Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

"Boss, it's the ridge!" a report came in, in the form of a runner catching up with Layn's detachment. 

After burning the carriage down and sending the signal to everyone with the smoke, Layn's entire army dispersed into eighty different groups, each five people strong. 

Layn ran with Irea, Markus, Yelna, and Al, turning their group into the central cell of the formation. Yet, instead of sticking to the middle, they were located in the fourth row from the front, close enough to get reports relatively quickly, yet far enough not to be embroiled if the fighting were to erupt.

"Any sightings of the Slavians?" Layn asked, shouting over the distance that the runner maintained. Given how he would be soon tasked with returning to his cell ahead, he didn't waste his energy reaching anywhere closer than necessary for his voice to reach the commanding cell. 

"The front cell has yet to cross the ridge, I don't know, boss!" the man replied before raising his hand to his head in a salute and veering off to the side. 

"So the shit is about to go down," Markus muttered, stretching the fingers of both of his hands. 

Despite his bear-like psychique, his way of handling his unusual weapons made it necessary for him to keep his hands as agile as possible. 

Given how they were now reaching the central point of their plans, they had no other choice but to take a position there. 

Whether the enemy managed to reach the place before them or not, they would have to find it on their own. 

"Okay, guys, time for slacking is over," Layn shouted, making sure that everyone in his group would hear him. 

"Irea, are you ready?" Layn asked, turning his head towards the girl.

Ever since the archmage's plan took its final form, Layn didn't use even the tiniest bit of his mana. He surely had the greatest quantity of it in the entire group... but that was also the very reason why he couldn't spare even a bit of it. 

Ultimately, they didn't know what to expect from the cultivators or how Generian called them celestials. 

While Slavians were a known enemy, one whose power and capabilities Layn could predict to a degree, the top ranks of the cultivators were a big unknown for him. 

"On your mark," Irea replied with a faint smile. 

Ever since they returned from the mission where she nearly lost her life, Layn started to rely on her a lot more. And from the sparks of satisfaction in her eyes, she clearly enjoyed the change. 

"Okay, boys, let's do it! Irea, now!" Layn shouted, leaning forward as he increased the pace of his speed. 

Up until now, everyone managed the pace that wouldn't burden the weakest members of their entire formation. 

Irea raised her hand, forming a simple fireball above her palm. After a second of channeling her mana and constructing different layers of the spell, she released the control over the raging ball of mana. 

The fireball ascended to the skies.

BOOM!

It exploded in a myriad of colors, quickly painting the entire sky in green. 

This was the only reason why Irea spent so much time constructing the framework of the spell. Making the explosion look green instead of red.

It was the signal Layn was waiting for. With the skies lit up in the second beacon, he pushed his body to his limits, rushing ahead. 

Even though he couldn't see it, most of his people stopped for a moment. They looked up to the skies. Their eyes started to burn with excitement. 

And then, everyone rushed ahead. 

Layn quickly reached the absolute limit of how fast he could run. Without using magic to break through this natural barrier of the human body, he couldn't move even a single bit faster. 

Compared to him, Markus and Al, not to speak about Yelna, managed to exceed his speed. In the end, they were more focused on the physical build of their power rather than the magical one like the archmage. Out of the three of them, Markus was the slowest, filling the gap between Al and Yelna duo and Layn himself. 

Out of the entire group, Irea was the slowest. But right now, it wasn't a race about who would reach the ridge the fastest. It was a race who would get to the ridge first, them or the slavians!

The distance quickly shrank as everyone rushed ahead. With Irea's beacon serving as an orientation point, all eighty of the five-man cells started to converge on a single coordinate, forming a stretched-out line. 

Yelna ended up reaching the top of the ridge first. She jumped above the highest point, instantly going into the slide on its other side. Al followed closely after, although he couldn't slide down the other side of the ridge as fast as the nimble girl. 

A moment later, Layn reached the top as well. For a second, he jumped, using the moment where his body was airborne to assess the situation. 

The Slavians were already there. While the bulk of their forces was still quite a bit away from this vantage point, their front guard had already reached halfway up to the top. 

"I'm going in first!" Yelna shouted, pulling out her daggers. Her eyes lit up as the intense aura of bloodlust exploded all around her. 

"KILL THEM ALL!" Layn shouted, digging his feet into the ground and stopping his rush. 

Now that he had reached the top of the ridge, there was no need for him to go any further. 

The small detachment of roughly a hundred Slavians wasn't a challenge that Yelna alone couldn't handle. What's more, both Al and Markus rushed ahead after her, eager to join in on the fun. 

"Layn!" Irea reached the top of the ridge, stopping right beside's her man. 

"Send the signal," Layn ordered, his eyes fixated on the position of the Slavians. Yet, just as Yelna was about to smash right through their frontlines, he turned himself around, sending a glance towards the way they came from. 

And surely enough, far of in the distance, a cloud of dust announced the arrival of the army of cultivators. 

'We need to slow down Slavian's approach,' Layn thought. His entire plan relied on starting the fight on both fronts at exactly the same time. 'I guess it's time for me to join in the fun as well,' he thought.

He hoped to reserve as much energy as he could for the fight with the top of the brass of the celestials. But the current situation didn't allow for him to exercise any further restraint.

"I'm done!" Irea shouted as soon as another fireball shot out from her hand. This time, it exploded in yellow, announcing the situation to all the troops that had yet to reach the top of the ridge. 

"Good," Layn muttered, clasping his hands and constructing a military-grade blast cannon spell around them. 

His fingers were all straight, with the exception of both of his middle fingers, both of which were slightly bent backward, their tips still touching. And it was right in front of this point of contact that a tiny ball of condensed energy formed.

'If I want them to hurry up, I need to make them think that they need to close the distance themselves,' the archmage thought, a smile appearing on his face. 

A set of seven rings appeared on his hands, three of them behind the ball of energy, four of them ahead of it. 

And then, Layn pushed his middle fingers forward, clasping them together. 

The tiny ball of mana, pushed by the movement of his fingers, accelerated whenever crossing a ring around Layn's hands. Once it broke free from the four advanced rings, it was suddenly pulled back, right into Layn's hand, where another bout of free mana latched into it. 

Then, the three backward rings around his hands broke, slingshotting the ball forward!