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The place was filled with people even though the sun had only just set.

The larger merchant groups took up a corner of the camp, using their heavy carriages and carts to mark out an area as their own. Traveling merchants would often gather to light a campfire and enjoy dinner together.

The fragrance of vegetable broth and the bubbling of cooking meat was enough to make the hungry travelers gulp and lick their lips.

Meanwhile, the women that came along would go to the nearby river and wash before dinner. It was a rare chance to let loose after an entire day sitting inside a carriage. Their laughs and giggles rang out from a distance like silver bells, causing some men to look in their direction.

The entire camp had a casual and relaxed atmosphere to it!

Dadada.

The crisp sound of galloping horses came from the trading road.

A man in black robes slowly entered this lively temporary camp on his horse.

Perhaps intimidated by the sinister aura of this man, the camp slowly turned silent.

The men put away what they were working on and stood up to assess this newcomer.

There was a magical white horse from the Salovia region. It was not only handsome but also fiercer and more ferocious than ordinary low-grade magical creatures. As such, one couldn’t possibly tame and ride such a magical horse unless they were a powerful knight themselves.

The one riding on the horse was cloaked entirely in black robes, not revealing a single inch of skin. A hood shrouded the rider’s face in a dark shadow, giving the man a cold and sinister aura from a distance.

Everyone saw the emblem of a burning fist on the chest of this mysterious person.

"It’s someone from the Crimson Clan."

"It is a lord adept, or is it an apprentice?"

"I don’t know."

Those who could join the camp were all individuals who had traveled the world and seen all manner of things. They instantly recognized the newcomer’s identity. A layer of fear covered their previously cautious and confused gazes.

Everyone hurriedly bowed and paid their respects with fawning smiles on their faces.

"Who here is from the Duro Trading Group?" The man on the magical horse yelled in a deep voice.

The few hundred people of the camp immediately looked toward a particular group of individuals in the corner of the camp: eight light carriages and thirteen or fourteen adventurers or mercenaries. The leader of the group was also in robes. He had short golden hair and looked very young.

Seeing that everyone had cast their gazes toward them, the man with the golden hair took off his cloak and revealed the gray apprentice’s robe beneath it.

"The bastards of the Crimson Clan have caught up. Friends, let us fight now."

As the man shouted, half of his thirteen companions took off their cloaks and revealed their armor underneath.

"Apprentice adepts."

"From the Kamala Clan."

Some within the clan knew of the current local political situation and instantly identified this group of people.

Dammit! It was said that the Kamala Clan was fighting with the Crimson Clan. If they start a fight here...

The previously peaceful camp was instantly thrown into chaos. Be they man or woman, old or young, everyone started running away. Just as the camp descended into disorder, the man on the horse engaged with the one dozen Kamala Clan forces.

The man in the black robes wasn’t an adept. He was only a pseudo-adept.

Meanwhile, the Kamala Clan forces were made up of four advanced apprentices, three intermediate apprentices, and seven clan warriors.

Seven apprentice-level spells immediately greeted the black-robed pseudo-adept the moment the battle started.

Unfortunately, they were all blocked by a wall of wind that rose from the ground.

Weng! Weng! Weng!

The series of magical explosions rocked the wind wall, causing it to tremble and vanish with the first wave of attacks.

"It’s a wind pseudo-adept. Cole, you hold the front. Avril; you, Anna, and Tony are responsible for long-ranged attacks on the outside. Leiger, Gray Ear, you two are with me."

With the commands of the golden-haired man, the seven Kamala apprentices quickly surrounded the Crimson apprentice. They launched a ferocious attack from every direction. Meanwhile, the clan warriors around them raised their weapons and shields before valiantly charging at the only enemy before them.

In an instant, red fireballs, crackling lightning, chilling frost blades, green acid arrows, and rising earth spears filled the space. The numerous spells devoured the battlefield like colorful fireworks, engulfing all of the apprentices and warriors.

