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Nearly a kilometer from the ranger's cabin stood a towering black spruce, and within its dense, deep-green canopy that bordered on black, a hazy, indistinct human figure seemed to be hidden.
After planting the message at "Larnaca Gorge," Lucian had made his way here, waiting quietly and cautiously for the clash between the Church and the Silver White Horn.
With his own strength, Lucian didn't dare get anywhere near the ranger's cabin, fearing the cult would detect him directly.
At the moment, Lucian wore a black robe, the hood shrouding his entire face in darkness. A layer of frost-like moonlight coated both his hands as he braced himself against a branch, letting his body sway with the rustling of the leaves. Behind the shadow of the hood, his eyes were fixed intently on the direction of the ranger's cabin. When the light signal shot into the sky only to be devoured by ripples, Lucian quickly calculated the angle and worked out the Silver White Horn's true hiding spot.
"About ninety meters northwest of the ranger's cabin."
Once the light signal was intercepted, the black forest a kilometer away began to intermittently blaze with various lights — pure sacred light, scorching flames, black shadows, and cold white radiance among them.
Lucian maintained the focused calm required for spellcasting, watching these "fireworks" expressionlessly. Only when they grew increasingly concentrated did he nod softly and say, "They've started converging. The perimeter has left me room to infiltrate."
As he assessed the situation, Lucian glanced in another direction. "With this much commotion, she must have noticed by now. After all, the distance isn't too great, and there are no mountain peaks blocking the way in between."
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The "Keeper of the Tome" flipped ceaselessly through the "Holy Scripture" in his hands. "Flame Strike," "Slay," "Serious Wounds," "Fifth-Tier Angel Summoning" and other spells erupted one after another, leveling nearly all of the black forest within a five-hundred-meter radius. Several Dark Knights perished under his Divine Arts without any chance to fight back, and all detection arrays and traps set up within that range were forcefully destroyed, severing the High Priest's awareness of the situation above from within the "Underground Palace."
A fifth-tier bishop — a caster approaching the high ranks — fully demonstrated his terrifying destructive power. But what was even more fearsome was that as the Holy Scripture turned its pages, the Keeper of the Tome would often, in the midst of direct casting, flash a burst of sacred light that instantly restored a badly wounded Night Watch member to full health, allowing them to slay their enemies.
A priest who commanded healing Divine Arts was a blessing to all allies and a nightmare to all foes. After all, just when you had nearly finished off an enemy, they suddenly shook off their wounds and recovered to full strength and full condition on the spot — no matter who you were, that would erode your resolve bit by bit. And among the eighteen remaining Night Watch members, six were priests!
Thus, the twenty-something Dark Knights and grotesque creatures, when outnumbered, had been able to use ambushes and assassinations to successfully kill nearly ten Night Watch members. But once the other side regrouped and consolidated, they could only take down three more — while suffering losses two to three times that number themselves. The tide of battle had quickly turned against them.
But then, a wave of darkness swept in, filled with spine-chilling chittering and clicking sounds, as if countless tiny creatures lurked within.
And creatures they truly were. A dense swarm of black insects — packed together like a dark cloud — after having been largely decimated by several Divine Arts, still enveloped the eighteen Night Watch members on all sides.
Several priests attempted to continue casting Divine Arts, but their entire bodies went numb and itchy, making it impossible to maintain spellcasting focus. Their spells failed immediately.
Their Sacred Light Shields had been gnawed straight through by the insects. Tiny black bugs crawled and bit at them all over their bodies.
The priests and several other Night Watch members began to weaken, their foreheads growing burning hot. Only someone like Minsk, whose defense and constitution were both particularly suited to countering the black insect swarm, could barely hold on.
Even so, Minsk was starting to struggle. "These insects' bites are equivalent to Divine Art weapons or Arcane Magic weapons!"
This was the fifth-tier forbidden art (quasi-Divine Art) known as "Plague Swarm," cast jointly by five cult priests.
Over twenty cult clergymen, led by their priests, burst up through the exit of the Underground Palace just in time, surrounding the Night Watch members near the cabin.
"Freezing Touch," "Curse of Despair," "Extreme Cold Shadow" and various other forbidden arts were unleashed — some as direct attacks, others in support — pressing down the advantage the Night Watch had so painstakingly gained.
The Keeper of the Tome, relying on the Holy Scripture and his own abilities, continuously cast "Restoration," "Cure Disease" and other Divine Arts in coordination with the Black Gloves' anti-magic power to restore the priests' combat effectiveness. Meanwhile, several Night Watch members clad in silver armor took up positions at the forefront with practiced coordination.
As the priests were restored one after another, auxiliary and aura Divine Arts — "Divine Grace," "Divine Might," "Spirit of Valor," "Prayer" and others — were layered onto the four silver-armored Night Watch members one by one, greatly enhancing their strength, constitution, agility, and willpower. The remaining Night Watch members, like the Clown and Minsk, worked to shield them from the attacks of the cult priests, clergymen, and Dark Knights.
Empowered by the Divine Arts, the four Night Watch members raised their two-handed greatswords in unison, shouting aloud as they charged forward in perfect formation.
Their Black Gloves blazed with a dim, ominous glow. An indescribable calm and depth radiated from their bodies. The greatswords they swung appeared entirely ordinary at first glance, yet they were tinged with a faint black light imbued by both their wielders and the Black Gloves.