To be frank, Carla’s condition wasn’t as dire as Angelina and Locke had feared. Her damages were remedied with prompt self-assessment and treatment since Carla was a photomancer. Her healing abilities were not to be doubted; photomancy was on par with hydromancy and terramancy when it came to healing. Thanks to that, all her external injuries had long recovered after six months of recovery. The only ones remaining were two bothersome internal injuries that burdened her relatively frail body. Unlike casters, knights were physically tougher. Unless the injuries sustained were irreversibly dire, six months of recuperation was more than enough to return knights to their peak.
It was getting late so Locke took the cue to leave Carla’s tent. He had no qualms about having Angelina remain with her mentor since she’d always lived with her back at the Sanctum. Plus, it didn’t feel appropriate to intrude on their privacy as a member of the opposite sex.
It was already midnight. Botania’s jagged moon hung high in the sky, accompanied by the screeches and roars of the slaves outside of the campgrounds. Greenveil City in the distance was lit up with fire; the unfortunate territory was going through yet another sleepless night of macabre.
Locke wasn’t planning to return to the battlefields since he’d just arrived at Botania. Greenveil City was wealthy but he was no longer in a rush to advance further. Locke was content enough as a quasi-Ritter for now and though advancement still required continual effort, he figured he wasn’t that much of a training maniac.
Instead, Locke went to check on the Akanasds then visited Daenie, who was still awake at this hour as expected. It had been a year since they last met so there was plenty to catch up on. They chatted the night away.
The next morning started with multiple orders and signals from the Magisters. Hundreds of slaves barged out from the camp to join their comrades in the city; this was the last leg of the invasion. Multiple Botanians were bleeding out in a red drake’s jaw. Their weak struggles were futile as the drake gobbled them up.
The contingent had seen the change of a few slave batches over the year. Apart from the golden armadillo that managed to survive thus far, the initial base-rank slaves that Locke recalled seeing had either died in battle or been fed to another slave. The black towering monster that he’d always keep in mind had sustained severe injuries alongside Magister Reiner six months ago. Reiner had brought said monster to Battlezone 7 as a companion. Daenie had explained that the dark towering monster had shielded Magister Reiner from the Botanian city lord’s attack despite its already severe injuries, which ultimately allowed the other Magisters to reach Reiner in time. Its selfless display had moved Reiner to make it his familiar.
Magisters were still human, after all. Their hearts were still swayed by emotions even if they were peculiar enough to consider extreme body modifications. The dark towering monster’s origin remained a mystery but Reiner didn’t mind its lowly status and inferior capabilities. This was a rare display since Magisters tended to select familiars of similar competence to establish a symbiotic bond for mutual growth. Casters like Angelina and Reiner who’d willingly settle with a familiar of unequal capability were incredibly rare.
Greenveil City reeked of death and violence. Despite a night filled with massacres, the injured slaves had yet to fill their bellies. They roamed the city, pouncing towards any living being their eyes met.
Unlike these rogue monsters, the group of slaves led around by Locke was starkly docile. They were fresh out of the spatial fortress; their appearances diverse and their origins unknown. These slaves seemed relatively naive compared to their ‘seniors’ who’d terrorised the minor plane for years. Anyway, there was plenty of time for growth, if they managed to survive that long that is.
A puff of sulphuric smoke escaped the red drake’s flared nostrils. It was displeased with the green scorpiondrake that’d obstructed its view. While bestowed with advanced powers, major monsters weren’t exempted from beastly flaws; they were ill-tempered and bloodthirsty. A ball of flames swelled gradually between its jaw as it prepared to give this fiend a lesson. Its intentions were abruptly interrupted by a huge brooding appearance that forced its flames down its throat. The abrupt action caused it to barf out flames embarrassingly, burning the large patch of grass around its feet into crisp burnt charcoal.
Lord Adamyrs stared at the red drake in its eye, then stretched its neck towards the sky. It let out a ringing screech; a blatant display of dominance. Adamyrs had always been the unwavering dominion of Morphey Forest that demanded the submission of its inhabitants. Now that it was in unfamiliar territory, it figured it needed to expand its influence.
The red drake would be the first to be subdued. After all, they had dragon blood flowing through their veins. Adamyrs was confident that the pyromancy drake would submit to it eventually. Its mate, Shiva, came forth to join it. The overwhelming presence of transcendent-rank major monsters had rendered the surrounding slaves into shuddering messes. Behind the two transcendent-rank monsters came more base-rank Akanasds, who stuck to their parents closely.
Angie, get over here! Shiva growled.
The younger scorpiondrake who’d been fooling around in front of the red drake bounced over. The green scorpiondrake who was smaller than the other Akanasds was none other than Angellina’s familiar who Locke had placed under the care of its family temporarily. Unwavering smoke rolled out of the once beautiful Greenveil City. It was in shambles.
The scorpiondrake family who’d just arrived at Botania was determined to prove their worth and loyalty to the Magisters. They’d charged into the city on the first night with unrivalled enthusiasm. The weaker Botanians were helpless heaps against the transcendent and base-rank major monsters.
Following the fall of the city lord, the lowly Botanian soldiers that remained were hearty meals for the slaves. The Sanctum seemed to be more merciful towards the slaves than the Hall of Knights In this aspect; at least they never controlled the slaves’ diet.
Parlina seemed to be in good spirits too. She’d offered Locke a rare greeting upon noticing that he was up early. “You really snagged us a group of wonderful helpers.” Her tone was joyous.
The Akanasds had thoroughly impressed the casters with their overwhelming powers and astounding appetite.