Free Web NovelChapter 559: Chapter 480: After the Battle (Double-Length)
Behind Fortress Seven, about fifteen kilometers away, is an area that has been temporarily flattened out as a "rest area."
Calling it a rest area is a bit generous. There’s no tent cover here, only a piece of grayish-white land pressurized by alchemy and thousands of randomly placed metal recliners crafted using alchemy.
Jeming is sitting on one of these recliners.
He holds a warm glass of potion, emitting a faint green glow.
With a dazed expression, Benjamin looks at the sky for a moment, instinctively blowing on the warm magic potion, then sipping it like tea.
[Soul Spring], a third level magic potion, primarily used to calm souls agitated by excessive spiritual power consumption, aiding in the stabilization of the Sea of Spirit.
It tastes like mint mixed with rust, not particularly pleasant, but after drinking it, a refreshing sensation does spread through the mind.
Feeling the stinging pain from the soul significantly easing, Jeming lets out a long sigh and reclines back into his chair.
With him sits nearly a thousand Fourth Level and Fifth Level Wizards who also participated in turret operations.
Everyone looks pale, eyes weary, mechanically drinking the uniformly distributed recovery potions.
Meanwhile, a busier scene unfolds beyond the rest area.
Thousands of Third Level Wizards shuttle between the various fortresses like worker ants.
Most of these Wizards are Logistics Department Wizards from the Alchemy Element and Rune Element, inspecting energy circuits of the defense array, repairing damaged fortress exterior walls, and reinforcing underground element transport pipes under the direction of High Level Wizards.
Direct casualties among Third Level Wizards are almost nonexistent in this battle.
After all, firing the turret once requires the complete spiritual power of a Fifth Level Wizard; Fourth Level Wizards can pool their spiritual power ten people at a time, and Third Level Wizards would need over a hundred people for a single shot.
Hence, the required number of people is too large, and limited internal fortress space previously meant the Fourth and Fifth Level Wizards operated the turrets and protective arrays in battle.
Most Third Level Wizards stay at the core safety zone of the fortress group, continuing to build defenses under the leadership of several Fifth Level Wizards.
Though this work isn’t easy, visible to the naked eye, everyone is extremely fatigued.
Jeming sees a Third Level Wizard who seems to have undergone body modification, standing over four meters tall, staggering as he carries a rune base plate taller than himself towards Fortress Six.
Halfway there, his legs wobble, nearly falling, and another Third Level Wizard beside him quickly holds him up, both panting heavily as they drag the base plate onwards.
Looking around, all Third Level Wizards are virtually the same.
Despite minimal direct casualties in the previous urgent battle, they still had to transport materials and build the fortress group array, and amidst the cannon fire, persistently engraved runes, smelted metals, and connected energy circuits—the grueling work.
Their spiritual power is almost entirely depleted, and their physical strength is nearly exhausted.
However, it’s merely fatigue, better than the condition of Fourth and Fifth Level Wizards.
Post-battle, other than monsters like Jeming, all Fourth and Fifth Level Wizards have sustained some degree of soul damage.
Fortunately, the command unit distributed potions uniformly, soon bringing everyone back to lively form.
Jeming withdraws his gaze, continuing to sip his potion like an old man sunbathing.
The Body Refining Technique within him slowly operates, aiding in repairing the minor damages to the Sea of Spirit with the potion’s effects.
He can sense that his total spiritual power has increased by about 120% compared to before the battle, his precision in controlling spiritual power enhanced by approximately 12%, and his tolerance threshold for "fatigue" raised by nearly 30%.
Indeed, battle is the best catalyst for Body Cultivator ascension.
"Yo, the little junior is still alive?"
A voice full of amusement comes from overhead.
Jeming raises his head to see Viola descending from the sky, landing beside him.
Viola looks much more disheveled than before.
Her elegantly dark purple wizard robe bears more than a dozen tear marks, some edges charred.
Her silver-gray long hair no longer smooth, a significant clump on the right side is singed by flames, frizzled and yellow.
Her face has some ashes, and a thin, long scar—healing but leaving a bloodstain mark—lies on her forehead.
Yet her silver-gray eyes are remarkably bright.
Deep within her pupils, a gleam of nearly pathological excitement dances, her lips curled uncontrollably upward, breaths slightly faster than usual.
It’s certainly not fatigue-induced; more like a physical reaction at the peak of emotional excitement.
Jeming understands at a glance.
"Did we win?" he asks.
"We won." Viola’s voice carries irrepressible joy, "Though we only repelled two Sixth Level Wizards teaming up, not capturing any... it was thrilling."
She sits down in an empty recliner beside Jeming, casually reclining back, gazing at the leaden sky.
"True Wizards... definitely aren’t comparable to those wild creatures with mere Sixth or Seventh Level energy strength," she murmurs, seemingly reminiscing, "those wild creatures, regardless of their level, fight primitively. Either relying on instinct or talent, battling them feels like bullying fools, uninteresting."
"But Wizards are different."
Viola turns to Jeming, excitement in her eyes almost overflowing.
