The city of Bribando was lit up, and the specks of light from the stone buildings made the city
look like a small town above the earth. The gray dwarves did not hate light as the dark elves
did, and when they wanted to see color, they lit the lamplight.
Another theory, however, is that the lights were deliberately lit by the Grey dwarves to
distinguish themselves from the dark Elves. In this way, the underworld travelers converged
on the city like moths to a flame. At this time the Grey Dwarves were promoting their wares,
or "entertaining" the wealthy caravans in their own way.
The light does, however, represent Bribando's status as a trading city, at least in terms of arms
and minerals, not inferior to that of Prudence. The city was visited by dark elves from time to
time, especially when they were shopping for the finest goods.
It was the Drow from the city of Prudence that Vincent was waiting for. The dark elves had
just been caught by his eyes. They were armed to the teeth, but their weapons were covered
with cloaks. From the way these dark elves move, there's no doubt that the Red Mushroom
Hotel is their target.
As long as Vincent is on his guard, the chances of him being ambushed are close to zero.
Neither stealth nor invisibility escapes the discerning eye, and it is an ability all mages crave.
For now, however, only Vincent's mentor, Castle, and Vincent, who had the eyes, knew how
to gain this ability. The Mages' Association had been demanding that both men reveal their
secrets, even offering a very generous reward, but neither had said a word. For the mere
ability to think in his sleep, Vincent had given up the right to dream all his life; An eye of
insight, which is far more powerful, naturally comes at a great price.
At least, no current archmage can pay such a price.
Vincent has applied the simplest form of mirror art to himself, and his position is immediately
obscured by constantly changing virtual images, each of which is as indistinctly authentic as
Vincent himself. Then Vincent said, "Come out, there is no point in hiding."
With the empty streets, Vincent's quiet voice can be heard.
Not a single drow answered him. This group of assassins would never move at the pace of
the enemy. They had already made plans to attack Vincent and his men together. Now, of
course, there was no need to show up just because the Master had said something.
Vincent sighed and felt that there was definitely something wrong with the intelligence of
these killers. They let a mage not take the initiative to attack even though he had a head start.
In this case, it was natural for him to accept the kindness of these people.
"Since you will not come out there, I will do it." Vincent said with a smile. With that, his figure
suddenly disappeared into the air.
The crowd, who were discussing in the room, suddenly heard a deafening explosion, and the
flash of fire was clearly visible in the city of the Grey Dwarves. A silver flash of lightning shot
up from a short distance, with a crackling explosion that lit up all eyes like a firework.
'No! It must be Vincent! ' For this kind of lightning, Hardy has seen it many times. He picked
up the last map on the table and ran out the door.
In a few moments there were few people left in the room. Young Sokka tries to fly out of the
window, but Shelley stops him.
"Sister Shelley, let me have a look!" Sokka said, "I can treat someone."
"No, you're not helping." Shelley pushed Sokka into a chair. "Vincent decided to go alone. He
had the confidence to win. He didn't need us."
"Sokka, don't you know how powerful that mage is?" Shelley patted the little angel on the
head.
Vincent did not betray Shelley's trust. He had already dealt with the two attackers. Although
two priests have been trying to suppress Vincent's magic, how can the mage let them succeed?
The priest of the Spider Goddess plans to use "disenchantment" to neutralize all the mage's
attacks, but in the course of this magic confrontation, Vincent, who is backed by the original
power of magic, clearly has the absolute upper hand.
Even though he has been removed from invisibility, the mage is still smiling. His lightning was
subdued as he flew through the air, but the constant replenishment of energy kept him going.
The moment the first priest was swallowed by the electricity, Vincent saw a look of surprise in
her eyes.
But the other priest, Vincent did not attack. The sacrifice of the Dark elves was the absolute
core of their ranks, and if all the leaders were destroyed, they would inevitably choose to
retreat first and then take endless revenge. Keeping a sacrifice, while somewhat hindering the
ability to cast spells, is necessary to wipe out the raiders.
The dark elves would do anything to protect their sacrifices, and the women had already
taught the male warriors this with whips and torture. And these prideful priests, too, do not
easily admit defeat -- especially when their adversary is only a human, only a male.
Vincent is taking advantage of this. Since he knows exactly where all his enemies are and can
keep track of their current movements, the mage uses simple obstacles to avoid incoming
bolts. When the priest tried to burn him with the Holy Fire, a bolt of lightning would always
arrive just in time to interrupt his spell.
