It was actually red.
The thought flickered through Wayland's mind without rhyme or reason.
Usually, when you were facing a monster like this, the blood was supposed to be green--at least according to most of the tropes he'd encountered in his previous life.
He shook his head and projected another spear, his expression remaining as cold and vigilant as ever.
Monsters of this caliber were notoriously difficult to kill, often possessing a terrifyingly persistent life force.
He looked down at the fallen Sapp and didn't hesitate. He drove his spear through the creature's skull several more times, thoroughly destroying the brain. Only after he was certain the heart had stopped did he finally allow himself a moment of relief.
He remained silent, careful not to distract Elena while she was still in the middle of her own struggle. Instead, he pulled up the tracking display in his glasses.
He had barely taken a few steps before the air was filled with a series of massive, ear-splitting detonations.
The sound was thunderous.
'Explosion magic?'
Wayland was momentarily taken aback, but he quickly realized this wasn't the Rank One spell he'd just used. This was an advanced, "Ritual" level version of the spell: Fireburst.
Of the twelve operatives present, only Elena and Xavier Boix, the captain of the fourth team, were high enough in rank to manifest such a powerful effect.
He had expected the lizardmen to be around the "Opening" rank, so he'd assumed the others would have an easier time than he did.
But as he thought about it, the intense resistance wasn't surprising. Very few magi were actually fond of combat. Most preferred to spend their time secluded in their workshops, obsessing over reaching the Root--or sabotaging anyone else who tried.
Aside from a few ancient families and the specialized units within the Department of Policies and the Department of Lore, the Clock Tower was not a place of warriors.
Even among the most elite, magi who specialized in direct combat were rare.
A magus was typically trained to rely on their Mystic Codes and their workshops, preferring long-range engagements over the chaotic unpredictability of a sudden encounter.
To a traditional magus, such a close-quarters struggle was an unwelcome nightmare.
With that in mind, Wayland hurried toward Elena's position.
She wasn't far. A few minutes later, he caught sight of her.
She was lifting her long skirt and repeatedly kicking a lizardman that had been charred beyond recognition.
"I'll teach you... to scare me! Take that! And that!"
Wayland felt a sympathetic wince.
Behind Elena, a rift in Imaginary Space was still open. Through the gap, Wayland could clearly see a room packed to the ceiling with tattered, creepy-looking dolls.
He finally had a good idea of how that massive explosion had been triggered.
He remembered seeing those dolls sitting on a shelf during one of their club meetings earlier in the semester.
"He's already dead, Elena."
"Wayland?"
Elena stopped her assault and smoothed her skirt with a practiced, ladylike grace, looking for all the world as if she hadn't just been stomping a monster into the dirt. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. How's the situation on your end?"
"We're managing. No fatalities, but we have six injured--two of them took some heavy hits during the initial ambush."
So only Sapp had been successfully possessed?
Why him?
Had it been a simple matter of a lizardman failing to manifest a physical form and needing a host, choosing Sapp because he was the most vulnerable?
"Sapp is dead." Wayland's voice was low. Even though he'd barely known the man, he felt a flicker of genuine regret.
"I see."
Elena keyed into Hishiri Adashino's channel and reported. "Captain, the engagement is over. We've secured eight 'Cursed Bodies'. These are ancient creatures--biological specimens that don't exist in the modern world. Their value is immense, likely far exceeding the cost of this expedition."
"Excellent!" Hishiri's voice was jubilant.
A biological specimen from the Age of Gods was truly a treasure. Whether they were used for academic research or as materials for high-level magecraft, they would fetch a staggering price on the black market.
"Sapp has fallen, and six others are injured. Two of them need immediate medical attention."
"Remain in position. I'm sending a retrieval team to bring back Sapp's remains and the wounded."
# Chapter 72: The Bronze Gate
A group of mages led by Pascal emerged from the mist.
"No time for pleasantries. Let's get the wounded out of here first."
Pascal gave a sharp wave of his hand, and six stretchers were quickly deployed to carry the injured away. He and five other operatives remained, stepping in to fill the gaps in the team and maintain their twelve-man formation.
"Pascal, those eight lizards appear to be the temple's guardians," Elena noted.
"Are there any others?"
"I don't think so," Wayland said, pointing behind him. "The main entrance is right there."
He had noticed the entrance earlier when the shockwaves from his fight with Sapp had been reflected by something massive in the darkness.
He'd been too focused on the fight to investigate, but once the lizardman was dead, the anomaly had become obvious.
If a magical fluctuation was being reflected, there had to be a significant obstacle in the path.
In a temple of this scale, a barrier of that size was almost certainly the gate.
He'd taken a moment to confirm his suspicion while they were waiting for Pascal's arrival.
Pascal stroked his beard, his expression thoughtful. "Given the rank of the guardians, this temple might be smaller than we initially suspected."
"Let's take a look and find out," Elena suggested. "It's possible the rank of the guardians has simply degraded over the millennia."
"That's also a possibility," Pascal agreed.
The twelve of them walked toward the gate.
It was a massive structure of solid bronze, standing twenty meters high--the same as the surrounding columns--and was set deep into the stone walls. As their high-powered floodlights swept across the metal surface, four distinct murals became visible.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]