Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree-Chapter 439: Three-Day Ceasefire

If the battle leads to directly sinking several continents of this plane, then their plundering war would hold little significance, or rather, too much would be lost.

Even though they have not completely conquered this plane yet, they’ve already regarded many things within it as their own.

To truly make them go all out, they feel reluctant, as these are potential resources.

Maragon listened to Oshivia’s words, his surrounding brilliance slightly fluctuating, revealing the unrest within.

He glanced at the allied warriors below who reignited hope due to his appearance, yet remained heavily scarred.

Maragon is now in an awkward predicament; if he intervenes, it will only lead to a quicker defeat here.

He himself is not confident enough to certainly defeat Oshivia, and the United Legion has more than just Oshivia as a Level 4 powerhouse.

Maragon already senses that at least two other auras are secretly locking onto him, and they are at least Level 4.

Under these circumstances, if he were to make a move, he would surely suffer.

No matter how confident Maragon is, he does not have the certainty to take down three opponents at once.

Therefore, he dares not continue to act, but not acting only means watching the native alliance walk step by step toward failure.

The whole situation seems to be a dead end, fundamentally unsolvable; he doesn’t know how to salvage the current situation.

Everything still stems from the fundamental strength disparity between the two planes being too large, leading to both peak and foundational combat abilities being incomparable, with failure being only a predetermined outcome.

The only difference is merely a matter of time.

"If you refrain from further action, I will not hold it against you. Why not call it quits here? My legion will cease hostilities for three days, giving you time to reorganize your defenses. In exchange, before the final conclusion arrives, neither you nor I will directly intervene in warfare below this level. What do you think?"

It is a proposal that appears to be a concession, but is in fact an open stratagem.

The United Legion ceasing hostilities for three days provides the allied forces a respite and avoids further massive losses from continued aggressive assaults under the threat of the Saint, especially the invaluable wizard casualties.

Restricting Saint-level intervention ensures that the United Legion’s core strength can continue to exploit their advantages without constantly worrying about dimensional threats.

This aligns with the Wizard Legion’s fundamental principle of maximum gain for minimal cost.

Maragon fully understands this, but he knows more that if he refuses now, a Level 4 war will immediately erupt, likely resulting in the total destruction of this plain below and perhaps the entire Buren continent.

And he himself, facing this unfathomable female wizard backed by a powerful civilization, has no certainty of victory either.

Not to mention the two hidden presences that are at least Level 4; if they were to fight, Maragon’s demise would be likely.

It is simply clear that the United Legion does not wish to engage in conflict of this magnitude, hence their lack of action.

After a brief silence, Maragon’s grand voice echoed again: "As you wish. But if your party violates the agreement, I will spare no expense."

"Thorn Holy Tower keeps its word." Oshivia slightly bowed, her etiquette impeccable yet carrying a cold detachment.

The agreement was silently reached.

In the next moment, Oshivia’s figure gradually faded, disappearing into the void.

And Maragon took a deep look at the orderly retreating United Legion below, his figure transformed into a stream of light, disappearing within the depths of the native alliance’s defense lines.

The oppressive Level 4 aura that suffused the battlefield dissipated along with them.

The war has not ended; it has merely entered a new phase.

A fragile truce agreement based on mutual deterrence temporarily shrouded the Sobbing Blood Plain.

Everyone understands this is not peace, just the brief calm before the storm, a respite in preparation for the coming brutal clash.

The agreement between Level 4 powerhouses instantly transmitted to every corner of the battlefield like the highest command.

The suffocating pressure dispersed, replaced not by relief, but by a more eerie, taut silence.

The order for the Legion to retreat was meticulously executed, like the gears of a precise machine reversing, the massive army began orderly withdrawing and camping at the edges of the Sobbing Blood Plain.

The process was orderly, even carrying a chilling indifference.

Wizard Legions and numerous golems immediately began their work, rapidly constructing temporary fortifications, energy towers, and monitoring magic arrays, relying on the terrain.

The new camp rose incredibly fast, more organized and stronger than before.

In the rear, the alchemy workshop was operating at full capacity, clanging as they repaired damaged equipment and instruments.

Transport airships in the sky landed more frequently, delivering new Slave Creature Legion troops, Energy Crystal Stones, spare parts, and even entirely new magic-guided cannons and golems to the front line.

Lost troops and technological equipment were being replaced at an observable pace, while in the command center, wizards were busy analyzing recently recorded Saint energy data and Apostle-level combat modes, simulating the best strategy for the next assault.

For them, these three days are not for rest but necessary preparation for the next round of more efficient, more lethal strikes.

In contrast, the scene on the alliance side was filled with heroic struggle and hardship.

Immediately, countless exhausted soldiers and civilian auxiliaries charged out of the broken fortifications, not to pursue but to rush toward the corpse-laden battlefield.

They frantically excavated ruins, searching for possibly surviving comrades, retrieving countless shattered remains.

Sobbing, painful moans, and fleeting cheers upon finding survivors intertwined in a heart-wrenching manner.

The Awakened used their abilities to help move stones, doing everything possible to treat the wounded, but resources were scarce, leaving many severely injured helplessly watching their lives slip away.

Surviving soldiers and Awakened powerhouses suppressed their grief, their throats hoarse as they reorganized disbanded squads.

The defense line retracted, abandoning many fragmented areas hard to defend, utilizing this three-day window to rebuild a tighter, more concentrated defense system relying on the second rear defense line and natural terrain.

In stark contrast to the legion’s efficient replenishment was the alliance’s scarcity and struggle, with all resources like arrows, energy crossbows, healing potions, and food being extremely limited.

The energy consumed by the Awakened was difficult to rapidly replenish, and many are heavily injured, their combat effectiveness significantly reduced.

These three days are truly struggling breaths for them.

And those vast Sobbing Blood Plains silently absorb and precipitate endless death during these days.

The stench of corpses grows thicker, attracting more carrion creatures, creating a macabre ecosystem.