The Golem Mage

757: Troubles.

757: Troubles.

Days passed, and the Gordon elders still remained unaware of the true extent of Alec’s training methods, though they had granted him full authority over the mages under his command, but the sight of these mages returning back from their training half-conscious and completely drained made them question what exactly he was putting them through.

Though they still wanted to say out of it all but they were still concerned about some other details, so they called for a meeting to discuss how they could provide support silently, especially since Alec had refused any financial assistance from them, insisting that he would fund the War expenses himself to prove his idea right.

“Given the seriousness of this situation, it’s only right that we support them however we can,” the First Elder said, his tone laced with worry.

After all his daughter was among those preparing for the Blood Moon War, alongside the clan’s most promising young talents.

The Patriarch leaned forward, his expression unreadable.

“So, what exactly do you propose?”

“Simple,” the First Elder replied.

“We would have better armour crafted, especially the ones that covers multiple parts of their bodies, that way, they’ll have better protection against the zombie virus in fights.”

But before he could continue, the Grand Elder cut in.

“That would be ideal… if we still had a Top Low rank forger under our command.”

Silence settled over the room, everyone present knew the reality of their situation, their contracted forgers had long left after their agreements expired, and while some juniors had trained under them, their skills were far from mastery.

“Talent alone doesn’t make one a proficient forger,” the Grand Elder added with a sigh.

While a few of their juniors had learned the craft from the forgers the Gordons clan had under their service, the best they could produce was Tier 2 spirit equipment, and even then, their output was painfully slow.

So therefore relying on a few juniors still practicing the art of forging to equip an entire force?

That was a gamble the clan couldn’t afford to take.

“Well, despite all this, it wouldn’t sit well if we simply folded our hands and did nothing,” the Patriarch said, his voice firm.

“What we can do now is instruct the kids in the forging area to focus solely on crafting as much spirit armour as possible, for the time being, they can set aside any attempts at making weapons.”

He glanced around the room before continuing.

“Our priority is ensuring they produce as many pieces of armour as they can, stockpiling every last one until the day of battle, then, we’ll surprise Alec and his squad with our support, something they won’t see coming, we may be short on funds, but we have enough to at least equip a few of our low rank mages.”

A small smile played on his lips as the other elders nodded in agreement to his suggestion.

They knew Alec didn’t want their interference, but in this case, they believed their actions would only boost morale, and the Patriarch was already picturing Alec’s stunned expression when he presented the armour to some low rank mages under him to help boost the morale of the mages.

—

But while the Gordon elders had the luxury of strategizing in relative ease and laziness due to leaving everything to Alec as talked about, the other clans preparing for the war weren’t as fortunate.

Many of them were only now beginning to feel the weight of their decision realizing, with growing dread, that only seven days remained before the battle.

Although the City Lord had assured them that the city gates had been repaired and could withstand the next wave, but most clans remained sceptical.

After all, the repairs had been completed in a rush, using only the limited resources available within the city.

So, despite the City Lord’s bold claims, it was clear to everyone that the gates were nowhere near the ‘hundred percent’ strength he insisted upon.

Though the city gates had no direct impact on those fighting in battle, many clans were still using them as an excuse to back out of their duties.

They claimed they didn’t trust the gates to hold after even a small breach, arguing that if the defences failed early on, countless defenceless residents would lose their lives.

And if such should ever happen only those clans exempted from the battle would be confident in their own ability to gather all their strength to protect their territories and clan grounds, and that is why some of those clans supposed to fight made a petitioned to be exempt from the upcoming war, stating they needed to safeguard their people instead.

However, the City Lord firmly rejected these requests, warning that any clan that refused to participate would be charged as deserters under the Northern Kingdom’s laws.

A charge like that wasn’t just a slap on the wrist, it meant total annihilation.

If a clan was branded as deserters and found guilty for not complying with the Northern laws to protect the city they reside in, every single member of such clan would be wiped out.

That threat alone was enough to silence many dissenters, especially those who lacked the influence to pressure the City Lord.

But the City Lord wasn’t just being stubborn, he knew fully well that if he gave in to even one clan, the rest would demand the same exemption.

And it would set off a chain reaction, and before long, most of the city’s forces would abandon the battlefield, leaving the city completely vulnerable, and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

The real reason so many clans were now hesitating wasn’t because of the gates, it was because they had seen first-hand the devastating losses suffered in the last battle.

Although they had managed to repel the zombies at the last moment, it was a Pyrrhic victory.

Too many lives had been lost to keep the city standing, even those who had survived carried the pain of losing loved ones in battle.

And now, the clans tasked with taking the frontlines in the upcoming war were beginning to understand that pain and it terrified them.

–

#War God Mage Academy Grounds

“With the Blood Moon drawing nearer, we’ve received even more requests for the academy’s assistance, are we just going to overlook them?” the new Dean asked, his expression serious.

Across the room, Old Man Alderic barely looked up from his desk, where he was busy managing what seemed to be records for the logistics department of the War God Mage Academy.

“Of course, we’ll overlook it.

My so-called mercy eyes was blinded the moment my academy was treated like a beggar sect,” Old Man Alderic scoffed, his voice laced with disdain.

“I don’t care how many lives are lost or how many cities fall, all I hope for is to see the capital city wiped off the face of this planet.

Let’s see how much desperation the next Blood Moon attack will force upon the Royal Family.”

He leaned back in his chair, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

“From the Demonkin’s latest movements, it’s clear that the Lord Protector of the Northern realm won’t last much longer.

Ha!

The capital center is about to become a true battlefield, where even High-Rank Mages will be nothing more than junior soldiers, and Monarch Realm experts will have to take the frontlines.”

Alderic’s gaze sharpened.

“The Royal Clan has grown complacent, their so-called peace nothing but an illusion, just because they’ve been untouched by war for too long, but that’s about to change now, I just wonder…

is that old thieving king truly prepared?”

The New Dean smirked, intrigued.

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by old thieving king, but if this brings misfortune to the Royal Clan, I’m all for it.”

Alderic nodded, satisfied.

“By the way, I want you to send someone to that young boy’s clan—a Tier 7 Mage, at least.

Someone to keep an eye on him in case things go sideways.”

“You mean Alec?”

“Of course,” Alderic confirmed.

“Send Terran.

He’s been locked up too long, itching for a fight since he wasn’t allowed to enter the Second Dimension for a rampage, let him burn off that pent-up rage while protecting his students…

in case things take a turn for the worse.”