Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

"Are you okay?" Irea asked, looking at Layn with worry. "You know, I don't think they will try to blame you for what you did," she added, grasping her partner's hand in an attempt to cheer him up. 

"You don't know them as well as I do," Layn replied, happily accepting the invitation of the girl's hand. His eyes were glued to the now visible cloud of smoke produced by a large group heading their way. 

And now, there was no mistaking it. With the distance now close enough for him to see the outline of the entire group, Layn was more than sure that the two people leading it were the two companions of his from an entirely different timeline. 

"What does it matter?" Irea asked, leaning her head over her shoulder. "I don't think they are bad people. You didn't include them in your gran arcana intentionally. Rather than that, from what they told me, they are the ones that involved themselves in the matter of their own volition," she added as she shook her shoulders. "All in all, if they want to blame anyone, they only can blame themselves," Irea said, tightening her hold over Layn's hand. 

"You see, the reality is not as simple as we often want it to be," Layn countered, still unable to get over the anxiety filling his brain. 

"You know, I really wish I could just kidnap you for a moment. I think a good fuck could cure your anxiety," Irea said playfully, pushing herself to Layn's side. "I know it's a simple solution, but it's a solution nevertheless," she added, hiding her head in Layn's chest. 

"I really regret all the time I spent living without you," Layn admitted, moving his arm to coil it around the girl and hug her closely. "But I will have to spare you the trouble this time," he added, turning his head towards the group in the distance. "It would kill my pride as a man if I ever admitted I could get it over within the little time we have left before they will arrive," he added, turning the entire situation into a small, situational joke. 

"Heh," Irea chuckled but didn't elaborate any further. 

For the next few moments, the two of them simply stood at the border of the camp, waiting for the other group to reach the place. Behind them, every single mercenary left stood in line, ready to receive their guests. 

"Are you guys done flirting?" Al asked as soon as he approached the pair. He then swung his head towards the distance, unable to stop a smile from appearing on his lips. "It seems that they brought some of my people as well," he added. But this small smirk disappeared from his face in the very next moment. "Huh?" he moaned in surprise, turning his head around. 

"Something wrong?" Layn asked, noticing the peculiar behavior of the man. But even when he followed the sight of the man, he couldn't see anything but the endless expanse of grass in the direction his legendary ancestor was looking. 

"Not really," Al replied. "I guess it was just a stray feeling," he said.

'That didn't sound convincing at all,' Layn thought, although he ultimately decided not to voice this belief of his. 

Then, the archmage twitched. 

'What was that?' he asked himself, unable to figure out what this strange feeling was. 

But that feeling didn't last long. Before the long-awaited guest would have a chance to finally reach the camp and reunite with their old friend, Layn, Al and Irea all turned their heads in the same direction. 

Only to notice a lone rider pushing its horse to its limits to reach its place as soon as possible. 

"LAYN!" the winds carried the voice of the rider. As it got closer, Layn recognized the rider's face. 

"Sitra?" he muttered under his nose, unable to believe in the random chance that would make all his acquaintances reunite with him at the same time. "What is she doing here?" he asked out loud, confused to no end. 

Layn's expression quickly sank from happy and anxious to anxious and determined. 

'She doesn't look like someone who just brought a report,' the archmage thought. A strange yet familiar feeling dwelled deep within his soul, pushing him into making a step forward. Then another one. 

And soon, Layn was running towards the girl, disregarding the calls of his old friends that he could already hear from the direction opposite to his chase. 

"LAYN!" Sitra shouted, quickly reaching the perimeter of the camp. 

Layn stopped in his tracks. Now that the girl was close enough, he could see the state she was in. 

And it wasn't good. 

Her forehead was dirty from all the sweat and blood that mixed on it. From how she held herself by her side, it was clear that she was injured. Even her horse was in a sorry state with all kinds of scratches and wounds marking its sides. 

"Layn!" Sitra shouted once again as she jumped from the horse only to fall to the ground, tumble for a little bit and then fall face-first on the grass. 

"What's going on?" Layn rushed ahead, grabbing the girl's shoulders and raising her up. Even with this little touch, he could feel how weak she was.

"They are coming," she whispered weakly, barely capable of holding on to her consciousness. "Castor attempted to stop them, so they killed him. They even angered some kind of being on their way here!" she added before choking on the blood in her throat that she then proceeded to cough up. 

"Layn!" A shout came from behind. Before the archmage could even turn his head around, Markus fell to his knees right beside him, looking at the girl with a weird look on his face. 

"I wish we could have time to reunite properly," the archmage started before raising his head and looking in the distance, in the direction opposite to where Markus came from, "but it looks like we don't have time for pleasantries," he added, rising to his feet.

As Layn turned around, he finally could see just what kind of people Markus brought with him. 

"Yelna..."  Layn said in a tense tone, clearly capable of feeling the distant echo of hostility in the woman.

"Layn..." the girl replied in the same fashion, perfectly capable of jumping into a fight at any given notice. 

"Stop it, you two," Markus quickly stood up and put himself between the two. "This is not the time to talk about the past quarrels," he said. His eyes roamed between the injured Sitra on the ground and Layn's face. "Can you tell us what's going on?" Markus asked, looking at the archmage with all seriousness. 

"Do you remember the legends of the Slavians?" Layn asked, unwilling to move his eyes an inch away from the direction Sitra came from. 

"Yeah, what about them?" Markus asked, puzzled by the sudden topic that Layn dropped. Then, his face blanked out. "Don't tell me..." 

"Yeah," Layn said, cutting straight to the chase. "They are coming," he said, offering Sitra a hand to help her stand up. "And it looks like they are not as benevolent as our legends recorder," he added before taking a step towards where Sitra claimed the danger was coming from. 

"I thought that after all the fights and troubles in the Warcamp, we would get a little breathing room," Markus said, twisting his lips into an unpleasant grin, "but it seems like it won't be the case," he added, standing up and following after Layn. 

In the end, the entire group stood in place, roughly a hundred steps away from the border of the camp. They were all prepared to jump straight into the action. The only problem was... 

No one seemed to be coming their way. 

For a long while, Layn simply stared in the distance, ready to intercept any attack that could come their way... But nothing was attacking them at all. 

"Sitra..." Layn said in a low voice, turning his face towards the injured girl. 

"I promise, they are coming," she said, trembling under the intense stare of the archmage. "I saw them kill Castor with my very own eyes!" She shouted as tears appeared in her eyes, invoked by the unpleasant and terrifyingly sad memory. 

"Who are they?" Layn asked, not sure what to think about the entire situation. But just as Sitra opened her mouth to respond, Layn's body twitched again. 

This time, he didn't bother trying to figure out what it meant. Because in the current situation, the answer was pretty obvious. 

"They are coming," this time, it was Yelna to say those words. She held her knives in her hands, proving that she could already perceive the killing intent of the still invisible party. 

"They are close," Layn said suddenly when he managed to feel the approaching group up. Then, a devastating idea came to his mind.

"They are invisible," Layn said while clenching his teeth. Not waiting for anyone's reaction to his words, he raised his hands as he started to chant one of the many spells he had at his disposal.

Dark clouds appeared out of nowhere above them. At the same time, Layn's skin started to rupture, almost instantly covering him in blood. But rather than dirtying his look, his blood would instantly evaporate, speeding up the process of the formation of the storm clouds above them. 

And then, fat, oily drops started to pour from the skies, finally revealing a massive army of monsters heading their way!