Chapter 525
The mage wasn’t surprised. In fact, a small part of him felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. They were clearly outmatched, unprepared to face whatever had wrought such devastation. Delaying the confrontation was the wisest course of action, at least until reinforcements arrived.
He had already dispatched a message via a scrying stone back to the Obsidian Tower, his urgent report directed to Tower Master Vellok himself. Vellok’s arrival was imminent, a force to be reckoned with. But the mage had no intention of waiting around to be subjected to Vellok’s directives.
"Let’s go back and wait for further orders," he commanded the assembled Ogres, his voice firm and decisive. He didn’t meet their gazes, already focusing his mana.
With a swift, intricate gesture, he cast a potent haste spell upon himself. The air around him shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, he took two long strides and vanished in a burst of displaced air.
The Ogres hesitated, their gazes flicking between the spot where the mage had stood and the lifeless forms of their fallen comrades. A moment of silent respect, a warrior’s acknowledgment of loss, hung in the air.
Then, a shared resolve hardened their features. With a series of curt nods, they turned and lumbered after their vanished leader, their heavy footsteps echoing through the trees. However, four of the Ogres, their eyes burning with a grim determination, remained behind.
The four Ogres stood in silent contemplation for a long moment, their massive forms radiating a quiet intensity.
"He took two of ours," the largest of the four finally rumbled, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the forest floor. His hand instinctively clenched around the haft of his massive axe.
"The mage is right," another Ogre, his face bearing a network of old scars, countered, his voice surprisingly level. "This is beyond us. We should follow."