Murphy froze for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"The ancestor, the city-builder—Lady Miriam. In the legends, her power was like that of a god. Her magic might be able to meet the requirements for magical counterforce."
"But... after all these years, the magic in her remains should have dissipated long ago..." Murphy said.
"No, not her remains." Maxim shook his head. "You were appointed by the empress as the protector shaman, so you have the right to know this. The ancestor may not have died. She is merely sleeping."
Murphy was stunned. "What did you say?"
"Legend says that the ancestor, Lady Miriam, has always been alive," Maxim said. "She is a prophet. According to the records, over the past thousand-plus years, she has occasionally awakened and given us guidance."
The Ancestral Mausoleum.
It was a vast structure built inside the mountain, and at its entrance lay a jungle—the Holy Grove.
At this moment, several teams of wizards were fighting the invaders within the Holy Grove.
And they soon discovered what was unusual about their enemies.
"Captain, these knights can resist magic!" an Arkaim battle wizard reported in shock. "Our spells have no effect on them!"
"Their armor is made from dragonhide!" another said. "Use elemental spells to attack indirectly—earth spikes, wind blades, or fire. Their armor can't block formed elements!"
"Or you can use this." Suddenly, the figure of a man appeared above the wizards, carrying a strange black-iron creation in his hands.
The next instant, with a deafening roar, that terrifying creation spat tongues of flame. Ahead of where it was aimed, dense bullets poured down like a storm of rain, but every raindrop could bring up a spray of blood.
The dragonhide armor on the pitch-black knights was pierced by the torrent of steel, their