Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage
Chapter 199 - The Slan Gorge (3)

Chapter 199 - The Slan Gorge (3)

Upon Teleportation being used, the surroundings became silent as if nothing had ever happened.

However, even though the teleportation spell made everything disappear, it still couldn't erase the traces of the fierce magic bombardment.

The silence continued for around a minute. When it was finally deemed completely safe, several people appeared from the sky.

“It worked, right?”

“Yeah, we calculated it right.”

“What were the coordinates?”

“Somewhere in the southernmost part of the continent.”

“You’ve dropped them off at the far end of the continent, haven't you?”

“Well, this is the only way we can buy ourselves time for about ten days.”

Many people had appeared. They all wore large robes and most of them looked young. They were none other than the vice school heads of the former Magical Spire, but of course, they were now the vice school heads of the Snow Spire.

The six vice school heads landed on the ground.

In order, they were the vice school heads of the four sciences: fire, water, earth, and wind. The remaining two were the vice school heads of movement.

Igni Ramto, a fire master who specialized in fire properties, said, “I attacked him out of nowhere, but it didn’t work as well as it was supposed to. He was definitely Balak, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah. There’s no one except for the Punishment King that wears a three-horned helmet and uses a stupid weapon like that.”

“Arthus, what a wretched bastard! I didn’t expect him to send the Punishment King just to capture us!”

“But how did he know where to send him?”

“Anyway, the Archmage is truly amazing. I wonder if there's magic that lets you see into the future when you become a 7th-Circle.”

The misunderstandings kept piling up, but no matter the process, Henry’s judgment had been right.

Henry had made Hector the gatekeeper of Salgaera in case Arthus came here. However, even if this was Hector, Henry had prepared the vice school heads in advance, just in case something would go wrong. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

Henry’s planning had been perfect, saving Salgaera from the worst possible crisis.

“It’s going to take Balak at least ten days to get here, so we’ll have to get the Archmage before then.”

“Do you know where the Archmage is right now?”

“I heard that he’s in the Sore Empire right now.”

“Then I’ll go there.”

The one who offered to go there was Crab Flicker, one of the vice school heads of the movement school, majoring in movement techniques.

“Alright, then some of you should go to the gorge entrance and check the status of the checkpoint, while the rest set up a boundary line. I’ll look for Sir Hector.”

“Okay.”

“Everyone, get going!”

When everything was still peaceful, all the school heads were in competition with one another because all of them took great pride in their intelligence. However, when the empire fell and a new Archmage was born, they stopped competing and started to fully cooperate with each other, working as a group. After all, wizards were all about being efficient.

Soon, all of the six vice school heads dispersed.

There were still nine vice school heads in the Snow Spire. However, they were there just in case of an emergency to protect the young wizards in the Snow Spire.

In the absence of the leaders, those at the bottom of the ladder worked hard and efficiently to fulfill their duties.

* * *

Ptzzz!

A vortex of mana formed out of thin air, looking like a lightning bolt.

As if a bomb of light had exploded, a blinding beam of light washed over the land, and a storm of destruction swept over the peaceful mountain range of the south.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In the center of the storm was but one man.

A man in red armor, wearing a helmet with three horns.

The man curled up even more tightly, trying to hold for dear life as the vortex and bombardment of magic blasted him ceaselessly.

...

Eventually, everything went silent. The storm had passed.

Everything was still after the storm of destruction ceased, and the smell of the green forest that had once filled the air was now gone. The area had become a wasteland. Was it because the spells of the wizards had erased everything?

There was nothing in this wasteland. All the plants and animals of the mountain range poked their heads out as the horrific noises had stopped.

But just then...

Crack!

In this unnatural wasteland, a pair of worn-out gloves emerged from the ground like dry, dead wood.

Crack!

At the wrist of the glove was a brace that hugged the forearm. As the hand rose from the ground, armor became visible, and then a dusty helmet.

It was Balak, slowly pulling himself out of the ground like a zombie rising from the grave. He was covered in dust and dirt. The black cape on his back was so damaged that one couldn’t even call it a cape anymore.

“It was Salgaera after all.”

Crack, crack!

Balak stretched his neck and loosened up his cramped muscles. Although he had endured a fierce magic bombardment, he had no severe injuries.

He had been nervous at first, thinking that it was a surprise attack by Archmage-level wizards, but as the attack continued, he realized that his Aura was more than capable of protecting him.

Balak scanned his surroundings.

“Those cunning bastards, where the hell did they send me to?”

Having lived in the north for many years, the lush landscape of the south felt foreign to Balak. Of course, he didn’t know for a fact that he was in the south, but he assumed so because of the green scenery surrounding the area destroyed by the magic bombardment.

He stretched his hand out and said, “Black Punisher.”

Crack, crack! Crack!

Grasp!

Fortunately, it seemed like the Black Punisher had been teleported with him.

As Balak stretched out his hand and called for the Black Punisher, it rose from underneath the ground and returned to his hand.

Balak put the morning star on his back, and after guessing the direction of each cardinal point, he headed toward where he thought he would replace people. He had to inform the emperor as soon as possible that the wizards were in Salgaera.

Balak was on his way to leave behind the wasteland, and...

* * *

Clunk.

Clunk, clunk.

“As expected, this isn't going to work.”

There was another being there, this one in the dark underground.

It was Hector, who had been teleported to the southern mountain range along with Balak. He was in the same area that had been obliterated by the magic bombardment.

“Tsk! Damn it!”

