Old Gods and the New King

"The Saracen fiend is about to face Lord Duke."

"So we're just going to watch?"

Some Kheshig Army soldiers were itching for a fight. "Didn't they say that no matter how powerful an evil fiend is, it can't withstand a volley of anti-magic gold arrows?"

"Exactly! Let's gear up with anti-magic gold arrows and give it a try!"

Anti-magic gold was indeed the bane of spellcasters. Some anti-magic gold bombs made by alchemists could blanket an entire area in anti-magic gold dust, turning it into a magic-dead zone. Even high-level spellcasters could suffer if caught off guard.

But the metal itself was rather brittle, and its magic-inert properties also made it difficult for alchemists to inscribe array patterns upon it. Without the enhancement of magical power, the spellcasters anti-magic gold could deal with were generally only low- to mid-level ones.

At Shemiel's level, even without using any spells or manipulating the Spiritual Power in the air, he could move a mountain with nothing but telekinesis, a basic application of mental power, and crush a soldier armed to the teeth with anti-magic gold into pulp from several thousand meters away.

Trying to bury a high-level spellcaster beneath the lives of ordinary people was harder than ascending to heaven. It required harsh conditions such as the target being unguarded, close range, and an assassin of immense martial strength and extreme speed.

Not to mention legendary spellcasters, who stood on an entirely different level of life from high-level spellcasters.

"Fall back!"

"Everyone, fall back! This is a battle between Lord Duke and the fiend. We have no right to interfere!"

The military orders were issued again and again alongside the signal flags. Though unwilling, the Crusader soldiers retreated one after another, leaving only those two figures facing each other beneath the blazing sun