Chapter 341: Abnormal and Unpredictable

On an apparently ordinary planet in the universe — medium-sized, with a modest aura. Its humanoid inhabitants lived a difficult and simple life, constantly suffering attacks from the Sorcerers.

No one could believe it at first. But that seemingly unremarkable planet hid a unique natural treasure deep beneath its surface, one that could only be found every few centuries.

That was one of the extremely important locations protected by the Ironweald Sect.

*WOOOOOSH!*

Suddenly, over an open field surrounded by valleys and mountains, a colossal black mist emerged directly from the void.

It was corruption!

The mist distorted the space around it, swallowing an area half a kilometer wide. It began expanding rapidly, but...

Countless figures immediately appeared out of nowhere. They were thousands of Mages and Sages, who surrounded the entire region and used a mystical inscription to contain the spread of that corruption.

A multicolored dome appeared.

There was no commotion. The mist stabilized instantly, remaining contained where it was.

A woman snorted coldly. It was Mishnar.

"Just leave the inscription runes around it and regroup. They won’t try to advance again for now. We can’t invade this domain, but they won’t make us wait long. The attack is about to begin!"

At her command, everyone nodded and gathered together.

There were nearly 100,000 combatants in total. Among them, around a thousand were Elders — including several Elder Leaders — all at most at the first level of the Philosopher Sage Rank.

The other 99,000 wore a variety of different outfits. They were an army of Mages and Sages from various sects across the eastern and western regions of the Divine Plane.

Realizing that the situation was spiraling out of control and far exceeding all expectations, Elder Central had requested help from several smaller sects allied with the Ironweald Sect.

Since the Sorcerers sometimes left the southern region and caused trouble in the east and west, these sects were allies that could be summoned in times of need.

But in the end, the main strength of this battle would come from Priam’s army. The thousand Philosopher Sages who had been sent would be responsible exclusively for containing the enemy Philosopher-level Sorcerers, while the rest of the troops would deal with the lower-ranking opponents.

Until Priam arrived, Mishnar was in command, since she was the Elder Leader of his 11th Branch.

The corruption mist, meanwhile, was a well-known phenomenon among the more powerful beings: a high-level power of the Sorcerers capable of distorting space-time. In short, it functioned like a spatial portal for rapidly transporting their troops.

Attacking from a distance was useless. If someone from outside tried to enter, they would be swallowed by the corruption and contaminated. In other words, the moment it appeared, the Mages and Sages could only seal its expansion and wait for the enemy troops to emerge.

Mishnar turned toward everyone behind her.

"Remember: when the battle begins, everyone must obey Priam as the commander. You are an army formed at the last minute, coming from completely different places, so following his orders is essential for us to win."

Everyone promptly obeyed. However, deep down, their apprehension was immense.

It was already clear that the Sorcerers possessed a terrifying number of soldiers. Even though they couldn’t send more than 300,000, their average individual strength tended to be terrifying.

In this world, there was an almost universally accepted rule: the more people of average ability were gathered together and forced to compete for resources, the more extraordinary figures would emerge. The average ones tended to rise, while those already above average tended to become even more incredible.

It was a form of natural selection, where controlled conflicts forged increasingly powerful combatants.

With so many Sorcerers in this generation, countless youths with terrifying talent had emerged. In other words, among those 300,000 sent here, the proportion of above-average figures would be enormous.

*BUZZ*

Suddenly, coming from within the corruption mist, everyone felt the space vibrate.

"The Sorcerers are coming!"

Someone shouted an alarm. At the center of the mist, thousands of pairs of pulsating eyes appeared. The incredible power emanating from them could be felt clearly.

All those figures possessed a savage aura, as if they were demons that had crawled out from the depths of hell.

At the front were the Elder-level Sorcerers. They seemed to be roughly equal in number to the Elders sent by the sects.

A figure approached the edge of the mist, becoming visible to everyone. It was an extremely tall old man dressed in black, probably over two meters tall. However, his physique was basically skin and bones.

He looked like a skeleton covered by a thin layer of skin, with practically no flesh or blood.

Even so, his aura was incredibly terrifying. Even from a distance, simply looking at him caused anyone’s soul to feel a deep pain.

That skeletal old man let out an eerie laugh. "So, little brat Mishnar, you’re still not dead... Good, good!"

