The Reaction on the Other Side

Time rewound to several minutes earlier.

At the other end of the abandoned plane lay the joint landing zone of the Chaos Cult and the Tower of Silence.

The terrain here was no different from that on Noren Workshop's side—equally gray-white and deathly still, equally flat and desolate.

The difference was that far fewer wizards had entered and landed here first, only around a thousand.

Yet the energy fluctuations emanating from those thousand were even more terrifying than those of an army of ten thousand.

Because every one of those thousand wizards was a high-level wizard.

The auras of the one hundred and twenty-seven standing in the core area were even deeper than an abyssal sea. They were a group of Level 7 Wizards.

They were the vanguard, the elite, the special assault force tasked with carrying out the most crucial decapitation missions before the main army arrived.

The moment they landed, the thousand swiftly split into three groups.

Around three hundred immediately spread toward the perimeter, took to the air, and deployed warning barriers.

Holding all manner of detection Wizard Artifacts, they swept the distant horizon with cold eyes, guarding against any possible ambush.

Another three hundred, led by a hundred Level 7 Fate Wizards, began casting Fate School sorcery in an attempt to seize the upper ground in information.

The remaining three hundred were all wizards specializing in curses.

They swiftly formed three concentric circles, sat cross-legged, and took out various casting mediums from their storage spaces.

Three hundred curse wizards, all at least Level 6, began chanting at once.

The sound belonged to no known language. It was a blend of shrill scraping noises, deep guttural tones, and echoes that seemed to rise from the abyss.

The air warped around them, the light dimmed, and even space