Pillar of Yita

The meteor trailed an azure tail, glittering brightly as though it were the dividing line of the sky, piercing through the clouds, a solitary tether descending straight towards the depths of the Green Dragon Mountain Range.

Below the earth, amidst the abyss’s crevice, molten lava churned like a fire of golden red hues, casting reflections on the deep blue velvet hem of Fang Hong’s overcoat, making him appear as though he stood amid blazing flames, and behind him, atop the sturdy layers of the abyss’s rock, a tremendous force of Ether power was swiftly approaching.

He raised his right hand and, with a straight downward swipe, a continuous blue radiance suddenly flashed in the darkness right at his fingertip’s boundary. Over a hundred dodecagram arrays unfolded simultaneously in arc shapes, and at the center of these arrays, resembling an artificial celestial body, boundless light converged to a point, like the birth of a supernova.

The blinding light swallowed everything.

The young man’s mouth opened and closed, as if he was yelling something, but the vibration of the Ether replaced the sound in the air, and the world at that moment was utterly silent, like a mute pantomime, projecting only the measure of time deep into everyone’s eyes.

That measure of time was the speed of light passing by.

Above the colossal dome of light, the arrays moved with the precision of gears, each tooth aligning with the scale, the blue light extending forward, a tidal wave of radiance sweeping all, like a massive broom that pushed the undead near the relics from behind into the abyss below.

Wherever the Sea of Light passed, dark beings were reduced to ash.

And where moments before there were hundreds, even thousands of undead, the next they were reduced to mere piles of residual ash.

But the spell did not end there, it continued forward, like a majestic flow of brilliance, after clearing all visible undead from sight, suddenly rose higher at the end of the relics, forming a beautiful arch.

It soared into the abyss, covering hundreds of meters to connect with another pillar of rock in that direction, creating a long arch shimmering with Blue Luster between two solitary relics.

In but a moment, the arc in the darkness leaped again, bridging yet further distant pillars. It continuously drew lines of azure arches, until every pillar within the abyss was connected.

And thus, ultimately, a grand Light’s Bridge, spanning across the abyss, came into existence.

It seemed just like the mythical bridge of rainbows ridden by knights of war and valorous ladies—in its presence, the valiant knights tread with ease, unstoppable, and it was indeed the namesake of this top-tier Campaign Level magic.

The Scepter of Authority of Marlan, War Bridge.

And those survivors, watching the unfolding, were as if stricken by a Petrification Magic.

Although Class A—Campaign Level magic is something nearly every Guild has the capacity to produce, the ”Stargate Declaration” strictly forbids the use of such magic during conflicts between guilds, and in fact, not just the Invokers but Earth’s nations and Natives have also signed a supplementary clause to the ”Stargate Declaration.”

Similar to Earth’s ”Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty,” there are strict limitations on the use of Campaign Magic across the continent—under non-war, non-disaster, and non-emergency circumstances, it’s a principle that nations are not allowed the casual use of Class A magic.

Let alone the even higher echelon of A2 Level magic.

And naturally, these people were no fools; they understood that the appearance of Class A magic signified a major event.

Though they did not grasp the identities of these Silver Weslan individuals, it did not prevent them from forming some rather unpleasant associations, especially after the cataclysmic events that had transpired, which had already given them a sense something was amiss.

What happened was clearly not describable by an ordinary earthquake.

After the Sea of Light passed, that young Native finally had the opportunity to ask loudly, ”Excuse me, everyone, what in the world is going on...?”

But Fang Hong had no time to deal with these people.

The military’s Campaign Spell’s primary purpose was not Attack—the undead beneath them were endless, and Attack was only a minor function of the spell, which had not even managed to clear this small area.

In the darkness, the rustling sound returned quickly, Dark Forces gathering within the shadows to form a new legion of Undead Creatures. Fang Hong could even see their sly eyes converging among the ruins.

It wouldn’t take long for them to mount another Attack.

Those survivors were also aware of this and looked quite unsettled.

At that moment, Virus also reminded them through the channel, ”Be careful, the woman has Scouted that the undead are gathering on both your flanks, and their numbers have already surpassed the danger level. You must leave this place immediately. By the way, the strength of the undead has now exceeded Level 15. There have been reports of observed drowned corpses—”

Fang Hong nodded. He understood the woman Virus referred to was Nether, and it was common knowledge that Virus didn’t particularly get along with her.

But he had already taken note of the things she mentioned.

At that moment, those survivors, heads bowed, were searching the community for answers, when suddenly someone cried out in alarm. Besides that Native, everyone’s complexion turned rather unsightly. Fang Hong, observing their expressions, knew they had seen the messages posted by the military above the community.

He then asked, ”Feeling like death is certain?”

The people were taken aback.

Indeed, they harbored that thought in their hearts, for never in their wildest dreams had they imagined that a mere trial task could lead to such a cascade of events, that Toragotos would betray Colin Ishurian in an attempt to resurrect as a Dark Deity.