School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 95 --A Space Without Life

United in spirit, the sea race and the magic array underwent another transformation.

The beast head atop Quincy’s staff planted in the ground let out a mighty roar.

A sparkling green light ball emerged from its mouth, swiftly growing into a creature resembling neither a snake nor a dragon, about ten meters in length.

It had a long, pointed horn on its head, reminiscent of a demon escaped from hell.

"Our race’s guardian beast – the Ocean-Origin Protodragon," Bessie exclaimed, her eyes wide with awe, larger than those of a cow.

She gazed deeply at Quincy, her expression somewhat dazed.

"Who exactly are you?" she murmured, her mind drifting to the venerable grandmaster of her race.

The Ocean-Origin Protodragon circled above the group’s heads before shooting upwards.

As it disappeared into the depths of the sea, a massive bolt of lightning struck down from the sky.

The sea race was thoroughly astonished.

They were deep in the ocean, thousands of meters down – how could lightning reach them here? What kind of power did Quincy possess?

The lightning struck precisely at the center of the magic array, sending electric snakes along the pathways Quincy had earlier drawn. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

From above, the entire array was awakened, emitting a bright silver glow.

Faced with this celestial phenomenon, the commander of the Ambition Army finally showed a hint of fear.

They were ghosts, unafraid of death or pain, but they dreaded the might of the heavens.

After all, they were already ethereal beings.

The commander turned his head, and a cavalry ghost from the rear charged fearlessly at the array.

As soon as its body touched the magic array, a flash of silver light struck it, turning the cavalry ghost into smoke that dissipated instantly.

The commander straightened up, his gaze solemn.

After a moment of contemplation, he hurled his long spear.

Just like the cavalry ghost, as soon as the spear tip touched the magic array, it too turned into smoke.

The Ambition Army fell completely silent.

Quincy patted Berkeley on the shoulder, not out of familiarity but simply because Berkeley was beside him: "You stay here and guard, I’ll go find them."

Finn quickly interjected, "I’ll go with you."

Quincy’s lips curled into a smirk as he stepped out of the magic array: "See if you can even get out first."

His eyes gleamed mockingly as he jumped into the well.

"What does he mean by that?" Finn’s face darkened.

Berkeley, his eyes moving swiftly, shouted, "No good, this array has a confining effect!"

A member of the sea race, hearing this, reached out to touch the magic array.

A flash of electricity passed, and the sea folk’s hand instantly turned charred black, filling the array with the smell of burnt flesh and oil.

"Damn it, Quincy is up to no good, planning to trap us here," Finn realized bitterly.

Berkeley shook his head, speaking gravely, "It might not be to trap us, but simply to force us to confront endless ghosts."

The faces of the sea race warriors darkened.

They hadn’t anticipated being outmaneuvered by Quincy.

He sought the treasure for himself while leaving them to guard the entrance.

"Dammit..." they cursed.

With things beyond their control, Berkeley turned back: "We need to be cautious. This array isn’t invincible."

After dropping this remark, he turned his attention to the Ambition Army. "Hey, why is there one ghost missing?"

Morton replied, "While you were talking with Quincy, one slipped away."

A sense of foreboding rose in Berkeley’s heart, but he still tried to reassure the group: "Settle down, don’t think about the treasure now. If Stanbeck gets the Heart of the Ocean, your contributions won’t be forgotten."

Quincy had made the effects of this magic array quite clear.

The united spirit of everyone present would make the array increasingly powerful.

Should any discord arise, it was inevitable for the array to malfunction.

Berkeley, as the most mature and experienced person present, had to take on this responsibility.

The efficacy of Quincy’s magic array had been witnessed by all.

The sea race warriors also came to a realization.

Competing for the treasure inside would be futile against the likes of Stanbeck, Owen, and the scheming Quincy.

They might even lose their lives in the space below the well due to their own greed.

It seemed wiser to guard the entrance here – if not for the glory, then for the hard work.

With this understanding, their focus sharpened, and the magic array grew even brighter.

Morton’s ears twitched, and he suddenly pointed towards the horizon: "What’s that?"

Endless ghosts swirled above Heartstealer Island, obscuring the light of the Heart of the Ocean.

The island seemed enveloped in night.

However, in the sky, amidst thunder and lightning, a dark cloud-like mass was shedding an unusual red light.

The light grew increasingly intense, and the sound, like a muffled drum, became heavier.

Berkeley saw it clearly: "Reinforcements for the Ambition Army are coming. That ghost was seeking help."

