Chapter 221: A Simple Battle

After finishing his meditation, Shaoke embraced Mage Yisier beside him and held her close. The female mage Yisier was awakened by his slight movements; she gently kissed his forehead, stretched comfortably, and ignored his hands, which had slipped into her robes, as she fell back asleep.

At dawn, the mages woke on time. Mage Yisier gently removed his hand from her chest, straightened her robes, which Shaoke had disheveled, and donned her mage robe and white cloak before leaving first. She didn’t want the other mages gossiping about her staying too long in a male mage’s tent.

“Mage Xueye,” the necromancer, perpetually shrouded in gray mist, glided to Shaoke’s side. “I laid those dead to rest last night, so remember your promise!” He leaned closer and whispered with a chuckle, “You weren’t very loud last night; I didn’t hear a thing.”

Shaoke, busy packing his tent, ignored the jab. He quickly finished and sought out the White-robed Cleric, asking her to cast the special spell that reduced the turbulence and pain in his meditation space. The White-robed Cleric felt uneasy under his lingering gaze; she hadn’t expected the shy male mage she’d met in the Bloody Fortress to become so bold and mature.

The mages didn’t wait for the Blizzard Legion to catch up but pressed on toward the ruined city ahead. They needed to clear out scattered enemy forces to ensure the army’s arrival and secure supply lines.

The group resumed their journey, maintaining their formation along the broken road. Scouts, skilled at concealing their magical fluctuations, soon detected a force up ahead. Checking the markings on the captain’s magic item, the mages identified them as an Esuoer Empire unit. Unsure if they were a raiding party or fleeing remnants, the mages prepared for battle.

The Fifth Tier Mages used their delayed spellcasting technique, preparing third-level spells in advance. The Fourth Tier Mages, after closing the distance, quickly readied their own spells. Three Clerics cast support spells on the stronger mages, bracing for the coming fight.

As the distance closed, the enemy force spotted Shaoke’s group—the sheer magical fluctuations gave them away. The mages locked onto them with their spiritual energy. Nearly a hundred mental or magical locks sent panic rippling through the enemy ranks.

“Attack!” Shaoke unleashed his spell first. A crimson beam shot toward the locked-on target, followed by a barrage from the other mages.

The enemy couldn’t intercept all the incoming spells. Dozens of large-area defensive spells shielded key positions, but they shattered under the relentless barrage.

“There are ritualists—kill them all,” the middle-aged commanding mage ordered swiftly. A unit protected by ritualists likely guarded important figures. To prevent escape or rallying, the commander gave this order. Meanwhile, Shaoke prepared a fifth-tier spell.

Chanting in the Ancient Magic Tongue with a few words of the Elder Tongue, and boosted by the White-robed Cleric’s support, Shaoke cast his spell at top speed. A pale white vortex formed above him, then howled down toward the ritualists’ gathering point.

A newly raised defensive spell shattered instantly. Over a dozen ritualists and soldiers, who were caught off guard, were torn to pieces by the vortex. Its low temperature minimized bloodshed, but the enemy force still fell into chaos.

The surviving ritualists quickly cast mass area defensive spells, while some soldiers, after brief prayers, glowed with white light and leaped out of the defensive magic array, charging toward Shaoke’s group.

Area-of-effect spells barely harmed these white-shrouded soldiers. Only focused single-target spells from specialized mages could break through the white light—often requiring three or four hits to kill the frenzied warriors, who had sacrificed much of their life force for that protection.

The few Fifth Tier Mages didn’t join the fray. They guarded the Clerics and watched for ambushes or other threats, a lesson learned after losing many companions to infiltrators or archers. One female mage had her chest shattered by an archer.

White beams from the void empowered soldiers and ritualists, who cast defensive and support spells on their allies. But against a force dominated by Fifth Tier Mages, their resistance crumbled.

A fifth-tier Death Ray pierced two layers of defense and shattered a ritualist’s skull. Shaoke then prepared a fifth-tier Death Slash—a black line over twenty meters long that cut through a supply wagon, broke another defensive spell, and vanished. Following his breach, a torrent of single-target spells poured in.

Low-order warriors fell quickly. When a sixth-rank warrior was immobilized by Shaoke’s upgraded Death Gaze, the necromancer’s curses aged him rapidly until he crumbled into bones. The necromancer then reanimated the skeleton, which picked up its saber and attacked its former comrades.

With the warriors dead, the mages focused their fire. Layer after layer of defensive spells shattered under nearly a hundred attacks, and the priests fell to follow-up spells. The enemy had few mages, so Shaoke’s group easily crushed all resistance.

With their protectors gone, a middle-aged man in a count’s formal attire stepped forward, accompanied by a female ritualist and other family members. Straightening himself, he raised his scepter and shouted, “I am a noble! By the rules, you have no right to punish me!” Glancing back at his family, he gritted his teeth and added, “We surrender—spare our lives!” He thrust his scepter into the ground, following ancient war customs.

The count’s fate was sealed. Ignoring old rules, the mages brutally blasted him apart. Only the women survived, destined not for comfort but servitude. One young girl, before the mages could act, drew a dagger and plunged it into her heart without hesitation.

The other women and the female ritualist hesitated at suicide, allowing the mages to disable them with defensive spells and bind them with ropes.

“How far to the destination?” a fourth-tier mage, who had joined only two years ago, asked while groping a noblewoman under the pretense of searching her. “We could take them along.” He looked to Shaoke and the other commanders for approval.

“If danger arises, follow the old rule,” an older mage said, glancing at the hopeful faces of his peers. After brief consultation with Shaoke, they agreed. The old rule meant killing the women quickly if enemies appeared, to avoid distractions.

Under the women’s fearful gazes, the necromancer moved the dead into bomb craters and buried them. The supply wagons, after being searched for valuables, were left on the road for the main army to collect.

The women, perhaps understanding war’s cruelty, offered little resistance as mages took them onto horseback and continued the march.

Some female practitioners disapproved of this plunder, but in the madness of war, it was unavoidable. The military had issued no orders against it, as the Blue Feather Empire and its allies planned to erase the Esuoer Empire’s population—except for young, attractive women, who were needed to relieve the soldiers’ accumulated stress from prolonged conflict.