Age of Adepts

Chapter 819 The Wild Tides of War

In the fifth hour of this planar battle, the long-awaited thunder roc assault squad finally arrived.

It meant that the bloody and cruel battle on the ground had lost its meaning and purpose. The focus on the war had now shifted to the skies.

There were as many as sixty Third Grade powerhouses on the side of the orcs now. Most of them were orc warriors and orc shamans of menacing stature, while the rest were exceptional fighters of other races.

The orc warriors and shamans either rode on war mammoths or thunder rocs. They charged straight at the massive portal that was still spitting out monsters with unstoppable momentum.

The real battle that would decide the victor of this planar war had finally begun!

Perhaps because they saw the orcs move out, the witches could no longer sit still. One by one, they cast their magic and took to the skies. In particular, Death Witch Leader Khesuna was a most eye-catching sight to behold. She cut through the air on Fourth Grade Corpse Dragon Artest and stood in the way of the orcs.

It had always been a pure deathmatch when it came to planar wars. There was no possibility of truce or harmony.

As such, there was no need to converse or negotiate. It was a simple charge at the enemy upon contact.

One had to admit that the orc warriors were ferocious and courageous fighters, especially after they advanced to higher grades. Their offensive power was off the charts, allowing them to slay everything in their way, be they man or monster. Unfortunately, they possessed a massive flaw; they were utterly incapable of flight or long-ranged attacks.

Orc warriors naturally had no affinity with elementium whatsoever. Even across their entire race, only one in ten thousand orcs could master elementium affinity and become orc shamans. That was one-twentieth the probability of humans and one-four hundredth the probability of the elves.

Thus, even after advancing to a high grade, orc warriors had no way of converting their life energy into any kind of great inner power as the elves or humans could. Consequently, they could not master any form of powerful mid-ranged offensive skills. Even after advancing to higher grades, they only obtained stronger bodies, increased explosiveness, improved magical resistance, and better regeneration abilities.

There was nothing else apart from these!

The witches wouldn’t be afraid of such warriors regardless of how high their grade was!

As the two parties rapidly approached each other in the skies, the first wave of attacks erupted in the enemy’s ranks. They were still five hundred meters away from each other.

The only ones among the orcs that could launch long-range attacks at this distance were the thirty thunder rocs and the orc shamans.

The storm of dazzling lightning blasts and crashing fireballs were devoured by an even more blinding and terrifying flood of spells before they could reach the witches. The surge of magic then blasted through and ravaged the orcs.

The Third Grade thunder rocs were still capable of erecting thunderlight barriers to protect themselves and the orcs on their backs. Though they were undoubtedly suffering in the ferocious tide of magic, they were still surviving. Meanwhile, the thunderlight barriers of the Second Grade rocs were smashed to pieces after just three seconds. The creatures could only grunt in agony and try their best to avoid the fearsome spells shooting toward them.

Meanwhile, the harpy powerhouses following behind the rocs beat their wings and weaved in-between the rain of magical attacks. They had neither magic nor scales to protect their bodies. They were fated to crash while howling if the shockwaves of the spells even so much as swept by their soft and fragile wings.

The one hundred meter altitude wasn’t enough to kill them immediately. However, what waited beneath them was a horde of hungry and howling zombies.

This volley of spells alone cost the orc assault squad one-third of their members.

Those who fell from the sky had to cross another thousand meters of the battlefield and countless terrifying undead to even come into contact with the portal. One couldn’t assume that these moaning undead with drool dripping from their mouths were easy opponents.

No one knew where there might be Third and Fourth Grade undead hiding in such a large army. The more inconspicuous liches only needed a Finger of Death or a Power Word: Death to instantly kill the unfortunate ones with less resilient Spirits.

Unfortunately, the orcs who focused purely on training their physical bodies and not their Spirits undoubtedly fell into this category of unfortunate individuals!

The magic slinging that had occurred in the air had also attracted Greem’s attention. However, what really drew him were the Third Grade orcs that were raining down from the sky.

The chance of finding and fighting against a Third Grade being in the World of Adepts was slim. Even if he did find an opportunity to challenge a Third Grade being, it would probably mean that the Crimson Clan was in a moment of immense crisis. You could never find a situation like this, where Greem was looking around to find the easiest Third Grade to pick off!

Hmm? The one that just fell from the sky with half his body charred seemed to be an orc blademaster…nope. He couldn’t choose him! Blademasters had too much offensive power. There weren’t very many in Greem’s group who could endure a single violent blow from a blademaster.

