The night grew deeper. Twelve straight hours of travel had left many people utterly exhausted. Even the warriors, whose physical abilities far exceeded those of ordinary people, showed signs of fatigue. A caravan guard's job was not simply to follow the caravan; scouting, fighting, and keeping watch along the way were all mentally draining. Under normal circumstances, they traveled for less than six hours a day. But the mysterious mistress had not ordered them to stop, so everyone could only continue onward, even though quite a few had begun to complain.
Soren was very quiet in the darkness.
His figure was slightly hazy, as though the night itself had wrapped around him.
The road ahead was getting worse and worse.
They had traveled far from Amber City, and these roads had not seen travelers for a long time. Only when they came within roughly fifty kilometers of the next city would the roads gradually improve, where traces of human activity became more frequent. The mysterious woman looked very cautious. She did not return to the large carriage, instead standing atop it and watching the road ahead. From time to time, she glanced back toward Amber City.
Suddenly.
Her delicate brows furrowed as she focused on the distance. With a cold snort, she said, "You actually dared use a Prophecy Spell on me!" A flash of cold light appeared.
A dark-gold card emerged at the mysterious woman's fingertips. Its back bore a Nine-Pointed Star Array, while the front vaguely revealed the outline of a crown.
Soren's eyesight was not good enough to see it clearly.
In an instant.
Even the stars in the sky seemed to dim. The mysterious woman's face held the anger of someone who had been provoked as she uttered a string of strange syllables. The air around them seemed to freeze. The caravan guards nearby instinctively gathered around her, ignoring even the merchants and goods close by. Clearly, in their hearts, the safety of this mysterious woman mattered most. A Wizard was at her most vulnerable while casting a Spell, and no one could be allowed near her then.
"Su... au... so..."
Spell incantations consisted of strange monosyllables and polysyllables. Unlike languages used for ordinary communication, these sounds were difficult to produce without specialized training.
A brilliant light appeared.
The mysterious woman curled her lips in a cold smile and slowly withdrew the card. With a slightly tired wave of her hand, she said, "It's safe now."
"There's a lake ahead. We'll make camp there." ...
Amber City.
In the mysterious Basement, the Red-Robe Priest standing atop the altar suddenly shuddered. Then he spat out a mouthful of blood, his face turning ashen as he muttered, "The prophecy failed!"
"Someone interfered with my Prophecy Spell."
"The other party may be a Wizard close to Legendary! Godsbane's aura has been concealed by him!"
"Wake the Dread Knights immediately!"
"Godsbane will awaken amid the aura of despair and Fear. At that time, my lord's will can descend upon him."
"Begin the Sacrificial Ritual now."
Fallen prayers echoed through the dark Basement. Followers dressed in black robes slit the throats of the sacrifices with Daggers. Blood flowed along the eerie Magic Circle, seeping bit by bit into the surrounding Marble Coffins. Fluctuations of Necrotic Energy began to spread. The Destructive Aura from the Abyss enveloped the area. One Marble Coffin after another turned to dust amid the raging Energy Storm. Accompanied by the heavy clang of armor, eight Dread Knights encased in pitch-black heavy plate armor rose to their feet.
They had blood-red pupils, as though flames burned within them. From the moment they awakened, merciless Slaughter had already filled the Basement.
The Dread Knights drew their heavy Vorpal Swords and began slaughtering the Evil God's followers in the Basement.
Blood and limbs flew everywhere!
The Red-Robe Priest seemed not to have expected such a thing to happen. He went rigid and collapsed limply atop the altar.
A shrill neigh rang out.
Blood gathered amid language that blasphemed the deities. The Dread Knights dropped to one knee and drove their black Vorpal Swords into the Magic Circle. Then, amid fiercely burning Flame, Nightmares charged out from the depths of the Blood-Red Void!
Without a word.
The Dread Knights mounted their steeds. Wraith silhouettes could be seen upon their mottled black cloaks. Flame blazed beneath the hooves of the Nightmares. Raising their Vorpal Swords, they crashed directly into the Basement wall, which was over two meters thick.
Rumble!
The muted sound of collapse and cracking echoed.
