Chapter 528: Ripples and Intelligence on the Trump Card

The Illusion and the Dark Crow fell silent for a moment, then changed the subject.

"By the way, you just said you encountered a Level Seven Wizard? What happened?" The Illusion's tone returned to its usual calmness. "Aren't the enemy's Level Sevens still under our surveillance?"

The Dark Crow sighed, and the black fluid at his severed limb drooped listlessly.

"The ones I ran into were the ones not under surveillance."

The Illusion's gaze sharpened instantly.

"You mean—those guys who vanished since the war began and have been laying their trump cards all along?" His speech quickened. "Wait, your sector was in our deep rear, right? Does that mean—"

The Dark Crow nodded, then shook his head.

"They're definitely the ones," he said. "But I was lucky—I only ran into one. Otherwise, I wouldn't have made it back alive."

"One person—"

The Illusion lowered his eyelids, his index finger tapping unconsciously against his sleeve.

After a moment, he lifted his gaze, a flicker of understanding glinting in his dark red eyes: "I see."

Seeing this, the Dark Crow grinned: "Everyone else who heard this intelligence reached the same conclusion as you." He paused. "It's not hard to figure out.

The Plane Nuolun Workshop has only a handful of technologies that could serve as trump cards. Now that they've scattered their personnel, it's obvious what they're trying to set up."

The Illusion nodded: "Then our own deployments have likely been exposed."

According to the intelligence, at least two of the missing Level Seven Wizards from Plane Nuolun Workshop specialized in soulcraft.

Level Seven soulcraft Wizards roaming freely behind enemy lines—saying they couldn't locate our own trump card positions would be pure self-deception.

The Dark Crow shrugged; the missing shoulder caused the black fluid to ripple.

"Let them expose it. We're still a bit short on quantity, but it's enough to deploy right now." His tone was casual, carrying the calm of a seasoned veteran. "Trump cards aren't useless just because they're revealed early."

The Illusion nodded and dropped the subject.

He glanced at the Dark Crow's slowly regenerating limb and said briefly, "Rest well," then turned and walked out of the treatment room.

He needed to go to the command center.

At the very least, he had to log the spiritual force signature of Gao Jie Ming, extracted from the recent battle, into the camp's enemy intelligence database.

Then ensure every one of our active Level Five kids out there received a copy.

Let them—avoid that monster as much as possible.

Watching The Illusion's figure vanish behind the automatic door, the Dark Crow lay back into the treatment pod.

Only when the pod's lid sealed shut did the long-standing silence in the treatment room shatter with a stifled gasp.

The other Level Seven Wizards in the room exchanged glances, each seeing shock in the others' eyes.

The Illusion and the Dark Crow's conversation revealed a lot of intelligence, but the later details were matters for high-ranking officials—none of their concern.

But the earlier intelligence—

The first to speak was a Level Five Wizard near the door.

He lay in a partially enclosed treatment pod, half his body coated in regeneration gel, but the eye exposed widened like a bronze bell.

"Did I hear that right—" His voice was hoarse, dazed as if struck by lightning. "Did The Illusion get knocked into a nutrient tank by a Level Five Wizard?"

Another head, wrapped in bandages, popped out from a nearby pod. "He said 'defeated.' Defeated! Not escaped from his grasp! Not maneuvered around him! He was directly defeated!"

"That Level Five—is the one who killed the Annihilating Hand?"

"Who else could it be!"

"My god—"

Similar whispers spread through the treatment room like an epidemic.

The Level Five wounded, who had previously dared not speak out of respect for the higher-ranked Wizards, could no longer suppress their shock—they exchanged glances with nearby comrades, their eyes filled with unspoken emotion.

Fear. Disbelief. And something else—complex, indescribable.

They were Level Five Wizards.

They knew better than anyone what a Title Level Six Wizard meant.

They were beings to be looked up to, hunted in groups, and prayed not to encounter.

And now, someone told them a fellow Level Five Wizard had consecutively defeated two such beings.

Not maneuvered. Not escaped.

Defeated.

It was like dropping a bomb into a still pond—sending out massive ripples.

"Plane Nuolun Workshop—has a monster like that—"

Someone whispered.

No one contradicted.

Because that was the most accurate description—monster.

Some had already pulled out their magic-net terminals, eager to share the news with their comrades.

And the ripple spread rapidly.

From the treatment room, to the camp corridors.

From Level Five wounded, to visiting comrades.

