A Father's Love Is Like a Mountain

The pupils of the four survivors suddenly contracted. As that mental force fluctuation, like a blazing sun, swept over them, it made them seem incomparably small.

"Soul Sublimation—the mark of a Formal Wizard. Impossible, absolutely impossible. According to the intelligence provided by the academy, a Formal Wizard absolutely shouldn't have appeared on this mission."

Ed's face was pale, his eyes vacant as he muttered to himself.

Herid stared dumbfoundedly at the wizard before him, whose pressure left him too afraid to move. He kept mumbling that they were doomed...

Although Wilton's face had gone pale, he still stood firmly in front of Herid.

Dago desperately racked his brain, analyzing where their path to survival might lie.

The blood-red robe—right, the Formal Wizard who had been bombarded by the academy headmaster's airship on the night the northern part of the city fell. After that kind of assault, there was no way he could have remained unscathed.

It was even possible that the academy had issued this mission precisely to locate the blood-robed wizard's place of recovery by sacrificing several squads.

All they had to do was hold on. The academy would definitely send reinforcements—but would they be able to wait that long?

Dago thought in despair.

There was no plan... At this moment, facing the Formal Wizard before him, even a gap of only half a step was like an uncrossable chasm.

"Yes, that expression. It is my favorite expression—mine, Flax's, a councilor of the Duskblood Council."

Flax's faint words rang out like echoes from hell. He slightly raised the Spine Wand and smashed it against the ground, making the image of the Blood Leeches above his head become a little more solid.

The blood on Third Street began to boil, gradually transforming into countless wriggling Blood Leeches that surged toward