In the center of the battlefield, the duel between the Seventh Seat and Duncan had become the eye of the storm.
The chaotic skirmishes around seemed to fade into a blurry backdrop, as many pairs of eyes were involuntarily drawn to the clash of these two powerful forces.
Duncan was acutely aware of the importance of the Metal Box in his hand; he couldn’t move as nimbly as the Seventh Seat.
He had no choice but to adopt a strategy of solid defense and counterattack.
So he clamped the Metal Box tightly between his left arm and his body, gripping his wand with his right hand to cast magic.
In an instant, a Thunderlight Spear formed, condensed entirely from pure lightning energy, crackling arcs entwined along its shaft, radiating an aura that made hearts tremble.
With a low growl, Duncan stamped his magic upon the ground, and countless lightning bolts as thick as a child’s arm exploded outward from him, forming a tightening field of electricity in an attempt to restrict the Seventh Seat’s movement and force them into a head-on confrontation.
The Seventh Seat’s black robe billowed; faced with the rampaging lightning, they didn’t choose to take it head-on.
Their figure flickered like a phantom, narrowly dodging several deadly bolts, leaving behind only a few wisps of scorched air in their original spot.
Without a word, the Seventh Seat swiftly waved their wand, and moisture in the air instantly condensed into ice.
Dozens of Ice Spikes exuding a chilling aura formed in a heartbeat, shrieking through the air like arrows, sealing off all possible escape routes for Duncan.
With a grave expression, Duncan’s wand spun in his right hand like a wheel, and an Earthen Bulwark surged from the ground.
The Ice Spikes shattered against the wall, erupting into a cloud of sparkling crystals, frost and electrical sparks scattering everywhere, staining the ground in a crisscross of blue and white.
The ground beneath Duncan’s feet cracked from the shockwaves of energy, yet he didn’t budge an inch, firmly guarding the box in his arms.
In pure elemental exchanges, his cultivation seemed to hold a slight edge.
However, the Seventh Seat’s assault wasn’t limited to elemental magic.
Just as Duncan was fending off the barrage of ice, the shadow at his side twisted, and two Shadow Wolves, formed from pure darkness, lunged silently at his left arm that was holding the box, claws flashing!
Simultaneously, a flash of fire ignited behind him, and a Fire Hawk, composed entirely of blazing flames, let out a sharp cry as it dove for the back of Duncan’s neck!
Duncan’s pupils contracted ever so slightly, but he didn’t panic. With a thunderous shout, a surge of flames erupted around him.
Sixth-tier magic, Blazing Flame Stream.
A tide of fire burst out from Duncan at the center.
The two Shadow Wolves were instantly annihilated by the flames, howling as they were consumed, while the diving Fire Hawk was struck by the fire, its form absorbed and detonated into a mass of flame.
Duncan’s brow furrowed, his protective magic flickering violently. Inwardly, he was shaken—these summoning spells of the Seventh Seat were indeed troublesome, not only distracting him, but steadily draining his magic.
The battle entered a brief stalemate. With powerful magic and ample combat experience, Duncan repeatedly defused the Seventh Seat’s elemental barrages and summoned distractions.
On the surface, it seemed Duncan had the upper hand, defending with unyielding strength thanks to his superior control over the elements.
Yet, he knew in his heart his magical reserves were being quickly depleted, while the Seventh Seat, clearly at ease, was expending far less energy with their summoning spells—and was constantly searching for an opening in Duncan’s defense of the box.
Sure enough, as the prolonged assault yielded no results, the Seventh Seat changed tactics. No longer pursuing overwhelming elemental magic, they rapidly conjured four Wind Blade Mantises.
These magical creatures, born of condensed wind elements, were lightning fast; they didn’t attack Duncan directly but, like real mantises, used their razor-sharp forelimbs to strike at the joints between Duncan’s arm and the Metal Box and the legs supporting his body from four cunning angles.
Duncan cast spells to block, shattering two of them, but the other two closed in! He was forced to dodge to the side, his movements faltering slightly as he protected the box.
Now!
A glint flashed in the Seventh Seat’s eyes—this was the moment they’d been waiting for.
But instead of personally snatching the box, the Seventh Seat subtly gestured with their fingers.
The two remaining Wind Blade Mantises, as if receiving their final command, ceased attacking Duncan and gathered all their remaining energy in their forelimbs, striking precisely at the lock of the Metal Box under Duncan’s arm!
“Not good!” Duncan sensed their intent, but it was too late to stop them.
“Crack—!”
A crisp snap rang out; the lock of the Metal Box shattered, and the lid sprang open a sliver.
The Seventh Seat shot forward like lightning, their black robe billowing as they reached to seize the contents of the box!
However, just as they moved in with absolute certainty, peering through the opening into the box, the Seventh Seat’s hand froze in midair, pupils contracting to the limit beneath the mask.
Inside the box, there was no ancient magical artifact radiating a violet glow as expected—only a few ordinary, even dirt-stained, rocks!
“It’s a trap!” The chilling realization shot through the Seventh Seat’s mind.
They’d been tricked!
Without hesitation, the Seventh Seat immediately signaled for a retreat!
But it was already too late.
After the fierce fighting, Black Utopia’s Grassroots Members had suffered heavy casualties, and the survivors were pinned down by the Oselenka Patrol.
At the retreat signal, chaos broke out and they fell into an even more disadvantageous position. A full withdrawal was simply impossible.
The Seventh Seat glanced over the chaotic battlefield, unwillingness flickering in their eyes, but even more so a glacial rationality.
They wasted no time, quickly tracing a complex summoning formation with both hands, pouring out so much magic that the very air around them warped.
“Skree—!”
A shrill dragon’s cry tore through the night. A massive Windwing Wyvern, composed entirely of blue-green wind energy, ripped through the air and appeared beneath the Seventh Seat.
They vaulted atop the wyvern’s back; the Windwing Wyvern beat its wings, whipping up a violent gale as it soared into the sky, turning into a streak of azure light and fleeing into the distant darkness with such speed that the Oselenka Patrol’s intercepting spells all missed their mark.
Duncan watched the direction where the Seventh Seat fled, then looked down at the rocks inside the box.
His expression was complicated—relieved at the success of the plan, but regretful at letting such a formidable foe escape.
He shouted loudly:
“Clear the battlefield and capture all prisoners!”
Atop the distant mountain, Teacher Sefina had seen it all, her ice-blue eyes betraying no surprise—only understanding.
That night, when she had infiltrated the storage room and found nothing, she’d already begun to suspect this possibility.
The next day, she had Lisika investigate quietly, and as expected, learned that Rofilia Headmaster had personally visited the royal palace.
It all came together—the real magical artifact had most likely been discreetly escorted away by that eighth-tier mage long ago.
Tonight’s grandiose “escort” operation was in fact a trap, meticulously orchestrated by Rofilia to lure out the enemy; even the lieutenant had been misled by the intentionally leaked false information.
One had to admit, the headmaster’s cunning and resourcefulness were truly unfathomable.
Thus, Sefina played along, concealing the truth from the Seventh Seat and using their hands to weaken the organization’s forces in this operation, while also giving the academy the chance to capture some Grassroots Members for information.
She watched as the Oselenka Patrol below began methodically tying up captives and cleaning up the battlefield, ready to slip away quietly.
Yet suddenly, a cool, clear female voice rang out from not far behind her, echoing distinctly in her ears:
“Miss Holmes, I’ve heard much about you.”
Teacher Sefina’s body tensed, her ice-blue eyes narrowing as she slowly turned to face the source of the voice.