Chapter 446: Formation |
"Go notify the others."
"Okay."
While Loren went to wake Reflection Naclis, Laila had already changed into her clothes.
The number of merfolk was simply too great for Orianna to kill them all. Besides, Loren had no intention of overexerting himself—he hadn't come here to babysit the Church.
He was just snatching some merfolk corpses and reaping a bit of experience on the side. All the actual danger should be handled by the Church.
Loren had already done more than enough. He'd taken out so many merfolk and shared all the information with the Church. If they still couldn't handle it, then Loren might as well jump ship.
After all, on the surface, Loren had no combat ability. Fighting wasn't his job.
The Church members were staying not far from Loren, all in the same hotel. They'd previously informed him of their room numbers.
The hotel's decor was luxurious—the best establishment in town. Even the door alone was worth a small fortune.
"Everyone, gather up! Hundreds, maybe thousands of merfolk are attacking!"
"What?"
The Bishop, who had been sleeping, jolted awake at Loren's voice. He wondered if he was dreaming. What did he mean by hundreds of merfolk?
The price of merfolk meat had practically soared to the heavens. Even in all his years, he'd never seen a single merfolk with his own eyes. How could so many appear at once?
But the speaker was Loren. No matter how bizarre the situation, he couldn't bring himself to doubt it.
"Go wake the others! We'll assemble on the beach. I'll head there first to set things up."
"Yes, Master Mentor!"
Loren heard the Bishop's shout, so he didn't bother entering the room. He turned and headed straight for the coast.
Loren mounted the hotel's magical beast with Laila and galloped toward the seaside.
Even now, Loren hadn't forgotten to have Orianna keep hunting the merfolk. But they had already broken free of the fishing lines and scattered in all directions, severely reducing Orianna's hunting efficiency.
Still, between capturing and destroying, Orianna had already eliminated over half the merfolk. The remaining ones, however, were still plenty.
"The rest is up to the Church..."
Orianna ceased her pursuit. Loren's harvest was bountiful—he'd secured all the merfolk staves, five in total.
Water magic was rare in this world, but the merfolk staves came with innate water magic abilities, which helped fill some of Loren's gaps.
Too bad Scarlett wasn't here. These staves would have to be carried by Orianna for now.
Loren had reached the beach. The earlier high tide had receded, restoring the shoreline to normal, though it was littered with fragments of destroyed buildings.
Once there, Loren wasted no time. He slashed his palm open with Requiem and began drawing the runes and ritual array needed for the ceremony on the ground.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
Laila watched the busy Loren, wanting to assist.
"Just keep an eye on the mark's position. The merfolk you placed the tracking mark on—I haven't killed her yet. You can gauge their distance from the shore through her."
"Alright... She's still some distance from the surface. We still have time."
"Good."
Loren quickened his drawing speed. Requiem prevented wounds from healing, and Loren's regenerative ability allowed him to rapidly replenish lost blood, so his strokes were smooth and uninterrupted.
By the time the Church members arrived, Loren had already finished the altar. Seeing the others approaching, Loren immediately put on a weak expression and conveniently collapsed into Laila's arms.
"Loren..."
Laila instantly let out a concerned voice. This wasn't an act—Loren could sense her genuine emotion.
"Master Mentor!"
The Bishop also rushed over hurriedly, but Loren didn't give him a chance to express concern. He immediately asked about the situation:
"How many people came? What are their strengths?"
Seeing Loren's selfless demeanor, the Church members felt a wave of admiration. The Bishop eagerly reported to Loren:
"I've mobilized every combat-ready force we can spare. Including myself, we have two eighth-tier mages, seven seventh-tier mages, several dozen mid-tier mages, and the rest are low-tier—a few hundred in total...
"Apologies, I didn't have time to get an exact count.
"Our high-end combat power might be lacking, but I've already sent word to other Church branches for reinforcements."
"Alright. It's better than nothing, I suppose."
Hearing Loren's assessment, some of them felt a bit displeased.
Mid-tier mages were already the backbone of the Church—true elites. Most of the Scarecrows were around this power level.
Seventh-tier mages might be the weakest among high-tier mages, but they were still advanced mages.
"Now, you seventh-tier mages stand at the corresponding positions on the altar. What we're dealing with next is a matter for mages. Your strength is clearly insufficient—you'll need the altar to fight them.
"As for the rest, your job is to pray. Borrow as much power as you can from the God of Bountiful Harvest. Your strength is far too weak."
Hearing Loren's blunt remarks, everyone except those who had witnessed the tsunami earlier felt a surge of resentment.
They acknowledged Loren's abilities, but they wouldn't let him belittle them like this.
"Do as Master Mentor says! Master Mentor always provides the optimal solution. Even if Master Mentor commands you to die, it's because you'll face something more terrifying than death!"
The Bishop stepped in at the right moment, having noticed some people's dissatisfaction with Loren.
"Master Mentor, how do you know the merfolk's situation?"
Even with the Bishop vouching for him, a voice of doubt emerged from the crowd.
"I learned through a prophetic dream. Is there a problem?"
Prophetic dreams were the perfect all-purpose explanation. If there was something Loren couldn't easily explain in a short time, he'd just blame it on a prophetic dream.
Hearing this, the one who had questioned earlier shut his mouth and obediently took his position.
"Loren, they're almost at the surface."
"Good. Stay back. Leave this to us."
"Yes..."
Laila wanted to help Loren, but in the end, she followed his orders.
Not long after, Loren's intuition also sent him a warning. He stood at the very center of the altar, sensing everyone else's magic flowing into him.
"You few are responsible for supplying magic. Bishop, you and the other eighth-tier mage act on your judgment—protect us. Everyone else, follow my commands and keep praying to the God of Bountiful Harvest.
"Through this ritual, I can unleash ninth-tier magic. This is our best bet against the merfolk."
Hearing that Loren could use ninth-tier magic, everyone fell silent.
Any mage knew the weight of a ninth-tier mage. The entire Bountiful Church only had three ninth-tier mages, and one of them had gone off to become a pirate.
One thing Loren didn't mention: even without this ritual, he could still toss out a bunch of ninth-tier spells.
