Better to Be Simple and Brutal Than to Study Hard

Chthon's invasion came without a sound. When Kamar-Taj's mages opened their eyes that morning, they had yet to receive news of Master Ancient One's "death" before they were stunned by the dense crimson fog before them.

The blood mist shrouded the very center of the sanctuary. It neither spread nor dispersed, merely thickening and growing denser at a visible rate, becoming as viscous as blood plasma about to congeal.

The mist did not directly harm the mages, but anyone who entered it swiftly lost their sense of direction and gradually became exhausted. Given more time, they would grow manic, terrified, and even lose their minds in hysterics.

Fortunately, Wong, who had remained behind to guard the sanctuary, had always been steady and dependable. The moment he noticed something was wrong, he used his sling ring ropes to drag out those who had lost control. Yet even after leaving the blood mist, they continued to flail wildly or lash out at one another, fighting life-and-death battles against the air before them.

Even so, those who lost their minds did not suffer irreversible harm. They merely collapsed unconscious once their magical power or physical strength was exhausted.

When Xiang Qian returned to Kamar-Taj, he found a group of mages halted before the blood mist, with a row of unconscious fellow disciples lying on the ground. Wong was sweating anxiously and at a complete loss, but upon seeing Xiang Qian, he looked as though he had found someone to dump the blame on.

"Your woman is going crazy in there. Hurry up and deal with it."

Following the moral principles of a playboy, Xiang Qian felt it necessary to clear the young lady's name. "She's not my woman yet. At least, not for now."

"Isn't that only a matter of time?" Old Wong