**Chapter 46: The Natives’ Counterattack**
No one knew what happened, only that the stars had disappeared from the sky.
Some senior priests, through their divine connections, seemed to know what transpired in that moment, but they remained tight-lipped.
“Are we just supposed to watch them ravage our world?!”
A towering knight slammed the ground in fury, shattering nearby rocks into fragments.
“How can I stay calm? Do you have a way to deal with these bastards?!”
The priest spoke again, drawing all eyes to him.
But others were skeptical. “Impossible. That’s spatial ability. To restrict it, you’d need spatial power yourself. Are you saying…”
“I have it,” Oswald declared, silencing the doubter. “I have spatial abilities.”
He raised a finger toward a nearby knight. In the shocked gazes of all present, the knight vanished, reappearing abruptly on the other side of the tent.
Perhaps due to Oswald’s imperfect control, even the physically robust knight collapsed, vomiting after the transfer.
But the others had no time to care for the knight’s plight. Eyes filled with shock, anger, or greed turned to Oswald.
“How could you have such power?!” the female knight demanded.
Another priest reacted more aggressively, gripping his scepter, faint light emanating from him as if ready to attack. “You stole divine power?! Blasphemer!”
“Don’t be so shocked. This isn’t stolen power. My god granted it to me before vanishing, so I could one day wield it for vengeance.”
Oswald glanced at the furious priest, showing no intent to resist, only gazing at his palm with a sorrowful expression.
The angry priests exchanged glances, unsure of what to say.
“Alright, alright! Our world is in ruins—let’s show some understanding!” an elder shaman stood to calm the group, and the priests relented, stepping back.
After the commotion, they sat back around the fire, their moods noticeably lighter.
“I haven’t fully mastered this power, but I can create a zone where their spatial abilities won’t work,” Oswald stated, outlining his limits.
“As long as those brats can’t escape, the rest is simple!”
“Good. Next, we need a plan to gather these wizard apprentices,” the scarred knight commander said, tapping the table with a dull thud. “We’ve contacted everyone we could and assembled many warriors. Over the years, we’ve learned their weaknesses.”
He spread out a crude map drawn on beast hide. “Our scouts found that these intruders will recklessly charge for those glowing ‘tokens.’ They’ve spent much time collecting tokens the wizards overlooked or left behind.”
With a wave, warriors poured a pile of shimmering tokens onto the ground.
“These are our bait!” the commander’s eyes glinted with ruthlessness. “We’ll scatter them across key areas—narrow valley entrances, forest edges, and deep caves.”
“My plan is simple: use these as bait to lure the apprentices.”
“A small group of warriors will make first contact, drawing them deeper and draining their strength. Then, Oswald will set traps in ideal terrain to take them out one by one!”
“Wizards’ power is finite. They can’t sustain those powerful spells for long!” the shaman leader added. “Once their energy is drained and their ‘magic tools’ are depleted, they’re no different from ordinary people!”
“The first step is to reduce their numbers as much as possible, so even if they sense danger and group up, it’ll be too late,” the commander said darkly, his voice laced with malice.
“If needed, we can muster our full forces. With overwhelming numbers, we’ll crush every apprentice in this plane like insects!”
“For years, those wizards have plundered our plane. I want to take back everything!” a young warrior added bitterly.
“Yes, we’ll not only take revenge but reclaim all that’s ours!” The council tent’s atmosphere ignited, everyone’s eyes burning with vengeance.
“The only issue now is how to ensure the apprentices don’t flee when they sense danger but instead group up to fight,” Oswald said softly, his words like a bucket of cold water. “Until they enter my spatial lockdown zone, they hold the initiative.”
“For that, we need two approaches,” the commander mused. “First, the bait must be tempting enough to spark their greed. We’ll send more people to find these tokens!”
“Second, we make them underestimate our strength, so they don’t feel overly threatened.”
“We can divide our warriors into clusters. Small groups handle ambushes and lures, while larger ones stay in reserve, ready to strike. Once we spot an apprentice, we attack immediately,” the shaman leader said, slamming his bone staff on the ground.
“We don’t aim for quick wins, just to exhaust their strength and reap their lives. This way, they’ll misjudge our numbers…”
With a concrete plan, the group discussed eagerly.
“Our goal: leave none alive!”
Finally, the scarred commander stood, his gaze sweeping over everyone, landing on the firelit map. “This world will be their grave!”
The group erupted in cheers, but in the fervent atmosphere, Oswald’s smile seemed eerily out of place.