But the situation described in the intelligence report that follows carries a creepy sense of eeriness.

First, since the expeditionary army entered that plane, until the time the intelligence was sent out, no effective information was sent back.

No battle reports, no environmental data, no distress signals, not even the pre-installed emergency communication runes, which seemed to disappear without a trace.

That plane seemed like a silent maw, swallowing all who entered, eerily quiet to the point of making one’s heart pound.

However, sharply contrasting this deathly silence was the remote life status monitoring results conducted through the eternal contract signed with the civilization and imprinted deep in the soul of each wizard at their initiation.

Contract feedback showed — except for three confirmed unlucky deaths, all of the nearly one million wizards trapped in that plane survived!

Moreover, their life signs were unbelievably stable, with data indicating they might not even show signs of injury!

This is too abnormal!

It entirely defies the basic logic of plane wars!

Even the plane Blake once encountered, renowned for its illusion techniques, though it was initially difficult to transmit intelligence, still managed to send out bits of information and warnings.

Moreover, wizards trapped in illusions usually experienced a gradual decline in life signs over time, and the death rate wasn’t low in absolute numbers.

But what about this plane?

A million people trapped, only three dead, zero injuries, zero information leakage!

It’s as if they weren’t waging a war, but collectively entered a dreamless slumber or were perfectly "preserved" by some kind of force.

If it weren’t confirmed that the ninth level wizards had cleared all planes with ninth level forces while advancing the front line, just from reading this intelligence, Jeming would have thought a ninth level creature was hiding within this plane.

Precisely because of this eerie situation, the upper echelons of the Star Ring Federation didn’t immediately take the most extreme measures, like deploying multiple eighth level wizards to forcibly enter the plane.

Even if such measures might push the plane’s natives to desperation, leading to the plane’s self-destruction and utter ruin, intervention would be necessary.

After all, if they can save these millions of wizards, the loss of one plane’s benefits is not unacceptable.

But patience has its limits.

Jeming knew in his heart that if this second batch of elite support troops, like the previous two groups, went in and then completely lost contact, yet still showed all members alive...

Then the wrath of the eighth level wizards might descend the very next second, tearing apart that plane’s disguise at all costs.

"As expected of a mission specifically prepared for elite combat units..." Jeming set down the terminal, brows furrowed, "Just the intelligence alone reeks of something sinister..."

He began rapidly deducting various possibilities in his mind.

Honestly, his first reaction was still that there might be ninth level forces hidden within this plane.

But considering that he’s likely not alone in this guess, those eighth level wizards who control the situation have probably already conducted tests.

Since nothing was discovered, it indicates it must be due to other reasons.

"Is it some unprecedented, super illusion technique or mental cage that can completely screen information transmission? But what kind of illusion technique can trap a million wizards, including high tier beings capable of seeing through illusions, and keep them in a nearly perfect life state?"

"Or is the plane’s spatial structure extremely special, such as an inner layer isolated from the main plane, trapping the entire expeditionary army inside?"

"But with the knowledge and means of those experienced wizards in the expeditionary army, they should recognize space traps, at least send out warnings..."

Thinking it over, the most reasonable explanation might also be the most troublesome one—they are about to face an unknown enemy or phenomenon that is beyond the current understanding of wizard civilization.

"Fortunately... there seems to be no immediate life danger at the moment." Jeming took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil within his heart, "This is indeed a rare opportunity to see what exactly could make a million wizards ’quietly’ disappear."

The unknown often signifies massive risk, but it might also hide unprecedented knowledge and opportunities.

For a wizard in pursuit of truth, such allure is difficult to resist.

Of course, witnessing is one thing; entering carelessly to die is another.

Fortunately, Jeming is quite confident about his preparations.

"No matter what lies inside," Jeming’s eyes shimmered with an inexplicable light, "making me vanish silently as well won’t be so easy."

(Only one Chapter today, it’s the start of the month and beginning of the week, already exhausted to the bone.)