Dean Avery paid no attention to the disturbance below and continued speaking in a calm yet forceful voice:
“The enemy’s specific tactical intentions remain unclear at present. However, given the current disparity in combat power between both sides, the highest decision-making body of the Workshop has only one core requirent for this war…”
His gaze seed to sharpen further as he enunciated each word clearly:
“Delay!”
“Hold the enemy back at all costs! Delay them for a sufficiently long ti!”
“No matter whether the subsequent phase involves large-scale legionary clashes, dispersal into elite small teams for guerrilla warfare, sabotage, or contesting key nodes—all strategic and tactical decisions must proceed from a single starting point: ‘buying ti’! Buying more ti for the Workshop!”
Delay?
Jie Ming sat below the platform, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the armrest as his mind raced.
This posture… Could it be that the upper echelons of Noren Workshop were in possession of so kind of “guaranteed victory” trump card—or at the very least, sothing powerful enough to reverse the situation?
But that trump card required a considerably long preparation period before it could be activated or take effect?
Therefore, the core strategy at the present stage was to “hold on desperately” at any price—trading space and partial sacrifices for ti?
Yet… neither the Tower of Annihilation nor the Chaos Secret Cult were fools.
For them to join forces and launch this offensive, they must have prepared their own decisive killing moves in response.
Could Noren Workshop’s “ultimate technique” truly contend against the opponent’s possible—and perhaps multiple—“ultimate techniques”?
Doubts still lingered in Jie Ming’s heart, but Dean Avery had already concluded the declaration of the highest-level strategy.
The light screen rose slightly to make room, and another tall wizard clad in pitch-black battle armor stepped forward. His face was stern and cold.
He was a senior staff officer from Noren Workshop’s Military Command Headquarters and also an instructor at Academy No. 147.
In an utterly emotionless tone, he began presenting the enemy’s known paper strength:
“Preliminary assessnt of the combined combat power of the hostile forces is as follows:
“Eighth-ring wizards: two confird—one from the Tower of Annihilation, one from the Chaos Secret Cult.
“Seventh-ring wizards: confird participants exceed five hundred.
“Sixth-ring wizards: estimated total exceeds ten thousand.
“Fifth-ring and below wizards: exact number unknown, but based on their recruitnt scope and faction size models, total troop strength is approximately… one point five to one point eight tis our own.”
With each figure announced, the temperature in the conference hall seed to drop another degree.
Those were not rely cold numbers—they represented countless powerful individuals and a war tide capable of drowning everything.
The disadvantage was even greater than many had imagined.
As far as Jie Ming knew, Noren Workshop could only field roughly four hundred seventh-ring wizards at most—an almost bottom-of-the-barrel mobilization of their entire reserve.
The number of sixth-ring wizards was likewise limited; in the end, they could muster fewer than seven thousand.
Moreover, Wizard Anton Buchanan had advanced to eighth ring far too recently. The gap in top-tier combat power between the two sides was considerably wider than initially anticipated.
Afterward, several sixth-ring wizards stepped forward one after another to detail the concrete war preparations.
Personnel grouping, resource allocation, teleportation sequencing, initial defensive deploynts, establishnt of communication and command chains, ergency retreat protocols…
One by one, the arrangents and orders were laid out thodically and clearly. Finally, the lengthy pre-war conference ca to an end.
On the high platform, the phantom image of Avery Knight gave a slight nod before dissolving like rippling water.
Almost simultaneously, across the smooth, mirror-like tal floor of the circular tiered conference hall, complex and orderly teleportation runes suddenly lit up in patches.
Light rose from beneath their feet, enveloping every wizard present. Spatial fluctuations grew active yet orderly.
Jie Ming lowered his head to examine the exquisitely detailed array patterns underfoot—clearly completed very recently—and scratched his head in mild surprise:
“I rember the last ti I ca for a eting… there wasn’t anything like this down here.”
Viola, seated in the front row, turned her head at his words.
The serious expression she had worn throughout the eting vanished instantly, replaced by a trace of smug pride.
She gave Jie Ming a big thumbs-up and lowered her voice:
“Of course not! This is the ‘express passage’ we worked through the night to lay down on ergency rush order! Pretty efficient, right?”
Jie Ming looked at her face—slightly darkened with fatigue shadows under her eyes yet brimming with energy—and recalled the sight of those sixth-ring grand wizards sitting ramrod straight on the high platform earlier, each one exuding solemn, unfathomable authority. His expression darkened slightly, tone turning subtle:
“So… the reason all of you were sitting up there looking so ‘serious’ and inscrutably in command… wouldn’t happen to be because…”
“Of course it’s because we’ve been setting up arrays for days on end, calibrating energy nodes, coordinating teleportation paraters with other academies—we were so exhausted we just wanted to sit still and rest our eyes for a bit!” Viola declared righteously, even letting out a small yawn. “Maintaining an image is exhausting work, you know.”
Jie Ming: “…”
For a brief mont, the mysterious, imposing “aura” he had always associated with high-ring wizards seed to crack and shatter with an audible “ka-cha.”
Before he could continue his internal roast, the teleportation array beneath his feet suddenly flared with dazzling light!
A gentle yet irresistible spatial force enveloped his entire body. His vision was filled with pure white radiance, and a faint sensation of weightlessness arrived.
When the light finally dissipated and his sight returned, Jie Ming realized he was no longer in that solemn conference hall.
Looking around, he found himself in an extrely “orderly” desolation.
The ground consisted of unnaturally flat, dark-gray rock that stretched endlessly toward the horizon.
The sky was a constant, unchanging pale blue light curtain lacking any natural cloud formations, emitting uniform and gentle illumination.
The air carried an extrely “clean” yet sowhat rigid elental aura. Energy particles of every attribute were precisely regulated to a stable ratio, with fluctuations suppressed to the minimum.
Unlike when he was still a novice wizard, Jie Ming’s perception of elents was now far more refined, allowing him to discern far more information.
Feeling the overly “neat” energy environnt around him—one that lacked natural chaos and vitality—he imdiately understood where he was.
“A ship-plane…” he murmured to himself.
On second thought, it made perfect sense.
After all, ship-planes were a type of plane that had been heavily modified by wizard civilization specifically for void voyaging or to serve as mobile war fortresses.
They were the ideal platforms for large-scale troop concentration, transit, and long-range projection.
“Jie Ming! Over here!”
A familiar voice called from behind and to the side.
Jie Ming turned and saw David vigorously pushing his way through a crowd of wizards who were still adjusting to the environnt and conversing in low voices.
Behind him, Seraphina, Kaelern, Rex, and Anya followed closely.
David was the first to reach Jie Ming. His face showed the closeness of seeing an old friend combined with unconcealed shock at Jie Ming’s current rank.
He looked Jie Ming up and down several tis, as though verifying the person in front of him wasn’t an imposter. Then his very first sentence nearly made Jie Ming lose composure:
“You… your brain’s not broken, right?!”
The corner of Jie Ming’s eye twitched. He replied irritably:
“…No. I’m perfectly fine.”
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