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On the southern portion of the Bastion walls, a different battle was happening. Very few players were attacking the walls in this position.

Instead, the hundreds of players below seemed to fight with each other. The reason for this was the woman standing atop the wall.

Sporting a grin on her face, her hands outstretched in front of herself, Morticia was currently burning through her mana reserves at a sped-up pace. Holding this many players in her mental grasp was no small feat.

She knew she wouldn\'t be able to keep this up for very long, but reducing the numbers as much as she could was her job. The role assigned to her was that of a mobile disruptor.

A tank was already down on the ground, ready to bat away stray players, and one of the core members of Paragon, Gale, accompanied him.

The boy was swaying from left to right, getting impatient for battle. His role was also a mobile one, since he was one of the quickest players in the guild.

Once the number of players in this region would be down to a manageable number for one tank and ranged support, he would have to move to the next zone in a clockwise motion.

Morticia could maintain her chaos-inducing spell for about three minutes, before her mana was drained and she had to leave. As soon as she did, many of the players fighting shook their heads and turned to face the scapegoats on whom they would take revenge.

Gale, as small as he was, grinned like a madman, sending his arms to his side in a brusk fashion, forming wind blades on them. The tank next to him recognized him as a caster, and was about to step forward to cover him, when Gale took off.

Blasted off would be the more correct term here, as Gale launched off like a bullet out of a gun. Wind pushing out of his feet, he skated above the ground by an inch, reducing his friction to nil.

Seeing him blast off into the enemies, the tank paled. Wasn\'t it his job to cover for a caster?

But when he saw how quickly this boy took out every player he passed near, he swallowed nervously. He rapidly understood why the boy was with him.

It was with bittersweet comprehension that he faced the stray enemies.

\'So I\'m the extra. Not him,\' the man thought.

His ego was bruised slightly, but he understood his role in this battle, and it was not the time to wallow in despair. After about five minutes of zooming through enemy troops, Gale dashed back to the wall.

He was panting heavily, with his mana reserves almost empty. He knew he would have enough to cross over the wall, but nothing more.

He warned the tank player of his departure and flew upward. As soon as Gale was gone, arrows rained from the skies, giving the tank much-needed support.

On the western front of this siege, a hellscape could be seen. It was easy to figure out who was protecting this side, when one looked at the devastation.

The fields that used to be present here, had been used as fuel for Phoenix\'s destructive magic. She spared no effort, burning everything she could to force the players to stay back.

The ones that tried to be braver, and cross the flames, were rapidly dispatched by blue lances of fire. The natural disaster Phoenix created would not burn naturally for long, but while it did, it allowed her to save up mana.

All of which she used to compress her flames into Aether. She noticed the process was suddenly a lot easier than before and welcomed this new development.

When the flames finished eating up the fields, and the fire started dying out, Phoenix knew it was time to act. She compressed one last gout of flames into a ball of white energy and slammed it into her chest.

Her body caught on fire, starting red, before going orange, and then blue. Her hair flared upward, as her eyes became slits of pitch black.

Phoenix felt her body float up, and she revelled in the feeling of power her form brought her. She could tell her fire was burning hotter than usual, as the stone under her was already melting on the top.

She rapidly descended into the fields, not wanting to damage their last line of defence. Phoenix hovered a few feet above the ground, and even then, she could see it turn to magma under her.

Players were already charging her, and they started taking damage before even making it to her. Phoenix was projecting heat around her, so hot, that it created a DOT area.

The first person to reach her, did so by ignoring the pain of his searing flesh. His overconfidence in thinking he could kill the caster rapidly, cost him his life.

When he reached two feet from the flaming woman, she swung her arm at him, a whip of flames lashing out. The whip contacted the player and instantly turned him to cinders.

Gasps of shock and terror spread out amongst the players. Phoenix had just killed a melee fighter in a single attack.

One that was built like a bruiser, at that. If that wasn\'t dissuasion enough to attack her in close range, then nothing would ever be.

The melee players were already stepping back, suddenly getting cold feet, despite the scorching heat. Ranged attacks started raining on Phoenix, with most projectiles disintegrating before reaching her.

Only magic attacks, and magic-covered projectiles made it to the flaming woman, before doing minimal damage.

Phoenix estimated she had about ten minutes in this form, and decided to make the most out of it. She tried smirking at her enemies, but her lack of mouth made it creepy, as only her eyes conveyed the emotion.

The players facing her suddenly felt chills run down their spins.

\'She a devil!\' they all thought.

"Let the hunt begin," the mouthless woman said.