Chapter 382 The Female Mage’s Promotion and Discussion

The head of a mage named Spell was suddenly chopped off by a knight who appeared out of nowhere. As the knight moved away, a phantom dagger emerged from the air, easily severing the knight's head. The riderless mount let out a mournful howl before suddenly exploding. Anyone nearby would be injured or even killed by the explosion, which resembled a Ninth Rank spell attack.

The battle had been raging for five days and five nights. Both sides knew that no reinforcements would arrive. After losing so many companions, neither side wanted to retreat first. Now, only a few dozen people remained on the battlefield.

As time passed, another Ninth-order being fell. The barren land became even more desolate, with large areas turning into the kind of desert Shaoke had only seen in his past life. Flames on the ground had already scorched the corpses. Over thirty Nine-rank Professionals floated weakly in the air, divided into two factions, confronting each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think we'll exhaust ourselves to death at this rate," said a summoner from the Mage Guild, slumping weakly on the back of a summoned Ninth-rank Pseudo-Dragon. "I really don't understand why we have to fight so desperately. We should be in our labs conducting research, or teaching young children in our families, or even exploring ancient ruins—who knows what treasures we might find there!" As he spoke, the summoner glanced at the necromancers on the opposing side. Five days ago, over a dozen necromancers had locked onto him, but now only three or four remained. Of course, many of his own companions had also fallen.

A harsh laugh echoed through the air. "If you hadn't come here, how would we have fought? The Saurians are the most peace-loving people, and among us, even the necromancers are the most peaceful." The necromancer looked around to see how many of his own side remained. He was satisfied to see that they still outnumbered the Mage Guild by three or four.

"Cruelty and bloodlust are the nature of the Saurians. If you love peace, I'd rather believe in the gods," said the summoner, stroking his spellbook. He was assessing what he could still summon and what type of Support Spell he could cast. Most of his attention, however, was fixed on the necromancers opposite him. They were truly detestable; their endless weakening curses had caused heavy casualties. Fortunately, over a dozen of them were dead, including several skilled in curses.

"Had enough rest?" Shaoke patted the Blue-robed Mage, signaling her to prepare for battle. "Let's not waste any more time. An early death is the best way to end this painful entanglement." With that, Shaoke began preparing a spell attack. His target now was the Law Mage who had been dueling with the Glory Knight. If possible, he wanted to learn some techniques about law spells from him.

The battle resumed. After days of relentless fighting, both sides were too exhausted for frantic attacks. They now conservatively exchanged spells and Aura to attack and intercept. The Blue-robed Mage did not join the fight; she carefully took cover behind the Glory Knight and Shaoke, rapidly recovering. Likewise, some enemy mages, protected by their companions, did not attack but began to rest.

The most intense fighting now centered around the resting mages. A barrage of spells was directed at them. The Space Mage on Shaoke's side even attempted to charge forward, but was stopped by powerful rulers on both sides. Now, fewer than thirty remained on each side; they could afford no more losses. Of course, this was also because the time for a sudden attack had not yet come.

The High-rank Mages were recovering slowly. After nearly half a magic hour, they continued casting low-powered attacks to harass the enemy. Suddenly, the resting Blue-robed Mage sent a message to Shaoke and the Glory Knight, telling them that some turbulence in her Meditation space had calmed, allowing her to unleash powerful attacks again. At that moment, Shaoke used a special technique to overdraw the potential of his meditation space, then Blinked into the midst of the Mage Guild. At the same time, the female warrior wielding the horn, with the help of a Space Mage, also appeared among the enemy.

In the same way, Wanderers appeared among the Mage Guild's forces. They also dispatched three professionals to Blink next to the resting mages, including the Blue-robed Mage, intending to overdraw their power to kill those recovering. As for the consequences of overdrawing, no one considered it now—it was still better than death.

The moment Shaoke appeared among the Mage Guild, he felt immense pressure. A gaunt old man chanted rapidly, and golden magic scripts flew from his mouth, swirling around Shaoke. He is a Word Mage, Shaoke quickly judged. With no time to worry, a pre-prepared attack spell flew toward a mage who was meditating nearby. This spell was a space-type single-target attack. Upon hitting the enemy, it would teleport them into spatial turbulence, never to return to this continent.

Just as Shaoke attacked, a warrior beside him threw a flail, striking Shaoke heavily. Just as Shaoke was hit, the female warrior with the horn, aided by the Space Mage, appeared beside him. She grabbed him and immediately blew the horn. Protected by a golden ripple, they quickly flew outward. At that moment, Shaoke's spell struck the mage who had forcibly withdrawn from meditation. That mage, however, spent some pages from his spellbook to break free from the spell and avoided being transported away.