Despite the distance, his voice clearly echoed in everyone’s ears.

However, the sound was like needles piercing their eardrums, as if even his voice itself possessed offensive power.

"Old man Shakwi, if an old bastard like you is still alive, how could I possibly die?" Mishnar replied coldly.

The two were old rivals who had fought countless times in the past. Mishnar had nearly died to him on several occasions, until her power increased to the point where the two began ending their fights in stalemates. Currently, their levels were extremely similar, making it difficult for either of them to overpower the other.

"Hehe, brat, this time won’t be the same. I think you’ll probably die soon. I can already see you spitting blood from rage until you die, hehehe..." Shakwi let out a bizarre laugh that made everyone around them shudder.

Mishnar sneered. "Didn’t you already tell me something similar in the past? And yet, here I am. Your disciples may be powerful, but they’re nothing more than shameless maniacs who do whatever they please. Few of them survive for long. Although many of ours end up dying or getting injured in our battles, in the end, the result is the same. Your little boast, as always, is premature and foolish."

The old man simply chuckled softly without saying anything else.

For some reason, his silence made Mishnar uneasy. Her old adversary was far too calm, which was rather strange.

*RUMBLE!*

The skies suddenly darkened, covering the entire area in a dense shadow. Black clouds swallowed the entire planet, while the sound of lightning rumbling overhead echoed without stopping.

This was the classic omen created by the Sorcerers: the battle was about to begin!

"Our people have arrived!"

Someone exclaimed. Thousands of youths descended from the sky, landing near the 100,000 combatants.

They all approached with calm, orderly steps.

At the front, a short and serene figure appeared.

"Priam..."

The people from the 11th Branch murmured his name.

In everyone’s minds, memories flashed of when they had watched his entrance test into the sect, followed by his chaotic actions. Now... he acted with the same indifference as always, but conveyed an even greater sense of superiority toward everything around him.

"Wait... Is this correct?" A Sage from one of the allied sects murmured incredulously.

All these allies had heard the reports about the two armies of the Ironweald Sect. The army led by Priam had started with a little over 150,000 members, while the army of the Elders numbered 7,000.

However, after half a dozen battles, the Elders’ forces had already lost 40% of their numbers.

In contrast... Priam’s contingent of disciples had remained almost completely untouched. Fewer than a thousand people had died!

Mishnar looked at that serene figure and couldn’t help but clench her fists. Even though she already knew what the report said, seeing the results with her own eyes was shocking. Not only because of the low casualties, but because all the youths there now looked like a solid unit, exuding sharp and serious auras.

What the hell had Priam and his vice-leader done? Why was everything around him so abnormal and unpredictable?

The world grew even darker. The lightning became even more thunderous. The planet’s very atmosphere seemed to come to a standstill.

To everyone who wasn’t used to this, having come from other regions, it felt like they had been sent straight into hell. Terror ignited in their chests.

Even after Priam’s troops arrived, the disciples from the other sects held their weapons with trembling hands.

Their morale was completely crushed. Some disciples were even visibly paralyzed with terror.

The leaders of those troops went to report to Priam. They knew that once the battle began, they would be completely dependent on him. His army was the true fighting force: in total, there would be 250,000 of them against 300,000 extremely high-level enemies.

This became even more obvious when they observed the contrast with the newcomers. Priam’s troops were like unsheathed swords — imposing and inspiring involuntary awe in everyone else.

Dandara sighed when she saw the contingent from the other sects. They might have talent, but they had been raised in a greenhouse. Even now, they were wavering. It meant they had never truly faced death.

This was the standard of power in the other regions of the Divine Plane, with the exception of the North. The Mages there lived in almost absolute peace and tranquility. In the South, although resources and safety were lacking, everyone was battle-hardened and knew how to defend themselves.

However, the confrontation was imminent, and there was no time for complaints. They needed to use them as efficiently as possible.

*BOOOM!*

Only ten minutes had passed since the black mist arrived.

Suddenly, an explosive boom tore through the air. The mist violently dispersed in every direction, infecting the air with corruption.

Then, a horde of Sorcerers emerged like a devastating tide from the other side.

Upon seeing those figures... even Priam’s pupils contracted.

As for Mishnar and the most experienced veterans, their eyes widened in utter shock.