Sure enough, as the faint fluctuations came, spells from various elements followed one after another.
Most of them are level four and five spells that mimic elements into sharp weapon forms such as spears, daggers, and crossbow bolts, which can accurately hit and pierce locked enemies.
But Yun Wei is no longer the mage who could only summon skeletons.
It's worth noting that Richard, who was heartbroken, was the one who trained Sid's magical defense at his mansion.
Instead of using his clumsy levitation technique to dodge, he skillfully summoned an elemental shield.
Compared to those mechanical, lifeless elemental weapons, the shield he summoned possessed a kind of spirituality, as if it were breathing.
The azure water curtain not only dents and absorbs force when hit, but also changes angle, rotates, and deflects, and occasionally absorbs the elemental magic of attacking spells.
The magical aura in mid-air was incredibly beautiful, but the teetering magician kept flying closer and closer.
By the time the Sky Whale Squad realized something was wrong and reported to their leader, Yun Wei had already arrived at his designated location.
The location where 'Silent Heaven' can be cast.
...
At this moment, the chief was deeply worried about the appearance of the silver dragon, the strange phenomena on the city wall, and the increasingly dazzling holy light in the central army.
Of the three, perhaps only the Holy Light made him feel somewhat at ease.
Such a powerful divine spell must be the work of Lord Allen. The chief, filled with astonishment and uncertainty, thought to himself.
The reason we are at ease is because Lord Allen's unwavering loyalty to His Highness is evident to everyone in the Rose family.
After all, such a passionate and fervent apostle is probably a rare find even in the entire Holy Church.
Long ago, this chief had been entrusted by His Highness to subtly test the other party.
Yes, His Highness Alejandro is suspicious by nature and his thoughts are hard to fathom. Even he himself often faces various subtle probing questions and frequently laments that "serving a ruler is like serving a tiger."
As a result, in the world of spiritual power, he was horrified to see that the divine power swirling around the other person had almost solidified into a tangible form.
Unlike other priests, they do not need to draw faith from empty prayers; the other party is themselves a vast ocean of extreme devotion.
He was glad that he didn't have to make an enemy of such a priest.
With a priest of such a level, if he may be so bold as to say that the other party could simply have a thought and all the mages in the entire Raphael Mage Order would instantly become insane.
"Chief, something terrible has happened!" The captain of the Sky Whale Squad suddenly interrupted his recollection and reported to him.
He couldn't help but frown. "Mind your manners. What kind of behavior is this, all flustered and panicked?"
Although the era of emphasizing professional ethics has long passed, the aristocracy of today has become increasingly hypocritical. No matter how flustered they are inside, they will always maintain an elegant and composed demeanor on their faces.
Seeing the monk who had come to report stand at attention obsequiously, the chief monk slowly said, "Speak, what is it—"
Before he could finish speaking, a huge boulder suddenly pressed down on his heart, making it impossible for him to breathe.
"The law commands the soul, the night is deep and still..."
"The river of life and death flows on, and there is no way to cross it..."
"O souls wandering outside the gates of heaven, forgive your silence, answer my questions about life and death..."
A hoarse voice echoed in mid-air, soft and eerie.
The light here has been hidden.
A wind rose on the desolate battlefield, a chilling gust that seemed to echo with the howling of countless undead.
The mages of Raphael's order could only guard their minds in the thoughtless darkness, filled with immense fear.
They are not the dead, after all.
Therefore, it is impossible to easily answer Death's questions before the end of one's life.
...
Alejo stared indifferently at the enormous skeletal phantom that appeared on the side of the mage group.
The white bones, though stark, were not grotesque.
Compared to this hellish reality, death is an eternal peace.
Therefore, he would rather stand in the dark shadow of death than bask in the merciful yet cold holy light.
Although he was reluctant to admit it, he knew in his heart that this operation had ultimately failed.
The consequences of failure were severe, and the person in question never showed up.
Alejo lowered his eyes sadly, looking at his blood relatives.
