—It’s like fighting a damn iron wall.
Callista’s hands trembled as she gripped her scythe, her knees slightly bent, panting uncontrollably.
They’d been clashing for at least five minutes.
Even though Callista had the upper hand the whole time, she could barely land any real damage on the veteran knight.
As long as he protected his head and joints, he could ignore most of her attacks.
Worse, he’d occasionally find an opening when her strength faltered and counterattack, giving her a serious headache.
The reason was simple.
First, the paladin’s armor was ridiculously tough.
Second, faith magic gave him insane regeneration.
Magic on the World Tree Continent was mainly divided into two types.
One was fundamentalist magic like Magic of the Midnight Sun, which altered the environment using one’s own mana—also called the pure magic school.
The other was faith-based magic, like what the church knights used, where they offered their devotion to a god in exchange for power.
Each had its strengths and weaknesses.
Faith-based magic varied depending on the god worshipped.
Take the Holy Nation of Milcandis, which worshipped the Goddess of Life—their strength lay in their insane healing and endurance.
As long as their faith remained unbroken, they could heal endlessly with minimal mana cost.
The trade-off was that they couldn’t use other types of magic effectively, or the effects would be weak.
Watching the veteran knight get back up again, Callista clicked her tongue in frustration.
She couldn’t drag this out any longer.
If they kept going, once the other paladins arrived, her whole team could be wiped out.
They hadn’t managed to take down even one paladin, but at least they’d interrupted the persecution of the Darkborn patients.
That was enough.
Time to go.
Callista glanced at her teammates around the plaza and let out a genuine sigh of admiration.
Not for their combat skills, but for the magic casters hidden in the shadows.
Even though they hadn’t coordinated anything beforehand, the casters always managed to throw spells into the battlefield at just the right moment, keeping the Magic of the Midnight Sun members in one-on-one fights.
As a member of the pure magic school, Callista could tell—those casters were way beyond first or second-tier.
Their precise control over magic was far above average.
Not only that, but they’d been casting non-stop for five minutes.
That kind of mana reserve was terrifying.
Even though the spells weren’t as flashy as the initial barrage, the sudden attacks still kept the paladins on edge, forcing them to stay on guard.
Half of them were already out of commission from the bombardment.
The only thing Callista couldn’t figure out was why the casters, clearly powerful, only used first-tier spells.
With their mana reserves and insane control, they could’ve easily used third-tier magic to wipe out the paladins in one go.
Maybe they were afraid of hitting her by mistake.
The thought made her flush with shame.
She was the one holding them back.
“Is that all the power Magic of the Midnight Sun has?” the paladin sneered, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
His armor was battered and dented.
“Once the Inquisitor arrives, you’re all dead!”
Inquisitor?
Callista’s heart sank.
In the Holy Nation of Milcandis, Inquisitors were absolute power.
Every single one of them was above fifth-tier.
If there was an Inquisitor in Aurora City—even the weakest, lowest-ranked one—her team didn’t stand a chance.
No wonder the Holy Nation had the guts to seal off the city with the Unsinkable Moon.
They had a Yuna Church Inquisitor inside.
They were trapped like rats.
This was bad.
Really bad.
Callista gave up any thought of continuing the fight.
She quickly blew the magic whistle hanging around her neck.
Only members of Magic of the Midnight Sun could hear its sound.
The signal: retreat immediately.
But just as she blew the whistle, a crushing sense of danger slammed down from above.
The air pressure was so intense she couldn’t breathe.
She didn’t even have time to look up and see who it was.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs felt like they were filled with lead—she couldn’t move an inch.
A slowly spinning purple magic circle lit up beneath her feet.
A sealing spell from the Holy Nation of Milcandis.
She was going to die here.
The thought had barely formed when the weight on her shoulder suddenly vanished.
A second later, an even more violent gust of wind exploded above her.
A thunderous blast erupted out of nowhere, sending a firestorm across the plaza, painting everything in orange-red.
The shockwave was so strong it flung Callista off the platform.
She didn’t know what just happened, but this was her chance to escape!
Without hesitation, using the smoke and dust from the explosion as cover, Callista blew the whistle again, ditched the paladin, and fled in a different direction along with her three teammates.
