Sorcery Monarch

Chapter 40: A Crushing Blow!

 

Yaya, with her exceptional perception and stealth skills, had eagerly embraced her father's lessons on ambush tactics and was thrilled to put them into practice.

 

Alta wasn't her first target, nor would he be her last.

 

Eight notifications flashed in Matthew’s mind, attesting to Yaya's success.

 

"Tsk tsk, Yaya's movements are incredibly swift. She's a natural-born fighter. Once she grows larger, her combat abilities will be even more formidable..."

 

"Three Level 2 rogues, three Level 2 barbarian sentries, and two Level 3 rogues provided me with a total of 180 experience points."

 

"Current total experience: 1600. Still need 400 more to level up..."

 

"They’re now just 300 meters away—it's time!"

 

Matthew’s eyes glinted as he sent Yaya the signal to retreat, watching the swaying reeds and shrubs ahead.

 

He nodded lightly to Angela and pulled out the final spell scroll from the Ser family.

 

Fifth-tier spell—Mass Haste!

 

It granted all allies within 50 meters a 40% boost to movement speed and a 20% increase in attack speed for three minutes!

 

An indescribable lightness enveloped each soldier.

 

They surged forward like arrows loosed from bows, moving swiftly across the terrain.

 

Despite their speed, the soldiers maintained their formation, as they had practiced countless times.

 

The towering reeds obscured their vision.

 

Clark, the squad leader, nervously touched the hilt of his sword and frowned, turning to his uneasy comrades and asking his men:

 

"Why haven’t the sentries responded? How close are they? Should we fall back?"

 

Confidently shaking his head, bare-chested and hefting a spiked flail, Carman sneered.

 

"Haha, don't worry. Bay Village's hunters? They’re too afraid to even enter the Dark Forest—how could they pose any threat to Alta and the others?"

 

"I bet that little lord of theirs just brought his baby soldiers to scope things out."

 

Stroking the cloth-wrapped handle of his flail, Carman smirked, resting the spiked head on the ground. He pointed toward Bay Village:

 

"That coward won’t dare attack. He doesn’t know we’ve got a big surprise waiting for him!"

 

"When he runs, I'll be the one to catch him. Spellcasters are always loaded..."

 

The other members of the slaver gang laughed along, boasting:

 

"Carman’s right. Alta’s probably already scouted the village and picked out the best targets. Heh heh heh..."

 

"Exactly! They always grab the best loot first. By the time it’s our turn, we’re left with the scraps..."

 

"True, I’d like to be a sentry next time."

 

"Tch, what kind of riches can a small village offer? We’d be better off in the Dark Forest..."

 

"Shut up! Stop mentioning targets during a mission! Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

 

Clark cut off the chatter, glaring at a Level 4 rogue who had voiced his desire to be a sentry. He ordered coldly:

 

"Since you’re so eager to be a sentry, go find Alta and tell him to report back quickly! We need to know where the enemy is!"

 

The scolded rogue shrugged nonchalantly, acting unaffected by the reprimand.

 

He was about to disappear into the underbrush when he suddenly froze in place, trembling.

 

With a thud, he collapsed!

 

An arrow quivered in his skull, its feathers still trembling, while his wide, terrified eyes stared blankly ahead.

 

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

 

The sharp whistling of arrows filled the air, and the unprepared slaver group erupted in pained cries.

 

Clark, furious, swung his sword to deflect an incoming arrow and rolled to the side, shouting:

 

"Spread out! Prepare for engagement!"

 

Before he could even stand up, he caught a glimpse of a horrifying scene out of the corner of his eye:

 

Carman, towering and powerful, stood frozen amidst the barrage of arrows, completely oblivious to the danger surrounding him.

 

It was as if every arrow magically avoided his position.

 

"Is Carman a traitor?"

 

"No, that’s impossible! That scumbag is rotten to the core. He has nowhere else to go but the slaver group..."

 

"Could it be... mind control magic?"

 

Clark didn’t want to admit it, but even someone as resistant to magic as Carman had fallen silently under a spell.

 

If Carman could be targeted, Clark realized he himself wasn’t safe either.

 

Before Clark could react, a volley of more than a dozen blue magic missiles screamed through the air.

 

Clark quickly deduced that all of the missiles were aimed at the motionless Carman!

 

It was clearly the first-tier spell—Magic Missile!

 

Clark had only ever seen a mid-tier mage cast three missiles at once. But the sight of over a dozen missiles in succession was terrifying.

 

No one in the slaver group dared step in to shield Carman; instead, they hastily scattered in all directions!

 

Thwack!

 

Over a dozen bloody holes appeared on Carman’s body, and the spray of blood drenched the area in red.

 

Fortunately, he felt no pain. Half of his head was gone, and he died without a sound, likely still trapped in some absurd dream.

 

Fear gripped Clark's heart, his selfish instincts taking over.

 

Without hesitation, he turned and fled, his swift movements far outpacing his comrades.

 

As he dashed in panic, Clark saw a terrifying but fortunate sight just before he dove into the reeds:

 

The soldiers, marching in perfect step, burst through the towering reeds with unstoppable force, slamming into his panicked comrades.

 

A few warriors, unable to evade in time, roared in defiance as they launched desperate counterattacks.

 

If they were going to die, they would take some down with them!

 

But their finely crafted weapons only left insignificant scratches on the soldiers' shields.

 

The seasoned Clark quickly realized that the soldiers in the front line were also professional warriors.

 

Twenty shield-bearers in perfect formation!

 

Terrifying!

 

Before the desperate warriors could change their tactics, a row of spears jabbed out from behind the shields like a snake’s bite.

 

Thud!

 

The struggling warriors were impaled, their bodies left dangling like salted fish before being tossed aside like garbage.

 

Only one warrior, the strongest at Level 4, managed to break through three spears.

 

But before he could regain his footing, the oncoming shield smashed into him, throwing him off balance, and the deadly spears struck again!

 

He was doomed!

 

Clark burned the image of these "light-footed" soldiers and their deadly, synchronized shield wall into his mind.

 

He abandoned all thoughts of his comrades and dove into the thickets.

 

He had to inform Carman—this was no ordinary opponent!

 

The shrieks of pain and despair rang out behind him, only to be quickly silenced.