“It’s the lightning spirit! Hold the formation,” the squad captain barked. The lightning spirit slammed into the Mystic Water Formation’s barrier, erupting in blinding violet light accompanied by a harsh crackling hiss.
Water was meant to restrain lightning, so the formation should have held a natural advantage. Yet, the lightning spirit carried an unusually pure and violent strain of Violet Thunder Miasma. The impact sent the barrier shuddering violently, and several people inside the formation went pale.
Seeing this, a calculating gleam flashed in Anders’ eyes. He was about to order the second squad to provide support when he heard Elowen chuckle behind him.
“Evander, this lightning spirit is quite interesting. The thunder miasma it condensed is remarkably pure.”
Her brother merely nodded slightly without any other reaction. The three Quinton family guards were like wooden statues, completely indifferent to the fierce battle ahead. In contrast, the people from the Moseys felt an even deeper chill.
A dark look flashed across Anders’ face before he quickly composed himself and waved his hand.
“Second squad, provide long-range spell support. Don’t get too close.”
Another ten people stepped forward, casting water arrows, ice spikes, and other spells to attack the lightning spirit from a distance. Under the combined assault from inside and out, the lightning spirit was finally dispersed and collapsed into a mass of thunder miasma.
However, three people in the Mystic Water Formation had already been invaded by scattered thunder miasma and suffered serious internal injuries. They needed to withdraw for treatment.
“Keep moving forward!” Anders ordered. His face was a blank slate, though his mind raced. He was calculating how to minimize their own losses while observing the Quintons’ attitude.
As they advanced deeper into the gorge, the emergence of lightning spirits became more frequent and far more lethal. At times, several would emerge at once.
The Moseys’ elites had to take turns forming defensive arrays, expending runes, magical artifacts, and even lives. One cultivator was struck by a lightning spirit while covering for his companions. His entire body instantly charred black. He collapsed, convulsed briefly, and died.
Another had a violent thunder miasma invade his heart. Though his companions managed to save him, his cultivation was completely destroyed, and he barely clung to life.
The Mystic Water Formation was besieged again by several powerful lightning spirits. The formation shattered, people were injured, and several more fell.
During each crisis, the five people from the Quintons simply watched from a distance.
They occasionally commented on the lightning spirits’ forms or the purity of the thunder miasma. But they never lifted a finger to help.
Fury and humiliation churned in Anders’ chest, but his expression grew increasingly calm. He even began deliberately adjusting the formation, placing weaker or less obedient team members in more dangerous positions.
Evander remained indifferent until a massive lightning spirit king, nearly at the quasi-Core-Forged realm, crippled an entire Mosey squad with a single strike, and its residual force reached his group. Only then did he frown slightly.
“So noisy,” he said. The words fell lightly from his lips as he raised his hand and flicked his finger. A barely perceptible golden gleam flashed and instantly penetrated the roaring lightning spirit king. The next moment, the mighty spirit suddenly froze.
Golden light seeped through it from inside out before it was completely annihilated without leaving even a trace of thunder miasma. In the blink of an eye, Evander had destroyed a quasi-Core-Forged realm lightning spirit.
The Mosey people stared in shock, cold dread rising from the depths of their hearts. The strength Evander displayed far exceeded their imagination.
Anders’ eyes sharpened. His wariness toward the Quinton family and his humiliation at being controlled by them reached their peak.
