**Chapter 49: Vacuum Zone**
In stark contrast to Augusta’s thunderous might was Horn.
This genius with eighth-level talent displayed a suffocating defense and counterattack ability, standing like an unshakable mountain, firmly guarding every inch of ground he chose.
“Brace yourselves, they’re coming!”
The team he led transformed the surrounding earth elements to their advantage wherever they went.
Thick stone shields withstood the charge of heavy cavalry, while towering stone pillars disrupted the formations of the native forces.
Horn himself was like a moving fortress, his hands conjuring massive fists of rock that shattered a group of knights daring to approach, armor and all, with a single blow.
The natives once tried luring him into an underground cave with a trap, planning to detonate the rock layers and bury him alive.
Yet, Horn merely stomped his foot, forcibly calming the surging earth elements below, stabilizing the cave’s structure with an earth-element shield. He even turned the subterranean tremors against them, disorienting the ambushers into chaos.
Augusta and Horn, like two sharp blades, relentlessly carved through the native coalition’s defenses.
Their exploits spread like legends among the apprentices, each report of a “desperate counterattack” boosting the morale of their peers.
Gradually, the communication artifacts no longer carried cries for help but instead buzzed with the latest news of Augusta and Horn breaking through encirclements.
“Lady Augusta breached another native blockade! She’s too strong—she doesn’t even seem like an apprentice!”
“Young Master Horn and his team crushed a native knight order head-on! Those knights couldn’t budge him an inch!”
“With them around, these natives are nothing!”
Unknowingly, the wizard apprentices’ fear of the natives transformed into a strange “excitement.”
They no longer saw the natives as life-threatening enemies but as a massive “target” to test their strength and earn merits.
They began eagerly comparing Augusta and Horn’s achievements, speculating which genius would ultimately dominate this “trial” and claim victory.
In the secret camp of the native coalition, inside a massive tent, the atmosphere was heavy yet tinged with the excitement of scheming.
A beast-hide map marked the movements of the wizard apprentices and the locations of traps set by the natives.
“Progress is smooth,” a young knight commander said in a low voice, his finger tracing over areas marked as “cleared” on the map. “These outsiders are more gullible than we expected. They’re too confident in their power and underestimate us.”
“The spatial lockdown barrier is taking effect, cutting off their escape routes,” Priest Oswald said with an emotionless calm. “Once dragged into our designated battlefield, their witchcraft becomes a consumable resource.”
The other leaders nodded in agreement.
Through continuous intelligence, they precisely tracked the apprentices’ movements and energy expenditure.
The apprentices who survived the initial ambushes were like lambs herded into a pre-set slaughterhouse, inching toward their doom.
The high-grade wizard tools the apprentices prided themselves on were rapidly depleting in battle, their potion reserves dwindling, and their mental strength unable to sustain prolonged high-intensity combat.
They were like a fire running low on fuel—blazing fiercely but inevitably fading.
Especially those few apprentices who recently shone in battle—Augusta’s thunderous storms, Horn’s stone fortress, and other rising “geniuses.”
Their strength cost the native coalition dearly but also provided highly precise intelligence.
“That one skilled in lightning attacks… Augusta,” a shaman rasped, a flicker of wariness in his eyes. “Her thunder can destroy our totem arrays, and she’s too fast for our warriors to catch.”
“The one who commands the earth, Horn, is also troublesome. His defenses are too strong. Our physical strikes have little effect—we need higher-level magic to break through,” another knight commander added.
“These people need to be accounted for…”
On the beast-hide map, special symbols marked various points, not just for Augusta and Horn but also for other geniuses who had recently gained fame on the battlefield.
These symbols detailed their activity zones and combat styles.
The ordinary apprentices, easily dispatched, weren’t even worth their attention. Only by eliminating these shining geniuses could they truly strike at the “wizards’” core—a true “retaliation”!
Yet, in this sea of clear intelligence, one area stood out for its lack of specific information.
The northwest corner of the map, originally marked as “heavily ambushed with high-level magical beasts,” had recently gone eerily silent.
It was like a black hole, swallowing all prying eyes.
The anomaly in this area naturally sparked debate among the native leaders.
“The scout team sent there… lost contact.”
“The assassination squad didn’t return either, despite orders to split into two groups—one overt, one covert—for investigation.”
“We sent three vanguard units, including thirty elite knights and two mid-tier shamans… all lost contact! No distress signals!”
In the meeting hall, the air of control shattered, replaced by unease and irritation.
“This should be impossible. With our arrangements, some information should have come back. Even if they encountered the strongest beast horde or were defeated by those two geniuses, someone would’ve escaped to report!”
A young knight, responsible for intelligence, frowned. This complete “silence” sent chills down his spine.
“Based on the current situation, the battle traces in that area… are abnormal. It’s not typical beast combat or the usual witchcraft destruction. The entire area has been reduced to scorched earth, as if plowed by endless flames. Even the remains of beasts and our forces were burned to ashes, unrecognizable.”