185 - Ambush

After the explosion subsided, the once brightly lit hall was now a debris-strewn ruin. Coughing, Yulande, Kevin, and the others struggled to rise, their faces stained with blood. Even Raphael, though a bit paler, had his runic bracelet split into two. Dodging the crystal cannon shot wasn't hard, but he chose to shield Yulande and the rest, bracing himself for impact.

Lynn was in a slightly better state; the Sighing Wall and Raphael had absorbed most of the impact. Still, the lingering shockwaves took their toll on his body.

"Keep firing, kill them." The Cult of Apocalypse Cultists, not far off, staggered from the shock. However, their leading wizard disregarded it, bellowing furiously.

The high-level crystal cannon lit up almost instantly. Its blue energy beam surged again, the people present bracing for the worst. Raphael was prepared to intercept the second attack, but the terrifying energy beam vanished after a flicker.

"Damn it." The lead wizard furiously kicked the cannon; it had failed at a critical moment.

Lynn immediately glanced towards the obscured spot where Aurora hid, the only one capable of manipulating things from the shadows.

Raphael reacted swiftly, casting the Fourth Tier Spell—[Iron Sand Storm]. Countless sharp iron sands condensed and shot out like lightning. Several cultists tried to raise shields but were instantly pierced. They crumpled, blood staining the ground crimson.

The lead wizard suffered the brunt, riddled with dozens of iron sands, turning him into a sieve.

The damaged item was the high-level crystal cannon, precisely Raphael's intended target. The remaining cultists panicked. One wizard, terrified, fled but collided head-on with a blood-red whip, disintegrating in a spray of blood.

"Bunch of waste." A middle-aged wizard in a red robe emerged from the shadows, observing the chaos and the ruined cannon, his eyes chillingly sharp.

"Lord Envoy." The cultists immediately rallied around the wizard in the red robe.

Raphael's expression turned to shock. "Odessa?."

Odessa's presence made Raphael tense.

"Never thought it'd be you. Seems the attack on Lord Fayz wasn't merely an accident..."

The council had confirmed that three wizards, including Odessa, had followed Fayz into the magic stone mine, but only Fayz had returned.

Raphael had assumed they'd all perished inside, but here was Odessa, appearing before him as the so-called Cult of Apocalypse's Envoy.

"If you miss Fayz so much, I can arrange a reunion." Odessa's tone turned icy. Without waiting for Raphael's response, he produced an odd figurine, activating the Realm of Apocalypse.

In an instant, the ruined hall vanished, replaced by a blood-red space reeking of slaughter and blood. Colossal pillars spanned the void, and cracks resembling abysses scarred the ground.

"What place is this?" Yulande fought nausea, asking in fear.

"This is the imminent apocalypse, the future of the wizards' land. It'll be their graveyard," Odessa said dispassionately.

"Dream on." Raphael roared angrily. Elemental forces surged into the vast space.

It was the Fifth Tier Spell—[Mana Torrent]

"Step back," Raphael warned loudly before casting the spell.

Even before Raphael spoke, Lynn and the others had fled dozens of meters away, avoiding getting caught in the battle of the two grand wizards.

Elements clashed, creating a tidal wave of powerful energy that annihilated everything in its path.

"Try this, Dragon's Breath..." Odessa smirked, creating a fierce dragon breath, clashing with the Mana Torrent.

The storm even affected Lynn and the others from a distance.

"What do we do now?" A trembling witch spoke up. She had thought this operation against the Cult of Apocalypse would be a mere formality, perhaps a chance to take down a few enemies to boast about later, but it had escalated.

"As long as we hold on till Master Ogest arrives, we'll be safe," Philip encouraged, but he was deeply anxious.

Why hadn't Ogest and the team responsible for the frontal assault arrived yet? Instead, they'd encountered the leader of the Cult of Apocalypse cultists, and they had no idea how to leave this eerie space.

"Three o'clock direction, Yulande, get down." Lynn, who hadn't spoken until then, suddenly yelled at the outermost Yulande, abruptly shouting directions.

"What?" Yulande hesitated, clueless about Lynn's clock direction method, completely unaware of his right side as a hidden dagger lurked in the shadows, aiming for his neck.

But Lynn was quicker, kicking Yulande's lower leg, forcing him to kneel.

[Flame Touch]

Lynn raised his hand, a scorching blaze streaking over Yulande's head towards the assailant's position.

Infuriated by the inexplicable kick and nearly singeing his hair, Yulande was about to retort when a piercing scream beside him halted his words.

Under the high-temperature flames, the assailant turned into a burning figure, agonizingly struggling. The dagger in their hand gleamed with an eerie green light, sending chills down Yulande's spine.

He could imagine that if that thing had struck him, he'd be on death's doorstep.

"Thank you for the help, Sir Lynn." Yulande swiftly retreated into the group, expressing deep gratitude.

Lynn nodded, his gaze scanning the surroundings. Through his heat vision, a dozen or so sources were rapidly approaching them.