Then, to his surprise, he saw genuine joy on the girl's face, which was originally filled with sorrow.
He had almost never seen such a genuine smile on his sister's face, so it was only natural that he felt puzzled and confused.
Vivian lifted the hem of her skirt beneath her cloak and twirled in the soft holy light.
Sometimes she looked at the silver dragon on the horizon, sometimes she gazed at the city walls of Moonflower City. When she saw the phantom of the skeleton, she finally confirmed one fact—
More than half a year ago, those students who had fled in panic due to the persecution of the Glorious Holy Church finally returned.
Her biggest regret before turning into bubbles has finally been fulfilled.
Moreover, those students not only seemed to have survived safely, but they also appeared to have become stronger.
She finally looked at the tall knight who was walking towards her brother through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and greeted him with almost delight, "Hi, Isaac. Long time no see. That skeleton, is that Yun Wei over there?"
The stern-faced knight, though his jaw was clenched, smiled politely at her. "Long time no see, Vivian. Yes, it's him."
The conversation then ended there.
Isaac was so polite that she couldn't help but feel constrained. Behind his perfectly measured manners and words lay a detached pride and aloofness.
To be honest, Vivian still prefers chatting with Yun Wei.
The other person had a certain quality that was similar to Allen's, which always made her feel relaxed.
Unfortunately, she seemed to have forgotten that this was a battlefield.
It is a battlefield where life and death are irrelevant, and the victor is king and the vanquished is villain.
All that could be heard was Alejandra's cold voice: "Vivi, step back."
The aloof prince sat upright on his horse, watching the pale-faced man warily.
Whether from the holy statue that Allen had wiped, from the words of that person, or from the information inherited from the family, the other party's identity was obvious and beyond doubt.
He couldn't help but raise his chin. "From your eyes, I already know your purpose. However, before you take action, please allow me to ask one more question—"
"What identity do you intend to use to define the upcoming battle?"
"It represents the Holy Church of Radiant Light, Isaac Saint Moriti—"
Before he could finish speaking, the silent man had already drawn his gleaming mithril sword. "My name is Isaac, a descendant of the Temu Brown family, and I have appeared here with the resolve to protect this continent."
"Alejandro Rose, you have only two choices—"
"To submit, or to die."
"Haha, interesting." Alejo suddenly laughed, and the riding whip in his hand was ruthlessly thrown to the ground.
He coldly bit his glove, revealing his well-defined knuckles.
Before the sea monster gloves hit the ground, the prince on horseback suddenly disappeared.
"clang!"
Then came the sharp clang of metal clashing in the arena. The man, hanging upside down in the air, holding two dangerously curved blades, had instantly arrived above the knight's head.
His attack missed, and his taut figure vanished without a trace, only to reappear silently behind his opponent.
But the knight seemed to have eyes in the back of his head; he swung his sword backward and parried with a backhand, barely managing to block the attack.
"Clang!"
Such a crisp sound continued to ring out, becoming increasingly dense and high-pitched.
Only the two people standing in the cool, clear light knew how dangerous each move was.
Short weapons are inherently suitable for assassination. As the saying goes, "the shorter the weapon, the more dangerous it is." If you touch it, you must leave immediately, and you will either die or be injured.
"You truly deserve to be the youngest Sword Saint." During the brief pause, Alaio sneered, "It's just a pity that your current strength is only level six. It's strange that the Branch of Time can grow backwards."
Isaac did not answer.
He passively defended against the opponent's attack, patiently and calmly waiting for an opportunity.
He had never encountered such an opponent before, and even his long-dormant fighting spirit was stirring in his heart.
The opponent's tactics were too ruthless, more like those of some ferocious beast fighting on instinct.
On the other side of the battlefield, in the silent darkness, the mage who was guiding countless souls to salvation suddenly had a sudden realization.
That bottleneck, which had already reached the advanced sixth level and seemed welded shut, amidst countless questions and answers about life and death—
It suddenly loosened.
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