The moment Alistair rose to his feet, Alec struck, he had been waiting patiently with his blade already raised, and in a single motion, he cut him down.

Despair was written all over Alistair’s face as the blade cut him, but even his resentment could no longer change anything, at this point, his fate had already been sealed. He was going to die, whether he accepted it or not.

Alec dragged his blade free from Alistair’s body, which had been split apart, and finally lifted his gaze to survey the rest of the battlefield.

The mid-rank battle was as good as concluded.

The Captain-ranked golems had completely suppressed the Tier 6 mages, and for the top Captains like Bulwark and Number One, who were already at the Peak of Tier 6 realm, it had been even easier for them.

As they had been able to dispatch their opponents so effortlessly that it almost looked as if no effort had been required at all from them.

The Tier 7 battlefield was also nearing its end, due to the fact that both Titan and Legion shifted their attention there, since there were no more Tier 8 opponents for them to face, they decided to “settle the score” with the remaining Tier 7 mages in the City Lord’s army.

With most of the battlefield now cleared, Alec raised his head toward the skies.

There, a small forest had manifested in midair, thorny plants and massive vines spreading outward, trying to engulf everything in their path. Countless thorny tendrils lashed through the air, attempting to entangle his grandfather who was facing the city lord.

George Gordons shifted through the air continuously, deflecting some and evading others while retreating, to the low-rank and ordinary mid-rank mages present, it looked as if the Gordons Patriarch still had everything under control.

But to true experts, the situation was far more dangerous, and that was because the City Lord’s boosted casting ability and control over plants had forced the Patriarch onto the defensive.

And if this continued, it was only a matter of time before his energy was drained and defeat followed, after all he couldn’t possibly compare to a real Tier 8 mage when it comes to mana regeneration.

Then, from nowhere, two figures shot into the air.

Cyclops and White.

Since the annihilation of the City Lord’s Tier 7 forces was complete they now moved to join their master, as they positioned themselves on either side of him, with their weapons drawn, forming a silent triangular formation.

When the City Lord saw this, his gaze dropped.

When he looked around and saw that several Gordons mages were still alive, though many were injured to varying degrees, yet many of them still remained alive, while none of his own army remained standing, his mind began to spiral.

Then, in a single glance across the battlefield, he saw it.

The corpse of his son.

It looked shriveled, malnourished, as though all the blood had been drained from his body, the moment the City Lord laid eyes on it, a scream tore from his throat as tears streamed down his face.

“Ahhhh! My son... my only heir. You killed him!” he roared.

“George, I will drag you down with me!”

He thrust his hands outward, and it was as if the entire forest around him responded to his fury.

As blood-colored roots erupted into the air, twisting and coiling as they were reshaped by his Qi, transforming into far more lethal forms, they lashed forward like wooden tentacles, streaking through the sky toward the Gordons Patriarch.

George swung his blades, deflecting as many as he could.

Beside him, his two golems joined in. Cyclopes swung his greatsword in wide, powerful arcs, each strike carrying tremendous force.

On the other side, White reshaped his hands into curved blades, slashing relentlessly.

Together, they intercepted the wooden roots that came at them like swords, only these were far more resilient, each clash sent sparks flying, while their hands began growing numb from the repeated impacts.

No matter how many they destroyed, more roots replaced them, writhing forward as if they were immortal under the effect of the domain’s influence.

At last, the Patriarch created distance, retreating as his two golems filled the gap and continued to swing their weapons, holding back the frenzied assault.

The pressure on both golems steadily increased, because their master, which had already pulled away to gather his strength, was the one deflecting most of the troublesome vines in the first place.

George Gordons looked at the City Lord standing at the center of his domain, the source of all the trouble before him, he was still only a Peak Tier 7 mage and could not manifest a domain of his own to compete with the City Lord’s own.

The Low Tier 8 power he was currently displaying was only possible because of his fusion with his golems, not because he had truly stepped into the Tier 8 realm himself, so no matter how he searched for an opening, every path just seems cut off.

Each exchange made it clearer that fighting a man who had cast aside everything and was giving his all with such madness could not be done half-heartedly, if the City Lord was fighting with his life on the line, then George had no choice but to respond in kind.

Since he could not form a proper domain, he chose the next best option, he summoned his mental image behind him.

Behind him, the projection of a massive golem clad in dark knight armor manifested in the air, the moment it appeared, George felt his control over earth and his synchronization with his merged golem power surge to an entirely new level.

He waved his hand, and strands of sand gathered, swirling around him until they formed a gentle, rotating sphere large enough to envelop his entire body.

At the same time, his katana and wakizashi transformed into pure dark catalysts, the dark energy radiating from them deepened, becoming dense, oppressive, and terrifying.

“Are you ready?” the Gordons’ Patriarch asked, while he sheathed both blades and took a stance. Behind him, his mental image mirrored the motion, its massive right hand shifting toward the left side where its own weapon rested, perfectly synchronizing with George’s posture.

Across from him, the City Lord sneered.

“I’m fully committed to killing you. Bring it on.”

He then drew his right hand that he pushed forward back and raised it high. Instantly, all the blood-colored roots that had been attacking the two golems withdrew, rushing toward him.

They then began to fuse together, twisting and compressing until they formed a massive wooden sword suspended in midair, its tip pointing skyward, radiating violent intent.