Chapter 48: What about your class?
"Sir," a timid voice piped up from the edge of the platform.
The Chief of the Black Vale Mana Knights turned his head slowly toward the speaker—a wiry civilian man, middle-aged, with worry carving every line into his face.
The man hesitated under the Chief’s steely gaze but forced the words out anyway.
"Can we... can we get out of the affected territories?" the man asked. "Out of Silver Blade, Iron Dew, Scarlet Rift... Is there a safe way out?"
A hush settled again.
The Chief took in a deep breath, the weight of the question visibly heavy on his shoulders. "Sad thing is... we can’t."
Murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire, disbelief and fear twisting into a chaotic chorus.
"We tried," the Chief continued, his voice gravelly but calm, commanding attention once again. "We tried every possible method. On foot, through rivers, flying formations, teleportation arrays, even summoned gates crafted by High Mages. All failed."
He began to pace slowly, as if recounting each bitter attempt in vivid memory.
"Our first group attempted to exit through the East Trail, beyond Iron Dew’s border. We sent a squad of ten, all experienced. They vanished. No traces. Not even a cry for help. We assumed they had died. A week later, one of them returned—naked, trembling, his mind shattered. He had forgotten who he was. All he could say was, ’It watches... from behind the sky.’"
Gasps echoed again.