As the dust and smoke hanging over the city slowly began to clear, the survivors finally saw it—
an enormous serpent's head, vast as a sun or moon suspended high above the heavens, staring coldly into the city below.
To be precise, it was staring at the city's only surviving Tower of Mage.
The tower's outer walls were covered in layers of flickering protective runes, bright and dim in alternating waves.
That was exactly why it had managed to survive the Wyrmcoil Rage just now.
At that moment, a large number of mage NPCs had gathered at the top of the tower.
And the Codex of Mage sat on the elevated platform right behind them.
"You vile beast, what are you trying to do?!"
At the top of the tower, the current chief professor of Scholars' City slammed his staff heavily against the ground and shouted in fury.
He was an old man, with hair and beard white as snow, his face layered with deep wrinkles.
Clearly, he had lived for an extremely long time.
