"Everyone, jump off the carriage!"

After a brief moment of stunned surprise, Moen's expression suddenly twisted into ferocity. He grabbed Lea tightly and leaped off the carriage.

The two rolled together on the ground, scraping against shrubs and trees, and only managed to come to a stop with great difficulty.

Thanks to Moen's protective embrace, Lea wasn't injured, but her consciousness remained disoriented, leaving her feeling dazed and baffled.

And then, in the next moment, she heard a heavy, dull sound.

It was like a piece of raw, blood-soaked flesh being violently slammed onto a butcher's block.

Accompanying the sound was the agonized and piercing scream of the dragon-blood horse.

Lea raised her head in astonishment and witnessed a spray of blood exploding right before her eyes. The dragon-blood horse, galloping at high speed, had no time to stop and, without warning, crashed violently into an invisible wall.

The fierce momentum crushed the muscular frame of the dragon-blood horse. Yet, before it could even manage a full-throated wail of despair, the specially enchanted and incredibly solid cabin of the carriage collided heavily with its body from behind.

And then came the second carriage, and the third.

At that moment, Lea felt as if she were witnessing the crude processing scenes of the Lower City District's shoddy butcher shops—the ones infamous for disguising subpar meat as premium steak.

It was said that if the pounding was frequent and the pressure intense enough, you'd never be able to discern the original type of meat—let alone if it was fresh or spoiled.

"Ugh..."

Lea covered her mouth as the overwhelming stench of blood assaulted her senses, her stomach churning violently.

"Are you all right?"

Moen stood in front of her, shielding her from the gruesome sight. After a few comforting words, he turned to the others and asked:

"Everyone okay?"

"Yes, we're fine."

Senior Fannie and the others emerged from the shrubs, rubbing their bruised backsides. They also caught sight of the carnage and shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the consequences had they remained in the carriage.

"What happened?" Fannie asked, trembling.

"…Looks like escaping isn't going to be as easy as we thought," Moen replied grimly, shifting his gaze toward the outline of the wall—indistinct without the illumination of holy light.

Under the relentless impact of the crashing carriages, faint golden runes flickered into sight. Even so, they emanated an aura of impregnable strength.

"We've been trapped by magic."

Indeed.

If the enemy had a powerful mage of unknown strength, why hadn't they used magic until now?

The true power of a mage lies in their ability to exponentially increase the threat to their opponent—provided they are adequately prepared.

That was precisely why this mysterious mage chose to boldly construct magic at this moment. From her perspective, Moen's group had long since fallen into their trap. No matter how hard they struggled, it would be futile.

"This… this is a barrier-type magic. And for one of this magnitude, it must be above the Radiant Tier!"

Vicky, versed in magic, quickly analyzed the formidable barrier before them. Sweat began to bead on her forehead as her analysis continued.

"Can you dispel it?" Fannie asked anxiously.

"…No, it’s beyond my capability," Vicky admitted reluctantly.

Despair shadowed the group's faces.

Radiant Tier magic—two entire ranks above Vicky's Arcane Tier expertise. If even she couldn't dispel it, there was no chance anyone else could.

"What do we do now?"

All eyes turned to Moen once again, hoping against hope that he would have a solution. He was their lifeline.

"…"

Moen lowered his gaze in contemplative silence.

He had a wide array of methods at his disposal, but he couldn't be sure which, if any, would work in this current predicament.

The most pressing issue was the lack of time.

Still... he had to try.

Almost instinctively, Moen unsheathed the blade he trusted most: *Elizabeth.* Without harboring much hope, he swung it toward the barrier before them.

"Heh."

In that instant, he faintly heard a mocking chuckle—a voice filled with derision.

It came from the ethereal figure hidden within the mist—almost as if mocking his audacity.

But.

The next instant—

*Schhhk!* A ridiculously smooth sound echoed.

To everyone's disbelief, the pure white blade sliced into the barrier—effortlessly, like cutting through tofu.

"…"

Moen froze.

Everyone else froze.

Even the figure shrouded in mist stiffened abruptly. Her prolonged chant faltered as if she'd suddenly lost her rhythm.

Only Lea stared at the pure white blade, her petite face showing a hint of doubt…

"Of course!"

Moen's eyes brightened as realization dawned.

