I, a cultivator, have ended up in the wizarding world.

Chapter 50 An Open Trap
“I think we should wait until High Priest Ant and Knight Commander Lulls return before making the final arrangements,” the young knight suggested.

Ant and Lules are the two most powerful leaders in the allied forces. Their combined strength is enough to rival the "first-level formal wizards" mentioned by other wizards.

They led over a hundred of their most elite warriors to explore that eerie area.

"No!" the former knight commander refused decisively. "The front lines are constantly retreating, and those wizard apprentices have been blinded by victory and are starting to spontaneously gather. This is the best time for us to launch a general offensive! If we miss this opportunity, and they disperse again or become alert, our plan will be difficult to succeed."

"That's right. It would be a losing proposition to abandon the current gains for an unknown enemy."

“Ant and Lules are strong enough; they will definitely be able to handle the situation in that area and then come to our aid.”

Despite feeling intense unease, the young knight had no choice but to abandon the idea, pressured by the insistence of the other leaders.

He chose to believe in the power of Ant and Lulls, and in their myth of invincibility.

He believed that the two leaders, along with a hundred elite knights, would be enough to wipe out any enemy.

……

……

Meanwhile, on that wasteland that the indigenous leaders had marked as an "unknown area".

Jemin stood on the ground, stepping on layers of ashes and unrecognizable debris.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of burning and the remnants of gunpowder. As far as the eye could see, everything was charred black, as if the earth had been cleansed by flames.

This horrifying scene was caused by him alone.

"This is really baffling." Jemin frowned, looking at the ashes at his feet.

He was just looking for materials when suddenly a large group of indigenous people attacked him, and their numbers seemed to overwhelm him completely.

However, this meant nothing to him. Jemin immediately unleashed a barrage of firepower, thoroughly decimating the area and the entire region.

The runic artifacts displayed terrifying destructive power in the raging elemental environment, turning the place into a living hell in just a few minutes.

He used his analytical technique to probe the surrounding energy fluctuations and quickly locked onto a faint life force that had not yet completely dissipated.

As he approached, Jemin discovered that the man was an indigenous person dressed in full heavy armor. The style and material of the armor were much more refined than those he had encountered before, suggesting that he was a leader.

However, the leader now only has half of his body left—the upright half.

After carefully using alchemy and analytical techniques to confirm that there was no danger, he crouched down and opened the other person's charred and tattered mask.

Behind the mask, half of his face, bearing a huge scar, was visible, his eyes filled with resentment and anger.

The man seemed to want to say something, and his mouth moved with difficulty a few times.

A hoarse voice was squeezed out from a throat whose very existence was uncertain, carrying a strong smell of blood.

Jemin tilted his head, trying to sense the other person's mental fluctuations and attempting to understand.

Unfortunately, the structure of this indigenous language and the way it transmits spiritual power are completely different from the systems he knows, and he cannot understand them at all.

He could only watch helplessly as the last glimmer of light in the other person's eyes dimmed, and he eventually died.

"Muttering to himself, it probably wasn't anything nice." Jemin pursed his lips, feeling a bit wronged by the inexplicable scolding.

"Could there be some large gathering place nearby? So I've been mistaken for an intruder and crossed their line?" He thought blankly for a moment. "It's really unfair. I didn't have any bad intentions... although I am indeed an intruder in this dimension."

Shaking his head, he dismissed the question. Employing alchemy and analytical techniques, Jemin suddenly raised his finger and fired several fireballs in a distant direction.

boom……

The distant roar of an explosion could be heard. When Jemin approached, he saw several charred human bodies with terrified expressions on their faces.

Judging from the other party's appearance, they should also be a member of the indigenous group, who had been hiding at the very back.

Unfortunately, Jemin still managed to discover their trail.

In a way, this desolate wasteland, devoid of any signs of life, actually allowed Jemin to compensate for his lack of skill in reconnaissance-related witchcraft.

Alchemy can detect fluctuations in matter and soul, while analytical techniques can capture subtle changes in energy. By combining the two, Jemin can instantly sense any life force fluctuations in this wasteland that do not belong to the environment, without any concealment.

……

At the other end of the limestone boundary, in a temporary camp for wizard apprentices.

The weary apprentices sat together, sharing the intelligence and potions they had just acquired.

Although these people were not in good condition, the atmosphere in the camp became somewhat uplifted because of a piece of news that had just arrived.

"Have you heard? News has come!" an apprentice whispered, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "The location of the leader of the Indigenous Alliance has been discovered!"

"What? The leader?!"

"Really? Where?!"

"It is said to be in a hidden valley deep in the plane. The intelligence was brought back by a reconnaissance wizard who risked his life. They seem to think that no one can find their base."

The news spread like wildfire, and the apprentices looked at each other, their eyes flashing with different light.

This information was obtained too easily, so easily that almost all the apprentices saw at a glance that it was very likely a trap.

However, with the astonishing performances of Horn and Augusta, along with various other geniuses, on the battlefield, the wizarding apprentices' attitudes toward the natives shifted once again.

They witnessed firsthand how the geniuses easily broke through the natives' encirclement and how they crushed those seemingly powerful knights and shamans.

These examples and the ever-expanding front made the apprentices increasingly excited, subconsciously reducing the perceived threat from the indigenous people.

Even though they recognized it as a trap, they didn't take it seriously.

"So what if it's a trap? With Miss Augusta and Young Master Horn's strength, they can break through even the strongest traps!"

"That's right! These natives' traps are only good for ordinary apprentices like us. Those geniuses are comparable to formal wizards!"

"The key is that since these natives are being used as a test by the academy, killing their leader will definitely earn a lot of points!"

Greed fueled by achievements, blind worship of genius, and misjudgment of the enemy's strength—all these factors combined to lead the apprentices to their decision.

"Let's go! Let's go to that valley!"

"Even if there's danger, following Miss Augusta and Young Master Horn will still get you a share of the profits!"

In the struggle for profits, apprentices gathered in droves, connecting with each other to form even larger groups.

(End of this chapter)