Hello, is this a letter addressed to Demon Fortress?

The playful atmosphere came to an abrupt end.

Everyone fell silent at the same time.

Alberto put his leg down, Valentine's wine glass stopped in mid-air, and even the guards who were chatting subconsciously lowered their voices.

Marcus quickly wiped the relaxed look off his face and made a shushing gesture.

He took a deep breath, pulled out a communication stone from his waist, glanced at the markings on it, and his pupils contracted slightly.

"It's...it's a communication from the shelter."

Someone whispered something.

"Didn't it just break?"

Marcus did not answer, but pressed the answer button.

"Lord Ryan, is there something you forgot to tell me?"

He tried his best to make his voice sound steady and respectful.

There was a moment of silence in the communication stone, then a deep male voice came through.

"right."

The voice was unhurried, carrying a sense of superior composure.

"Tell your men that Lord Edwin said there's something wrong with the Perception Veil."

Marcus paused for a moment.

"Is there a problem with the sensing curtain?"

The male voice continued.

"This may cause errors in the display of the half-demon footprints."

"If you see a red dot moving in the compass, ignore it."

"It is expected to resume in two hours."

Marcus's fingers tightened slightly as he gripped the communication stone, and his brows furrowed.

He didn't speak, but those around him had already heard what he said.

Valentine frowned even more, put down his glass, stood up, walked over to Marcus, and asked in a low voice.

"The veil of magical perception is maintained by the combined spells cast by various scattered magical families; Lord Edwin was not involved in it."

"How did he know there was a problem with the perception barrier?"

Although the voice was kept very low, the sound transmission stone did not disconnect.

There was silence on the other end.

Immediately afterwards, the deep male voice sounded again, this time with a colder tone.

Are you questioning Lord Edwin's judgment?

Valentine's expression changed, and his lips moved, but no sound came out.

Marcus quickly tried to smooth things over, saying with an embarrassed smile.

"No, no, Lord Ryan, we understand. Don't worry, we won't take any further action."

There was no response.

Marcus waited a few moments to make sure the other party didn't intend to speak again before carefully hanging up the communication stone.

The moment the communication stone went dark, he let out a long breath, then turned around abruptly, glaring at Valentine with displeasure.

"Are you insane! If the family finds out you've defied Lord Edwin, you're in deep trouble!"

Valentine's expression was also unpleasant; his lips were pressed into a thin line, and he remained silent.

At this moment, a young guard next to him couldn't help but mutter something under his breath.

"What's there to be afraid of... I heard that Lord Edwin has already resigned from his position as the master of the Hidden Tower."

The people around fell silent for a moment.

Seeing that no one interrupted him, the guard grew bolder and continued speaking.

"Many people say that he may have already been discarded by the Sage. If that's the case, why should we be so wary of him?"

The expressions on their faces changed, and they exchanged subtle glances.

Alberto, who had been leaning back in his chair playing with his ring, suddenly chuckled.

The laughter was soft, but everyone heard it.

He slowly straightened up from the chair, dusted off non-existent dust from his cuffs, and looked at the guard with a slight smile on his lips.

"A discarded pawn?"

He repeated it, as if he were telling a joke.

"Do you know why Lord Edwin resigned from his position as tower lord?"

No one answered.

Alberto's gaze swept across everyone's faces with a condescending pity.

"Because the Sage gave him a better position."

He paused for a moment.

"Vacant title: Captain of the Transport Team"

"That transport team has twenty seats."

"Twenty."

He held up two fingers and waved them in the air.

"A transport team captain with twenty seats has more power than the newly appointed Tower Master of the Hidden Tower."

"The title of Tower Master is just a nominal one; the real power lies with the Captain of the Transport Team."

After he finished speaking, he leaned back in his chair, picked up his wine glass, and slowly took a sip.

The young guard opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word, and lowered his head sheepishly.

Gladius, the mage responsible for monitoring the perception compass, watched all of this and couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Yes, even if Lord Edwin had nothing, he would still be a legendary figure."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was barbed.

"How many legends can rise to the top in the City of a Thousand Towers?"

He looked at Valentine, a sneer playing on his lips.

"What makes you think you have the ability to question Lord Edwin?"

Valentine's face was ashen, his lips pressed into a thin line, and he remained silent.

Gladys raised a finger and pointed to the pillar of perception magic behind him, his tone flippant.

"See, the compass is starting to malfunction, isn't it?"

Everyone's attention was drawn to it.

Valentine frowned and walked to the perception compass.

On the enormous crystal screen, the largest red blob, representing the location of the shelter, was moving in the very center.

It wasn't moving slowly and intermittently, but advancing southward in a straight line at an incredible speed.

That red group is the core area of ​​the shelter, where more than four thousand half-demon civilians are gathered.

At this rate, they should be able to break out of the barren wasteland in less than half an hour.

Gladys pointed at the red blob and said with a smile.

"See that? This speed is definitely a mistake in the perception barrier."

