Magic Industrial Age

New Divine Calendar, January 1st, 313.

Dawn, the clock struck twelve past midnight, marking the beginning of a new year.

The cold wind howled between heaven and earth, a sensation even more pronounced at the top of the Mage Tower.

Loye suffered from insomnia, appearing somewhat anxious as he paced back and forth in his room.

He felt more nervous about Oliveira's breakthrough than he would about his own.

But as fate would have it, someone was determined to prevent him from finding peace.

Roar!

A muffled roar, like the bellow of a dragon, grew from the distance, bringing with it a pervasive pressure that blanketed the sky and earth.

Immediately following was the sound of flapping wings, stirring up gales and roiling dark clouds, as if a terrifying behemoth was descending with extreme speed.

At that moment, the Lionheart Manor stirred to life, and a figure suddenly stomped the ground.

Amidst the earth-shaking tremors, he shot into the sky, where a griffon soared towards him at the highest altitude.

Iron Knight Phil's expression was cold, his aura as frigid as ice, and his rust-colored battle aura surged like a tide.

A dragon lance appeared in his hand, its cold tip emitting a chilling light.

He looked up, staring intently at the swirling dark clouds, his expression growing even colder and more indifferent.

Finally, from within the clouds, a grotesque head emerged.

Resembling a dragon, yet lacking horns, its scales were crimson red, its aura frenzied, and wisps of flame escaped from the corners of its mouth.

Its body was massive but appeared somewhat bloated, its wings like those of a bat, stirring up gales as they flapped.

A Lava Dragon, a dragon subspecies, favored dwelling in lava and was the product of a union between a dragon and some kind of lava beast.

Due to its demanding environmental requirements, disliking excessively cold environments, this type of magical beast preferred not to venture outside.

However, this did not diminish the Lava Dragon's formidable reputation!

In fact, while this sub-dragon species couldn't compare to true dragons, it was incredibly terrifying in environments like volcanoes.

Of course, what deserved even more attention at this moment was the person sitting atop the Lava Dragon.

That person's white hair flew wildly, also wielding a dragon lance, his battle aura raging, making him appear like a warrior of the gods.

It was none other than the guardian of the Carlisle family, the Pale Knight!

His gaze met that of Iron Knight Phil, and the void seemed to rumble without end.

He spoke, "Last time, I didn't unleash my full power. I've come this time to fight you again?!"

Iron Knight Phil, of course, had no fear. He spurred his griffon onward, laughing loudly, "If you want to fight, then fight!"

Thus, two terrifying magical beasts, each carrying their master, charged at each other in mid-air, rapidly approaching and colliding directly!

The clash of two fourth-tier Calamity Knights created what seemed like a mushroom cloud out of thin air, with fierce shockwaves spreading outward, creating endless ripples.

Boom!

Boom boom boom boom boom!

After the first sound, came the second, third, fourth…

Like thunderclaps, continuous and unending, though they were rapidly moving away.

Leaving behind, above Brussels, winter clouds were scattered and revealed a bright moon that cast brilliant light.

And under that moonlight, a cyan wind swept in.

Wind, inherently without shape, could be seen with color.

Strands like hanging ribbons, descending from the sky with the wail of piercing air.

Within that cyan wind was also a person, whose face could not be seen, but who held a sword and commanded the wind, traversing between heaven and earth.

Fourth tier, this was another fourth tier, and also a Sword Saint who had awakened wind-attribute battle aura.

Of course, with the guardian of Lionheart Manor, and Loye being present, the Flame Sword Saint Otto was also indispensable.

Beneath that firmament, a pair of flame wings suddenly unfurled, transforming into a sky-covering sea of fire, as if to ignite the heavens.

Flame Sword Saint Otto stood in the center of the sea of fire, holding a long sword, he looked up slightly, his expression solemn, yet unable to suppress a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Swordsmen always love to fight, if they could, they would most like to use the sword in their hand to make the strong of the world bow their heads.

So, at this moment, Otto had almost no hesitation.

The flame wings flapped, already carrying him into the sky, rotating like a giant flame drill, colliding with the cyan wind.

At this instant, it was hard to imagine how many times the two sides collided and fought, all that could be seen were whirlwinds of wind and fire on the dark sky, coming and going.

Until another collision, the two sides separated.

One occupied the eastern sky, flames incinerating; one occupied the western night, gales howling.

"You are Flame Sword Saint Otto, indeed your swordsmanship is extraordinary, you are qualified to be my opponent."

"But I don't like your kind of secretive people, sneaking around like thieves, unseen.

Killing you, I think, would defile my sword!"

"Heh, the advantage of the tongue is always inferior to the sharpness of a sword."

"Speaking as if you just took a big advantage in my hands."

"Then let's fight again!"

"Come on, afraid of you! Today, if I don't beat the shit out of you, I'm not a fourth-tier Calamity."

"Foul-mouthed, truly disappointing."

As the saying goes, half a sentence is too much when words are not in harmony, the next second, the cyan wind and the burning fire collided again.

This time, it was no longer a simple fight, but you in me, me in you, flames and cyan wind mixed together.

One could see two figures appearing and disappearing, sometimes burning, sometimes entangled, sword lights flashing, densely packed, as if filling all corners of their space.

Finely packed, sword lights colliding, clanging, like pearls falling on a jade plate, countless times.

Until a certain moment, sword lights crossed, the two separated, and began to bombard each other with big moves.

