Chapter 190: Entering the Wizard Council

Lei Badun swung his sleeve violently, shattering the holographic star map; the flying magical fragments turned in midair into eerie blue blood droplets.

The projections of the Eastern Mountains and Southern Swamps still flickered in the corner, but he stared fixedly at the flat plain where the Western Realm meets the Central region, as if he could see the Western nobles' army ready to march through the magical image.

"The Eastern rebels are nothing but a scabies disease!" He kicked over the gem‑inlaid stool, the jade scattering to the ground and crushing into powder, "Southern pirates struggle even to chew mud in the swamps!"

The crystal chandelier roared and shook violently, casting his distorted shadow onto the massive map marked "Four Central Provinces," "Only the Western Realm—this undefended plain—is like a Sharp Blade hanging at my throat!"

Chief Speaker Suoluo Si's gaunt fingers brushed the border lines on the map; his violet pupils rippled with a sinister sheen: "Your Highness is absolutely right. Between the Western Realm and the Central region lies a level plain; though the new frontier of the Central provinces is unfinished, the Knight Guild can muster over ten thousand knights within half a month—its potential must not be underestimated."

He tapped his wand lightly, and a projection of the Dragon‑Slayer Spear burst forth, "More importantly, the Dragon‑Slayer Spear has already emerged; the Purple Orchid Organization should have long been in contact with the Bawier Continent. We must strike swiftly; once the Star Gate opens, it will be too late."

Lei Badun's pupils suddenly constricted: "You mean those legendary Star Gates?"

"Exactly." Suoluo Si hoarsely laughed, his hood revealing half a face covered in rune tattoos, "Once the Star Gate opens, powerful beings will come from the Bawier Continent. However…" He gathered a wisp of eerie green poison mist at his fingertips, "the Wizard Council has long been researching new spells to suppress the Star Gate."

"Did it succeed?" Lei Badun squinted, his calculation of this old fox crystal clear.

"Naturally, but the price is rather high."

Suoluo Si's answer made Lei Badun's eyes narrow slightly.

"What price?"

Suoluo Si's knobby fingers tapped the table lightly: "The magic ore vein in the Western Realm after the war, and the Gatekeeper. I need his blood to complete the forbidden transmutation ritual."

"Fine." Lei Badun's dragon‑crystal staff slammed heavily onto the characters "Western Realm," the rune‑flaring light scorching a blackened hole in the map, "but I want your Wizard army to pour out! Those wall‑corroding poison mists, the spells that can make an entire forest burn for months." His voice dropped, hissing like a venomous snake, "We must use the cruelest means to let the Western Realm know who truly rules the Empire."

Outside, thunder cracked explosively, and a torrential downpour poured down.

Lei Badun stared at the faint silhouette of the imperial city towers through the rain, his fingernails digging deep into his palm: "After we settle the Western Realm, the Eastern and Southern jump‑beam clowns are merely post‑autumn grasshoppers."

Suoluo Si bowed in the shadows, his hooded bone claws silently weaving a death‑spell net over the Western Realm: "I am ready to serve Your Highness with dog‑and‑horse labor. On the night of tomorrow's lunar eclipse, the first batch of Wizards will infiltrate the Western Realm. This war will surely turn blood into rivers."

On the night of the lunar eclipse, ink‑thick black clouds cloaked the sky, and the twilight forest at the border of the Western Realm and the Central provinces warped and twisted in the faint magical glow.

Three hundred elite members of the Wizard Council formed the "Hand of Judgment" unit, moving silently; they wore white robes etched with runes, their hooded eyes flickering like eerie green ghost‑flames, and the grimoires and artifacts they bore glowed ominously in the night.

At the center of the unit, Wizard Council elder Mola raised his wand, the dark‑moon stone at its tip flaring instantly: "Increase the pace! The lunar eclipse power will soon peak; we must reach the heart of the Western Realm before dawn." Before the words finished, the ground trembled, countless vines burst from the earth, coiling around the Wizards' ankles like living things.

"It's a Black Wizard!" a young wizard shouted, his wand just forming a fireball when a black silhouette pierced his chest instantly.

A grim laugh echoed through the woods as dozens of Black Wizards, their black robes embroidered with skull symbols, emerged from the shadows; their faces were covered with twisted rune tattoos, and the bone staffs they wielded exuded a nauseating putrid odor.

The Hand of Judgment quickly formed a formation; Mola's wand traced complex rune patterns, and an eerie blue magical barrier rose instantly: "These are the fragments of 'Whispers of the Dead' and 'Fallen Angel'! Hit them to death!"

Both sides' magic clashed fiercely among the trees, purple lightning intertwining with green poison mist, casting the entire forest like a furnace of hell.

A Black Wizard brandished his bone staff, summoning dozens of rotting giant wolves.

These wolves' flesh peeled back, white bones exposed, their eyes burning with eerie green ghost‑flames.

The Hand of Judgment's wizards unleashed spells, ice spears and flames soaring together, tearing the giant wolves to pieces.

But soon, the Black Wizards summoned new monsters from the corpses, and the battle stalled.

Mola's pupils suddenly constricted; he sensed a massive Magic Wave emanating from deep within the forest.

"Watch out! Their leader has arrived!" Before the words finished, a blood‑red column of light shot upward, and a Black Wizard clad in a blood‑red robe descended through the air.

His face was hidden by his hood, and the staff he held bore a throbbing heart at its tip, emitting a heart‑pounding aura.

"I am Grand Elder Kaien of the Fallen Angel Sect," the Black Wizard's voice seemed to come from Nine Nether Hell, "the Wizard Council dares to meddle with the Western Realm; today is your burial ground!"

Kaien's staff swung heavily, the ground cracking open huge fissures, countless skeletal soldiers crawled up from below, and simultaneously, a blood‑red rain fell from the sky, corroding the Hand of Judgment's magical barrier.

Mola clenched his teeth, drew a crystal etched with ancient runes from his chest, and said, "Activate 'Lunar Eclipse Fury'!"

Three hundred wizards simultaneously poured Magic Power into the crystal, which burst with dazzling light, forming a massive lunar eclipse magic circle.

From the circle shot countless eerie blue beams, enveloping the skeletal soldiers and Black Wizards.

Kaien sneered, the heart at his staff's tip suddenly swelled, turning into a massive blood‑red vortex: "You think you can? Let me crush you!"

The blood‑red vortex devoured all the beams and surged toward the Hand of Judgment.

Mola, seeing the unfavorable turn, shouted, "Scatter and break out!" The wizards hurriedly cast teleportation spells, trying to evade the attack.

At that moment, another powerful Magic Wave surged in.

This time appeared the leader of the Whispers of the Dead organization—Lich Falken.

His body was semi‑transparent, floating in the air, and the staff in his hand bore a massive skull at its tip.

"Kaien, don't forget our pact—no member of the Wizard Council may live!" Falken's voice scraped like fingernails on glass, chilling to the bone.

(End of Chapter)