Chapter 850: The Thief
Once, a level thirty-nine magical beast migrated past the Caucasus tribe. The Caucasus Battlemages managed to drive it away, but they knew this beast was extremely vindictive and would surely return for revenge.
That very day, someone saw King Cristo leave the tribe. Early the next morning, the corpse of that magical beast was found several miles away, with no signs of a major battle nearby.
Another time, conflict between the Caucasus Battlemages and the Black Tower escalated. The opposing side seemed intent on attacking the Caucasus Highlands, gathering their forces to strike together. The Caucasus Battlemages kept retreating; the difference in numbers was impossible to overcome. Even though every Caucasus Battlemage was stronger than an ordinary mage of the same rank, there was still another fatal flaw they could not avoid.
Compared to Auckland, there were simply too few people in the Caucasus Highlands, and even fewer who could truly become Caucasus Battlemages.
Faced with ten times, even dozens of times, the number of enemy mages, the Caucasus Battlemages had no good solution.
At that moment, King Cristo left the tribe once again, even departing from the Caucasus Highlands. Within days, the allied forces gathered by the Black Tower withdrew.
From then on, people from the Black Tower would no longer appear in the Caucasus Highlands, and the Caucasus Battlemages would no longer show up in Auckland.
Occasional incidents of lone individuals being caught and killed still happened, but large-scale warfare never broke out again.
With this rare peace, the Caucasus Highlands began to develop and prosper.
At this moment, a deep, resonant male voice echoed from within the crystal orb.
"No matter the cost."
With that single sentence, the light within the crystal orb faded away, returning it to its usual, unremarkable state.
Daryl pondered for a moment. For matters like these, it was best to continue seeking out Master Leon...
While Daryl was reporting these events to Cristo, the Legion Commander found himself growing more and more aggrieved beneath the fortress. His own disciple had nearly drowned in the mire, and just as he was about to unleash his full wrath on Master Leon, Daryl intervened first and stopped him.
And yet, that damned Master Leon wasn’t harmed in the slightest, while we’re the ones facing punishment. Kempes was sent off to mine Thunderstrike Ore at Thunderstrike Peak, and the elite hands under my command were likewise condemned to dig.
Even I was reprimanded. Though it wasn’t a real punishment—just a symbolic order not to leave camp without permission—anyone could see it was a warning not to seek retribution against Master Leon.
When did the Caucasus Battlemages become so pathetic? After being bullied by that detestable Auckland mage, we’re punished by our own people as well. Even I, the Commander of the Caucasus Battlemage Legion, am to be disciplined in name.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it...
That damned Auckland mage must die. Yes, he must die. Once he’s dead...