The deep-blue Tower of Dawn stood tall in the heart of the desolate wilderness. Several soldiers stood in front of it, shouting at the top of their lungs.

"In the name of the Seven Goddesses!"

"Surrender peacefully, Diogres Kolon!"

"How can you not feel shame after committing such great sin!"

They were yelling toward the Tower of Dawn, but the shouting wasn’t really meant for the tower’s mages to hear. Thousands of soldiers were gathered here, and all of them now faced the dreadful fate of confronting the mighty Master of the Tower, Diogres Kolon.

Naturally, the soldiers needed some explanation as to why they were risking their lives against an archmage. Only then could morale be maintained. No one actually believed Diogres would surrender at their cries.

So, when the gates of the Tower of Dawn truly opened, the very soldiers who had been shouting moments earlier shrieked and fled without a second glance. After all, if someone who wouldn’t surrender opened their gates, it could mean only one thing.

Nearly a hundred iron puppets surged out of the tower, brandishing spears and blades. Each stood nearly two meters tall, hulking in size. The knights shouted in alarm.

"What are those?"

"Puppet soldiers!"

"All units, prepare for battle!"

Among the various schools of magic was a technique to summon and control golems from the earth. But it wasn’t a widely used form of combat magic. The reason was simple: Even the most skilled mage could only manage to control one or two golems at a time.

And it was a matter of sensory capacity, not magical power or skill. Controlling multiple golems was like trying to write different words with each limb simultaneously. It was a near-impossible task.

Rumors had recently emerged of some prodigy in the Seven Kingdoms capable of handling dozens of golems at once, but few mages in the empire took it seriously. Even the most legendary golemancer in recorded history had only managed four, so how could anyone manage dozens?

To control multiple summons effectively, a mage needed to create special constructs tailored for that purpose from the outset. That was what these puppet soldiers were. Such constructs were usually made of wood, but the Tower of Dawn had poured ridiculous amounts of expensive steel into creating theirs.

Steel automatons, standing two meters tall, stormed toward the soldiers with blades and spears in hand. Their heavy footfalls boomed across the battlefield.

It was flesh versus iron—an obvious mismatch. Unless you could cut through steel, you couldn’t inflict any real damage to the golems. But that wasn’t a problem if you could cut steel.

"Hmph!"

"As if puppets like these!"

"Could stop our blades!"

About a dozen knights charged forward. They were red-tier aura users from Dreltein’s forces, each unleashing crimson blades of energy as they struck the automatons. With each flash of steel, the puppets’ limbs were lopped off like brittle straw.

Back inside the tower, the mages controlling the puppets gritted their teeth.

"Ugh!"

"Damn it, aura users..."

The steel puppets were indeed powerful weapons, but they had clear weaknesses. They were too heavy and too slow. It made dodging enemy attacks was nearly impossible, especially when the enemy moved with the speed of aura-infused warriors, far beyond normal human limits. Moreover, even the rank-and-file soldiers weren’t helpless.

"Hmph!"

"Throw the chains and ropes!"

"We’ve trained for this. We know how to deal with puppets!"

Every tactic known to the world eventually had a countermeasure, and these soldiers had come knowing their enemies were mages. Naturally, they’d arrived fully prepared.

All over the battlefield, steel puppets were sliced down and toppled. Meanwhile, the empire’s casualties remained minimal. There were a fair number of injuries, but not a single death. Compared to the intimidating entrance of the steel puppets, the result was unimpressive.

Even so, the knights remained on edge. The Tower of Dawn wouldn’t have deployed these puppets without expecting this outcome. More was surely coming.

And indeed, the grand gate of the Tower opened once more. This time, only one man stepped out. It was a man in his fifties, holding a crystal staff.

He scanned the assembled army before him and calmly murmured, "This should do."

The knights turned pale.

"Master Diogres?"

"It’s the Tower Master!"

The archmage who had been watching them from the top floor of the tower had suddenly appeared at ground level. What did it mean when the enemy's leader showed himself at the very front of the battlefield?

"That’s the archmage?"

"Then if we capture him..."

"We win!"

That was the naive thinking of the common soldiers. The seasoned veterans and knights, on the other hand, made far more realistic assessments.

"This is bad."

"The archmage is already out?"

"Damn it! What is he planning to do?"

Diogres slowly raised the staff of Dawnshroud. "If I want Elezar to come out, I’ll need to put on at least this kind of show."

He murmured under his breath while calmly circulating the mana throughout his body. "My enemies shall be suppressed..."

A ripple, invisible to the eye, surged outward from the Tower of Dawn. In that moment, the thousands of Imperial soldiers encircling the tower collapsed to their knees all at once.

They groaned. It felt as if their bodies had suddenly become several times heavier. Many of the knights were experienced in magical warfare, and they immediately realized the nature of the attack.

"A gravity spell!"

And with realization came dread. Normally, a gravity spell would only affect an area within about a meter. It was barely enough to restrain one or two people at best. But the spell Diogres had just cast overwhelmed the entire battlefield, covering several kilometers in radius!

"M-my body’s... so heavy..."

As the soldiers’ movements slowed, the tide of battle shifted. The sluggish iron puppets began striking down soldiers one after another. Now that the soldiers were just as slow, they had no means of avoiding the attacks.

If both sides are equally as slow, then the side with greater strength and durability naturally takes the advantage.