The apprentice adepts’ physiques were not much better than the clan warriors, but their magical defenses protected their weak bodies. The seven clan warriors undoubtedly became the first sacrifices in the fast-paced exchange of spells.

Both the allied spells that exploded on the enemy’s defenses, and the enemy’s wind blades, were lethal to these warriors who were unprotected by magic.

A few of the clan warriors collapsed under the magical explosions.

Elementium damage and wounds could be seen all over their bodies despite their leather armor and chainmail. Even a magical breath of cold air could freeze a warrior and kill him, let alone the frost blades and knives.

The swords and shields of the clan warriors were practically useless against the might of elementium magic.

Their only purpose on the battlefield was to attract the enemy’s attention and firepower, even becoming a human shield when necessary.

The battle only lasted a mere fifteen minutes before ending!

The victorious was naturally the more powerful Crimson pseudo-adept.

A one-sided slaughter was the most common sight when there were no opponents among the enemy who could match his power.

The apprentice-adepts had been sliced up by terrifying whirlwinds and lay in puddles of their own blood on the ground, hanging by a thread. Even the body-refining adept had been cut in half at the waist, spilling his guts all over the place.

Only the golden-haired man still kneeled upon the bloody battlefield, breathing heavily and with much difficulty. Fine cuts covered his body, hands, and face. Any slight movement would cause blood to trickle from his wounds.

He panted heavily and ignored the thin wounds on his faces, choosing instead to glare wickedly at the Crimson pseudo-adept who was treating himself to the side.

He couldn’t have defeated seven ferocious apprentices unharmed either.

His black robes had been burned all over the place, and a fist-sized wound was visible on the left side of his waist along with an acid wound on the right shoulder. Signs of elementium frost and lightning showed on the rest of his body.

This crimson pseudo-adept was a young man with a sinister and savage look on his face. He had taken out a bubbling purple-red potion and pulled out the cork. The man hesitated for a moment before gritting his teeth and pouring the medicine over the hole created by the acid arrow.

The wound sizzled as white smoke rose from the flesh. The young pseudo-adept let out a short cry as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

The intense pain finally subsided after he used some purification potion to clear out the rest of the acid in his wound. The pseudo-adept finally relaxed after using some ointments and healing potions to deal with the rest of his injuries.

Even as beaten up and exhausted as he was, the ferocity and terror that radiated from within him intimidated the people hiding and watching from a distance. This man might not be an adept yet, but his impressive power that allowed him to crush the enemy and decide their fates turned him into a conqueror that stood above all else.

He was like a kingly lion standing upon a cliff with immense satisfaction and pride that came from looking upon its land and subjects!

If one were to call the merchants and bodyguards in the camp livestock, then he was a magnificent wolf watching over them! Moreover, he was a bloodied lone wolf who was even more ferocious because of it!

No matter how severe his wounds, no livestock would dare come close as long as he was still standing!

After quickly treating his wounds and waiting for them to cease being an issue, the young Crimson pseudo-adept walked toward the battered enemy corpses and started a thorough search for a special item.

Unfortunately, even after a complete search that included sifting through the bloody scraps, he still didn’t find the objective of his mission.

The face of the pseudo-adept turned dark, and he set his sights on the last surviving advanced apprentice.

"Talk. Where did you place the storage ring you secretly snuck out with you? Hand it over and I can let you live. Or else..."

The pseudo-adept stepped forward and waved his hand. A green blade of wind gathered between his palms.

"Ptoo!" The golden-haired man knew he was destined for death and instead became exceedingly tight-lipped, "You scum of the Crimson Clan. I wouldn’t tell you anything, even if you killed me."

Before he could finish, a flash of green light whizzed past the golden-haired man. The right arm he had been using to support himself was severed at the elbow, and blood soaked the ground below.

Aaaaaah!

The man’s screams sounded especially tragic and dismal in the dark night!