He had nearly forgotten.

Though he had been using *Elizabeth* recently to deal with street thugs, cultists, monsters, undead creatures, and those greenhouse flowers, making it seem mundane, the truth was far from ordinary.

The pair of short blades, attuned to his soul, were in fact—authentic top-tier holy artifacts!

What’s more, after being specially modified by Teacher Mela, these blades had been imbued with absolute sharpness and enhanced with top-tier alchemical properties!

So, how could a mere magical barrier hope to withstand them?

"My apologies, *Elizabeth,* for neglecting you lately."

"Once we reach the Holy City, I’ll treat you to the highest-grade maintenance package."

"And now, *cut!*"

With a resonant hum of acknowledgment, the blade gleamed brilliantly, effortlessly slashing through the seemingly unyielding barrier to carve out a path.

"Go, quickly!"

Moen urged the group forward. Fannie and the others snapped out of their daze and wasted no time rushing through the newly opened passage.

"Not today!"

An enraged scream echoed as a new, contrasting chant rose swiftly behind the fragmented one.

A duet magical chanting!

The earth split apart, rocks and trees trembled violently, as if an ancient beast beneath the surface were stirring. Before Moen, the ground suddenly surged upward, forming a towering obstacle to block his path forward.

Simultaneously, the enclosing spatial magic grew frantic, aiming to trap Moen within its confines.

"That’s a teleportation spell! We can’t let them succeed!" someone shouted frantically.

"I know!" Pink Bear replied sharply.

Behind him, Pink Bear—a combatant pushed back by Indra King—had gone berserk. Growling furiously, Pink Bear dug his claws into its own gaping maw, retrieving a bloodied, tattered crown and haphazardly placing it atop its head.

"You think I’m all show?! Today, you’ll learn what happens when the bear stops holding back!"

In an instant, blood-red light surged from Pink Bear, accompanied by the roaring sound of waves. A faint, illusory sea of blood materialized behind him.

Gripping his spiked club, Pink Bear smashed it violently.

Indra King hesitated for a split-second, his face twisting into discomfort. He spat blood and retreated in a flurry.

Seeing the opportunity, Adolf seized control—activating the *Eye of Star,* which finally bypassed Indra King and locked onto the figure hidden within the mist.

The starry radiance blazed.

*Pop. Pop. Pop.*

Plenty of blood blooms burst into the mist, dyeing it crimson.

With the impact of the *Eye of Star,* the enclosing spatial magic fractured instantly, crumbling as though it were shattered glass.

In this brief opening, Moen felt the searing heat on his back ignite. Time slowed around him, the delay spell activating, enabling him to cut through the towering barricades and stride toward the barrier’s opening.

"Moen! Hurry!"

Before him, the concerned faces of his comrades awaited, their urgent shouts echoing in his ears.

Just a few steps.

Just a few more.

"Too bad. You’re too late."

Indra King sneered coldly, a glint of malevolence flashing through his eyes.

Disregarding his exhaustion from dealing with Pink Bear, Indra King lunged forward once again, interfering with Adolf.

The faint-reddish mist swirled ominously.

The chant resumed—with a tone of malice yet weaker than before.

Though the spatial magic had crumbled, fragments lingered: enough to confine and target a single ant in its grasp.

In the distorted reality of slowed time, Moen watched as shards of fragmented space coalesced, descending upon him directly.

The exit lay within reach.

But there was no escape.

It didn’t carry the foreboding certainty of death, but the intense tearing sensation already stung deeply into Moen’s flesh.

At the very least, it would cost him half of his life.

"So cautious, and yet I still fell into their trap," Moen quietly lamented.

Still, it wasn’t entirely over.

The intent behind using teleportation magic remained elusive. But since he hadn’t been killed outright, it meant there was further to play out.

And, in this misfortune, a silver lining: the intricate trap targeting him alone had spared everyone else.

What followed, he alone would face.

As always.

And that… was fine.

"Wait—?"

Out of the corner of his eye, a panicked, delicate face flashed briefly.

Just as the searing pain began burrowing deeper into Moen's body, a familiar warmth enveloped him—the same comforting presence he'd held in his arms not long ago.

And then, there was light.

Brilliant. Holy light.

"Holy Light Protection!"