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The biggest advantage mages have over priests is the kind of spells they have. After a long
study, the arcane of a mage is more practical than the magic given by God, and they seek the
easiest way to bring down their enemies. The most prominent one is regional spells, where a
simple fireball can overwhelm a large area, just enough to include the warriors surrounding
the sacrifice.
Dark Elf Assassinations, if not for their innate resistance to spells, would have been wiped out
by the exploding flames.
The Dark elves were definitely prepared. Each attacker wore a pair of black glasses over his
eyes. This avoids sudden damage from the glare. The Drow fear of light's weakness is as well
known as their ferocity, and any enemy of the Dark Elves will find a way to exploit this aspect.
Therefore, Vincent did not count on the power of the bright spells to have much effect at all,
and he put more faith in the attack magic of the Power staff. In the mere fact that he can use
the source of magic to constantly replenish the staff's power while avoiding its own depletion,
Vincent is more powerful than any dragon who regards the use of magic as an instinct.
Vincent's spells are only half effective against the Drow, but the fire, lightning, and acid strike
without fail. The returning bolts were dangerous, loaded with poisons that could kill if they
touched a wound, but Vincent had so far escaped unscathed by illusions and obstacles.
The last soldier was knocked over by the blast, and his magic force was unable to resist the
heavy blow of the air. Vincent walked not far from the Drow sacrifice, still holding a lightning
bolt in his hand.
"Male! You humble reptile! The spider goddess will remember what you did today and she
will prepare a feast for you in hell! You will suffer forever in this life, and we will not let you
go!"
Vincent can erase the existence of this sacrifice with a wave of his hand. His eyes darted to
the dark elf in front of him, and he saw her family emblem hidden beneath her chainmail.
"You go back and tell Brisha that there is an army of serpents eyeing the entire city of
Prudence." Vincent weighed the pros and cons. "If she wants to stay in the First Lady's seat
for a long time, she should consider this information of mine."
As soon as Vincent shook his hand, the ground of the square was blasted into huge pits by
lightning. The hard rock beneath the earth became as weak as mud before the force. Pointing
to the pit, Vincent continued, "If you dark Elves still want to make trouble for me or those
around me, I don't mind coming back to the Underdark again to show you how powerful I
am. Tell Brisha that I have no love for the Drow to begin with. Don't put me in opposition to
her."
"Besides," the mage said at last, "Batana died under my spell, and I don't mind being the first
to kill two first mothers. Now, Drow, go away!"
By the time Hardy and his men crowded in, Vincent and the dead bodies of the dark Elves
were all that remained, and it was clear that the battle was over. The Grey-Dwarves' castellans
were also coming fast towards the spot, their regular footsteps clearly audible at a distance.
Vincent walked slowly towards his companions. "If you don't disappear quickly, the Dwarves
will think you are criminals." After saying this, Vincent disappeared into their field of vision.
"This guy!" Hardy snorted disapprovingly: "The cook is convenience! Faster to escape
responsibility than anyone else." With these words he was long gone.
Vincent was invisible but he did not leave. He remained on the scene. When the Grey Dwarf
came running, he was surprised to see the dead body of the dark elf lying on the ground and
did not know what to do. Several soldiers ran away in a panic, presumably to find their
commanding officer.
After standing there for a long time, Vincent walked in the direction of the Red Mushroom
Tavern. He waited to see if there were any other dark elves in the city. If there's more than
one wave of attackers, the others are bound to check out the scene to learn something and
be successful in their next attack. By the time the scene had been cleared by the Grey Dwarves,
however, no Drow had appeared as expected.
"The city of Bribando is the last place the Dark Elves are likely to pursue, and beyond that
there are too many options for the road ahead." Vincent thought happily. 'It would be a good
bargain if the dark Elves gave up their pursuit in exchange for information.'
The closer he got to the surface, however, the more nervous the mage became, fearing that
one wrong move would be all but a loss. His mind could not stop thinking. It was constantly
working out all the possible scenarios, and even the slightest thing would be seen as a
possible danger and hidden danger.
Shelley stood at the second-floor window of the Red Mushroom Tavern, watching the night
sky over Bribando with Sokka. Since leaving the Dark Elves, Shelley had come to life all over
again. Her interest in everything had returned. She could now say more in a day than she had
in a week.
Vincent looked at the pub and the women waiting at the window and always felt the scene
was familiar, buried somewhere in his memory.
"Calm down, mage! Vincent told himself, "Too much excitement can cloud your judgment!"
But isn't this repeated self-warning a sign of too much excitement?