In his spirit form, Hector emerged from the ground, annoyed. He had lost to Balak despite the fact that he had used the Kingdom’s Guardian, his decisive skill.

However, he didn’t despair over his defeat because he had never fully mastered his own powers after becoming a spirit in the first place. In other words, Hector hadn’t yet adapted to his new body. Therefore, he didn’t think that this defeat counted.

“...The weapon I used wasn’t even mine either.”

Of course, he hadn’t expected to use the same weapon he had used in the past. Since he had been given another chance to live, he had to replace a new weapon that suited his new life. This is what Hector thought.

‘Anyway, that was dangerous. I could’ve been called back to the afterlife.’

After resurrecting Hector, Henry had instructed him to be careful of several things, and one of them was magic attacks.

Physical attacks didn’t affect Hector because he had been resurrected as a spirit, but magic and Aura-infused attacks were different. He had to be especially careful of magic bombardments because they destroyed everything in their path, both foes and allies.

“Anyway, where am I?”

Hector glanced around. The sky was blue, and the land around him, which had now become barren, was surrounded by verdure and animals.

After analyzing the terrain and the altitude, he realized that he was most likely in the middle of a mountain range somewhere.

Hector watched Balak as he moved further away. Looking at his back didn’t tell Hector where he was, but at least Balak would know the geography of this place better than someone like Hector, who was from the past. So, following Balak was his best option for the time being.

‘I guess it can’t be helped.’

Having become a spirit with nobody, Hector rose into the air and followed Balak from a reasonable distance.

‘Anyway, that guy... I didn’t see him that way at first, but he’s not too shabby.’

He didn’t know how long this journey was going to be, but it wasn’t like he could have a chat with Balak along the way. Thus, Hector naturally had all the time in the world to sink into his thoughts.

Solitude. Meditation. Talking to himself. Loneliness.

Hector was familiar with all those things, given that they had been a big part of his years of lingering in the Underworld. Therefore, this short moment of boredom was nothing compared to what he had experienced in the past. Even so, he decided to kill time in a familiar manner.

The first thing he decided to contemplate on was his previous fight with Balak.

‘Anyway, is that morning star an artifact or something? I’ve heard of talking swords, but a weapon that returns to its owner on its own? I’d want a weapon like that if it weren’t for its shape.’

Hector was used to talking to himself.

The two warriors began their journey together, although separated from each other.

* * *

Zipan.

They were a nation of dark-haired, dark-eyed people who had come from the eastern continent a long time ago.

At first, it would seem that they were culturally similar to the Sore Empire, but in reality, the two nations had completely different cultures.

Doyle was the head of Zipan, and he was currently having tea with Henry, a guest who had politely showed up at the front door.

“I sensed that things were changing, but I didn’t expect it to be to this extent.”

“Zipan is the last one left. If Zipan joins the Allied Powers, all the Central Powers can come together to create one powerful alliance to fight the Aenia Empire.”

“Hmmm.”

Doyle pondered on it.

Despite nearing the age of ninety, with gray eyebrows and a bald head, Doyle had kept himself remarkably healthy.

After thinking for some time, he asked Henry, “Then what can you do for us, Archmage?”

“Do you have a specific request?”

“I do, but there’s no point in wanting something at my age.”

“I’m an Archmage, so I’ll try my very best to make it happen.”

“Try your best, huh...?”

Doyle lifted his eyelids, thin as a thread, revealing his faint pupils. His black pupils had turned cloudy.

He was blind.

However, even though he was blind, he had no trouble leading Zipan. He was said to see his opponents with his heart, not with his two worn-out eyes.

“What I want is simple. I want to go back to my homeland, a place that I’ve haven't been to in a long time,” said Doyle.

“Homeland...?”

“Yes. Out of all the people in Zipan, everyone who actually came over from the east side is dead except for me. In other words, everyone else here is from Eurasia.”

Although they had dark hair and dark eyes, they had been born in Eurasia, making it their homeland.

However, Doyle was different.

Although he had lived in the Eurasian Empire until the age of ninety, Doyle’s homeland was still on the eastern continent. He had come from there from a very distant past.

“There’s nothing I want to have, and nothing I want to eat, but in my nearly one hundred years of life, I’ve tried to cross over to the eastern continent many times, but each time I’ve failed. So, if we do decide to join the alliance, will you take me to the eastern continent?” continued Doyle.

This was the last wish of a homesick, dying man. Doyle genuinely wanted to rest in peace in the comfort of his own homeland, where he had been born and raised.

‘The eastern continent...’

Henry had conquered Eurasia in his previous life, but he had never been to the eastern continent. Rather, he had never been interested in it in the first place. However, as Doyle’s condition for joining the alliance was going back to the eastern continent, Henry became interested in it for the first time in his life.

Henry didn’t have to think for long. Taking Doyle back to the eastern continent after the war seemed possible because it would be Henry doing it, not just anybody.

“Alright. I swear on my Master’s name that I will reunite you with your homeland.”

“Very well.”

There was no need to ask the opinions of the people in Zipan. Doyle was the head of Zipan, and everyone was going to agree with his decision because they all respected him and considered him the wisest person in their nation.

‘Then it’s settled.’

With this, Zipan also joined the Allied Powers.

There still hadn’t been a definitive answer from Deucekain, but there was no need to worry about them because Terion was working on it.

‘It’s going to start soon.’

The Allied Powers were complete. Henry was finally able to take his first step toward facing the Aenia Empire.