Jeming's figure almost transformed into a twisted trail of light, racing toward the depths of the wilderness, away from the Alliance Camp and the main battlefield.
Behind him, the group of wizards, after a brief shock, immediately sent out ear-piercing alarm signals.
More wizards converged from all directions, like sharks drawn to blood, relentlessly chasing.
Upon finding that attack spells were ineffective, an array of detection, long-range interception, and restriction spells rained down like raindrops.
Jeming had to frequently change directions, suddenly rising and falling, weaving through the dense web of firepower, with each turn perilously close.
"Damn... what an unexpected disaster..."
He cursed under his breath, but his eyes remained exceptionally calm.
He couldn't escape in a straight line; that would allow them to predict his movements.
He couldn't flee towards the Nolun Workshop's defense line, it was too far, and he'd be intercepted halfway.
