The Vastness of Magical Destiny

"Mihailovich, do you have any objections?" After a long period of contemplation, Komer finally turned to ask the Puppet Mage who had been silent all along.

"Lord, we are taking chestnuts out of the fire, which is quite dangerous. If we talk about Mage power, we might barely manage to compete with the Church of Light, but when it comes to the power of knights and warriors, we are too weak. The Church of Light’s power is not limited to Mages alone; their Knights regiment, though less in number compared to those of various secular countries, is almost entirely composed of masters and strong combatants," Mihailovich obviously had been constantly calculating the risks of this adventure, "Mr. Fran’s words are quite reasonable. We might be able to rescue Rebry, but may not be able to escape the Church of Light’s determined pursuit. In the Northern Wasteland, knights clearly have an advantage over Mages. How do you plan to solve this problem?"

"I have considered this too. The war between Mages and knights has never been about terrain; the so-called advantage simply refers to temporary encounters. If we are prepared, naturally we must guard against such situations. I think Magic Scrolls may help us solve many of the issues, and of course, we will prepare a variety of shows for these Light Knights," Komer smiled, apparently confident in his plans.

"If Lord has already taken this into account, then there is nothing to worry about. I, like the others, am very much looking forward to this war," Mihailovich nodded. This battle would undoubtedly be an open challenge to the Church of Light, and once it began, it could very well be a fight to the death.

When Komer led his group hastily across the Western Kingdom’s fields, now somewhat desolate, another group of people passed by in the opposite direction, but the direct distance between them differed by dozens of miles. No one could have foreseen such an event, and a potential fierce battle slipped by unnoticed because of the distance in space.

Komer and his group appeared as a caravan outside Marco City. The prestige of the Holy City was no vain boast; almost all of them were visiting for the first time. As the Holy Land of the Church of Light, it gathered the most magnificent and luxurious churches and palaces on the whole Blue Continent. Here one could see devotees with faces lost in adoration; fountains, sculptures, buildings, even the gatehouses and the exterior walls of ordinary residences were embellished with paintings and sculptures with legends of the God of Light everywhere. Perhaps even an extremely ordinary bridge had once been haunted by a saint of the Church of Light, and a particular palace wall might have been where a past pope once meditated and practiced asceticism.

However, as soon as Komer and his group set foot on the streets of Marco City, they felt a pervasive oppression. It stemmed from the lingering aura of countless valiant souls of the Church of Light that had been shattered over hundreds of years. The naturally opposing auras gave Komer and his group an uncomfortable psychological shadow. Even though the Salvation Society’s covert network had arranged for them a most remote and derelict residence, they still couldn’t escape this psychological pressure.

Seeing that his group was still somewhat listless, Komer had to risk casting a small Psychic Magic spell to bolster everyone’s spirits. Although this kind of psychic spell did not belong to Dark Spells, it was released with the foundation of Dark Magic Power. If at this moment a Light adept with a sensitive Spiritual Sense happened to pass by, they could detect the presence of so many dark remnants in this quiet and desolate house, and even a fool would know what kind of conspiracy this group had come here for.