Chapter 0017: The Outsider

Perhaps realizing that the hired mercenaries could no longer withstand the onslaught of monsters and undead, the three wizard apprentices who had been concealing their identities finally cast aside their cloaks, revealing their true faces.

At the forefront stood a burly young man, his unruly hair the color of burnished gold draped over broad shoulders. A mysterious circlet upon his brow clearly marked him as no ordinary figure. He wore finely crafted, form-fitting leather armor and carried a massive sword strapped across his back. Judging by its sheer size, only someone of extraordinary strength could hope to wield it.

Beside him was a man dressed in the finery of nobility, his elegant attire leaving a striking impression. Yet what was even more remarkable was his head: dark green skin, a long and narrow snout, and a forked tongue that flickered incessantly—he bore the head of a serpent.

Between the two stood a petite girl in a pale yellow gown, her face round and childlike. Though small in stature, she held a golden birdcage in both hands. Unperturbed by the carnage before her, she wore an adorably sweet smile, her curious eyes darting about the bloody scene—a picture of innocent fascination.

Grimm's pupils narrowed sharply.

Through his elemental vision, he saw patches of elemental glow and tidal surges of spirit energy radiating from the three wizard apprentices. Judged by the chip's assessment, even if they were not proto-wizards yet, they were certainly among the elite of the advanced apprentices. In either case, they were not adversaries a low-level apprentice like Grimm could hope to contend with.

What business did such powerful figures have here at the Marsh Tower? This was Lord Anderson's private wizard tower, one of the Sarubo Family's resource points, and apart from the annual exchange of resources, almost all visitors were turned away.

Thus, Grimm could not help but feel a growing curiosity about these outsiders’ intentions.

Yet as the three wizard apprentices made their moves, his curiosity was swiftly doused, leaving only a deep, abiding wariness.

Human mercenaries could handle magical beasts well enough, but when faced with monsters like infant fiends and undead, they became little more than lambs to the slaughter. Once their simple shield formation was breached, the creatures flooded in, and the massacre began in earnest.

The infant fiends, leaping and bounding, shrieked curses that steadily sapped the mercenaries’ strength. Using the cover of grass and trees, they would pounce, dragging their prey down one by one. All around, the scene was filled with the mercenaries’ agonized struggles. Overhead, terrifying undead swooped through the air, snatching mercenaries up and tearing them apart mid-flight, raining gore upon the ground.

Amid this chaos, a grotesque undead spirit dove from above, targeting the three strange figures who seemed almost at ease.

Before the burly man or the little girl could act, the serpent-headed apprentice struck first.

With a sickening splatter, a jet of virulent green venom shot forth, piercing the undead’s shell and detonating within. The highly corrosive poison immediately dissolved the creature’s grudge-filled core, reducing it to a cloud of soul ash amid its anguished shrieks.

Grimm noticed that the venomous arrow was not cast through regular spellwork; rather, it was spat directly from the apprentice's snake head.

That was only the beginning. The serpent-headed apprentice, abandoning all restraint, opened his jaws wide and unleashed a rapid barrage of seven or eight venomous bolts, each finding its mark and destroying an undead fiend with the strength of an intermediate apprentice.

Bloodline sorcerer!

This was undoubtedly a bloodline sorcerer, just as described in the books!

In the vast and tangled web of wizardry, four schools shone brightest: bloodline sorcerers, fleshforged wizards, rule wizards, and arcane wizards. Most wizarding traditions developed around these four pillars.

Bloodline sorcerers are a breed of madmen obsessed with pursuing pure ancestral blood. They choose powerful creatures from other realms as the source of their lineage, constantly refining and purifying their blood through atavism, seeking to reclaim the might of ancient beings. Their ultimate goal is to resurrect the glory of those primordial creatures.

Fleshforged wizards are equally fanatical, ceaselessly enhancing their own bodies. To them, all resources are mere catalysts for physical strength. They will soak in toxic vats for years, sew radioactive meteors into their flesh, or endure the harshest environments, all for a body so strong no force can shake it.

