“How’s Agus recovering so far?” Borlon asked Cassius.
“He’s recovering fast. Agus will be all good in another two months,” answered Cassius.
After sustaining grievous injuries, the man of bronze was quickly placed under the care of Odis. It was thanks to the level-four Himmelritter’s close watch that Agus was healing quicker than expected.
“Oh, that’s fast.” Borlon was caught by surprise. Level-three Himmelritters typically required half a year to recuperate from severe injuries. Not to mention, Agus was near death when he was rescued.
“But I guess it does make sense. Botania is the producer of Botanian essence, after all.” Borlon arrived at that after much thought. The essence was sufficiently potent even for level-three and four lifeforms. As long as there was enough of it, an injured level-three lifeform could return to health in no time.
“It’s great news but Agus has been moody recently.” Cassius chuckled slightly. He had remained in close contact with his father so Agus’ recovery progress was made known.
Without a doubt, Agus was level-four Himmelritter Odis’ most promising disciple. He was meant to be the middle pillar of the current planar war, which was why Odis had permitted him unlimited access to their resources. However, Agus had been in low spirits because his massive accumulation of Botanian essence had been depleted for the sake of recovery. He also felt incredibly indebted to the Hall of Knights since he had consumed an abundance of recovery potions and others.
If he wasn’t Odis’ pupil, the merit points required for his potion consumption would have him working as free labour for the next thirty years.
“Haha.” Borlon laughed at the thought of Agus’ miserable expression. “By the way, what happened to the pomegranate Botanian in Battlezone 4?” The seasoned Himmelritter had been caught up with deployment affairs in the headquarters so he hadn’t been keeping up with the frontlines.
“Eugen is off to deal with it.”
Eugen was a demi-god Ritter and a user of terra impetus. The peak level-three Ritter was Agus’ replacement at the forefront of their contingent.
The pomegranate had been the most recent level-three Botanian presence. After causing considerable damage to the knights, leaders had quickly sent a dozen Ritters after it. It was shocking that four level-two Ritters had succumbed to their wounds after getting injured badly.
The most pressing concern, however, was that the pomegranate had landed severe damages to a level-three Himmelritter as well. The death of a level-three elite would be a huge blow to both the Sanctum and Hall of Knights alike. There had been a concerning rise in elite deaths recently; they’d laid two level-three Ritters to rest beneath the soil of Botania.
“Ah, all will be well if it’s Eugen.” Borlon’s tensed features went lax. As the appointed general, he shouldered the heaviest burden of the invasion. Cassius may be the main person in charge of the planar war but meticulous execution of strategies were still within Borlon’s scope.
“How’s the Sanctum doing so far?” Borlon turned to look at the black-robed elder, Mist.
The Magister scratchy voice rang a beat later. “One of our level-three Magisters has sustained substantial injuries. They won’t be participating in the remainder of our war."
There were only eight level-three Magisters, including Mist, that were dispatched to Botania. The absence of any one of them would pose a significant impact on the Sanctum’s higher battle force. The black-robed elder promptly quieted down again.
Though the Sanctum and Hall of Knights shared close relations, certain information was still kept confidential from one another. If it wasn't for the involvement of level-four Himmelritter Odis, Mist would’ve ignored Borlon.
The war was evidently fierce judging from the losses alone. The presence of a level-three lifeform did nothing to guarantee survival. Knechts were dying at an alarming rate. More than seventy thousand of five hundred thousand high-rank Knechts were dead, which was a major issue to the Hall of Knights.
Fortunately, their losses were temporary. After the successful weakening of Fertilia and Wilderia, the continents could barely keep up with their retaliation. There were far too many openings for their own good, allowing the invaders to plunder them clean.
There were also some unexpected events. The increasing appearance of level-three Botanians had taken the Sanctum and Hall of Knights by surprise, which dampened the overall momentum of the invasion.
It felt almost as if these level-three Botanians were manifested out of thin air. Though they weren’t the strongest, they outnumbered the total of level-three Magisters and Ritters. This had posed great disruption to Borlon’s plans but they weren’t the least bit frightened. The Hall of Knights was merely more concerned about sacrificing too much of their manpower to the war.
Save for a few formidable ones, most of the level-three Botanians were no match for the Himmelritters and level-three Magisters. All they needed to do now was to entrust these difficult opponents to the professionals.
“If there’s nothing else to talk about, please excuse me.” The black-robed elder stood and an inky purple portal began to whirl around him. These portals usually required a great deal of effort to be constructed but Mist had only required a moment for its creation.
“Don’t forget to order the return of the spatial fortress four months later!” Borlon reminded.
Casters of the Sanctum were also used as technicians and locomotive personnel of the spatial fortress. They could only act upon the black-robed elder’s instructions.
“Mhm.” Though unwilling, Mist could only agree.
Borlon was adamant about having the spatial fortress return to Zauberia. The knights needed a new batch of slaves creatures urgently since their losses were approaching dangerous levels. Borlon’s anxiety was at its peak; the only way around the mass deaths of high-rank Knechts was an ocean of cannon fodder.
Knechts were shining stars of the Three Western Isles; they showed promise and would soon become Ritters. If they were burnt through right now, the Hall of Knights would be left with no newer generation. This would be a greater failure than defeat.
Mist had never needed to worry about that. Casters were protected by an abundance of slaves; there were five to six slaves assigned to each Lehrling. He didn’t share Borlon’s desperation as the Lehrlings were faring better than Knechts.