Nine people stood on a hillside, sizing one another up.
The silence lasted several seconds before a middle-aged wizard in a dark blue robe spoke.
"Looks like everyone chose this place." His voice was calm as his gaze swept across their faces. "I hadn't expected so many people to choose it."
"Because they may have chosen more obvious targets," a young witch said, her voice carrying a coolly analytical edge. "The anomaly at this point kills people slowly. It isn't the violent sort that destroys a city from the outset. Many people may think an anomaly this 'mild' isn't worth much."
"Not worth much?" A burly wizard gave a scornful snort. "Do you really judge the value of this kind of rule-bound creature by how fast it kills?"
The young witch glanced at him without arguing, merely saying blandly, "I'm only analyzing other people's thinking. It doesn't represent my own view."
Benjamin stood at the edge of the group and did not rush to join the conversation.
He found that the atmosphere among these wizards was not as tense and drawn as swords as he had expected, but neither was it particularly warm. They were more like a group of coworkers cobbled together at the last minute, testing one another before officially starting work.
No one who had managed to secure a slot was a fool.
They all understood that on this battlefield, where output levels were restricted and large-scale destruction was forbidden, fighting alone was not necessarily the best solution.
Especially when facing an anomaly with unknown traits, one more person meant one more safeguard.
As the one with the strongest mental fluctuations, the middle-aged wizard in the dark blue robe seemed to have become the temporary organizer.
He spoke again. "Since everyone is here, I suggest we first