The Nightmares stepped through the air, leaving trails of Flame behind them as they smashed through the Basement walls and charged all the way to the surface.
Dread Knight. Challenge Rating 16, CR 24, Superior Undead life. Highest attribute 25, lowest attribute 15, total attributes 95–110. Special Feats: Vorpal Sword, Advanced Charge, Nightmare Mount, Animate Dead, Blasphemy, Fear Aura, Death Aura, Abyss Knight, Destruction Attack, Otherworldly Cleave, Sword Momentum, Sword Momentum, Sword Momentum. Challenge Difficulty: A+.
Nightmare. Challenge Rating 12, CR 18, Large Outsider. Highest attribute 21, lowest attribute 12, total attributes 90–100. Special Feats: Flaming Hooves, Advanced Charge, Darkvision, Flying Run, Powerful Charge, Demonic Resistance, Outsider. Challenge Difficulty: A-.
The night was very quiet.
After a full day of travel, everyone could not help cheering when they reached the campsite.
They could finally rest.
Though it was already close to dawn, the workers still hurried to fetch water and start fires, placing food into large pots to simmer. They had eaten dry rations all day and now only wanted a bowl of hot soup before getting a good night's sleep. The caravan guards still did not dare relax their vigilance. They began arranging night watches and setting up simple warning lines. Water sources were places where beasts gathered, and under normal circumstances, no one should camp here. But since it was the mistress's arrangement, they could only obey.
There were only two people in the group whose expressions were uneasy. One was Soren. He had not expected the mysterious woman to be a Witch with a class level above 16, someone with one foot already in the Legendary Domain. There were not many Witches like that in all of the North. At the very least, she would be a member of the Witches' Council, with a status comparable to that of a minor City Lord in the Southern Duchy.
There was no reason for such a distinguished mage to come out and escort a caravan.
In an ordinary Northern Caravan, even if there was a Witch, her class level would not exceed 12.
Unless she had some special mission!
If she truly carried some special task, then Soren and Vivian traveling with the caravan might not be a good thing.
They could very likely become entangled in some other dangerous incident.
The other person with an uneasy expression was the mysterious caravan mistress. Her gaze remained fixed on the distance, toward Amber City, as though something terrible had happened there. A faint trace of worry showed on her face.
Time passed bit by bit.
The workers prepared food for the middle of the night, and the caravan guards began eating in shifts. Soren was also given a serving of fragrant thick soup.
Perhaps she had truly been exhausted today. The little girl ate quickly, and a trace of sleepiness appeared on her delicate face.
Soren did not eat.
He first set up the camp tent, then scattered some insect-repelling powder around it. Only after that did he carry the drowsy Vivian inside.
But just as Soren was preparing to eat something.
He suddenly felt a lingering dread and sharply raised his head toward Amber City. In an instant, he drew his Scimitar and raced toward a nearby hillside.
The mysterious caravan mistress reached it before him.
In the distance.
The horizon was a sea of crimson!
It looked as though a vast bank of fiery clouds had suddenly appeared in the middle of the night.
At this moment.
They were already over a hundred li from Amber City and could not see how far the fiery clouds extended, but both of them knew that this had likely happened at Amber City.
Ninth-Circle Spell!
--Meteor Swarm!!!
This was not Soren's first time seeing this Spell used, but when he saw it again, he still could not help feeling shaken.
It was one of the easiest Epic Spells to learn.
It required a Wizard to reach class level 20. Professionals had once calculated its destructive power as equivalent to eight Tomahawk missiles conducting concentrated bombardment on targets within a five-kilometer radius. A Legendary Warrior had once joked that anyone who could withstand this Spell's attack could withstand the blanket bombardment of Air-to-Ground Missiles in the real world.
Among all classes.
Only Warriors and Barbarians in the Legendary Domain probably dared claim they could withstand a Ninth-Circle Spell head-on.
The first Warrior to advance to Legendary had once recorded a video of himself bathing in Magma, shocking countless people!
Warriors, once considered the most miserable class, finally entered a period of explosive glory.
Unfortunately.
Too few Warriors survived long enough to enter the Legendary Domain.
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