"Slaughterhouse War?"
The old man in black muttered softly. At this moment, not only Merlin, but many other nobles and Count Sailin also turned their eyes toward him.
Only then did they remember that when it came to grand scenes, Great Mage Hill was truly well-traveled. After all, he had participated in the terrifying battlefield known as the "Slaughterhouse." Few wars could compare to the brutality of the Slaughterhouse War.
The old man in black looked at the countless soldiers below the city walls, seeming to sink into his memories. He slowly said, "The Slaughterhouse War was cruel. Even those powerful Spellcasters capable of destroying military fortresses alone—no one knew how many had fallen. Spellcasters who could destroy military fortresses were at least Fourth-level Spellcasters. That was the true scene of the Slaughterhouse in the later stages of the war. There were practically no soldiers left, only powerful Spellcasters."
"What I'm describing is the later stage of the war. Those powerful Spellcasters, whose every movement carried tremendous force and whose Spells could kill or wound tens of thousands of ordinary people, slaughtered one another. No one knew how many powerful Spellcasters died."
"What about the early stages of the war? What did those low-level Spellcasters do?"
Merlin continued to press him.
"The early stages? Before those powerful Spellcasters intervened, some low-level Spellcasters would mingle among the vast armies alongside the soldiers, waiting for chances to kill the enemy commanders. But because low-level Spellcasters' Spells were not very powerful, they could handle hundreds or even a thousand ordinary soldiers. However, when faced with tens of thousands of ordinary soldiers and a barrage of crossbow bolts, many low-level Spellcasters died at the hands of ordinary people."
The old man in black shook his head slightly, a trace of regret showing on his