Chapter 131 The War Ends

Shaoke tried to probe the area indicated by Mage Roman with his mental energy. Although his mental energy was strong, it still couldn't compare to that of a Third Tier Mage, so he didn't sense any enemies there. However, he didn't give up on the mental probe and continued to maintain his focus, hoping to detect them as quickly as possible if they appeared.

Mage Roman kept updating Shaoke and the others on her findings, urging her companions to stay prepared. But after waiting for a while, she said with a puzzled expression, "Strange, why have they retreated? Could it be..." Before she could finish, she noticed new information transmitted through the magical item she carried.

Only after the mage team from the Desasi Empire disappeared from Roman's mental detection range did she take out the item to check it. "Some pretty good news, though I imagine a few of you might not want to hear it," she said with a smile, looking at her tense companions who were ready to fight the enemy.

"The military has issued an order—our mission is now over," Mage Roman announced, seeing the confused looks on the mages' faces. She added, "We won't have to fight the mages of the Desasi Empire in this canyon anymore. The battles between mages are over." She took a deep breath, waved her staff, and continued, "We must return, as quickly as possible. We need a good rest, maybe get a drink at the tavern."

"Stop fighting?" Shaoke looked at the female mage in surprise. Although he didn't know why the military had chosen this moment to halt the battles, he suppressed his doubts, knowing that the military would provide a detailed explanation upon their return.

Although all the mages were astonished—whether they had hoped for an early end to the war or not—upon hearing the military order conveyed by Mage Roman, they obediently followed her retreat. After all, none dared to pursue the retreating enemy mages alone.

The atmosphere in the group didn't lighten because of the sudden news of the war's end. Instead, each person was lost in their own thoughts.

Shaoke pulled the staff from his back and dragged it along as he followed the group. He felt as if all his strength had drained away, with no joy at hearing the war was over. Instead, a faint sense of loss filled his heart.

Over two years of wilderness warfare had accustomed him to waking up and fighting enemies every day. Lingering between life and death, savoring the moments when spells whistled past—each time he killed a mage, he felt his spellcraft had improved, bringing him closer to his goal.

"Mage Xueye, are you reluctant to leave the battlefield?" one mage suddenly broke the silence. "Actually, I'm also reluctant to leave. I don't know why, but I enjoy the feeling of killing opponents on the battlefield. What about you?"

Hearing this, the other mages slowed their pace and turned to look at Shaoke and the mage who had started the conversation. Shaoke hesitated, noticing that Mage Roman was also watching him intently, waiting for his answer.

"Loss. I'm surrounded by loss," Shaoke said slowly under Mage Roman's surprised gaze. After speaking, he noticed the other mages looking at him with strange expressions.

Unable to bear their stares, especially Roman's peculiar look, Shaoke uncomfortably pulled his cloak tighter, hoping to shield himself from their gazes.

The mage who had spoken smiled kindly at Shaoke. "Ever since I first killed someone on the battlefield, I've gradually come to enjoy this life. Perhaps... perhaps I should stay on the battlefield forever." He shook his head lightly, sighed softly, and sank into his own thoughts. He, too, couldn't stand the strange looks from his companions, though he had anticipated this reaction when he voiced his thoughts.

"Mage Xueye, why do you feel this way?" Mage Roman slowed her pace to walk alongside Shaoke. "You should go back and rest properly. Otherwise, this state won't do you any good," she said worriedly, hoping he would heed her advice.

"Mm," Shaoke nodded lightly. He knew this was a psychological issue arising from prolonged combat. Perhaps, as Mage Roman said, a long rest would help him recover.

At Mage Roman's suggestion, the mages quickened their pace and, after several days, finally returned to the fortress.

Looking at the bloodstained walls, the mages cheered softly. However, Shaoke and another mage didn't join in. They sighed quietly, their emotions complex, as they followed the group back into the fortress.

The number of mages in the city had noticeably decreased. After bidding each other farewell, they returned to their respective barracks.

