On the outskirts of Northwind Keep.
One portal after another opened, and the wizards emerged into a secluded clearing.
The clearing lay not far from Northwind Keep, encircled by a dense, towering forest. The surroundings were quite tranquil, and the flat ground was bare save for wildflowers and weeds.
This was the site Cassius had chosen where a sprawling bedchamber palace would one day be constructed, and also the "secure ritual site" he had provided for Schroeder.
Over the course of the month, he had completely transformed this place into his Kingdom Domain.
Schroeder looked around somewhat nervously. He detected no sign of danger, yet his instincts as a high-tier wizard told him something was slightly amiss.
"Lord Embers, it seems a bit... too quiet here."
He swept his hand gently through the air, feeling it.
"The elemental currents here are remarkably placid."
Cassius explained calmly, "It is an aura-isolating barrier that wards off prying eyes from outside. How else do you think I created this secret base right under that red dragon's nose? It cost me quite a bit of effort."
"Truly exquisite."
Schroeder nodded slightly.
After all, that red dragon was capable of casting 8th-circle spells; extreme caution was only natural.
"Begin inscribing the circle," Schroeder ordered.
His voice trembled slightly. The Grey Hawk wizard knew this was his last chance to turn the tables.
The twelve grey-robed wizards cast sound-dampening spells just to be safe.
The parchment scroll radiating a dangerous aura was unfurled, and the vast, intricate magical power sealed within poured forth.
A man's strange wailing arose, muffled by the ward yet still echoing across the clearing.
"Fear and revere the power of dragons."
"Its gaping maw can swallow me whole."
"Its razor fangs can tear me to shreds."
"Its flames can reduce me to ash."
"I shall master it, I shall bind it, I shall become the dragon!"
The players channeled that mana, etching intricate, eerie patterns onto the ground. United together, these patterns ultimately formed that dreadfully potent 8th-circle spell—Vagnerd's Dragon-Binding Circle.
"At last, it begins."
"I will become the dragon-slaying hero."
At the thought of the red dragon that had stripped him of everything, a deep, venomous malice surfaced in Schroeder's gaze. Countless times, he had dreamed of plunging a blade into the red dragon's chest, watching the beast wail and perish before him just as the coalition army had when slaughtered by the dragon.
Schroeder took a deep breath, stepped forward, and took his position at the very center of the circle.
Meanwhile, the twelve court spellcasters of the Northern Kingdom stationed themselves around the core hubs in various directions, forming a ring.
The twenty-odd players stood on the outer perimeter, responsible for the most basic conjuration manipulations.
*Buzz—*
As the final manipulator took their place, the complex patterns blazed to life. A surging tide of magic churned violently within the circle like a colossal vortex, its terrifying might palpable even to Cassius.
As an 8th-circle spell, Vagnerd's Dragon-Binding Circle was chaotic and intricate; even with dozens of spellcasters operating it in unison, the strain was palpable.
Schroeder struggled to maintain principal control over the circle, panting heavily as he pleaded, "Lord Embers... Please return to your noble, magnificent true form, and deign to provide one dragon scale and fifteen drops of dragon blood for this dragon-binding circle. So long as you lure that red dragon here, I am certain I can trap it!"
Cassius regarded him with mild amusement, flecks of magical aura shimmering across his body.
"No problem."
His form expanded rapidly. Soon, a gargantuan behemoth dominated everyone's vision, casting a massive shadow that engulfed everyone within the circle.
Schroeder looked up in astonishment.
Yet that astonishment quickly warped into sheer terror.
A powerful body nearly twenty meters long looked like the very incarnation of might, clad from head to toe in scarlet scales. Ferocious horn spurs jutted outward, and swept-back frills extended all the way to the tip of his tail. The great horns crowning his head resembled an imposing diadem, and roaring flames danced within his golden vertical pupils.
How could this possibly be a gold dragon? This was clearly a terrifying red dragon!
And Schroeder recognized him at a glance: the very nightmare that had haunted him countless times, the Infernal Scourge who had slaughtered the coalition army, the King of Cinders—the red dragon Cassius!
Schroeder froze in place, trembling all over and shaking his head repeatedly, unable to believe what was before his eyes.
"No, no, this is impossible!"
"You... you're no damned gold dragon! You're that wretched red dragon!"
Having lost all reason, Schroeder pointed at the players and roared like a madman, "They... they're undercover agents too!"
"Damn it!"
"All of it was a lie from the very beginning!"
The twenty-odd players threw off their disguises, revealing their true colors as undercover agents as they launched an attack on the defenseless court wizards, sending flashes of colorful spell-light flying everywhere.
The red dragon did not attack, merely looking down from above at the panicked wizards, a glint of mockery in his golden pupils.
"For justice... isn't that right?"
"I never once claimed to be a gold dragon."
"Schroeder."
Schroeder had now fully come to his senses, realizing he had walked straight into a trap. His eyes held not only despair, but also endless, venomous hatred for Cassius.
"Red dragon, you destroyed everything I had."
"My house, my status..."
"And you personally crushed my last glimmer of hope... I'll see you dead! Whatever the cost!"
Driven past reason, Schroeder, as the primary controller, forcibly activated the incomplete Vagnerd's Dragon-Binding Circle, seeking to make a desperate final stand against Cassius with this mighty anti-dragon magic.
Yet Cassius had long been prepared.
Over the past month, he had already turned this entire area into his Kingdom Domain.
Gilded energy suffused the red dragon's eyes, and an ethereal crown was crowned upon his will.
An invisible aura radiated outward. The surrounding elements bent to his command, all magical energy bowing like loyal subjects, and even the Weave was brought under his control.
Kingdom Domain: Prohibition.
Instantly, the surging magical energies around them fell silent.
Vagnerd's Dragon-Binding Circle faded back into darkness.
"D-damn it..."
"It failed."
Stripped of that immense power's support and feeling the dead-magic-zone-like space around him, Schroeder saw his final gambit crumble into utter uselessness.
He collapsed to the ground, his face pale as death, his vacant eyes hollow and steeped in profound despair.
The twelve court wizards attempted to escape using spatial spells, but the surrounding Weave remained utterly inert, leaving them no different from ordinary mortals.
The surrounding hobgoblin army encircled the area, capturing the helpless wizards. They would be escorted to Trump's new Tower of the Great Savant, doomed to become pitiful test subjects.
Chapter 152