Chapter 190 Principal Bartolmew’s City Labyrinthine Magic Circle

The initial stages of the battle went surprisingly well for the Eloriath Kingdom’s forces. Alaric watched with a growing sense of satisfaction as the soldiers and knights, emboldened by the holy energy and protected by the divine wards, pushed back the demonic horde. Commander Jannik Peltzer, wielding the Holy Energy Amplifier, looked like a beacon of light on the battlefield, his presence radiating courage and power.

“By the Light, they’re actually retreating!” Jannik roared, his voice filled with triumph as a wave of holy energy surged from the amplifier, forcing a group of hulking demons to stumble backward. “Push them back! Show these vile creatures the might of Eloriath!”

Commander Isaak Neumark, his eyes sharp and focused, expertly directed the blasts from the Celestial Fire Projector. Each beam of searing holy fire struck down multiple demons, leaving behind trails of black smoke and the stench of burnt flesh.

“Target the siege beasts!” Isaak yelled to his mages. “Take them down before they reach our lines!”

Even Lyra and Cassandra seemed cautiously optimistic. “They’re doing remarkably well, Alaric,” Lyra commented, her blue eyes wide with surprise.

“Those artifacts of yours are truly potent, darling,” Cassandra added, her gaze fixed on a knight who had just deflected a vicious claw attack with the aid of the Divine Ward Amulet.

But just as hope began to solidify in the hearts of the human forces, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. A deep, resonant hum filled the air, growing in intensity with each passing moment. Suddenly, an intricate and vast magical circle, etched in glowing crimson lines, erupted from the earth. It spread rapidly, an enormous web of demonic energy that encompassed the entire battlefield, swallowing both human and demon forces alike.

“What in the blazes is that?” Commander Jannik bellowed, his initial triumph turning to alarm as the ground vibrated violently.

“Magic circle! A powerful one!” Commander Isaak shouted, his face etched with concern. “Everyone, fall back! Now!”

But it was too late. The magical circle pulsed with dark energy, and in an instant, the battlefield transformed. The familiar terrain vanished, replaced by a sprawling, city-like labyrinth constructed entirely of pure demonic magic. Twisted structures of bone and shadow rose from the ground, corridors of dark energy snaked between them, and the sky above turned a sickly shade of green. The human forces, once fighting side-by-side, were now scattered and separated, each soldier and knight finding themselves alone or in small, isolated groups within the bewildering maze.

Alaric, who had instinctively pulled Lyra and Cassandra close when the ground began to shake, held them tightly as they watched the horrifying transformation unfold from their elevated vantage point. Even though they were not trapped within the labyrinth, a wave of pure terror washed over them. The sheer scale and malevolence of the magic circle were breathtaking.

“By the gods…” Lyra gasped, her face pale with fear.

“What… what happened?” Cassandra whispered, her purple eyes wide with shock.

Alaric stared at the labyrinth, his mind reeling. The intricate patterns of the magic circle, even from this distance, seemed disturbingly familiar. And then it hit him. A cold dread washed over him as he recognized the unique, complex design.

“That… that’s Principal Bartolmew’s original magic circle,” Alaric said, his voice barely a whisper, filled with horror.

“Bartolmew? From the academy?” Lyra asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But… how?”

“It can’t be…” Cassandra murmured, her eyes fixed on the labyrinth, a dawning realization of the horror beginning to take root.

The horrifying truth dawned on them simultaneously. The fact that Bartolmew’s signature magic circle was being activated with such potent demonic magic, with such masterful precision… it could only mean one thing. Principal Bartolmew, the once-respected head of the Verdant Dawn Academy, had been revived by the demonic forces, twisted and corrupted into one of their own.

Just as the terrifying realization settled upon the human forces trapped within the labyrinth, the demons who had been pushed back earlier launched a vicious counter-attack. Their earlier retreat had been a ruse, a calculated maneuver to lure the humans into this deadly trap. Now, emboldened by the labyrinth and the chaos it had sown, they unleashed their most powerful weapons and activated the terrifying demonic abilities of their artifacts, clashing directly against those humans still wielding Alaric’s holy creations.

A hulking demon commander, wielding a massive, obsidian greatsword that pulsed with dark energy – Alaric recognized it as a ‘Soulrender Blade’ – roared at a group of knights desperately trying to hold their ground. “Did you really think your pathetic holy trinkets could defeat us?” the demon bellowed, its voice a guttural growl that echoed through the labyrinth. “We have weapons that will feast on your very souls!”

