Chapter 208: Guild War [ 5 ]

The battle raged on as Adventurers and the black-clad knights clashed in relentless waves, their auras colliding with violent intensity. Weapons screamed as they sliced through air and armor alike; every strike sent tremors rippling through the already fractured terrain.

At the rear of the battlefield, where the pressure felt slightly less suffocating yet remained perilous, Sage stood firm like a solitary pillar against an encroaching storm. His staff glowed faintly as he conjured spell after spell with brutal precision.

Magic circles flickered around him in rapid succession, appearing not only before him but beneath enemies’ feet, behind their shoulders, and even above their heads before detonating in flashes of fire, wind, and lightning that tore through advancing foes.

Though his casting hadn’t slowed since the battle began, the toll was becoming increasingly evident.

Sweat beaded on his temples; his breathing deepened with each passing moment; the strain on his soul energy pressed down like invisible chains tightening with every triple-cast he forced into existence.

He was still holding on. Still fighting. But his body was beginning to protest.

Sustaining triple casting for this long wasn’t meant to be possible. It consumed concentration, soul power, and mana alike.

While the system had granted him access to more Level 2 spells than most Apprentice Mages could ever dream of learning, he was still just a newly advanced 3-Star Apprentice Mage.

His soul had expanded, allowing for faster and more efficient casting, but his foundation remained young and untempered by prolonged endurance on the battlefield.

Every simultaneous spell chipped away at reserves that hadn’t fully recovered from his earlier injuries he got from conquering the three dungeons; the ache in his chest grew heavier with each breath. Although he have broken through to 3-Star Apprentice Mage and has been focusing on healing but he still haven’t made full recovery yet.

Yet stopping wasn’t an option because the battlefield was shifting and not in their favor.

Sage’s gaze swept across the front lines, tightening his stomach in ways no amount of experience could numb.

Adventurers were falling more frequently now; their earlier momentum began to fracture under relentless pressure from trained black-clad knights advancing in coordinated formations.

These weren’t ordinary enemies rushing blindly into combat, they moved with discipline: spacing themselves carefully while supporting one another and exploiting openings as soon as they appeared.

Where Adventurers fought like wild flames, unpredictable and fierce, these attackers moved like a controlled inferno: methodical and suffocating.

A 3-Star Expert Knight staggered back under a relentless assault, dropping to one knee just as a blade slipped through his guard. Nearby, a burly hammer-wielder smashed one attacker to pieces but was quickly pushed back by two more closing in from opposite sides.

A young Adventurer tried to shield a wounded companion but was struck across the ribs by a perfectly timed counter, collapsing with a strangled cry.

Even the remaining 4-Star Master Knights were beginning to show signs of fatigue; their movements slowed, and their auras flickered unevenly as exhaustion took its toll.

Sage clenched his jaw, conjuring another chain of lightning spells that arced through a cluster of enemies, buying precious seconds for two injured fighters to retreat. But his focus began to shift away from the front lines.

He turned his head and looked at the top of the building, where the leader of the group was standing, arms crossed and looking down at the battlefield.

A knot tightened in Sage’s chest. From the onset of this fight, that man had not once engaged in combat, no rushing forward, no shouting commands, no emotional reactions to the carnage below. He simply stood there, relaxed posture and steady gaze, as if observing an experiment rather than witnessing a brutal battlefield drenched in blood.

And that felt wrong. Terribly wrong.

Sage had dealt with nobles before. This didn’t feel like them at all. Nobles were loud and territorial; they exuded arrogance even in subtle ways. Their attacks came wrapped in status and authority, meant to dominate openly or suffocate politically. They struck when they wanted to remind others who ruled the land, not when they risked drawing attention to themselves.

This attack…was too calculated and too precise.

The timing alone made Sage’s thoughts race, it had come when the Guild was at its weakest: most Adventurers were out on missions, and their strongest deterrent, Valeria, had been lured away by a high-priority hunt that now seemed far too convenient to be mere coincidence.

Whoever orchestrated this had studied their patterns, understood their rotations, predicted their vulnerabilities. This wasn’t an opportunistic strike; it was premeditated and executed with surgical precision.

Sage exhaled slowly as another fire circle erupted beside an advancing enemy line, but his mind raced ahead with implications.

Nobles wouldn’t risk such an assault, not now when the Guild’s support was growing stronger. Merchants relied on them; travelers depended on them, even neutral factions had begun recognizing their value. An open attack would trigger backlash and scrutiny, possibly uniting opposition against them.

Nobles weren’t foolish, they didn’t strike when political costs outweighed potential gains.

Which meant… This wasn’t their move.

That realization sent chills down his spine because it implied someone else had planned this, a patient strategist who didn’t rely on status or authority but on cunning strategy instead.

Another lightning strike exploded in the distance, but Sage hardly noticed. His gaze snapped back to the rooftop, where the leader was staring directly at him.

It wasn’t a casual glance; it was intense and focused, like he was being assessed by a predator.

The leader of the group eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Sage who was looking back at him as he muttered under his breath.

“What a troublesome Mage…but i didn’t expect that the Guildmaster of the Adventurer Guild is a Mage…”

His lips curled up slightly as he looked at Sage.

An Apprentice Mage, yet he wielded his power on the battlefield like a Master Knight, disrupting formations and taking down multiple enemies in mere seconds. He controlled the space around him, becoming an unpredictable variable, a serious problem.

Sage swallowed hard, his grip tightening around his staff.

But just the the leader figure blurred as he disappeared from his position without any warning.

Sage’s expression shifted instantly as his instincts screamed danger louder than the chaos surrounding him. Magic circles flared to life around him as mana surged through his veins, but just before he could unleash a spell….

A voice cut through the turmoil.

Small, sharp and errified.

“UNCLE SAGE—LOOK OUT!”

It was Mina.

Time seemed to slow down for Sage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her, a streak of gold racing across the battlefield with her shield raised high, her small frame charging forward with reckless determination.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The impact shattered the air around them. The ground buckled violently beneath their feet as a shockwave erupted outward like a tidal wave of force, sending dust, stone, and bodies flying into the sky. Adventurers and foes alike were thrown off balance as debris rained down from above and tore through the already fractured plaza.

And amidst it all….

“Ahhhhhhh…!

A scream pierced through everything. Raw and filled with pain and anguish.

“Mina….!!”

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