Meanwhile, several intruders began infiltrating the estate. Some wore hoods, others masks, while a few made no effort to conceal their identities. They entered from all possible points—some kicked in doors, others shattered windows.
As they cautiously made their way through the building, two of the intruders managed to catch a glimpse of the main hall where their target had retreated. They decided to wait near the entrance for the others to regroup, but suddenly, one of them tripped over a wire.
Boom! An explosion followed, filling the corridor with thick smoke and debris, blinding everything in its path.
"Thomas, are you alive... cough...?" one of the intruders gasped, his voice strained as he tried to regain his senses. But this hesitation proved fatal. A fireball came hurtling through the smoke, striking him square in the face. He screamed in agony as the flames consumed him, leaving nothing but charred remains.
A silhouette moved in the shadows, having witnessed the carnage, and quickly retreated in another direction, away from the chaos.
…
In the main hall, Baron Stapler jumped at the sound of the explosion. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice quaking with fear.
Priest Dunklin responded with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "That must have been Tem. It seems she's already claimed her first victims."
The Baron's eyes widened in alarm, but then he shouted in a panic, "I hope she doesn't blow the entire building to pieces! Call her back and tell her to stop!"
The priest chuckled, clearly unfazed by the Baron's concern. "Haha, no need to worry. The barrier should protect us even if the house does go up in flames. Besides, it might work in our favor—any intruders left would be dead too. Haha!"
But the Baron was far from amused. The thought of his estate reduced to rubble made him question whether the favor of the Church was still worth it if his home was left in ruins. The unease that had been gnawing at him now turned into full-blown dread.
More explosions and screams echoed throughout the mansion. Baron Stapler gnawed at his fingertips until they began to bleed, his anxiety reaching a fever pitch. He was desperate for the ordeal to be over.
Suddenly, the door to the main hall creaked open, drawing everyone's attention. It was Tem, returning from her mission. However, she was a sight to behold—her body was covered in wounds, her right arm hanging limp and motionless by her side, and multiple gashes marked her flesh.
Despite the extent of her injuries, her face remained stoic, as if the pain belonged to someone else entirely. She walked steadily towards the barrier, passing through it effortlessly. Once inside, she approached her superior, Priest Dunklin, and reported in a calm voice, "I managed to eliminate seven intruders before I had to retreat."
There was a murmur of surprise among those present. Many assumed that the number of attackers had been significantly reduced. But her next words shattered that illusion.
"Most of them were Rank 4, though I did manage to kill a Rank 5 mage. However, just before his death, he detonated his magical core. The resulting shockwave broke my arm. It should take me about 15 minutes to fully heal it. From what I observed while keeping a low profile, this was merely the vanguard, composed of smaller threats. I estimate there are over 50 attackers in total, based on what I saw. At least 10 of them are likely Rank 5 or higher, and it's possible there are even Rank 6 mages among them."
Without waiting for a response, she bowed slightly and moved to the center of the barrier. There, she retrieved a healing potion and carefully set her broken arm into the correct position for proper healing.
Tem had been observing the attackers from the shadows, attempting to deceive them by using a red cloth she had taken from one of the intruders to blend in and assess their strength. However, her ruse was discovered when she encountered one of the masterminds behind the operation, someone she had never seen before. A fierce battle ensued, ending with the dying Rank 5 mage using the last of his magic to self-destruct. Fortunately, Tem had a defensive artifact that shielded her from the worst of the blast, but her right arm, which held the artifact, had still taken significant damage.
Now, as she began the process of healing, the tension in the hall thickened. The realization that the main force of the attackers was yet to come weighed heavily on everyone, especially the Baron, who nearly suffered a heart attack upon hearing the sheer number of intruders. His face paled, and sweat beaded on his brow as the gravity of the situation settled in. The thought of facing over fifty attackers, many of whom were powerful mages, was enough to make his already fragile nerves shatter. He could feel his heart pounding erratically in his chest, and for a moment, he feared it might give out entirely.
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The estate fell into an eerie silence, every creak and breath amplified in the tense atmosphere. Then, suddenly, a faint whistling sound echoed through the halls. The Baron jumped in his seat, his nerves frayed to the breaking point. For a brief moment, nothing happened, and he let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was just his imagination. But just as his heart began to steady, figures emerged from all twelve entrances to the main hall, their presence filling the room like a dark tide.