"Lord Edwin is right, we can ignore it."

Valentine stared at the red blob, his brows furrowing even more deeply.

He didn't speak, but the doubt on his face gradually faded.

Yes, that speed couldn't be real.

Let alone in the wasteland, even in the Thousand Towers City where there are no demons, an epic assassin probably couldn't achieve this speed.

It's definitely a perception error.

He felt relieved and turned back to his seat.

Just then, another guard, Cole, who was in charge of surveillance, pointed to a location on the compass that was close to their camp, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Are those two red dots... also errors?"

He pointed to two rapidly moving dots of light, pointing directly at the camp.

"They were going pretty fast, it looked like they were about to hit us."

Gladys glanced at it and waved it off dismissively.

"It's definitely a mistake. Lord Edwin said it would take two hours to recover, so don't worry about it."

Cole stared at the compass, hesitated for a moment, and his lips trembled slightly.

"But...but those two red dots...they look like the two that left the shelter two hours ago."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet crowd.

Gladys paused for a moment, then leaned closer to examine the compass more closely.

"Left from the shelter?"

He repeated it, his tone less flippant and more uncertain.

People around gathered around, their eyes fixed on the two points of light.

The light spot is getting closer and closer.

The speed remains unchanged, and the direction remains the same.

Valentine's expression changed abruptly, and he stood up abruptly.

"wrong……"

Before the words were finished, a short scream came from the direction of the watchtower on the east side of the camp.

The sound stopped abruptly, as if someone had slit his throat.

Everyone's eyes turned in that direction at the same time.

The next second, two figures silently emerged from the darkness.

One arrow hurtled straight towards the perception magic pillar in the center of the camp, while the other rushed into the densest part of the crowd.

Under the cover of night, they moved so fast that they were almost impossible to see with the naked eye.

The gray-white ponytail left a trail of afterimages in the air.

Leah emerged from the shadows.

Her goal was clear: head straight for Gladys.

Gladys is a mage, a transcendent being.

The moment he saw the gray-white figure, his pupils contracted sharply, and he instinctively tried to raise a magical shield.

But it was too late.

Lydia's dagger had already slashed across his throat.

It wasn't that the shield didn't have time to deploy; it was that his mind had just given the order, and the magic hadn't even had time to be mobilized from the magic core before the blade had already sliced ​​through his skin.

The gap between the highest level of the extraordinary and the lowest level of the legendary is that fast.

It's so fast that it doesn't even give you time to cast a spell.

Gladys's eyes widened, his mouth opened, and he tried to shout but couldn't make a sound.

Blood gushed from the incision, flowing down his neck and soaking the collar of his robe.

His body swayed twice, then fell straight to the ground like a sawn-off piece of wood.

The light from the Perception Magic Pillar flickered violently a few times before going completely dark.

At the same time, an explosion occurred in densely populated areas.

Cedric's figure moved through the crowd.

Wherever his short blade passed, blood splattered.

The moment a high-ranking mage rose from his chair, a wisp of magical light gathering between his fingers, Cedric's dagger plunged into his heart.

The magician didn't even utter a sound before collapsing to the ground.

The other mage desperately erected a shield, but just as it took shape, Cedric circled behind him and plunged a short blade into the back of his neck, piercing his throat.

The shield is still there, but the person is dead.

This is the absolute crushing power of a legendary assassin against a transcendent mage.

It's not a battle, it's a harvest.

But Alberto is different.

Alberto is a warrior, a transcendent being.

The moment he heard the scream, he drew his long sword from his waist, channeling his inner energy into his entire body, his muscles tensing.

When Cedric's dagger pierced him, he barely managed to raise his sword to parry.

The blades clashed, sparks flying.

Alberto was jolted back three steps, his hand went numb, and he almost dropped his sword.

But he survived.

Cedric frowned slightly, and the second strike followed immediately, faster and at a more difficult angle.

Alberto swung his longsword with all his might, parrying three blows in succession.

Each strike sent shivers down his spine, causing his blood to surge and his bones to crack.

He finally couldn't block the fourth strike.

Cedric's dagger pierced his shoulder, not a vital spot, but it crippled his right arm that held the sword.

Alberto screamed in agony as his sword fell to the ground.

Cedric didn't finish off the remaining enemy, as he had already moved on to his next target.

Alberto slumped to the ground, clutching his shoulder, his face pale and his whole body trembling.

he lived.

It wasn't because Cedric couldn't kill him, but because a legendary assassin needs four strikes to kill a superhuman warrior, while only one strike is needed to kill a superhuman mage.

In the time it took to deliver those four blows, Cedric had already killed three mages.

Valentine was a sorcerer.

He was slightly stronger than Gladys, at the peak of the Extraordinary Realm, and his reactions were also faster.

As Lydia lunged at Gladys, Valentine had already erected a magical shield.

A pale blue light enveloped him.

He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to run deeper into the camp.