The sea race warriors were stunned, standing frozen in place.

The souls of the Ambition Army were unlike other ghosts – not as mindless, capable of plotting how to harm the living, and even understanding the concept of calling for backup.

Now, the situation had become even more complicated.

Berkeley’s mouth twitched, and his legs involuntarily began to tremble.

...

Regaining consciousness from his dazed state, Owen realized he was submerged in water.

He tried to activate his arcanergy to escape the well, but found it impossible.

His body wouldn’t move, gripped by a strong suction force dragging him down.

In the deep blue water, the light was dim.

Owen opened his eyes, only to find his vision covered in a green hue.

His Emerald Eye had lost its effectiveness.

This space greatly reduced the efficiency of arcanergy operation, almost mimicking the effects of an "arcanergy forbidden" zone.

Unable to use Hydrophobic Spell due to the hindered arcanergy, Owen surprisingly found he could breathe easily, unaffected by the water.

As he continued to sink, his mind was awash with thoughts.

The momentary lapse of consciousness was bizarre. Several faces flashed through his mind.

Stanbeck – unlikely, he lacked such cunning.

Phyllis – the siren didn’t seem trustworthy.

Bessie and Aldington had low presence and no apparent motive to act against him.

If they were to make a move, it would be logical to wait until he obtained the Heart of the Ocean.

Then there was Quincy.

Quincy’s face lingered in Owen’s mind the longest.

After analyzing, he still felt Quincy was the most suspicious.

However, one question puzzled him.

If Quincy possessed such arcana, why hadn’t he used it during their previous battle?

With its use, Owen would have been severely injured.

Lost in thought, his vision darkened, and when he opened his eyes again, the scene had changed.

Owen found himself standing beside a small stream.

The stream was crystal clear, its gentle flow murmuring softly.

On both sides of the riverbank, lush green trees formed a canopy, their leaves casting mottled shadows on the ground as sunlight filtered through.

A breeze rustled the leaves.

In the distance, houses could be seen with smoke rising from them.

Owen felt his clothes, finding them dry without any trace of water.

He looked up at the sky, frowning and thinking to himself, "Could it be that the well is merely a passage, unrelated to water?"

He followed the stream uphill, but stopped in his tracks as he lifted his gaze.

Before him stretched a vast field of golden wheat, the waves of grain like a golden ocean upon the earth.

The setting sun cast the sky in hues of gold.

"What a view, quite impressive," he mused, his mood lightening as he continued forward.

However, the more he walked, the stranger he felt. He had passed several farmhouses, yet he hadn’t encountered a single person.

The fields, the farms, all were eerily quiet, sending chills down his spine.

Owen even entered a house to check. In the kitchen, steamed buns, white as snow, were still emitting steam.

He dared not eat them but picked one up to squeeze it – hot and soft.

But where were the people?

Owen, looking bewildered, wandered through the wheat field.

Just then, a butterfly fluttered past his face.

He casually reached out to catch it, but the butterfly simply flew through his hand.

His hair stood on end: "It’s fake."

He prodded a green grasshopper in the field, unable to touch it either.

Were all living creatures just illusions?

Owen plucked a wheat stalk and chewed on it.

The juice burst in his mouth, tasting tart and bitter, just like green grass.

"Interesting," he muttered, raising his eyebrows as he looked around.

The golden wheat field suddenly began to undulate, as if a wave was sweeping through it.

Owen’s trident appeared in his hand, as he could clearly see something approaching through the wheat, creating the wave-like motion.

The thing burst out from the wheat field.

He had extended his trident halfway before realizing it was an electric eel from the sea race.

The electric eel looked somewhat repulsive, its human form giving off a weird, flexible, foldable sensation, swaying like seaweed.

Upon seeing Owen, the electric eel’s eyes lit up with the excitement of encountering a kin in a foreign land.

But in the next instant, the excitement in its eyes faded, replaced by intense wariness: "Owen, you’re not dead."

Owen walked forward, retracting his trident: "Stop acting tough. It’s just the two of us in this godforsaken place. Are we going to fight each other here?"

The electric eel took a couple of steps back, looking awkward: "Shall we travel together?"

"Sure," Owen replied. He had no grudge against the sea race, and in this space, traveling with someone could ease the psychological pressure.

"What’s your name?"

"Boyd."

"And the others?"

As Owen asked this question, Boyd’s expression darkened: "Quincy’s a bastard. He just pushed me down here."

"They used you to scout the way?"