Hmmmmm…that seemed to be a Third Grade thunder roc falling over there. No, there was an orc on its back. Moreover, that orc appeared to be Fourth Grade!

Greem’s black eyes shone with blue light as he quickly analyzed the basic combat power of each and every ‘turnip’ raining from the skies. A powerful layer of life forcefield surrounded most orc powerhouses. It distorted the probing waves of the Chip and made it incapable of obtaining data that was too specific on the orcs.

However, Greem was still trying his best to find the less dangerous targets among all the blinding red lights with the vague information from the Chip.

After all, he had come here to Strongwoods to help under the banner of the Fate Witches. He wouldn’t be able to stand tall and proud in front of the witches if he didn’t have any achievements to show for it. Helping the witch forces slaughter the low-grade orcs earlier could only be considered obligations already expected of him. Trying his best to injure or kill the enemy’s high-grade fighters in such an intense planar war was the only real way to measure his contributions.

After assessing the strength of his own forces, Greem quickly and boldly set his sights on the isolated Third Grade orcs.

“What exactly are you waiting for? Shouldn’t this be the best time to run forward and kill? There are so many delicious meals here today.” The eager Mary standing by his side licked her red lips as her crimson eyes shifted across the muscular ‘blood treats’ in the distance. It was almost as if she couldn’t make up her mind as to which treat to enjoy.

Alice had a cute smile on her face, her curious eyes wandering up and down Greem’s body.

She might be the Witch of Fate and possess the ability to see the trajectory of most individuals’ lives. However, in truth, she could not see much for this ‘master’ of hers.

She had vaguely discovered this unique characteristic of Greem’s soul a long time ago!

Any of her divinations would be distorted and become unpredictable as long as they involved Greem. Such an abnormality wasn’t caused by any individual. Rather, it was the protection granted by the planar laws, knowingly or not.

It meant that anyone who tried to pry into Greem’s secrets would only obtain incorrect and inaccurate results!

It wasn’t just Greem alone who possessed this characteristic. Even those who gathered around Greem would gain this ‘unpredictable’ trait of his and become ‘variables’ who deviated from their original trajectory of fate.

Take Mary, for example. Given the trajectory of her original fate, she would have had immense trouble advancing to adept. She should have died while she was an apprentice adept. But now…

Alice was the same!

Alice had divined her own fate countless times. Her fate trajectory was to have stopped when the Tower of Fate was activated. Yet, it was her ‘accidental’ meeting with Greem and her enslavement that caused the unexpected deviation in her fate trajectory.

However, the chain reaction from this deviation was too large, so much so that even the first Witch of Fate could not do anything about the changes.

There were countless times where Alice had the opportunity to sever the soul contract between her and Greem since she had advanced to become the Fate Witch. However, Alice silently gave up on the idea after repeated thought.

She had no confidence in squaring off against an old monster, who had lived for several dozen millennia, without the blessing of the ‘fate blackhole’ that was Greem. Alice could see the situation very clearly. Her most significant edge against the old hag wasn’t her identity as the Witch of Fate, nor was it the numerous subordinates beneath her. It was Greem.

That was why Alice had tied her fate so closely to Greem’s all this while. Though her romantic feelings were part of the reason for her decision, it was more so an instinctual response from the depths of her soul and guidance from the powers of Fate.

If fate let them meet and let them help each other, then naturally, she could only resign herself to that fate!

While Alice was smiling with complicated emotions, the other Crimson adepts cast their trusting sights at Greem.

They believed in this clan leader of theirs. They believed in his choice and in his judgment!

The rise of the Crimson Clan was unstoppable under his lead. It was a certainty! And them? They were the witnesses and founders of this very miracle! They basked in the glory!

Greem’s unmoving body trembled beneath the gaze of his companions and subordinates. He finally found a suitable target.

A Third Grade orc shaman and a Second Grade thunder roc.

This combination might have slightly exceeded his original plan, but it was still well within the Crimson Clan’s ability to hunt.

Greem immediately put forth a series of commands without any hesitation.

Precise coordinates instantly appeared in Gru’s mind. The split-off brain was still slowly advancing through the tide of undead at the moment. With his orders, the formation of three hundred Archers immediately turned and started bombardment against a specified area.

A rain of heat rays instantly covered the area where the Third Grade orc shaman had landed.

At the same time, the Crimson adepts who had been staying near the portal started to surround that area.

Several towering figures approached the place, chief amongst them the duo of Greem and Arms!