I, a cultivator, have ended up in the wizarding world.

Chapter 48 Ambush and Genius

The once pristine and mysterious wilderness of Limestone has now been transformed into a brutal hunting ground.

The organization and intelligence displayed by the indigenous coalition far exceeded the expectations of the Norren Academy apprentices.

They were not just scattered natives, but also highly trained hunters; every trap and every ambush was aimed at the apprentices' weaknesses.

"Damn it! It's those natives!"

"Are there any recovery potions left? My mental energy is almost depleted!"

"Damn it! Why isn't the escape ring working?!"

"There's no way to escape from here!"

Similar cries of despair echoed throughout the limestone realm.

As the traps continued to work, the apprentices soon found themselves in a predicament, being hunted down.

The indigenous hunters, lurking in the bushes, were clad in camouflaged animal skins and carried poisoned bone spears and bows and arrows, moving as silently as venomous snakes.

They are very familiar with the terrain and often use points tokens or rare materials as bait to launch surprise attacks when the apprentices are off guard.

Often, a single, unexpected volley of poisoned arrows is enough to instantly paralyze or slow these inexperienced apprentices.

The indigenous warriors who charged out were incredibly fast, their enhanced power allowing them to easily pierce through the apprentices' bodies before they could even form shields.

Many of the scattered apprentice squads were caught off guard in the initial raids.

Their trusted flight techniques and ability to break free from the rings both failed due to the strange spatial fluctuations. Without any trump cards to escape, the apprentices were like caged beasts, gradually being worn down by the natives as they were hunted.

Some broadcast communication devices were filled with intermittent distress signals, which soon fell silent.

"The shield is low on energy! Only 10% left!"

"My staff is out of uses, damn it! Why are these natives so tenacious?!"

In a narrow canyon, a team of eight apprentices leaned against the rock wall, barely managing to withstand the onslaught of the native knights.

Their magical artifacts quickly ran out of energy, and several of the artifacts supporting the shields could no longer bear the strain and began to crack and rip, eventually collapsing.

Their potion reserves were visibly dwindling, and the mental exhaustion from the intense battles was overwhelming, slowing down their spells and greatly reducing the power of their magic.

These apprentices were all from the older generation, and upon hearing the emergency broadcast, they scoffed at the new apprentices and the indigenous people.

After an additional five years of reflection, these veteran apprentices in the combat system had long recognized their own shortcomings, and they had all conducted in-depth research on several offensive or defensive spells.

Although they cannot yet independently construct relevant witchcraft models, they are definitely much stronger than those newcomers.

Therefore, they are very confident in their ability to respond to attacks.

Indeed, this proved to be true. In the first few attacks, the easily defeated Indigenous squads proved their point.

Their continuous success in battle made them gradually overlook the dangers, and unknowingly they sank deeper into a trap.

As a result, these old apprentices turned pale and broke out in a cold sweat.

Although they had conducted real-world tests, they had never truly faced this kind of life-or-death, attrition war with no way out.

Compared to the current predicament, the practical tests arranged by the academy are nothing but child's play!
Even though every spell could easily end the enemy's life, and even though the enemy's corpses were already piled up like mountains, enemies kept rushing up!

Why aren't they afraid?! Why don't they retreat?!

The confidence he once had has been worn away by constant pressure, replaced by obvious fatigue and anxiety.

"Captain, how much longer can we hold out?" a young female apprentice asked, her voice trembling with tears.

Her mental strength was exhausted, and she could only rely on physical weapons to barely fight back. However, her swordsmanship seemed so pale and powerless against those knights who were wearing simple armor but were exceptionally fierce.

Besides them, there were several other apprentice teams in this area, all drawn by the dazzling pile of scoreboards in the valley.

But now, under the relentless attacks of the enemy, the apprentices have been forced to abandon their strategy of fighting individually and have begun to spontaneously gather in places that are easy to defend but difficult to attack, such as towering cliffs or narrow caves.

They formed a temporary alliance, barely managing to build defensive lines to jointly resist wave after wave of attacks from the indigenous people.

Even so, in every clash, an apprentice would fall.

As the number of wounded increased and the supply of medicine dwindled, an atmosphere of despair hung over their hearts like a dark cloud.

As expected, with the last apprentice's mental energy exhausted, the shouts of battle in the valley finally ceased, leaving only a hellish blood-red landscape.

Although the losses were significant, for the indigenous people, it was a price they could bear in order to seek revenge.

As time went on, more and more apprentices fell into the trap.

In an instant, the entire wasteland was transformed into a bloody and desperate inferno.

However, there were exceptions in this "war," with geniuses constantly emerging, breaking through the traps set by the indigenous people and making a name for themselves on the battlefield.

The two most famous among them are like two dazzling stars, illuminating the dark sky.

Miss Augusta, the academy's darling with a ninth-level lightning element talent, is currently leading her team, traversing the planes with unparalleled dominance, as if entering an empty realm.

Her power was like that of a god who controlled lightning, each move accompanied by devastating thunder.

"These insects think they can win just by sheer numbers? Foolish."

With a light tap of his slender fingertips, Augusta unleashed a torrent of blazing white lightning, roaring forth like an enraged dragon.

The indigenous ambush troops hundreds of meters away, along with the concealment runes and mental interference totems they had set up, were instantly vaporized by the violent lightning, leaving charred marks that snaked across the ground.

Clad in lightweight lightning armor, she moved swiftly across the battlefield, each charge precisely striking the natives' vital points.

Those knights who tried to surround her were often pierced by the lightning snakes leaping in her hand before they could even get close, turning into charred corpses.

As Miss Augusta's fame grew, the Indigenous Alliance took notice of her and repeatedly set deadly traps for her.

On one occasion, they transformed a canyon into a massive magnetic field interference zone, with runes buried underground that could trigger chain explosions, cursed totems floating in the air that could weaken wizards, and hundreds of elite knights and shamans in heavy armor on high alert, attempting to wear her down with their numerical and terrain advantages.

"Ha, a little trick." Augusta merely chuckled contemptuously, and a violent bolt of lightning tore everything apart.

She summoned a colossal pillar of lightning that pierced the heavens and earth, shattering the rune array on the ground and destroying the totems in the air.

Then, her entire body surged with lightning, transforming into an elusive bolt of lightning that utterly tore the entire ambush force apart with overwhelming force. Wherever the lightning passed, only scorched earth and trembling natives remained.

She didn't even pay much attention to the defeated indigenous people; her only goal was the next high-scoring scoreboard.

To her, these natives were nothing more than fodder hindering her from achieving glory.

(End of this chapter)