Mage Roman looked at the dazed Shaoke and gently reminded him, "Let's go back too. You should rest properly. I think the military will notify us in the next few days to pay us what we're owed." She smoothed her hair and added with a low laugh, "Go back and freshen up. Tomorrow evening, I'll wait for you at the tavern."

After parting with Mage Roman, Shaoke stood at the barracks gate, feeling empty inside. Watching the mages coming and going with smiles on their faces, he suddenly felt like an outsider, detached from the fortress, silently observing everything happening there.

Returning to his room, he quickly washed up. Instead of following the female mage's advice to sleep, he habitually sat on the bed to meditate.

Points of light representing mental energy filled his mental space. The diamond array continuously absorbed the floating light points, refining and purifying them, while the vortex formed by the medication performed the same task. Shaoke knew that after a few more days of meditation and refinement, his mental energy—both in quantity and purity—would be sufficient to attempt the promotion to the Third Tier.

The situation in his mana space was almost identical to his mental space, though its range was smaller. However, under the influence of the silver light, it had still caught up with the spaces of mages at his level.

The silvery-white refinement arrays spun rapidly in both spaces. Silver light continuously fell from the diamond array, slowly merging into the meditation arrays to speed up their rotation, thereby indirectly enhancing their effects. Shaoke sometimes suspected that the ordinary refinement array he used now was not much inferior to higher-tier arrays. Coupled with the continuous intake of large amounts of medication, this allowed him to rapidly improve his strength through repeated combat stimulation.

After meditating for half the night, Shaoke stopped and began to sleep to restore his energy and physical fatigue.

Early the next morning, after breakfast, Shaoke took out his "spell record." His record was now divided into two volumes. The first volume, as thick as a person's arm, was stored in a small box in his room.

This time, he used the second volume, to which he had attached dozens of sheets of homemade parchment. This volume mostly recorded his spellcasting experiences from recent battles, with only a few notes on books he had read.

One square character after another slowly emerged under the purple quill inlaid with mithril. Wisps of mental energy flowed through the quill into the written words. Occasionally, Shaoke would also write a few Ancient Magic Script characters with a brush in the blank spaces to help preserve the writing on the pages.

Engrossed in writing, Shaoke soon forgot the loss brought by the war's end. Just as he had attached a new sheet to the end of the scroll and written a few characters, he was interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door.

A drop of lamb blood, emitting a mana fluctuation, accidentally fell on a blank spot.

Annoyed by the interruption, Shaoke sprinkled some fine white sand on the stain and said unhappily, "What is it?"

The visitor, sensing the host's displeasure and realizing he had disturbed his work, awkwardly replied, "Sorry to bother you, Mage Xueye. The military has sent a message asking you to attend a meeting at the conference hall—right now." The mage waited quietly outside for Shaoke's response.

Shaoke opened the door, took the scroll handed to him by the mage, apologized with a smile, and thanked him.

As before, he verified the authenticity of the scroll before storing it in the small box where he kept military orders. After examining the stained paper, he carefully cut it off and attached a new sheet for future writing.

After briefly organizing his belongings, Shaoke draped his cloak and headed toward the courtyard where the military headquarters was located.

It was the same large hall. Upon arrival, Shaoke noticed scattered mages approaching, apparently also summoned by the military. However, he observed that all these mages were Second Tier Mages—not a single Third Tier Mage was present.

With these questions in mind, Shaoke found an inconspicuous corner to sit in. Soon, another mage, also wrapped in a cloak, sat beside him. They exchanged glances, nodded, and silently observed their surroundings. Shaoke noticed that most mages sat alone, rarely conversing with others—at most, they exchanged nods as greetings.

As the influx of mages slowed, a Seventh Tier Mage emerged from a small door, carrying a stack of papers. Although the mages gathered here were unusually quiet, the Seventh Tier Mage still exerted a slight mental pressure on them, as he had done before.

After waiting a while longer and confirming no more mages would arrive, the Seventh Tier Mage signaled the start of the meeting.