"My Lord! You may be overestimating your subordinate's abilities. Everyone under my command combined probably wouldn't be enough for Toran to kill with a single hand…"
A bitter smile surfaced on Damianus's face.
He felt it was absolutely necessary to make the situation clear to the other party. Even though this person was a Bloodline Noble and a special envoy from headquarters, he couldn't very well be expected to walk to his death alongside him!
"Your people?"
Leylin was somewhat speechless. Just those first- and second-tier ones outside, with a few apprentices thrown in for good measure? They probably couldn't even break through this magical formation.
After all, Damianus's department was in charge of intelligence gathering. Leylin had never thought highly of their combat capabilities.
"Leave all of that to me. You just worry about managing your own people!"
Leylin said coldly, his body drifting up into midair without warning.
In the next instant, a powerful yet frigid wave of pressure, like a mountain bearing down, flooded the entire area.
"This—! This—! This—!"
Damianus stared at Leylin, his eyes bulging from their sockets. In his perception, Leylin — whose aura had been faint and no stronger than his own — had suddenly transformed into a fearsome behemoth!
Terrifying waves of energy continued to converge upon Leylin's body, breaking through the third-tier barrier in the blink of an eye, then surging ever higher, reaching a level that Damianus could not even begin to fathom.
"This Lord is no pampered Bloodline Noble — he's a true powerhouse!"
Damianus's eyes lit up. If he could forge a connection with Leylin, his future would be made. The dream of revitalizing his very clan might even become a reality!
"A Marquis! This Lord must hold the rank of Marquis! He's one of the organization's true upper echelon!"
Damianus clenched his fists, his cheeks flushed with excitement.
The bloodline within him, now that Leylin had fully released his suppression, actually trembled with an urge to drop to its knees.
This terrifying sense of majesty was something that even another Marquis had never been able to impose upon him.
As for what his subordinates were thinking, Leylin paid no attention.
He had released his own aura suppression, and by now he had already been detected by the other side.
At that moment, a stretch of forest before him was suddenly shrouded in thin mist — clearly, the other party had taken some measures of their own.
"Who is the Wizard outside? This is merely a reclusive organization. We do not accept visitors or trades from outsiders!"
Brilliant radiance erupted, forming an enormous barrier of protective light, all manner of runes flickering across its surface — it looked far from welcoming. Coupled with the other party's resolute tone, any Wizard who stumbled upon this place by accident would normally choose to retreat.
Unfortunately, Leylin was no ordinary Wizard. He even carried a mission to exterminate them.
"Is that the Hand of Retribution?"
Leylin hovered calmly above the Wizard Formation, his voice transmitted through the barriers. This was his final confirmation; he didn't want any misunderstandings.
"Warlocks of the Ring of Serpents?!"
A pulse of probing light flashed, and the voice immediately turned sharp, the hatred within it enough to startle even Leylin.
However, now that it was confirmed, matters became simple.
Leylin's eyes were cold and indifferent. In his view, this kind of pure conflict over interests was never about right or wrong—it was simply a matter of winners taking all.
At that same moment, within the Wizard Formation, above a cluster of buildings.
The witch who had just spoken stared at a blood-red crystal in her hand, her expression twisted with rage.
"Teacher, what's wrong?"
A young witch, appearing eighteen or nineteen with a hint of youthful roundness still on her face, approached the first witch and asked.
"It's the Ring of Serpents! Those damnable warlocks have tracked us here!"
The previously speaking witch had the appearance of a woman in her late thirties or early forties, with a shapely figure that likely made her a beauty once, but a massive, cross-shaped scar on her face utterly ruined the effect.
"The Ring of Serpents?"
The young witch inhaled sharply. In her mind, that was a name synonymous with devils and monster lairs—the warlocks within were all demons who would devour a person whole.
"They've found their way here this time. I fear the situation has become incredibly dangerous. When the time comes, I will hold them off, and you must escape alone!"
The scarred witch turned her head, her face utterly grave as she gave her instructions.
"Me first? But what about Hao Ke and Finny?" The childlike witch was stunned by these words.
"At a time like this, how can we worry about them?" The scarred witch's face held a bitter smile as she looked down at the increasingly chaotic crowd below.
"I never thought they would actually find this place!" At that moment, several other wizards also flew into the air. An elderly male wizard with grizzled hair sighed.
"Let's fight them to the end! What is there to fear?" The speaker was a burly, middle-aged wizard, missing one eye, with the head of a tiger.
Rumble!!
At that very instant, the entire Wizard Formation shuddered violently, its protective barrier of light flickering wildly.