Chapter 207: Guild War [ 4 ]

The battlefield had long ceased to resemble a plaza or even the front of a guild; it had morphed into a shattered war zone, carved from violence, desperation, and an indomitable will.

What once were orderly stone pathways and merchant stalls lay in ruins, transformed into jagged trenches with cracks spiderwebbing across the ground from repeated heavy impacts.

Nearby structures had crumbled inward, their facades ripped apart by shockwaves, rooftops half-shattered as bodies crashed through them mid-fight.

Dust hung thick in the air like a suffocating fog, mingling with the metallic scent of blood and the sharp tang of burned stone.

Everywhere one looked, figures clashed, Adventurers and black-clad knights engaged in chaotic exchanges where discipline met improvisation and survival instinct collided with calculated force.

Though the tide of battle began to stabilize, it was not in a way either side would have wished. The conflict had devolved into a grinding war of attrition. Bodies littered the plaza, some groaning softly, others unmoving, blood pooling into the cracks of broken earth.

Despite their lack of uniform strategy, Adventurers fought with a ferocity rooted in something deeper than mere orders. This place was theirs, the Guild, this district, a fragile opportunity carved out from years of oppression that they refused to surrender quietly. Every clash echoed their defiance.

Meanwhile, the black-clad knights pressed forward with relentless precision. Their movements were cold and calculated; formations tightened and loosened like a living machine designed solely for elimination. Neither side yielded easily.

Above them all hummed the golden barrier, its massive runic patterns pulsing faintly as it contained the escalating power below. Each shockwave slammed against it and rippled outward like water disturbed by falling stones.

From afar, the battlefield resembled a storm trapped within a cage, flashes of steel clashing against bursts of aura while bodies darted across the fractured terrain like lightning.

And amidst this chaos stood Sage. His feet were firmly planted on broken stone, boots anchored amid dust and blood. His mage staff, long and etched with faint runic lines, rested in his grip as he scanned the battlefield with narrowed eyes; his posture composed despite surrounding turmoil.

Sweat trickled down his temple, not from fear but concentration, as he breathed steadily as if standing in a quiet chamber rather than a war-torn plaza.

The moment battle erupted, he shifted entirely into combat mode and hadn’t stopped since.

Magic circles flared to life around him one after another, some beneath his feet while others hovered midair or flickered just inches above charging enemies. Fire surged outward alongside wind and lightning; each spell was shaped and launched with an instinctive precision that bordered on supernatural ability.

Although all the spells are Level 2 Spells but cast by a 3-Star Apprentice Mage whose soul had already begun expanding beyond what was typical for his rank, made these Level 2 Spells exponentially powerful than before.

A trio of knights clad in black broke through the frontline, charging toward him with blades gleaming and a fierce aura surrounding them. They moved with such speed that most mages wouldn’t even have time to cast a spell before meeting their end.

But Sage didn’t flinch. He remained utterly still.

In less than a blink, three magic circles ignited before him.

Triple casting.

A fire circle spun into existence, unleashing a barrage of blazing arrows that shot forward like a storm of burning projectiles. Next to it, another circle erupted, releasing a compressed blast of fire that detonated outward upon impact.

The third circle formed overhead, sending down a spiraling cascade of flames like a fiery waterfall.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The knights vanished in the explosion. Their armor melted away as their bodies were hurled backward. The ground blackened beneath the force of the impact. Sage shifted his staff slightly, a subtle but deliberate motion.

Wind circles flickered into existence around a nearby group of enemies closing in on an injured Adventurer. A sharp slicing gale erupted from multiple angles, tearing through them and instantly collapsing their formation as it shredded armor and flesh alike.

Lightning followed swiftly, a jagged bolt striking down from another newly formed circle above their heads, its crack echoing like thunder.

Sage didn’t hesitate; his spells flowed seamlessly one after another. He switched between elements with unnatural speed. The magic circles no longer required traditional preparation; they simply appeared wherever his intent focused, beneath enemy feet, behind charging knights, above exposed targets.

As soon as an opening appeared, he unleashed another spell: a fire spear shot forward and pinned one rushing knight to the ground. A wind blade sliced across another group flanking him, knocking them off balance while lightning arced between two attackers, dropping both instantly.

Through it all, he stood firm, still and resolute. His role wasn’t to charge into battle; it was to dominate the battlefield. Four 4-Star Master Knights stood near him like sentinels, blades drawn and eyes constantly scanning for threats.

Whenever an enemy managed to slip past his barrage of spells and close in on him, they moved without hesitation to intercept the threat before it could reach Sage. Their presence created an invisible perimeter around him, allowing him to continue casting uninterrupted.

Because mages were vulnerable, physically weaker than knights. If one got too close, if even one blade landed, it could all end in an instant.

Another wave surged toward his position, this time five Expert Knights moving in perfect coordination as they clearly recognized him as their primary target.

Sage’s gaze sharpened; he tilted his staff slightly as three lightning magic circles appeared simultaneously. Lightning exploded outward in jagged arcs that struck the charging knights mid-step. Their bodies jerked violently as momentum faltered and their aura destabilized.

Before they could recover from the shock, fire circles ignited beneath them and detonated with explosive force.

BANG!

The explosion tore through their formation, scattering them like broken dolls. One of the black clothed men struggled to his feet, barely conscious, raising his weapon weakly… A wind blade sliced through his neck before he could complete the motion.

Sage lowered his staff slightly, his gaze already shifting elsewhere. He didn’t linger on the fallen; he just kept casting, more spells, more destruction.

To his left, an injured Adventurer was nearly overwhelmed by a coordinated assault from three enemies. Just as they were about to strike, a lightning circle flared beside them, unleashing a burst that sent them sprawling. Moments later, a fire blast followed, clearing the area completely.

The Adventurer looked back in shock. Sage offered no words; he simply nodded and redirected his focus. Wind spiraled outward from another circle, disrupting a nearby group. Fire followed suit, then lightning.

The battlefield shifted around him. Knights began to move instinctively within his range, trusting that his spells would support them. They knew that if they created an opening, something would strike from nowhere.

The versatility of Sage’s magic was astonishingly adaptive. Even though his spells remained at level two, the speed, precision, and volume with which he cast them elevated their effectiveness far beyond their apparent rank.

Sweat dripped from his chin now; he was breathing slightly heavier. Yet his hands remained steady and his mind sharp. Another triple cast ignited, this time wind-based, sending three slicing currents from different angles into an advancing group and scattering them instantly.

The four Master Knights beside him surged forward again to finish what his spells had started. The synergy between them was seamless as the battle raged on.

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