With the barrier situated in the center, there was ample space around its perimeter for the intruders to spread out, surrounding the defenders. Leading the group was a man with a prominent scar across his face, his expression a blend of confidence and malice. Three others with various face coverings stepped forward to join him, and after a brief, hushed conversation, the scarred man began to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I greet you all who have gathered here today," he announced, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "I must apologize for this intrusion, but there is something in your possession that I believe would be better suited in the hands of a new owner. You see, I have an old, sick mother at home who desperately needs medicine. Would it be possible for you to part with the elixir brewed today so that I might nurse her back to health?" His tone was laced with a false sense of righteousness, as if he were asking for a favor instead of making a demand.
The Baron was dumbfounded, unable to process the absurdity of the man's request. The others in the room exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of disbelief and contempt.
An old, sick mother? It was obvious to everyone that this was nothing more than a thinly veiled attempt to claim the elixir for profit. The audacity of his words left the Baron speechless, though the rest of his faction kept their thoughts to themselves, not daring to voice the obvious.
When the scarred man received no response, he shook his head in mock disappointment and turned to the other leaders in his group. "It seems they've already taken out some of our men. That girl in the center is injured—she's probably the one responsible. Keep a close eye on her when the chaos begins; she seems strong." He paused, a cruel smirk twisting his features as he added, "And try to keep her alive if you can. Maybe we'll have some time to enjoy ourselves with her once this is all over." His voice dripped with malice, and the way he licked his lips made the threat in his words clear.
The leaders dispersed back into the room, returning to their respective groups with a focused determination. The man with the scarred face reached into his robe and carefully retrieved an artifact, positioning it about ten meters away from the barrier. The other leaders followed suit, each pulling out an identical artifact and placing them strategically around the barrier.
In unison, the four artifacts activated, emitting beams of concentrated energy that converged on the barrier. At first, there was no visible effect, but soon, everyone in the room could feel the immense pressure being exerted on the protective shield.
The city guards responsible for maintaining the barrier began to sweat profusely, their faces etched with the strain of holding it together. One of the soldiers approached the city guard captain, concern in his voice. "Captain, the barrier won't hold much longer. These seem to be Rank 5 artifacts."
The captain's eyes widened in disbelief. "Rank 5 artifacts? How did these scoundrels get their hands on such powerful tools? And not just one or two, but four of them?" As the minutes ticked by, small cracks started to appear in the barrier, spreading like spiderwebs.
Noticing the barrier's deterioration, the priest stepped forward with a calm yet decisive demeanor. He grasped his staff, which had been his walking aid, and channeled a small amount of magical energy into it. The staff reacted immediately, hovering above the mages who were maintaining the barrier.
The strain lifted from their faces, and the cracks in the barrier began to heal. Everyone turned to the priest—some with relief, others with frustration, as his intervention undid the progress of the attackers.
"Is that... a Rank 6 artifact?" the Baron asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for those nearby to hear.
The priest closed his eyes in thought for a brief moment before answering, pride evident in his tone. "It's a damaged Rank 6 artifact. It once belonged to a cardinal of the church, who overexerted it in battle. The large crystal in the staff acts as a magical reservoir, much like a mana battery, allowing the wielder to store or draw upon power as needed. However," he added, "this barrier will only hold for another 30 minutes at most. You should all prepare for the fight. I plan to let the barrier shatter once 50% of the stored magic is depleted."
The Baron, hearing this, panicked. "But why not let the barrier run until all the magic is used up?"
The priest's response was sharp and condescending. "Are you stupid? And what do you expect me to fight the attackers with afterward? Should I tickle their balls and hope they die laughing?"
The Baron was furious at the insult, but the reality of the situation, and the realization of who he was speaking to, quickly subdued him. He apologized, swallowing his anger.
"Why don't we attack them directly?" asked the city guard captain, trying to understand the strategy.
"I want to wait until Tem is fully healed and has regained most of her mana," the priest replied. "She also used an artifact that has a recharge time of about 40 minutes. By the time the barrier breaks, it should be ready for use again."
The captain nodded in understanding and returned to his small group of soldiers to review the battle plan. Although it had been set in stone long ago, it never hurt to go over the basics one more time. The tension in the room was palpable as the countdown to the inevitable battle continued.