In truth, the rule wizards form the mainstream of the wizarding world. Whether they command the purest elemental forces, wield curses to kill unseen, or revel in slaughter by harnessing soul and emotion like the black wizards, all fall under this category. Their methods may differ, but in the end, all strive to merge themselves with the laws of the planes or the universe.

They are the ones who leverage rules to manipulate the conservation of elements.

Arcane wizards, meanwhile, are the purest of all. They refuse to "taint" their bloodline for power, to couple themselves with planar laws and become slaves to rules, or to worship physical might. Instead, they collect and hoard knowledge, arming themselves with it—focused so intensely on knowledge that they become a rather peculiar group, neglecting everything else.

It is around these four main branches that the wizarding world has spawned its multitude of bizarre and distinctive disciplines. They invade other realms, seize resources and knowledge, enslave countless planes, and form the main force behind all external conquests.

All this, Grimm had cobbled together from the chip’s recent data collection and analysis. His sources were limited, so the information was undoubtedly incomplete and biased. But even these scraps sketched a rough outline of the vast and monstrous wizarding world.

Otherwise, he would not have been able to deduce the serpent-headed apprentice’s path the moment he acted.

But just as Grimm was speculating that the apprentice’s bloodline might come from some serpent beast, something even more astonishing happened.

The seemingly adorable little girl made her move.

An infant fiend, running on all fours at remarkable speed, locked onto the trio and charged straight for them, its twisted maw filled with yellowed fangs shrieking curses as it attacked.

Its actions clearly enraged the little girl.

Yet her innocent face showed no anger—only a sweeter smile. She lifted the golden, toy-like birdcage and gave it a small shake toward the infant fiend. Without a sound, the air shimmered, and the charging creature vanished mid-stride.

At that moment, Grimm, ever observant, noticed that inside the girl's cage appeared a miniature version of the infant fiend—no larger than a child’s palm, but otherwise identical.

The tiny monster was clearly baffled by its sudden transformation. After a stunned second, it flew into a frenzy, shrieking at the little girl and hurling itself against the bars. Yet no matter how violently it thrashed or howled, it could not escape that deceptively crude cage.

Spatial sorcery?!

Grimm clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a cry.

Among the various rule-based magics, while any law—mastered to its utmost—could astound the world, if there were a hierarchy, time and space magic would undoubtedly stand at the pinnacle. Yet these two supreme branches were, paradoxically, the weakest in the wizarding power structure. The reason: they depended entirely on innate talent.

No matter how world-shattering their might, even the greatest wizards might never halt time for a single second. Yet some rare individuals, born with the gift, could accomplish feats beyond even the most learned masters—often without any formal training.

Because of their elusive and unpredictable nature, and their utter dependence on innate ability, few wizards ever achieve anything in time or space magic, regardless of their intellect. Without a vast foundation of practitioners, it is nearly impossible for these disciplines to produce truly brilliant wizards.

So Grimm could not tell whether the little girl’s feat—capturing an enemy out of thin air—was her own talent or a product of the strange magical artifact she held.

By now, Grimm, who had believed himself to have a profound understanding of this bizarre, high-magic world, had to admit that reality was still more frenzied and unfathomable than he had imagined. Those three outsider apprentices, even if not yet proto-wizards, must be peerless among advanced apprentices. If he were to face them himself, with only his two clumsy low-level spells, he would be marching to certain death.

Thus, not daring to linger, Grimm quietly retraced his steps back to the wizard tower.

Upon returning to the main entrance, he found not only Allen, the newly appointed head apprentice, waiting, but also the trio of experts known as Hawk-Eye, Plague Beetle, and Madwoman.

Grimm glanced at Allen in puzzlement, but quickly deduced the reason.

The magical short message he had sent earlier could only be received by a special artifact in Allen’s possession. Upon hearing that three powerful apprentices had invaded the magic marsh, Allen must have realized he was no match for them, whether to drive them out or capture them. So before Grimm returned, Allen had already persuaded the three experts to join him.

Who knew what price he had to pay to enlist their help?

Yet, recalling what he had just witnessed, Grimm could not place much hope in these so-called experts. The three outsiders, by any measure, were formidable—perhaps too much so. Attempting to subdue them by force was likely nothing more than Allen’s wishful thinking.