Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1739  The State Of Battle

The ten thousand arrows began to fall from the large orb-like structure in the sky. The energy that had formed it dissipated within seconds, leaving behind a storm of deadly power raining down onto the battlefield. Each arrow was locked onto a target, tracking its prey with unrelenting precision.

As the arrows descended, the mages quickly learned the hard way that these were not ordinary projectiles. Some of them believed they could simply sidestep the attack, only to watch in horror as the arrow curved midair and struck them anyway. The tracking was flawless.

Many never even saw the arrows coming.

They were locked in combat with Pagna warriors, spells clashing against blades, when suddenly an arrow pierced through the back of their heads. Others felt a sharp impact in their chests before collapsing to the ground without understanding what had happened.

The Noble Guild's mages wore special enchanted robes, designed to provide protection in situations exactly like this. For some, the robes activated automatically, forming a barrier of energy that flared brightly as it absorbed the impact. In those cases, the arrow shattered against the magical shield, sparks scattering into the air.

A few of the stronger mages reacted quickly enough to cast defensive spells of their own. Large domes of magic formed around them, stopping the arrows before they could reach their targets. Others were fortunate enough to be near allies carrying powerful enchanted equipment capable of blocking or even reflecting attacks.

However, reflection did not mean retaliation.

The arrows were redirected into random directions rather than sent back toward Forma. Even when the attack was turned aside, it never returned to its origin.

Still, not all were so fortunate.

Due to the ongoing battle with the Pagna warriors, many mages had already drained a portion of their robe's protective power. Their barriers flickered weakly, unstable and thinning. When the arrows struck them, the defenses shattered instantly. Some were pierced cleanly through the skull. Others were impaled through the chest, dying on the spot. In other cases, the arrow struck at a critical moment, staggering the mage just enough for a warrior's blade to finish the job.

The effect was devastating.

In mere moments, half of the Noble Guild's force had fallen.

The tide of battle shifted dramatically.

However, the mages who survived were not ordinary.

They were the stronger ones.

One mage wielded an enchanted item capable of casting powerful illusions. The Pagna warriors found themselves striking at enemies who weren't truly there, their blades slicing through empty air. Then, from behind or from the side, the real attack would strike, burning flesh with searing magic.

Another mage transformed the ground beneath the warriors into a shifting mass resembling quicksand. Footing became unstable. Movement slowed. Warriors struggled to regain balance while spells rained down upon them.

There were also those skilled enough to manipulate wind magic to achieve flight. They rose into the air, maintaining distance from the melee below.

Air combat had always been difficult for Pagna warriors. While they could leap high into the air or use Qi techniques to strike upward, such attacks were predictable. The mages saw them coming. From their elevated positions, they launched spells before the warriors could even reach them, striking midair and sending bodies crashing back to the ground.

As the battle continued, the mages began to adapt.

The city itself revealed another layer of preparation.

Some of the houses and structures were not ordinary buildings. They had been set up with magical circles and concealed devices, designed as traps. When warriors entered or stepped too close, spells activated, attacking from multiple directions or binding them in place.

It was as if the mages had prepared for an invasion long before this day. Not just for a small group like Raze and his companions, but for an entire army.

Although the Noble Guild's numbers had been cut down, the remaining forces were formidable. The battlefield no longer seemed like a straightforward victory.

Some Pagna warriors were beginning to struggle.

Ideally, this would have been the moment for the strongest warriors to step forward, eliminate the troublesome mages, and push forward toward the third wall. Instead, something else occurred.

The surviving mages began to gather.

"Forma, are you okay?" Alba shouted as she rushed onto the rooftop.

One by one, members of the Crimson Crane appeared beside her. Liam arrived, carrying Dame, whose body was still recovering slowly. B stood nearby, steady and watchful. Rayna and Amir also joined them, forming a defensive cluster around Forma.

"Yeah," Forma replied.

She was slouched slightly, her body trembling faintly from the effects of the curse. The pain coursed through her veins like fire beneath her skin. Even so, she forced herself upright.

"I'm going to do everything to get rid of them all," she said.

For the first time, even after unleashing ten thousand arrows, she had not fainted.

Alba immediately sensed that something was different. There was a shift in Forma's aura, something darker, more resolute. The fact that she was still standing after using so many arrows was something for Alba to be concerned about. But this was not the moment to question it.

Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air. An arrow.

Tilion reacted instantly. He leapt upward, raising his shield. The arrow collided with it, and an explosion of energy burst outward, shaking the rooftop beneath them.

As the smoke cleared, they looked ahead. There he floated. Idore.

His gaze was fixed directly on Forma.

"It's good that all of the troublesome ones seem to have gathered in one place," Idore said calmly. "It makes it easier for me to get rid of them."

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