Book 2, Chapter 195

Toll(2)

Richard got off his own horse, escorted by a few barbarians as he drew closer to the caravan. It wasn’t easy to cast spells off the bumpy back of a horse. It was at that moment that one of the Red Cossack cavalrymen roared out, following which an entire squadron started charging towards him.

The commander was prepared to cut through the line of barbarians, wanting to kill the young noble in mage robes in one go. With their master lost, these slaves would turn into scattered sand. He had plentiful experience with capturing barbarians, so he was very confident in the might of his troops. Red Cossack caught more than 10,000 barbarians every year from the ancestral plains. These barbarians were sturdy and outstanding warriors, but that did not mean they could compare to trained soldiers. He wanted to show the foolish noble the might of a true army!

The sight of hundreds of cavalrymen charging at full speed was rather terrifying. The bloodlust in the air, the thunderous roar of the hooves hitting the ground… it would be enough to terrify more than half of these barbarian warriors. This heavy infantry may already be in formation, but they wouldn’t be able to help but panic. On the battlefield, breaking formation was a death sentence. As his cavalry grew faster and faster, the commander’s lips had already parted in a bloodthirsty laugh.

Richard had a cold smile on his face as well. His barbarians were genuine soldiers; anyone who thought they were still the same tribalistic savages would have to pay a huge price. This fellow wanted to compete with him in terms of troop quality and command?

Even as the cavalrymen reached their peak speed, the throwers had already tossed out the first wave of hatchets. The whistling axes turned into a shower of death, taking out thirty to forty soldiers in one go. At the same time, Richard quickly took out the Book of Holding. Eighteen direbears suddenly spawned in front of the cavalry’s charge, all lined up in a row. This instant judgement and control was an art unto itself!

Numerous dull thuds rang out. The cavalrymen were going too fast to dodge, crashing into the enormous direbears. While the bears were all knocked down, the knights and their horses were both sent crashing to the ground, bones shattering. The second row quickly reined in their horses, but their comrades rammed into them from behind. Another round of thuds rang out, accentuated by the breaking of bones.

The fierce assault formation of the cavalry was thrown into chaos instantly. However, before they could even recover the throwers continued with the remaining waves of hatchets. Although accuracy was compromised to an extent, that was no problem for a bombardment with no specific target.

360 hatchets flew through the sky, turning into a dark cloud. Once they landed on the incoming cavalry, only a few dazed men were left standing. All eighteen direbears had died in battle, while less than a hundred of the attackers remained.

Although this was not their first time seeing the throwers’ attack together, Gangdor, Olar, the trolls, the barbarians, and even Richard himself were stunned with disbelief.

However, Richard quickly recovered from his stupor, “Barbarians! Line formation! FORWARD!”

The voices of the barbarians rang out in a united battle cry as they raised their shields, forming tight rows that took large strides towards the cavalrymen that still remained.

Only a dozen of the Red Cossack troops had the courage to maintain morale in this terrible situation, growling as they charged towards the barbarians. However, what met them was a steel-like barrier. The front row of the barbarians raised their shields and pressed on, while their brethren just behind placed their shields to guard their backs. They were all glimmering with light, being empowered by the elven warsong.

*BOOM!*

The violent, forceful collision ended in the barbarians’ victory. The wall of shields knocked the cavalrymen backwards, and they quickly moved the shields aside to brandish their axes. The row of axes glinted as they struck in unison to draw blood.

Seeing his barbarian warriors defeating the attacking cavalry troops face-to-face in an instant, Richard was very pleased.

However, at that very moment, a powerful sense of danger surged in his mind. Before he could even detect the source of the problem, he saw a faint grey light shining on his body. The moment it touched him the chill of death pierced into his soul. He trembled, the minds connected to his vibrating as they struck back to disperse this will.

A pale gold flame immediately fell on his body, breaking up the deathly will. This was Flowsand’s divine spell, Death Guard, able to resist any magic that could cause instant death. Even though it wasn’t a powerful defence, it did serve its purpose. The target could only suffer grave injuries at worst.

Flowsand had been unimaginably fast in casting this spell. Her divine flames were burning on Richard practically the same instant the grey light shone on him. However, even so Richard turned pale, snorting two lines of blood from his nose.

It was not easy to counteract a grade 7 death spell. Even if the instant death was disrupted, even with the many souls linked to his resisting it, Richard was still heavily injured.

Yet another brush with death! And this time, it was his soul!

A very complicated emotion arose in Richard’s heart, a mix of fear and rage. His short hair began to float in the wind as he locked onto the great mage amongst the supply carriages, seeing the remnants of a scroll burning in the man’s hands!

“Flowsand!” Richard yelled fervently.

There was no need for anything more. Flowsand immediately cast a divine spell on him to produce a magic barrier. They had grown so used to each other that they did not require words to communicate. She retreated the moment she cast the spell, putting some distance between herself and Richard. This time, she did not try to cast Outburst.

Richard’s mind was completely focused on the opposing great mage, an inferno raging within his eyes like a volcano about to erupt. He gritted his teeth, squeezing out incantations at an unthinkable speed paired with hurried yet precise gestures. It took less than a second for a fireball to form in his hands!

Fireball after fireball whistled forth, forming a straight line between Richard and the opposing great mage. The opponent’s magic barrier started flickering once the first few had landed, changing his expression. “How is this possible?!” the man yelled out. A mere three fireballs had left his grade 6 defensive spell on the brink of destruction! It could normally defend against six to seven fireballs in succession!

His life endangered, the great mage burst forth with everything he had. Despite the disturbance of the fire he successfully completed the chant for another magic barrier. However, the shield’s lustre only stabilised for three seconds before it dissipated under incessant attacks.

The great mage was hard pressed to reply, his forehead beading with sweat. All he could see was fireball after fireball in a seemingly endless line. His mind had already been stunted by fear and shock, and he could only shout as he instantly cast a weaker barrier spell. However, even as it flickered into existence that spell was completely shattered as well.

The magical flames licked at the great mage’s skin, leaving him in immense pain. He fell into despair, going as far as to mock himself, “I’ve fallen under an illusion!”

He was far too busy at that point to realise that people grew happy on the verge of insanity. His other mistake was not realising that all of Richard’s fireballs had been enhanced with magic penetration, naturally being more painful than those of someone else.

By the time the eleventh fireball had exploded, the supply carriage had been reduced to a pile of black ash and charcoal without any hints as to its previous form. The great mage had disappeared as well, but two more fireballs still ravaged the earth that had already been melted by the waves of fire, completely wiping out all vestiges of anything that had once existed on the ground.

Richard was not perverted enough to torture corpses, but he’d had no idea when he would be able to destroy the great mage’s defences. The fireballs had been launched far too quickly, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from wasting a few more.

However, the sound of a dozen explosions focused on one point had basically covered everything else on the battlefield. Most of the soldiers on either side had stopped fighting, looking at the place where the great mage’s carriage had once been with stunned faces.

In a mere eleven seconds, thirteen fireballs had turned a level 13 mage to nothingness.

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OMA's Thoughts

Translated By: Ying

Edited By: Theo

TLC'ed By: OMA