But Leah appeared from the side of the shield, her dagger piercing through a gap at the edge.

That's not a gap, but a fluctuation gap of less than a fraction of a second when the shield is circulating.

The legendary assassin can see it, and he can catch it.

The blade pierced Valentine's lower back with precision, passing between his ribs and stabbing his kidney.

Valentine groaned and fell to his knees, his shield shattering instantly.

He clutched his wound, blood gushing from between his fingers, his face filled with disbelief.

His shield was clearly up.

But even if you manage to hold on, it won't help.

Leah didn't look at him a second time; in a flash, she disappeared into the darkness again.

Screams, cries for help, and the clanging of metal echoed throughout the camp.

The extraordinary mages were almost powerless to fight back, and one by one they fell into pools of blood.

Occasionally, a few soldiers would manage to raise their weapons to parry, but only for a moment.

Two, three, four at most.

Then he fell down.

In less than three minutes, the perception magic pillar in the center of the camp collapsed, and the perception compass crashed to the ground, shattering into countless tiny fragments.

The sound of chains being dragged from the direction of the makeshift prison cells stopped.

The half-demon warriors huddled in the corners raised their heads, their blood-red eyes peering through the gaps in the wooden fence at the carnage outside.

Their mouths slowly stretched into a ferocious yet gleeful smile.

On the other side...

The Ross family's residence.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood.

The bodies of the young magician from the Ross family lay scattered on the ground.

O'Brien was pinned to the ground, his knees sinking into the gravel and mud, his face covered in blood.

His eyes were wide open, his voice hoarse, filled with extreme incomprehension and anger.

"Why...why are you attacking the Ross family!"

He looked up and stared intently at the young man standing in front of him.

The young man wore a dark robe, his face was stern, and he held a short blade in his hand, the tip of which was still dripping blood.

"We really don't know anything!"

O'Brien's voice was trembling.

"Someone from the Wailing Wall... We've never even heard of that name!"

"You've got the wrong person...you've got the wrong person!"

His voice grew louder and louder until it was almost a roar.

The young man did not answer.

He merely tilted his head slightly, as if assessing whether an item was worth the effort to discuss.

Then, he moved.

The short blade sliced ​​cleanly and swiftly across Obrion's throat, without the slightest hesitation.

O'Brien's eyes widened suddenly, his mouth opened and closed a few times, emitting a few muffled breaths.

His body swayed, then he fell heavily to the ground, blood gushing from the cut in his throat and seeping into the soil beneath him.

Arthur sheathed his dagger, wiped the blood off his sleeve, and turned away expressionlessly.

Behind them, the Ross family's residence had become a deathly silence.

On the other side...

Edwin stood before the perception compass, his brow furrowed.

His gaze fell on the huge crystal screen.

The location of the shelter's core area, which should have been displayed, was now completely blank.

The enormous red mass formed from over four thousand half-demons vanished.

It didn't slowly move to another place; it disappeared completely.

It's as if it never existed.

Edwin tapped his fingers lightly twice on the edge of the compass.

He took out a communication stone from his pocket and pressed the communication button.

"This is Edwin, reporting for duty."

There was a moment of silence inside the sound transmission stone.

Then came a hissing noise.

no respond.

He pressed it again.

There was still only static.

the third time.

There was nothing there.

Edwin's lips twitched.

His fingers slowly tightened, his knuckles turning white.

The sound transmission stone made a crisp sound in his palm, shattering into fine powder that fell through his fingers.

"Luring the tiger away from the mountain."

His voice was very soft, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

Behind them, a dark shadow appeared silently.

Cass emerged from the shadows, knelt on one knee, and bowed his head.

"Sir, we have searched an area of ​​ten miles around."

His voice was very low.

"I didn't see anyone."

Edwin's lips curled slightly upwards, his smile as cold as ice.

"Avalon of the Wailing Wall..."

He slowly turned around and looked at the corner of the collapsed perception veil in the sky.

"The cowardly turtle has actually come out."

Cass looked up.

"Sir, what should we do?"

Edwin's gaze returned to the ground, and his voice regained its superior composure.

"Notify all legendary mages stationed in the city-states surrounding the Deadwood Wasteland."

"Begin to surround the hunting grounds."

Cass frowned slightly, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.

"My lord... what if the person who intervened actually detonates the Wilderness Overlord..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was already very clear.

A no-go zone within a 20-kilometer radius.

Edwin gave a cold laugh.

"Then let him set it on fire."

His voice was so flat, as if he were talking about something insignificant.

"Since he wants to die with us, then let's grant their wish."

After he finished speaking, he raised his head and looked up at the sky again.

On that enormous perceptual veil, the collapsed gap was still slowly widening, like an unhealable wound.

Edwin's gaze gradually turned cold, and a murderous intent surged from his body like a tide.

"But before that..."

His voice was deep, and every word was like a poisoned blade.

"These lowly creatures who take my mercy for granted deserve a good lesson."