Of course, Diogres had no intention of maintaining equal conditions for long. War was not just about negating the enemy’s advantages. It was also about eliminating your own disadvantages.

Diogres lowered the Dawnshroud Staff from above his head and touched it to the ground. "Rise, my puppets. Walk upon the earth."

A glow of mana burst forth around the hundreds of iron puppets. Chains and ropes that had bound them snapped and burned away. Freed from their restraints, the steel constructs charged forward with renewed speed and precision. As their line began to falter, the aura users among the imperial forces sprang into action.

"Damn it!"

"The soldiers!"

They broke formation in order to stop the advancing puppet soldiers. Aura-forged blades were still devastatingly effective against the steel constructs. As they joined in the fray, the tide began to swing back toward the empire’s forces once more.

But Diogres remained utterly unshaken. Even amidst the carnage of a battlefield where thousands of lives hung in the balance, he bore the expression of a man playing a giant game of chess.

He spun the Dawnshroud Staff high above him. The top and bottom inverted, and its head now pointed toward the ground.

"Oh light of the heavens..." A thunderous roar echoed across the skies, and the heavens shifted.

Light birthed light, which birthed more light. A countless number of radiant spears began to form in the sky and multiplied endlessly. For a moment, all who saw it were struck speechless.

"W-what is that...?"

Thousands of spears of light filled the sky. There were so many, it felt as though a curtain of radiance had been drawn across the heavens.

"How is this even possible...?"

From the eastern sky to the western horizon, from end to end, the sky shimmered with dazzling light.

Diogres raised his right hand and clenched it tightly. "The Spears of Dawn shall bring your end."

With a terrifying boom, the myriad spears of light rained down upon the battlefield.

"Take cover!"

It was destruction incarnate, a torrential downpour of annihilation. The entire imperial army was engulfed in light, drowned in a storm of explosions and screams. And yet, surprisingly, there was very little blood.

Watching the course of battle, Diogres let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness the targeting was properly designated."

Though his words had spoken of annihilation, in truth, he had cast his spell to avoid as much loss of life as possible. Even if they now stood as enemies, those soldiers were still cherished citizens of the empire. He had no desire to kill them on such a field. Of course, the soldiers saw it a little differently from the receiving end of the spears of light.

They screamed in horror. Diogres had cast his spell with the utmost care, infused with a non-lethal intent. But even a stone thrown without malice could crush a frog, they say. And when there were this many stones being thrown, there were bound to be a few unfortunate frogs.

"Damn it! What is the magic corps doing?!" From the command center, one of the imperial commanders—Sir Dejal, also one of Dreltein’s close aides—gritted his teeth in frustration. "Isn’t it your job to block magical attacks?!"

The head of the magical corps, Edtel, answered with a grim expression. "We are blocking them."

"What?"

"I said, we’re doing our best to block them!"

Sir Dejal was puzzled. The sky was filled with spears of light. A storm of destruction was raging before their eyes. So what on earth were they blocking? But Edtel couldn’t bring himself to answer him. He knew exactly what the magic corps was doing.

Amid the torrent of radiant downpour, faint domes of magical energy flickered here and there like umbrellas. They offered some protection, creating small safe zones amidst the storm. And that was all they could do. In a spell that spanned several kilometers, they could only shield a handful of meters.

So this is the power of an archmage...

The power of a single man had stopped an army of thousands, dictating the fate of countless lives. It truly looked like a scene pulled straight from legend.

Edtel muttered in disbelief, "So there really is that much difference between the ninth and tenth circles?"

***

Watching the battle footage projected into the air, Karnak gave a nod. "As expected of Diogres. He’s not ordinary." 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Varos shivered. "Ugh, bad memories coming back. I got hit by that thing a lot back in the day."

A black-haired beauty pointed to the image and said, "The battle continued like this for quite some time, Lord Karnak. Shall I fast-forward from here?"

"Sure. No need to sit through the whole thing," Karnak answered her.

She manipulated the magical display, silencing the sound and speeding up the footage.

Karnak turned to her with a word of praise. "Still, well done, Maloka. Thanks to you, I can grasp the situation clearly."

No matter how precisely written, letters had their limits in conveying information. So Maloka had brought a full recording of the battle near the Tower of Dawn. She was now reproducing it in the air using necromancy.

Serati let out a deep sigh. "Sigh... I thought I’d gotten used to seeing things that defy reason by now..."

She narrowed her eyes at the so-called necromantic projector casting the image. "Why is it that there's always something new that’s just as horrifying?"

Karnak and Varos tilted their heads in unison.

"Horrifying?"

"It’s just a regular soldier’s head. What’s the problem?"

Indeed. The footage was being projected through the severed head of a fallen soldier. More precisely, through the lenses of his two intact eyes.

Maloka had severed the head of a soldier who’d taken part in the battle, extracted residual thoughts and surrounding impressions, and used necromancy to vividly reproduce the events. It was, frankly, a grisly and unsettling sight...

"But it’s just recycling a corpse that’s already dead, isn’t it?" Karnak blurted out.

His reaction was as expected of the former Monarch of Death. He genuinely didn’t see the issue.

"That soldier’s soul already passed on to the afterlife. No one's suffering," he explained.

"I mean, that’s not exactly the point..." Serati had started to say more, but shook her head. In any case, they did need intel from the empire. "Let’s finish watching. We’ll talk about it later."