I, a cultivator, have ended up in the wizarding world.

Chapter 471 The Other Side's Reaction
Rewind a few minutes.

On the other side of the abandoned plane, the joint landing zone of the Chaos Cult and the Tower of Annihilation.

The landscape here is no different from that of the Norren workshop; it is the same gray and lifeless, flat and desolate.

However, the number of wizards who first entered and landed here was much smaller, only about a thousand.

However, the energy fluctuations emanating from these thousand people were even more terrifying than those from an army of ten thousand.

Because all of these thousand wizards are high-level wizards.

The 127 people standing in the core area possessed an aura as deep as the ocean; they were a group of Level 7 cultivators.

They are the vanguard, the elite, the special forces responsible for carrying out the most critical decapitation strikes before the main force arrives.

As soon as they landed, the thousand people quickly split into three groups.

Approximately three hundred people immediately dispersed to the outer perimeter, took to the air, and deployed a warning barrier.

Holding various detection magical artifacts, they coldly scanned the distant horizon, guarding against a possible surprise attack.

Three hundred people, led by one hundred level-seven fate-type wizards, began to cast fate-type spells in an attempt to seize the high ground of information.

The remaining three hundred people were all wizards specializing in curses.

They quickly formed three concentric circles, sat cross-legged, and took out various spellcasting mediums from their respective storage spaces.

Three hundred curse wizards, all at least level six, began chanting simultaneously.

The sound was not in any known language, but rather a mixture of sharp friction, deep guttural sounds, and a kind of echo that seemed to come from the abyss.

The air around them distorted, the light dimmed, and even the space itself began to seep out a black, viscous "malice."

They unleashed 3,120 curses at once, like 3,120 invisible poison arrows, tearing through space along pre-anchored targets and shooting towards the most dazzling geniuses in the Norn Workshop camp.

At first, everything went smoothly.

"Hit feedback" is constantly being transmitted back through the cursed connection; it is the "death echo" produced when the target's soul is shattered, body collapses, and life is extinguished.

One of the level seven wizards, who was in charge of monitoring the effects of the curse, even had a satisfied smile on his face.

But at a certain moment...

"Uhhhhh!!!"

A short, shrill scream suddenly erupted from the very core of the circular formation.

That was the seventh-level wizard responsible for cursing Jemin.

His body, which had been sitting cross-legged, suddenly arched forward as if struck in the chest by an invisible giant hammer. Then he fell backward, his head hitting the ground hard.

But that's not the scariest thing.

Deep within his soul, two "foreign objects" exploded.

A viscous substance, like the condensation of the negative will of billions of living beings, frantically polluted his spiritual origins; a sharp substance, like thousands of blades, wantonly cut through his soul structure.

At the same time, the backlash from the failed curse also arrived, and with all three combined, the consciousness of this level seven wizard was almost torn apart in an instant.

"Mental connection! Quickly!"

The other level seven curse wizard next to him reacted very quickly and roared out.

All the wizards involved in the curse had their minds and souls temporarily linked together using a special ritual before casting the spell, in order to share target information and improve the accuracy of the curse.

At that moment, this link became a lifeline.

Those two filthy and violent forces, through the mental link, flowed towards the hundreds of cursed wizards around them!

"puff!!"

"Ahem!"

"What the hell?!"

Muffled groans, sounds of spitting blood, and curses filled with shock and anger rang out one after another.

Each wizard in the link felt as if their soul had been doused with scalding hot excrement, or pricked by countless fine needles.

Although the damage suffered by each person was greatly reduced after the cost was shared, the "contamination" originating from the resentment and malevolent energy of all living beings was like a bone-deep ailment, extremely difficult to eradicate. The entire cursed circle was in complete chaos.

Some people hurriedly severed their mental links, some tried to use purification magic to dispel the pollution, and some collapsed and convulsed due to the backlash.

By the time they had finished dealing with this sudden counterattack in a flurry of activity, the first round of curse exchanges between the two sides was nearing its end.

The one in charge of coordinating this battle was a seventh-level peak wizard of the Chaos Cult named "Rotten Throat" Mordigian.

After reviewing the final hit statistics, his expression turned extremely unpleasant on his face, which was covered in pustules and cracks.

"Only...50% complete?"

This figure is far lower than the pre-war estimate of "70%".

As for our side, due to that strange counterattack, more than forty cursed wizards suffered soul damage and will need at least several hours to recover some of their combat strength.

As for the first level seven wizard who was attacked, his soul was severely damaged, and there was still a lot of pollution residue in his soul. It is likely that he will not be able to provide much combat power on the battlefield.

"When did Norren Workshop acquire this protective technology that can counteract a level seven curse?" The head of the Tower of Annihilation, a tall, thin figure completely wrapped in a gray shroud, asked in a dry voice.

“I don’t know.” Mordigian’s voice was like sandpaper scraping. “But then we’ll have to see how the Fate Interference Group performs.”

“That won’t be easy. The number and strength of the fate-related wizards at Norren Workshop are both superior to ours,” the gray-robed man said in a low voice.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a commotion arose from the Fate Wizard's side.

The three level-seven wizards simultaneously unleashed powerful energy fluctuations. Their soul flames burned fiercely, almost tangible.

"Support them!"

At Mordigian's command, the other curse wizards who were in relatively good condition immediately extended their mental links to him.

A moment later, the three seventh-level Fate Wizards opened their eyes listlessly.

Seeing their weakened state, Mordigian knew that the battlefield would be missing three more level-seven combatants.

However, this sacrifice was worthwhile.

Although they didn't gain any advantage, they at least deprived Noren Workshop of its biggest asset.

He raised his head and looked towards the distant horizon.

There, the battle energy of four level-eight wizards swept in like a tsunami.

The moment the oppressive aura descended, Mordigian and the gray-clad men beside him only swayed slightly before regaining their footing.

Level 7 has deepened and expanded its own laws, and has a fairly strong resistance to high-level pressure.

"The curse war is a draw, and the thread of fate has been corrupted by us," Mordigian said coldly. "Then let's use the most direct method."

He raised his decaying right hand and made a gesture.

Behind them, while they were launching their first offensive, the combined forces of the Chaos Cult and the Tower of Annihilation, who were already fully prepared, began to stir.

The wizard army, numbering over 1.7 million, formed an endless red and black tide.

The red ones are the Chaos Mystic Cult wizards, dressed in deep red robes and with varying degrees of mutated features. The black ones are the Tower of Annihilation wizards, exuding an aura of destruction.

"Except for the three columns reserved for 'special missions,' all other units..."

Mordigian's voice was amplified and carried throughout the entire army.

"Army attack."

"Target: Noren Workshop landing zone."

"Before they build a complete defense system, we should strike hard and defeat them in one fell swoop."

The order was given.

The red and black tide stirred.

One million seven hundred thousand wizards, like a locust plague sweeping across the land, rose into the sky, transforming into dark clouds that blotted out the sun, and surged toward a certain direction.

(End of this chapter)