BANG!
Roland’s expression remained calm as he steadily blocked the attack from the small Magical Guide Structure.
With a re flick of his wrist, he brought his sword upward in a smooth arc.
CRACK!
With a crisp sound, the blade sliced through the tal skull of the enemy before him as if it were a hot knife through butter, shearing off most of it.
The red light in its deep eye sockets extinguished instantly, and its once-nimble body collapsed into a pile of scrap tal in the blink of an eye.
’They’re fast and quite strong. They don’t tire, nor do they fear injury, but...’
Roland’s gaze swept over a shimring, short spear-like tal device on the ground nearby, and most of his worries vanished.
’Aside from this one rather clever hidden weapon, their thods of attack are utterly unremarkable.’
’Putting aside their numbers, in terms of threat level, they’re not even on par with the Chaos Demons from the Outer Planes.’
Having assessed the strength of these small chanical Bodies in an instant, Roland relayed his findings to his companions as he continued to push forward.
He soon reached Reggie’s side.
Just as Roland had expected, the power this Knight Academy instructor was now displaying undoubtedly belonged to the Extraordinary Domain.
However, his destructive power was far from that of Gandar, whom Roland had seen before; it was more on par with Beckham from the Black Water Territory.
But even so, Reggie’s power was far beyond what these small Magical Guide Structures could withstand.
Adding to that the thousands of soldiers still full of stamina...
These tal creations could only fall before their swords, becoming pile after pile of twisted scrap.
As for those giant Magical Guide Structures...
Roland frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the colossal figures gradually approaching in the distance.
However, before he could make a move, a blinding silver light suddenly tore through the air.
SWOOSH!
In an instant, the behemoth that had just been charging forward so nacingly was sliced in half at the waist.
Its heavy, severed torso crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and smoke.
"Reggie! This way!"
Hearing the familiar shout, Reggie didn’t hesitate. He imdiately commanded his troops to hurry through the street, which was lined with crumbling walls and ruins, toward the source of the voice.
In just a mont, a squad of soldiers ca into view, steadily retreating under the fierce assault of the Magical Guide Structures.
Seeing this, Reggie quickly ordered his entire force to press forward and provide support.
The arrival of these fresh troops instantly stabilized the precarious front line.
"Hah..."
Graham let out a long breath, kicked away the heavy head of a giant Magical Guide Structure beside him, and strode forward.
"Reggie! You got here just in ti, you old dog. Otherwise... huh?"
Graham was about to reach out and clap his old friend on the shoulder when his gaze suddenly fell upon the sturdy figure beside him.
"Roland? What are you still doing here?"
"Dean Graham..."
Seeing the Dean of the Knight Academy was safe and sound, a great weight was finally lifted from Roland’s heart.
He then recounted everything that had happened to him in detail.
Seeing this, Reggie tacitly took command of the army, giving the two of them space to talk.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk..."
Perhaps the arrival of reinforcents had improved the Dean’s mood. After hearing Roland’s description, a mischievous smile appeared on his face as he teased him.
"So, you’ve really had a string of bad luck, kid! But still..."
He turned his head, his gaze falling on the towering spire in the city center, and muttered to himself.
"The Magic City... Giles?"
Catching the fleeting, dazed look on Graham’s face, Roland raised an eyebrow and asked.
"Dean, have you heard of this Magic City before?"
"Hmm... Decades ago, I heard an old drunk ntion it. He said the master of this city was nad Schmidt. I originally thought..."
Graham trailed off, shaking his head with a self-deprecating laugh and quickly changing the subject.
"Kid, your judgnt was decisive."
"If you hadn’t suggested that Reggie rush over with reinforcents, my soldiers probably would have all lost their lives, trapped in this at grinder. When we get back to the Royal Capital..."
He patted his chest plate.
"I will make sure you get the reward you deserve!"
Graham laughed heartily, then wiped the filth from his blade with his arm armor, his expression turning serious.
"From now on, you and Reggie just stay here and rest easy. Leave the rest... to !"
’Magic City Jiles...’
’A city buried in the dust of history, one that even the mysterious purple-haired Witch Vanessa and long-lived Elves like Avril and Galvis had never heard of.’
’And yet, the Dean of the Knight Academy right in front of seed to know sothing about it?’
Doubts swirled in Roland’s mind, but seeing that Graham had no intention of discussing it further, he wisely chose not to press the issue.
Seeing the Dean was about to leave, Roland quickly asked about the current battle situation.
Graham didn’t hide anything, frankly explaining their current predicant.
"We can’t track the Witch Demon?"
Roland’s brows furrowed, and he spoke up.
"Dean Graham, if you trust , please wait a mont. I might..."
In such a perilous situation, he no longer planned to hide his abilities.
Besides, after everything they had been through, Roland was certain that the Dean of the Knight Academy was trustworthy.
Thus, after only a slight hesitation, he continued.
"...have a way to find its location, or... its true intentions."
These words brought a flicker of surprise to Graham’s eyes.
His previous interactions with the young man had taught him that he was not one to make empty boasts.
Therefore, after only a mont of contemplation, he nodded in agreent.
Seeing his approval, Roland hesitated no longer.
After asking Graham to ensure his safety, he slowly closed his eyes. He sank his consciousness deep within himself, doing his best to block out the clamor of battle—the shouts of soldiers and the grating screech of tal on tal.
As his [Concentration] Trait activated, his imnse Spiritual Power—approaching thirty points—extended in all directions like invisible tentacles.
His Perception passed through the crumbling walls and ruins, swept over the twisted wreckage of chanical Bodies, and road across every inch of this ancient Magic City.
However, the Magic Elents perating the city were unusually mixed and chaotic, like countless muddy, turbulent streams crashing into one another, creating a powerful "magic background noise."
His Spiritual Power struggled to navigate this sea of Chaos, desperately searching for the wisp of Negative Energy that belonged to the Witch Demon.
But it was like trying to see flowers in a fog; he couldn’t lock onto its precise location.
’It’s no good... The interference is too strong...’
Realizing that his conventional Spiritual Perception was ineffective, Roland took a deep breath.
As his chest rose and fell, a completely different power began to surge from the depths of his spirit.
[Spiritual Self-Formation] activated silently.
The invisible Spiritual Energy instantly reinforced his spiritual core and the boundaries of his Perception.
In an instant, his extended Spiritual Power seed to be infused with a tough, physical substance, becoming condensed and sharp—like a precision probe capable of parting the Chaos.
He began to patiently sort through the chaotic Magic Flows around him, bit by bit, clearing out "channels" for his Perception.
In this state of heightened Concentration, enhanced by Spiritual Energy, the Witch Demon’s specific location remained as elusive as a shadow sunk in the deep sea, but Roland managed to capture an extrely critical anomaly.
The towering spire in the center of the city.
The concentration of Magic Elents gathered around it far exceeded any other location, forming a dazzling vortex of Magic Power.
Yet Roland could now clearly "see" that these dense Magic Elents enveloping the spire were not being generated by the spire itself and radiating outward.
Quite the opposite, they seed to be drawn and gathered by so kind of Power.
These Magic Elents were not rushing toward the spire chaotically. Instead, they clearly ford three imnse, condensed, and ceaseless torrents of Magic Power, converging from three completely different, distant locations before finally eting and pouring into the silent spire.
Realizing this, Roland’s eyes snapped open, a sharp glint flashing within them.
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