Another demon, adorned with grotesque bone armor and wielding a staff topped with a pulsating, crimson orb – a ‘Netherfire Scepter’ – unleashed a torrent of corrupting flames that scorched the holy barriers erected by the Sanctified Barrier Generators, weakening them with terrifying speed.

“Your holy light is but a flicker against the eternal darkness!” a female demon commander shrieked, her eyes glowing with malevolent glee as she activated the ‘Shadow Veil’ woven into her armor, becoming partially invisible and striking down human soldiers with swift, deadly strikes from her razor-sharp claws.

Alaric watched in horror as the battle turned into a massacre. While those humans wielding his holy artifacts were still managing to contend with the demon commanders wielding their own powerful artifacts, the rest of the Eloriath forces, disoriented and separated within the labyrinth, were being slaughtered. The demons, empowered by their home ground and their terrifying weapons, moved with ruthless efficiency, cutting down the trapped humans with brutal ease.

“No…” Lyra whispered, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes filled with tears as she watched a group of knights being overwhelmed by a pack of snarling, shadow-infused demons.

“They’re… they’re being butchered,” Cassandra said, her voice trembling, her usual composure completely shattered.

The labyrinth itself seemed to be working against the humans, its twisting corridors leading them into ambushes, its shadowy corners concealing unseen horrors. The air was thick with the stench of demonic magic, the screams of the dying, and the triumphant roars of the demons as they unleashed their fury.

“This is… this is a nightmare,” Alaric muttered, his mind racing, trying to comprehend the sudden and devastating turn of events. His holy artifacts were proving effective against individual powerful demons, but they couldn’t protect the entire army from the labyrinth and the sheer number of enemies.

“We have to do something, Alaric!” Lyra exclaimed, her voice filled with desperation. “We can’t just stand here and watch them die!”

“But what can we do?” Cassandra asked, her eyes pleading. “That labyrinth… it’s too vast. We can’t reach them all.”

Alaric clenched his fists, his ruby eyes burning with anger and frustration. He had come here hoping to aid the kingdom, to test his creations, but now he was witnessing a catastrophe of unimaginable scale. Principal Bartolmew, a figure he had once respected, now stood as a symbol of their utter defeat, his own magic turned against them.

The forces of the Eloriath Kingdom were being decimated. Within the twisted confines of Principal Bartolmew’s demonic labyrinth, hope was rapidly dwindling. The once-organized ranks had dissolved into pockets of desperate resistance, each soldier fighting for their survival against overwhelming odds. The air was thick with the stench of blood and demonic ichor, punctuated by the screams of the dying and the triumphant roars of the demons.

Suddenly, a new sound cut through the din of battle – the thunder of approaching footsteps, the rhythmic chanting of powerful magic. From the edge of the surrounding forest, two distinct forces emerged, their movements swift and purposeful, their eyes fixed on the ominous city of demonic magic.

“Look!” Lyra exclaimed, pointing towards the tree line, her voice filled with a renewed sense of hope. “Reinforcements?”

Cassandra squinted, her purple eyes narrowed in concentration. “Not just reinforcements… those are… mages. Powerful ones.”

Leading the first wave was a figure radiating raw, untamed power. This was Archmage Gideon Thorne of the Royal Court, the King’s personal mage advisor. Flames danced around his hands, and arcs of lightning crackled in the air above his head. Behind him marched the Royal Court Mages, a disciplined corps of over five hundred magically gifted individuals, each one a skilled practitioner of offensive arcane arts. They moved with a synchronized precision, their staffs held high, ready to unleash devastating barrages of elemental power.

“By the King’s decree!” Gideon Thorne’s voice boomed across the battlefield, amplified by magic. “The Royal Court Mages are here! For Eloriath!”

Following closely behind was a smaller, more enigmatic force. At its head walked a woman with an aura of quiet, formidable power – Archmage Rahel Klinghoffer of the Obsidian Tower. Ancient runes glowed on her robes, and the air around her shimmered with unseen protective enchantments. She was accompanied by the Obsidian Guard, a select order of barely two hundred mages, each a master of defensive magic, arcane rituals, and forbidden knowledge. Their movements were subtle, their power veiled, but their presence radiated an undeniable sense of control and strategic brilliance.

“The Obsidian Guard stands with the Kingdom!” Rahel Klinghoffer’s voice echoed, though softer than Gideon’s, it carried an even greater weight of authority.

Without hesitation, Rahel and her Obsidian Guard moved towards the edge of the demonic labyrinth. Rahel’s hands began to weave intricate patterns in the air, her fingers manipulating the very fabric of magic. The runes on her robes pulsed with power as she focused her formidable will on the swirling, chaotic energy of Bartolmew’s creation.

