Summoned with an SSS-Rank Portal Skill

Chapter 67 Ancient Ruins Expedition (5) - Fierce Battle for Survival

Reaching the island required a cautious approach. Swimming was out of the question; the frigid water and the unknown depths posed too great a risk.

"We need to find a boat," William declared, scanning the shoreline. "There has to be a way for them to have reached the island."

His words sparked a renewed sense of purpose. The students spread out, searching for any sign of a vessel. They soon discovered a hidden dock, several small boats bobbing gently in the water. Relief washed over them; there were enough boats to accommodate all twelve survivors.

"Divide into groups and take a boat each," William instructed, his voice steady despite the urgency of their situation. The students, their fear momentarily forgotten, scrambled towards the vessels.

As they rowed towards the island, they strained to hear any indication of the battle's progress. The sounds of clashing magic still echoed through the cavern, offering a glimmer of hope that James and Martha were holding their own.

The island, dominated by a grand palace and surrounded by smaller, luxurious dwellings, confirmed their suspicions.

"This must be where the elven nobility lived," one student whispered, a flicker of hope returning to their eyes. "We might find an escape route here."

William, though relieved to have reached the island, remained cautious. He led the way towards the palace, his senses alert.

"Stay vigilant," he warned. "There could be traps or other dangers."

They approached the palace cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. The grand structure, though weathered by time, exuded an aura of power and mystery. William couldn't shake the feeling that they were stepping into the heart of the elven city.

The palace was a labyrinth of corridors and chambers, its grandeur surpassing even the most opulent houses in the human cities William had visited. The students, their footsteps echoing in the vast silence, moved with trepidation, their eyes darting nervously, searching for any hint of danger.

William, leading the way, felt a familiar tremor of apprehension. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were treading on hallowed ground, a place where the echoes of elven royalty still lingered. Yet, the fear of the unknown paled in comparison to the threat posed by the mysterious attackers. He pressed onward, his senses heightened, determined to find a safe haven within the palace walls.

The interior was remarkably preserved, the elven craftsmanship evident in every detail. Intricate carvings adorned the walls, depicting scenes of elven life, their forms fluid and graceful. William noticed a higher concentration of magical formations here, their subtle energy humming beneath the surface. He wondered if these enchantments were defensive measures or perhaps remnants of the elves' advanced technology.

Suddenly, the demonic sword's voice echoed in his mind, shattering the silence. "Why are we in this place, boy?" it hissed. "I sense a potent concentration of magical energy. It's...intoxicating."

William, no longer startled by the sword's intrusions, replied mentally, "Don't sneak up on me like that. It's unnerving. And to answer your question, we don't have much choice. A group of people attacked us. They killed some of the other students."

"What?" the sword exclaimed, its tone laced with a surprising concern. "Are you alright? If you die, I die."

"I'm fine," William assured it, "but we need to find a way out of here. I'm hoping the elven royalty had a secret escape route."

"A sound strategy," the sword replied, its voice approving. "Especially considering the level of security in this place. But finding it won't be easy. We may be in over our heads, boy."

William, despite the sword's ominous warning, pressed on. He had a knack for finding hidden things, and he wouldn't let fear deter him.

"Let's spread out and search for anything that might be helpful," William instructed, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall.

The students dispersed, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpets that lined the palace floors. They carefully examined each room, their eyes scanning the walls for hidden levers, their fingers tracing the intricate carvings, hoping to uncover a secret passage.

Meanwhile, outside the palace walls, a fierce battle raged. Martha, her staff held aloft, summoned a torrent of vines from the earth.

"Vine Eruption!" she cried, her voice echoing through the cavern.

The vines snaked across the ground, ensnaring the legs of the hooded figures. But one of the attackers countered with a powerful Fire Lotus spell, incinerating the vines in a fiery explosion.

Martha, her strength lying in support magic and healing, focused on keeping James alive. The true offensive power came from James himself.

He stood amidst the chaos, his body enveloped in a blazing aura, his hair dancing in the heat. This was his signature spell, the one that had earned him the moniker "The Fire Serpent" and cemented his reputation as a magical prodigy.

Fire Mantra.

It granted him incredible resistance to flames, enhanced his fire magic, and turned his very touch into a searing weapon. The academy had classified it as an S-rank spell, a testament to its power and rarity.

One of the hooded figures, their voice muffled by their cloak, recognized the fiery aura. "Are you the Fire Serpent, James?" they asked, their tone a mix of surprise and disdain.

James, though momentarily flattered by the recognition, felt a surge of anger. He despised these attackers, these killers who had disrupted their peaceful expedition and threatened the lives of his students.

"And you are?" he retorted, his voice laced with a chilling calm. He needed information, a clue to their identity and their motives.

"Do you really think I'll tell you that?" the attacker sneered, their voice dripping with malice. "Just know that we didn't intend to kill your students. They were simply...in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Fury surged through James. He drew his sword, its blade igniting with fiery energy. With a speed that belied his scholarly appearance, he lunged towards the attacker, his movements a blur.

The attacker, caught off guard, couldn't react in time. James's blade sliced through the air, connecting with the attacker's left arm, leaving a deep, cauterized wound.

"Agh!" the attacker screamed, their voice raw with pain. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Your next read awaits at empire

James, momentarily distracted by his initial victory, felt a surge of heat at his back. He turned to see a blazing fireball hurtling towards him.

"Trying to hit me with fire?" he scoffed, his voice laced with arrogance. "Foolish."

The attacker grinned, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Actually," he replied, his voice a chilling whisper, "I'm just distracting you."

Suddenly, a figure materialized from the shadows behind James. This attacker, cloaked in darkness, wielded the rare and deadly power of shadow magic. James, his senses attuned to fire, hadn't even registered their presence. A dagger, tipped with a sinister black energy, plunged deep into his chest. Blood blossomed, staining his pristine robes crimson.

"James!" Martha's scream echoed through the cavern.

The silence that followed the abrupt end of the battle was deafening. The students, huddled within the opulent walls of the elven palace, exchanged terrified glances. The echoes of magical combat had ceased, leaving a chilling void in their wake. A wave of despair washed over them. Their protectors, their mentors, had fallen.

"Damn it!" one of the students cried, slamming his fist against the wall in frustration.

The impact dislodged a painting, sending it crashing to the floor. Behind it, they found something.