Clang!
A sharp, metallic ring echoed through the air as a longsword scraped violently against Sheffil’s arm.
“What the hell is this?”
Sheffil raised a single hand to block the sword and looked at the statue before him in confusion.
That strike didn’t even have the strength of a second-tier spell.
It hadn’t scratched him—hadn’t even touched the defensive rune Dorothy had layered onto him.
The stone statue tried to pull its sword back for another swing, but Sheffil batted it away with ease, then drove a fist straight through the statue’s body.
In one smooth motion, he ripped out a gray-black core stone, densely etched with complex magical runes.
The moment he pulled it free, the statue crumbled as though some vital connection had been severed.
It collapsed in front of them into nothing more than rubble and twisted tree roots.
“So that’s the golem’s magic core?”
“Mm. I’ve only heard about them in class before. This is my first time seeing one in real life.”
With the golem easily dispatched, Dorothy stepped closer and glanced at the core in Sheffil’s hand, then up at him.
Sheffil remained puzzled.
Because of his martial arts training, his eyes were partially enhanced by a spell known as Mage’s Sight, which illuminated anything with magical flow in bright highlight and could even simulate its rough structure.
Thanks to that, he had effortlessly located and extracted the golem’s core.
“This one looks pretty advanced,” Dorothy commented, taking the core from Sheffil and inspecting it closely.
“What do you think of its power?”
“Average. Not even second-tier. Didn’t feel good, either.”
“That’s odd. Jianle and I once ran into a pack of golems on a mission.”
“A dozen of them—each one with fourth-tier strength.”
“But their cores weren’t even half as refined as this one.”
“Hm…”
Sheffil frowned at that.
He could tell there was something unusual about this core.
The golem itself had been weak, no doubt—but maybe its value lay elsewhere.
As that thought crossed his mind, the magical circuits on the core in Dorothy’s hand suddenly surged with energy.
The crimson gem flared to life, glowing as brightly as the sun.
“Wait—!”
“Word Spell: Phase Breakthrough!”
Sheffil’s pupils contracted.
He turned to warn Dorothy, but she was already a step ahead.
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the core into the air and grabbed Sheffil, pulling him into the void.
His vision instantly shifted to hues of black and deep blue—the typical sensation when viewing the real world from within a Phase Space.
In truth, their physical bodies hadn’t moved; they were simply observing from the “underside” of reality.
Everything continued to function normally in the real world—right up to the moment the core, now transformed into a bomb, detonated.
BOOM!
There was no sound in the Phase Space, but the explosion’s magnitude needed no noise.
The sky was consumed by a massive, golden-red blast, its fire spreading wildly in elegant yet horrifying arcs.
Even just watching it, Sheffil could feel its deadly force.
But that wasn’t the end.
As the initial blast subsided, torrents of fire lashed outward.
Liquid flames, thrown in every direction by the shockwave, devoured nearby buildings like they were paper.
In only three seconds, half the street was gone—swallowed by fire and destruction.
It became clear to both Sheffil and Dorothy in that moment: the golem’s creator might be mediocre at making puppets, but when it came to explosives, they were on par with legends like Huang Quan or Kuang Yan.
Had that thing exploded while they were still holding it, even Dorothy’s protective magic might not have saved them from the liquid fire.
At best, they’d have been burned down to the bone.
After five seconds, the Phase Breakthrough ended.
The two returned from the hidden layer of the world and stood once more on solid ground—face-to-face with the inferno still raging in front of them.
Just moments ago, this had been one of the most developed streets in Jadecrest Academy’s host city.
Without a word, Dorothy raised her wand and began chanting.
A blue light circle shimmered around them.
The oppressive heat and suffocating air instantly faded.
“Fourth-tier Flame Warding Spell.”
Dorothy smiled at Sheffil, one hand behind her back.
“We’ll need to be extra careful from now on.”
“No kidding. I didn’t expect the one targeting me to be this dangerous.”
Until now, Sheffil had treated the situation with a touch of indifference.
But after witnessing the explosion’s destructive power firsthand, his expression turned serious.
“In that case—”
Sheffil raised his hand.
A mist of dampened magic energy began to swirl around him once more.
“Battle Art: Sea of Mist.”
Unlike the mage fog that symbolized fourth-tier spells, this mist was gray—thicker, denser—and it billowed up from beneath his feet, quickly spreading out over the flames ahead and swallowing the entire street in its tide.
In the blink of an eye, the whole avenue was submerged beneath a sea of mist.