“Such a crude and predictable design, Bartholomew,” Rahel spoke aloud, her voice calm and analytical, as though addressing an errant student. “Even in your corrupted state, your flaws remain so… evident.” She gestured with both hands, and the air around the labyrinth began to shimmer and distort. “You haven’t learned a thing.”

The demonic structures within the labyrinth began to groan and crack, the dark energy that held them together flickering erratically. The trapped human soldiers looked up in bewildered hope as the oppressive atmosphere within the maze began to shift.

“What’s happening?” a knight, his armor battered and stained with demon blood, exclaimed to his comrade, who was desperately fending off a pair of snarling imps.

“I… I don’t know, but it feels… different,” the other knight replied, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and a glimmer of possibility.

With a final, powerful surge of arcane energy, Rahel thrust her hands forward. The demonic labyrinth shuddered violently, and then, with a sound like shattering glass, it imploded. The twisted structures dissolved into wisps of dark smoke, the green sky faded back to a normal blue, and the familiar battlefield, albeit scarred and littered with corpses, reappeared. The human forces, disoriented but alive, found themselves blinking in the returning light, their comrades scattered but no longer trapped in the nightmarish maze.

“She… she broke it!” a soldier cried out in disbelief, his voice filled with awe.

“The Archmages… they saved us!” another exclaimed, relief washing over his exhausted face.

As the labyrinth dissipated, Archmage Gideon Thorne and the Royal Court Mages sprang into action. With a unified roar, they unleashed a devastating barrage of elemental magic upon the demons who were still engaged with the surviving human forces. Firestorms erupted, incinerating entire groups of demons in pillars of roaring flame. Bolts of lightning rained down from the sky, striking down hulking demon commanders with crackling, divine power. The air filled with the screams of the demons as they were caught in the relentless storm of elemental fury.

“Royal Court Mages, cleanse this land!” Gideon bellowed, his hands crackling with raw power. “Leave no shadow of these vile creatures!”

The demons, who had moments ago been reveling in their massacre, were now caught completely off guard by the sudden arrival and overwhelming power of the Archmages. Their confident taunts turned into panicked shrieks as they were engulfed in flames and struck by lightning.

“What in the abyss…?” a demon commander wielding the Soulrender Blade roared in disbelief as a massive bolt of lightning slammed into his chest, sending him staggering backward, his dark armor smoking.

“They… they’re too strong!” another demon shrieked, trying to evade the relentless firestorm that was consuming his comrades.

Alaric, Lyra, and Cassandra watched the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and relief. The sheer power displayed by the Archmages was breathtaking.

“That Archmage Thorne… his elemental magic is incredible,” Alaric murmured, his ruby eyes wide with admiration.

“And the other one, Rahel… the way she just… unraveled that entire labyrinth,” Cassandra added, shaking her head in disbelief. “It was like it was nothing to her.”

“They truly are forces to be reckoned with,” Lyra said, her voice filled with respect. “Thank the Light they arrived when they did.”

The arrival of the Archmages had completely turned the tide of the battle. The demons, caught in the midst of their slaughter, were now on the defensive, their ranks being decimated by the Archmages’ overwhelming power. The surviving human soldiers, though disorganized and weary, found a surge of renewed hope and began to fight back with newfound determination, inspired by the arrival of their powerful saviors. The massacre had been averted, at least for now, thanks to the timely intervention of the kingdom’s most elite mages.

~~

As darkness began to creep across the ravaged battlefield, a collective decision was made among the human commanders: it was time to retreat. The demons seemed to draw strength from the night, their shadows deepening, their roars echoing with a renewed ferocity. Human eyes, adapted to the light, struggled in the growing gloom, and the mages’ spells seemed to lose some of their potency.

“Fall back! Fall back to the encampment!” Commander Jannik Peltzer’s voice boomed across the field, relaying the order. “Maintain formation! We’ll regroup at dawn!”

The retreat was a slow and arduous process, the weary soldiers and knights dragging their wounded comrades back towards the relative safety of the fortified camp. The air was heavy with exhaustion and the lingering scent of battle.

“Did we… did we actually push them back today?” a young soldier asked his older companion, his voice hoarse.

“We did, lad,” the older soldier replied, his face grim. “More than I expected, to be honest. But… that magic circle… that changes everything.”

The discovery of Principal Bartolmew’s demonic revival cast a pall over the retreating forces. While the news was undeniably depressing for many who remembered him as a respected figure, for King Thaleon and the high command, it was a grim but valuable piece of information.

