**Chapter 50: A Trap in Plain Sight**
“I suggest we wait for Priest Ant and Knight Commander Ruerls to return before finalizing plans,” the young knight proposed.
Ant and Ruerls were the coalition’s top leaders, their combined strength rivaling what the wizards called a “first-rank formal wizard.”
This time, they led over a hundred elite warriors to investigate that eerie region.
“No!” the earlier knight commander rejected firmly. “The front lines are retreating, and those wizard apprentices are drunk on victory, starting to gather on their own. This is our best chance for a full assault! If we miss it and they scatter or grow wary, our plan will be much harder to execute.”
“Exactly. Sacrificing clear gains for an unknown enemy is unwise.”
“Ant and Ruerls are strong enough to handle that area and join us later.”
Despite the young knight’s gnawing unease, the other leaders’ insistence forced him to relent.
He chose to trust in Ant and Ruerls’ strength, their legend of being undefeated.
He believed that with those two leaders and a hundred elite knights, any enemy could be crushed.…
…
Meanwhile, in the “unknown region” marked by the native leaders, on a wasteland of layered ash and unrecognizable debris…
Jie Ming stood on the ground, surrounded by the acrid smell of scorched earth and lingering smoke. The landscape was a blackened expanse, as if cleansed by fire.
This horrifying scene was his doing alone.
“How bizarre,” Jie Ming muttered, frowning at the ashes beneath his feet.
He had only been gathering materials when a large group of natives suddenly attacked, their numbers overwhelming, as if intent on drowning him.
But it meant little to him. Jie Ming unleashed a saturated barrage of firepower, “plowing” through the natives and the area itself.
His runic wizard tool displayed terrifying destructive power in the frenzied elemental environment, turning the place into a hellscape in mere minutes.
Using Analysis Technique, he scanned the surrounding energy fluctuations and quickly locked onto a faint, lingering life signature.
Approaching, Jie Ming found a native in full heavy armor, its craftsmanship and material far superior to those he’d encountered before—a leader, no doubt.
But this leader was now only half a body, split vertically.
Carefully confirming no danger with Alchemy and Analysis Technique, Jie Ming crouched and lifted the charred, broken visor.
Beneath was half a face scarred heavily, eyes burning with defiance and rage.
The figure’s mouth twitched, struggling to speak.
A hoarse voice, thick with blood, rasped from what might no longer be a throat.
Jie Ming tilted his head, trying to sense the other’s mental fluctuations to understand.
Unfortunately, the native’s language and mental transmission were entirely alien to him, incomprehensible.
He could only watch as the light in the figure’s eyes faded, life slipping away.
“Muttering nonsense—probably not anything nice,” Jie Ming grumbled, feeling unfairly scolded.
“Could there be a major native stronghold nearby? Did I cross their alert line and get mistaken for an invader?” he wondered, puzzled. “Talk about bad luck. I didn’t have any bad intentions… though, I suppose I *am* an invader in this plane.”
Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought.
Deploying Alchemy and Analysis Technique, Jie Ming suddenly fired several fireballs at a distant point.
*Boom…*
The distant explosion echoed. Approaching, he saw several charred bodies, faces frozen in terror.
They were likely part of the native team, hiding at the rear.
Unfortunately, Jie Ming had detected them.
In this lifeless wasteland, Jie Ming’s weakness in detection witchcraft was compensated. Alchemy traced material and soul fluctuations, while Analysis Technique caught subtle energy shifts. Together, they ensured no living presence in the wasteland could hide from him.
…
At the other end of the Limestone Realm, in a temporary wizard apprentice camp…
Exhausted apprentices sat together, sharing newly acquired intelligence and potions.
Despite their weary state, the camp’s atmosphere lifted with a fresh piece of news.
“Did you hear? Word’s out!” an apprentice whispered, eyes gleaming with excitement. “The native coalition’s leader base has been found!”
“What? Their leaders?!”
“Real or fake? Where?!”
“They say it’s in a hidden valley deep in the plane. A scouting wizard risked their life to send back the intel. The natives thought no one could find their headquarters.”
The news spread like wildfire, and the apprentices exchanged glances, their eyes flickering with varied emotions.
The intelligence was too easily obtained—so easy that nearly every apprentice saw it for what it likely was: a trap.
Yet, with Horn, Augusta, and other geniuses’ stunning battlefield performances, the apprentices’ view of the natives had shifted.
They’d seen how effortlessly the geniuses broke through native blockades, crushing seemingly formidable knights and shamans.
These examples, combined with the advancing front lines, fueled the apprentices’ excitement, subconsciously diminishing the perceived threat of the natives.
Even recognizing the trap, they weren’t fazed.
“A trap? So what? With Lady Augusta and Young Master Horn’s strength, no trap can stop them!”
“Exactly! The natives’ traps might work on us ordinary apprentices, but those geniuses can rival formal wizards!”
“The key is, since the Academy set the natives as our trial, killing their leaders will surely earn massive points!”
Greed for merits, blind faith in the geniuses, and underestimation of the enemy intertwined, driving the apprentices to a decision.
“Let’s go! To that valley!”
“Even if it’s risky, following Lady Augusta and Young Master Horn, we’ll get a share of the spoils!”
For the promise of rewards, more and more apprentices gathered, coordinating and forming larger teams.