When Shaoke and the warrior returned to their own ranks, they encountered the Mage Guild members also fleeing back to their lines. The female warrior laughed coldly, enlarged her horn, and swung it at a mage. But her attack was intercepted by another. Then, both sides retreated to their own camps without further fighting.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think we should call it a day," said the Word Mage from the Mage Guild, after placing numerous magic scripts around their formation. He panted slightly. "Now no one can defeat the other. We'll continue this another day." He pointed at Shaoke and his group. Both sides' skirmishers had been wounded but none had died—those Nine-rank Professionals who survived this long all had special means to avoid being killed. "This kind of fighting is meaningless now."

The battlefield fell silent. Finally, the Blue-robed Mage thought for a moment and nodded. Although the Glory Knight wanted to say something, the Blue-robed Female Mage stopped him. "You leave first. We'll collect the spoils," the Female Mage said to the gaunt old man.

"These are not spoils," the gaunt Word Mage shook his head. There were nearly two hundred golden orbs floating in the air, each belonging to a fallen Nine-rank Professional. "These are just relics of our comrades. Let's each take what belongs to our side, shall we?" The Word Mage looked somewhat sorrowful, but he straightened himself and stared calmly at the Blue-robed Mage.

"Agree with them," Shaoke frowned. Although the chain warrior's attack hadn't pierced his two Defensive Spells, the powerful shock had still injured his body. More importantly, he noticed everyone's mental energy was unstable. If they delayed any longer, they might lose the ability to perform Spellcasting due to their meditation spaces rupturing, without the enemy needing to attack.

After a brief negotiation, both sides dispatched a Space Mage to collect the golden orbs belonging to their own side. Everything went smoothly, with no incidents. Shaoke also took the opportunity to retrieve the petrified statue he had made. Of course, no one stopped him—it was his own trophy. The Mage Guild people glared at him angrily, but they dared not fight him alone. The Death Will spell was too powerful; even if it didn't turn them to stone, a momentary pause could mean death. So they said nothing. When everything was done, both sides ignored the flames and earth fissures below and flew slowly in opposite directions.

"This will keep us safer," said one of the two Space Mages in their group. The Space Mage from the Blue Feather Empire suddenly spat blood, the result of forcefully using spells to teleport the female warrior. The other Space Mage glanced helplessly at him and handed him a handful of pills. "That's all I have. Use them for now. There'll be better ones back at the station," he said, adding, "Good thing I always carry some low-grade medicine for the youngsters, or you'd be worse off."

The other Space Mage gave him a dismissive look. Low-grade medicine had almost no effect on Ninth-rank Professionals; it was better to meditate. The first Space Mage realized his mistake and dropped the pills. Then he took out a one-time teleportation array. This could directly send them to the Hebrew camp. With the two Space Mages' spells, Shaoke and the others instantly returned to the Hebrew camp, countless miles away. Only the broken stone slab slowly melted and vanished into dust.

Shaoke and his party did not return to the palace via the teleportation array; instead, they appeared on a teleportation circle inside the palace. Immediately, seven or eight Eighth-order Practitioners surrounded them, but quickly identified them and brought a large quantity of precious medicine.

Without even asking why they had appeared here, Shaoke and the others identified the medicine and began to recover. After more than a week without any rest, they were utterly exhausted.

After consuming the precious fruits, Shaoke regained consciousness after an unknown amount of time. His meditation space was still not fully recovered, but it was now stable. The remaining repairs would take a long time. By that time, the Blue-robed Mage and the others, having stabilized their own conditions, stopped recovering. They had to report what happened to the organizers here and ask why they had not received reinforcements.

Led by an Eighth-order Practitioner, they entered the great hall. The scene there was grim. Nearly a thousand Ninth-rank Professionals now sat, with only a few hundred left—most meditating cross-legged to recover. Many were missing body parts, looking utterly wretched. Occasionally, one or two Clerics stood up to aid the wounded, but there were very few Clerics, and none were Ninth-rank.

"Welcome back," the female ruler of the Hebrews nodded to the Blue-robed Mage and motioned for them to sit. "We had a battle here, so we couldn't send anyone to support you."

"Can you tell us in detail?" the Blue-robed Mage asked calmly, as if she hadn't seen the situation, but she wanted the ruler to explain personally. She felt she owed it to the fallen comrades.

"After you left, the Mage Guild launched a massive attack on us," the female ruler explained calmly. The battle had just ended not long ago. Otherwise, Shaoke wondered if the Mage Guild members they encountered would have surrounded them. After a detailed explanation, the Blue-robed Mage proposed leaving to return to their own camp. The female ruler nodded and saw Shaoke and the other three off. She watched the teleportation array flare up and then went back to the hall to rest. She had also been heavily injured in the recent fight.