“So, Bartolmew… a demon now,” King Thaleon murmured to Archmage Gideon Thorne as they discussed the day’s events in the war room. “A powerful one, I imagine, to conjure such a labyrinth.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Gideon replied, his brow furrowed. “His knowledge of magic was vast even in life. Corrupted and amplified by demonic energy… he will be a formidable foe.”

“It’s better we learned of this now, rather than later,” Archmage Rahel Klinghoffer added, her voice calm. “We can now prepare accordingly.”

Meanwhile, Alaric had sought out King Thaleon. “Your Majesty,” he said, his tone serious, “I believe I can make modifications to the holy artifacts. The demons’ weapons… they seemed to have some means of countering the holy energy. We need to adapt.”

King Thaleon’s eyes lit up. “Steele! That is excellent news! Do whatever you need. Use any resources, any manpower you require. You have my full support.”

Alaric didn’t waste a moment. He knew he needed to act quickly. He gathered a team, but not just any team. He sought out thirty of the most beautiful women in the encampment who were also skilled artificers. He subtly used his Harem God System to identify those with a rating of 88 or higher. These women were indeed stunning, each possessing voluptuous figures with ample breasts, slender waists, and captivating curves. Their beauty was undeniable, a feast for Alaric’s eyes.

The women came from diverse backgrounds. Some were commoners who had discovered a knack for tinkering, others were heiresses of noble families who pursued artifact creation as a refined hobby, some were daughters of wealthy merchants with access to rare materials, and a few were even wives who dedicated their spare time to the intricate art. But their shared trait was their exceptional beauty. Alaric, of course, let them believe that their selection was solely based on their exceptional skills as artificers.

Each of these women was undeniably talented, but none could compare to Alaric’s sheer genius. They held him in high regard, marveling at his creation of the ‘Phone’ communication device and the four powerful Holy Artifacts that had proven so effective, if only temporarily, on the battlefield.

Alaric harbored his own desires towards these beautiful women, but he kept his intentions carefully hidden beneath a veneer of professional respect. He gathered them in a large tent, the flickering lamplight illuminating their eager faces.

“Ladies,” Alaric began, his voice confident and reassuring, “as you know, the battle today was… challenging. Our holy artifacts performed admirably, but the demons have their own powerful weapons. We need to improve, to adapt.” He then gestured towards the schematics of the Holy Artifacts laid out on a large table. “I am not one to hoard knowledge. The more of us who understand how these artifacts are made, the better equipped the entire kingdom will be against this demonic threat.”

A collective gasp of surprise and admiration rippled through the group of women. “You mean… you’re going to share the secrets of their creation, Master Steele?” one of them, a stunning commoner with long, raven hair named Elara, asked in disbelief.

“But… for an artificer to reveal their methods…” another, a noble heiress with striking emerald eyes named Seraphina, trailed off, clearly impressed by his apparent selflessness.

Alaric offered a modest smile. “Our kingdom’s survival is more important than any individual’s secrets. Besides,” he added with a playful wink, “I have plenty more ideas where these came from.”

The women were clearly touched by his words, their initial respect for his skills blossoming into genuine admiration for his seemingly selfless dedication to the kingdom. They exchanged impressed glances, their earlier reservations completely melting away.

Alaric then began to explain the intricate workings of the Holy Artifacts, detailing the materials, the enchantments, and the processes involved in their creation. He didn’t hold back, sharing every detail. Then, he moved on to the modifications he had in mind.

“The demons’ weapons seemed to disrupt the flow of holy energy,” Alaric explained, pointing to specific runes on the schematics. “We need to introduce a resonance effect. When multiple holy artifacts are in close proximity, they will generate a field of amplified holy energy. This will not only strengthen their individual power but also allow them to combine their energy for a powerful defensive barrier or a devastating offensive attack.”

He then elaborated on the specifics. “Each artifact will continuously absorb this resonance holy energy. The lead commander, for instance, will have the authority to trigger either a large-scale protective barrier or a focused energy blast. However, there will be a significant cooldown period after such an activation, during which the artifacts will need time to recharge their resonance energy.” He explained that the lead commander’s artifact would have slightly different focusing runes to facilitate this command function.

The beautiful artificers listened intently, their eyes wide with fascination as Alaric unveiled his ingenious plan. They peppered him with questions, their own creative minds sparking with ideas. Soon, the tent buzzed with excited discussions, the women contributing their own insights and suggestions, their voices blending in a harmonious hum of collaboration. Alaric watched them, a different kind of satisfaction blooming within him. He was indeed guiding them, sharing his knowledge, but he also couldn’t help but appreciate their beauty, their intelligence, and their enthusiasm. The night was young, and the work had just begun.