That cyan battle aura transformed into whirlwinds, rampaging between heaven and earth;

And Otto's sword, then cleaved out flame slashes, shattering the whirlwinds.

Fortunately, these two also had a tacit understanding, going to one side of the sky, as much as possible not to affect the mortal cities, and as much as possible not to be affected by other fourth tiers.

Of course, the impact that should be brought had already been brought.

Inside Brussels, countless people hugged their families, hiding under their beds, shivering.

They seemed to have experienced the previous panic and crisis again, only thinking that someone had broken in again.

And when Otto and that unknown fourth tier left not long after, the calm did not last, five groups of flames appeared in the air, and fused into a huge fireball.

That feeling, was like a second sun rising in the night, emitting scorching light.

Although, it was far less than the true sun high in the sky, but the problem was, it was close!

Under the great sun, also stood three people, all dressed the same, only different in height.

The leader, if Otto were here, would definitely be very familiar with, it was Five Fireball Sect's Timo mage.

They, at this time, were constantly pouring magic into the fireball, so that, this fireball looked, more and more exaggerated.

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These three people, although they looked different, their eyes looking at the fireball were the same.

That kind of almost fanatical faith and worship, almost overflowing.

It was also not difficult to imagine, what a terrifying scene this fireball would be if it smashed down, how many more people would die!

At this time, at the top floor of the Mage Tower, His Excellency Saint Bartholomew, was teaching Lilya various mechanical knowledge.

Although he said he wouldn't take disciples, his actions were quite honest, almost hand-in-hand teaching many practical magics,

As well as, imparting to Lilya the ways and methods of designing and optimizing magic patterns.

He had naturally noticed the situation outside long ago, originally, he didn't have the idea of making a move.

The Empire and the Floral Collar cooperated, had already paid a lot, but the Empire was definitely not the Floral Collar's thugs, and would not step up to everything.

If the Floral Collar was really mud that couldn't be supported, then naturally it should end sooner, it was also a good thing!

But when that fireball became bigger and bigger, even to the point of exaggeration, his face finally changed.

Fourth tiers have fourth tier rules, even the mortal battlefield is not allowed to easily set foot in.

Even, even the fourth tier killing each other, should try to avoid hurting the innocent.

But now, if such a big fireball was smashed down, the casualties would not be one or two, but thousands.

This was too much!

At this moment, he finally couldn't hold back, stood up, a magic wand appeared in his hand, casually pointed forward, and a teleportation door appeared.

In the void,

Timo mage was playing happily with two members of the Five Fireball Sect, when suddenly, in front of them, a teleportation door appeared.

A long-bearded bald mage appeared in front of them, those gloomy eyes, staring at the three, said lightly: "The remnants of the Five Fireball Sect, are you here to die?"

A mage seemed to be over his head, grinning and laughing: "Knowing who we are, you still dare to be presumptuous, do you want to die?"

"Want to die? Are you talking about me? It's been a long time since anyone dared to say that to me."

His Excellency Bartholomew smashed the magic wand in his hand in the void, feeling like he was smashing it on solid ground, in the spread-out magic array, three figures 'rumbling' stepped out.

Those were all three-meter-high warrior outfits, all carved from crystal, each holding a long knife in their hand, all raised above their heads.

Those eyes, ruby inlaid, scarlet bloodthirsty, murderous.

This was a golem puppet!

Or the highest grade of golem puppets, crystal golems, almost immune to most of the battle aura and spell attacks.

If this thing went to the battlefield, what it liked to do most was to push flat, it didn't matter who the enemy was, anyway, they couldn't hurt them.

It also didn't matter what means the enemy had, anyway, it was a knife cut over.

If it wasn't for the speed being too slow, unable to catch up with most of the strong, otherwise, it was a real killer.

But even so, at this time, Timo mage had already sobered up, he quickly used magic to stop the unwise behavior of his two companions, and tried to squeeze out a smile.

"That, although I don't know who you are, but, the Empire shouldn't interfere in the noble disputes of other principalities?"

His Excellency Bartholomew cracked a sarcastic smile at the corner of his mouth: "The Empire shouldn't interfere, but, do you believe it, right here, I beat you to death, no one dares to say I'm wrong?"

"A group of remnants of the Five Fireball Sect, actually daring to attack a city, and then being chased by a righteous mechanical disaster, I think the magic world has to praise my feat."

Timo mage's smile froze: "But that, will still be very troublesome, won't it?"

"So, I'll give you a chance, take your fireball, and leave with me."

"Here, the real protagonist should take the stage, there is no need for you and me to exist."

"Good, that's of course good."

Saying so, Timo mage immediately and his companions, manipulated that huge fireball, to go south.

They rubbed the fireball too hard, at this time the control was unusually difficult.

But they didn't dare to have the slightest error, because, that gloomy old man's eyes, had not left them.

And when the fireball was farther and farther away, the world was silent, finally, the protagonist took the stage.

That was a spaceship pulled by many magic crows, the overall shape was crescent-shaped, the four corners had many thin lines, connecting the heads of magic crows.

So, the crows vibrated their wings, carrying the spaceship, quickly approaching.

This was the Carlisle family's famous moon spaceship, able to sit on him, there was only one person.

That Carlisle family's real speaker, the synonym for brutality and bloodlust.

Also the Bonaparte Empire's powerful figure, Grand Duke Carlisle.

But at this time, Loye was also angry.

He stood on the top of the Mage Tower, without saying a word, took out the flame gun that he just got.

Then, without hesitation, turned on, activated, charged, fired!