When Shaoke and the others returned, all professionals above Eighth Tier in the camp gathered in the giant mage tower. At that time, only twelve of the original twenty Ninth-rank Professionals of the Blue Feather Empire remained—eight had fallen. The Blue-robed Mage asked those who had stayed behind what had happened.

It turned out that when the battle at the Hebrew camp began, all those stationed here had also joined the fight, resulting in casualties. Mage Meigan, who had now advanced to Ninth-rank Professional, added weakly: "With three or four thousand Ninth-order beings fighting, if we hadn't been in the rear, casualties would have been worse." He embraced his old friend, the Ninth-rank Space Mage, and added: "Nearly a thousand Ninth-order beings have fallen. You must have never walked outside the palace—the giant mountain is completely gone." He sighed, as if mourning the dead.

"That doesn't concern us, as long as our camp is safe," said Shaoke, who had just consumed another fruit that slowly repaired spatial cracks. "How's your family now?" He thought of his own family, which had no descendants yet, and asked the mage, whose family had been destroyed, for advice on building a family. He also intended to change the subject.

Mage Meigan shook his head. "Only I am left. Progress has been slow, but I believe my family will be truly rebuilt in over a hundred years."

Shaoke said nothing more, only nodded and left early. The Blue-robed Female Mage did not stop him, letting him go.

Back in his own mage tower, Mage Roman and the White-robed Cleric welcomed him. Lan Wei'er was still in deep meditation and did not come out. Shaoke told them in detail about the battle, though he omitted his injuries. But both Roman and the White-robed Cleric noticed. Without a word, the Cleric began treating him.

A golden light slowly merged into the mage's body. In his meditation, he saw golden rays gradually repairing the cracks. Some of the light even merged into his mental power, helping to mend the cracks more quickly than he could alone. After several such treatments, the White-robed Cleric sat down exhausted to recover. She had consumed a great deal of energy.

Shaoke did not keep the healing to himself. He invited the Blue-robed Mage to receive the same treatment from the White-robed Cleric. The other professionals declined, saying they should first restore a few people to full strength in case an accident required a fully capable Spellcaster to buy time.

Thus, over a month passed. Only Shaoke and Mage Roman fully recovered. The Cleric continued treating others. After recovering, Mage Roman left again for the Hebrew camp, as all the rulers had to meet to discuss countermeasures against the Mage Guild. Shaoke paid no attention to these affairs; he focused entirely on his experiments. He believed that if his experiments succeeded, he wouldn't have been so vulnerable in the last battle.

One day, after spending time with his two female spellcasters, Shaoke returned to his laboratory. There, he took out nearly a hundred black statues—his spoils from the previous battle. Most of the statues were covered with strange magic scripts.

This time, he simply soaked the statues in elemental essence, then ground them into powder, which he carefully sprinkled over the statues with runes. Each time he added a bit of powder mixed with golden light, the magic scripts on the statues grew more numerous or deeper. This process continued for several months until the powder was used up. During this time, the desolate Luanyun Empire fell into an eerie calm.

According to news brought back by the Blue-robed Mage, after the previous battle, the Mage Guild had retreated to their camps, no longer as arrogant as before. Most Wanderers Alliances had been forced to join the massive Wanderer Alliance organization.

Although the Mage Guild had abandoned their arrogance, the Wanderers Alliances that had participated in the previous battle would not let them go. They organized patrols across the desolate land, specifically hunting non-Alliance members. Any empire, family, or alliance that wished to settle here had to join the Wanderer Alliance, or be annihilated. Under this relentless pressure, Mage Guild professionals hardly dared to leave their camps alone, as hundreds of Ninth-rank Professionals often patrolled outside.

Even if some mages tried to leave via teleportation arrays, they would be detected by Star Mages and relentlessly hunted. This had continued for three or four months.

One day, after applying the last statue powder, Shaoke returned to his room to rest. When Mage Roman learned of this, she came to lie quietly beside him, enjoying the feeling.

"I want Lan Wei'er to advance to a Star Mage," the Blue-robed Mage said calmly to Shaoke. "This type of mage is extremely powerful in attack, and I think it suits her." She looked up at him, waiting for his response.

"As long as she's willing, I'll support whatever she chooses," Shaoke kissed the female mage's forehead. It had been a long time since he had been intimate with her, and now he felt the urge. Moreover, to establish a family, he must have his own bloodline. What he needed to do now was to pass on his lineage.