Sorcery Monarch

Chapter 44: Making Enemies

 

"Ding, your Weakening Spell caused 2+7 points of strength reduction to the target, leaving Bloodhand Kahn with 9 strength points."

 

"Ding, your Fireball Spell dealt 8+7 damage to Bloodhand Kahn, with 4 points of damage mitigated by magic resistance, dealing a total of 11 damage."

 

"Bloodhand Kahn's remaining health is 4, and he is now in a severely wounded state."

 

Matthew couldn't help but enjoy dealing with warriors like Bloodhand Kahn who recklessly charged straight ahead.

 

Almost every practical spellcaster guide listed a bunch of spells specifically designed to counter and prevent clumsy warriors from getting close.

 

Then, using spells like Weakening Spell, these types of spells could diminish their strength and speed, quickly followed by an assault of damage-dealing spells.

 

At that point, the opponent would either be dead or crippled!

 

"Helping Leon change his fate could earn me a Fate Coin."

 

"Killing Bloodhand Kahn in advance also changes his fate in a way, so I should get a 'reward,' right?"

 

Just as Matthew was about to raise his hand for the finishing blow, ready to add to his dwindling stash of Fate Coins,

 

A blue light suddenly flashed across Bloodhand Kahn's chest, and his charred, hulking body abruptly vanished.

 

"Teleportation Spell!!"

 

Matthew's pupils contracted slightly as he stopped casting his spell and instinctively checked his status panel, noting that his Luck Value was "-1," effectively eliminating any danger.

 

As thoughts raced through Matthew's mind about what had happened to Bloodhand Kahn,

 

He realized this was likely an automated Teleportation Spell set by at least a high-level spellcaster on Bloodhand Kahn or his equipment.

 

As long as Bloodhand Kahn wasn't killed instantly and there wasn't a Dimensional Anchor spell to restrict space magic, he would be teleported to a predetermined location.

 

The cost of such an effect was quite expensive.

 

Maintaining a constant Teleportation Spell was just as difficult as crafting high-quality magical equipment.

 

The materials alone cost 5,000 gold coins per activation!

 

And there was a significant failure rate—even an enchanter only had a one-third chance of success.

 

More importantly, this was a consumable item that had to be recharged after each use.

 

Bloodhand Kahn, as a mid-tier warrior, didn't have the money or the means to employ such techniques.

 

The only possible explanation was that the Pfizer Merchant Guild was behind this!

 

But the problem was, even with Bloodhand Kahn as a mid-tier warrior, his life wasn't worth the effort and expense for Pfizer to go to such lengths...

 

"Could it be that the Pfizer Merchant Guild knows about Bloodhand Kahn's future achievements and potential?"

 

"No, if they were that powerful, after all these years of business, they would've already taken control of Big Apple City..."

 

"The only possibility is that the Pfizer Merchant Guild did something to Bloodhand Kahn..."

 

"Could it be..."

 

Matthew pondered for a while and decided to temporarily put this doubt aside, rubbing his temples in slight frustration.

 

"I've made an enemy of the Pfizer Merchant Guild now; I need to prepare for this sooner rather than later..."

 

"Fortunately, I'm now a member of the Ser Family."

 

"If I were just an ordinary village lord, even if I were in the right, I'd be subjected to open suppression and attacks."

 

"But the people in Big Apple City love playing dirty tricks, so I’ll probably face plenty of covert attacks in the future..."

 

As Matthew mused, the soldiers in the morale-boosting formation shouted for victory as they clashed with the disoriented slaver professionals.

 

The uncoordinated slaver group members were clearly no match for the well-coordinated soldiers.

 

Their attacks were consistently blocked by shield-bearing soldiers, and when faced with the organized and swift spear thrusts, they could only retreat.

 

Several professionals, unable to dodge in time, were stabbed in the thigh or chest, quickly collapsing with screams of agony.

 

This situation further terrified the remaining professionals, who dared not hold the front line and kept retreating.

 

Occasionally, a few stronger professionals would try to band together and fight collectively.

 

But the continuous, cunning, and precise rain of arrows would cover their positions.

 

Once separated, their agile combat skills and evasive maneuvers were no match for the soldiers' orderly spear thrusts, and they were quickly picked off one by one.

 

The nimble rovers were the primary targets.

 

Lacking the strength to deflect arrows like the warriors, when faced with multiple arrows, they struggled and were promptly struck down.

 

Once injured or slowed, the lethal arrows would end their lives.

 

Within the first engagement, over fifty professionals had already lost seven or eight members, with another ten severely wounded.

 

The overwhelming combat power of the soldiers shattered their last hopes, and they howled in panic as they fled.

 

On the verge of another victory, Angela wasn't satisfied. She vigilantly watched the professionals attempting to flee from the flanks, shouting commands:

 

"Field, chase them down."

 

"Old John, pursue the rovers on the left."

 

Neither of them recklessly charged ahead; instead, they led their formations to force the enemy to retreat further.

 

The frontline melee professionals were now locked in combat with the soldiers.

 

With the shield and spear phalanx advancing and the archers providing covering fire, they ultimately couldn't break through the shield defense as Bloodhand Kahn had envisioned.

 

The slaver members, who screamed madly and tried to drag the soldiers down with them, were trapped in an endless cycle of injury, bleeding, and death, their numbers steadily dwindling.

 

Until the last warrior, who attempted to surrender, was pierced through the throat by Leon's sword, and the battlefield once again fell silent.

 

But this time, the air was filled with the faint chatter of kobolds.

 

Matthew raised his hand and caught Yaya, feeling her weight of around 40 pounds.

 

Matthew had a feeling that the day when he could no longer lift Yaya was not far off.

 

After the unexpected event of Bloodhand Kahn's teleportation, Matthew refrained from taking further action.

 

After all, it could expose his own intelligence.

 

As the territory developed and interacted with more outside forces, it was bound to affect the existing market and "pie."

 

Clashing with other forces was only a matter of time, and this incident had merely expedited the process.

 

"Chase them down, kill them all, leave no survivors—scum like this don't deserve to live!"

 

The intense killing intent was conveyed to every soldier and professional.

 

Led by Old Village Chief Field, the rangers and hunters, who were familiar with the area, quickly caught up to the fleeing enemies with the soldiers.

 

Relying on their superior numbers and momentum, they successfully dragged out and eliminated every last one of them!

 

Some slaver members tried to surrender, but not a single soldier showed mercy.

 

None of them wanted these inhuman enemies to remain in their lands.

 

Whether for themselves, their lord, or their loved ones, killing them was a necessity!