficiency at killing the flesh-bud monsters increased. Most used Thunder Magic, while a few could unleash a silver Holy Light. Compared to the gold light of the Order Church, the Holy Attribute damage from the Mages was sharper and more aggressive.

"We’ve been clearing out monsters nonstop, but there’s no sign of the ritual being interrupted." Paul frowned at the sky. It was still a ghastly white expanse, showing no sunlight or fluctuations, like an artificial white screen enveloping the entire city.

And above it all, shadows were gathering, their edges like scattered, drifting ash, which was deeply unsettling.

"There are fluctuations in Magic Power, but the core is... the Magic Guild headquarters?" Richard’s perception of ambient Magic Power was still the best among the accompanying Mages (unless Rorschach was present), but this time his judgment was cautious.

"That’s the only way I can judge it. If the core of the evil ritual is within the city, then it’s in the same direction as the Guild, relative to us."

Many of the Military Mages were not Guild members, and they immediately showed expressions that said, "We get it."

The Mages from Valois were all Guild members, so they naturally had to save some face. Pascal came up with a reasonable explanation: "It’s likely that the connection between the headquarters and the communication network was severed when the Forbidden Magic Domain was deployed. The Guild is probably mobilizing Magic Power to reconstruct the Magic Array now."

This view gained a lot of agreement. With such a major crisis underway, as long as the people in the headquarters hadn’t lost their minds or been eaten by flesh-bud monsters, they should be trying to restore outside communication as quickly as possible.

"Could it also be possible... that there’s no man-made ritual, and this disaster is just a natural phenomenon? Uh, I mean the emergence of other forces. For example, there have been several incursions by the Earth Mother Goddess in Valuva, and the Seraph Sect disaster," Paul proposed a new line of thought.

"Perhaps anything is possible," Richard analyzed. "Clearly, some kind of power is active. Based on our past knowledge, rituals shouldn’t be this effective since the Silent Generation."

They were now led by a Caster from the city’s defenders. The leader paced back and forth with a map, eventually leading the Mages back to the defenders’ temporary garrison.

"Halt. On alert!"

The thick stench of blood!

Everyone’s nerves instantly tensed. In front of the open space, the sentry posts and barracks had been torn to pieces. Strands of connective tissue hung from slanted pillars and walls, dripping with a viscous, dark red liquid.

In the center of the training ground stood several men dressed in animal hides. They weren’t carrying guns; instead, they held curved sabers and stood with their horses.

Both men and horses were mangled masses of flesh and blood, steaming in the winter air. But the mist was bizarre—it slowly sank downwards.

"Hey! You’re General Ilysov’s Personal Guard, right? What happened? Did monsters attack the barracks?" The leading Military Mage wanted to approach the barbarian cavalrymen standing amidst the gore, acting out of panic. Richard didn’t even have time to stop him. He had to use [Mage’s Hand] to yank the advancing Mage back. "Take a closer look!"

Only a blind man or a fool would think those standing over there were normal people, yet this Caster chose this exact moment to be stupid.

The singing started again... a foreign melody... suited for a baritone. Richard was finally sure he hadn’t been imagining things.

The men and horses seemed to receive a command and suddenly erupted into action. A monstrous horse reared up, and simultaneously, a man of blood vaulted onto its back.

All the Mages expected them to leap and close the distance. Instantly, all sorts of lightning and rays flew through the air. But unexpectedly, these blood-red monsters dove headfirst into the ground, melting into the other viscous filth. Their initial movement had been like a preparation for a dive.

"Here they come!"

Instantly, three blue shields appeared in front of and behind the Military Mage who had been their guide. The monsters had actually burst out from the ground. The streams of blood reconverged into the form of cavalrymen, who began slashing wildly with their sabers.

The [Blue Light Barrier]s came from Paul, Richard, and Pascal, one after another.

In the heat of the moment, they exchanged surprised glances, and his senior brother blurted out, "So you too..."