From logistics Wizards recording battle losses, to frontline troops preparing for rotation.

The rumor that "Plane Nuolun Workshop has a Level Five Wizard who consecutively defeated two of our Title Level Six Wizards" swept through the lower-rank Wizards of the Tower of Oblivion like a silent gale.

Along with it came a subtle, indescribable shift in mindset.

A mix of fear, wariness, and a kind of admiration they themselves refused to admit.

And now, at the center of this storm—the young man called "monster"—

Was speeding through another stretch of empty space far from the battlefield, racing toward the camp with his companion.

As Gao Jie Ming and Black's figures passed through the outer defense barrier of the camp, their personal terminals vibrated simultaneously.

Gao Jie Ming glanced down—it was Viola's communication request.

"Go rest," he said briefly to Black.

The latter nodded understandingly, his form melting into the camp's shadows as he slipped toward the soulcraft Wizard's dedicated rest zone.

Gao Jie Ming turned and strode quickly along the main camp road toward the central command center.

Outside the command center, the familiar silver-gray figure was already waiting by the door.

Viola leaned against a metal pillar, arms crossed, her silver-gray eyes narrowing slightly as she spotted Gao Jie Ming, a faint, enigmatic smile on her lips.

Her gaze swept him from head to toe, then back again, as if inspecting some rare artifact.

"Tch." She finally let out an ambiguous hum. "Back alive, junior."

Gao Jie Ming stepped closer, immune to her sarcastic greeting, and merely nodded: "Lucky."

"Lucky?" Viola raised an eyebrow. "You defeated another Level Six Wizard, and you call that luck?"

Gao Jie Ming halted, looking at her.

Viola waved a hand. "Don't look at me like that. Your battle intel with him was submitted by Black after he returned. Even without the details, the log entry 'Encountered Level Six Wizard, successfully withdrew' was enough to surprise me."

Gao Jie Ming didn't dwell on it. "You said there was an emergency?"

"Inside," Viola turned, pushing open the side door to the command center and gesturing for him to follow. "But they're still in session. We'll have to wait."

They stopped outside the side door. Viola leaned against the wall; Gao Jie Ming stood opposite.

"I've got big news," Viola whispered, though her excited tone betrayed her. "We found the enemy's trump card."

Gao Jie Ming's pupils contracted slightly: "Found? Both the Chaos Cult and the Tower of Oblivion's?"

"Yes, both," Viola nodded. "During your mission, the two Level Seven soulcraft Wizards from the Workshop mobilized. They analyzed all reconnaissance data from the front lines, eliminated low-probability zones, then personally infiltrated to verify the few highest-probability coordinates."

"And—found them?"

"And found them," Viola spread her hands. "Precision strike. I have to say, when it comes to finding things, those soulcraft old men are professionals."

A surge of indescribable excitement rose in Gao Jie Ming.

What did this mean?

It meant they could destroy the enemy's war trump card in advance—meaning Plane Nuolun Workshop might gain a decisive advantage in this war!

"That's great!" he blurted. "If you found them, why not destroy them immediately?"

But Viola's expression wasn't as joyful as he expected.

She shook her head, a hint of helplessness flickering in her silver-gray eyes: "That's the problem—we found them, but we can't stop them."

Gao Jie Ming froze.

"What do you mean?" He frowned. "You found their trump card but can't stop it? Is it lack of manpower? Or are they too well-guarded?"

"Neither," Viola sighed. "The exact reason—you'll understand when you see the intel. I'm afraid I can't make you feel it just by telling you. Better to see it yourself."

Gao Jie Ming opened his mouth to press further, but Viola raised a hand to stop him, her gaze shifting to the sealed metal door at the end of the corridor.

"The meeting's almost over."

Indeed, moments later, the command center's metal door opened from within.

One after another, Level Seven Wizards filed out.

Their expressions varied—some frowned deeply, others looked grim, some appeared lost in thought.

Each one paused as they passed Gao Jie Ming, glancing at him—eyes filled with scrutiny, curiosity, and an indescribable complexity.

Gao Jie Ming felt uneasy under their stares, but kept his face calm.

Finally, Master Clark's gray figure appeared at the doorway.

His gaze passed over Viola and settled directly on Gao Jie Ming. In those deep, still eyes, something flickered faintly.

"Come in," Clark said succinctly, stepping aside to let him pass.

Viola gave Gao Jie Ming a look that said "let's go," and the two entered the command room one after the other.