Making a Move

"Alright, alright. I'll go ask him."

President Luqi was somewhat flustered now as well. He had never expected to encounter so many bandits.

However, before he could reach Locke's carriage, he saw that Locke had already stepped out.

"Lord Locke."

President Luqi hurried forward to Locke. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief, he asked, "Lord Locke, around a thousand bandits have blocked the road ahead of the caravan. Do you think we should take a step back for now?"

Although President Luqi did not wish to lose half of the goods either, he could hardly question Locke's abilities in front of him, could he?

He could only express his worries in such a roundabout manner.

Of course, if Locke said they should retreat, President Luqi would have no choice but to swallow this bitter pill.

After all, it was because he had assembled such a massive caravan that he had attracted so many bandits.

If it had only been his own caravan, any bandit gang would have had at most one or two hundred men. Before Lord Locke, they would not have been able to stir up any trouble at all.

"There's no need, President Luqi."

Although Locke did not know all the thoughts running through President Luqi's mind, he also held bandits in great contempt.

The strong dared to raise their blades against those stronger than themselves.

Weak Ones, meanwhile, raised their blades against those even weaker.

In Locke's view, with the strength these bandits possessed, they could have lived well no matter what they chose to do.

But they had grown accustomed to gaining without working, plundering wealth from Weak Ones. If Locke did not encounter such people, so be it. But if he did, he would simply deal with them while he was at it.

Three years of bloody fighting on the battlefield had long since shown Locke the true nature of this world.

After nodding to President Luqi, Locke, escorted by four Rank 6 Warriors, made his way to the very front of the caravan.

"Not good, this caravan has a mage!"

The moment he saw Locke appear, the leader of the Crimson Silk Bandits was greatly alarmed.

Why were mages held in such higher regard than warriors?

For no reason other than power.

A single area-of-effect spell from a mage could kill a large swath of warriors.

If this mage was merely an intermediate mage, it would still be manageable. Their Magic Power was limited, and for high-level warriors, taking one or two intermediate spells head-on would not be fatal.

But if he was a High Mage, then they were in danger!

Whether in power or range, high-level spells were several times stronger than intermediate spells.

On the battlefield, if one wanted victory or wished to reduce casualties, the first thing to do was kill the enemy's accompanying mage!

"Everyone, this caravan has a mage! All Rank 6 Warriors, charge with me!"

"Kill their mage first. We'll discuss the rest afterward."

After saying this, the leader of the Crimson Silk Bandits drew the Greatsword from his back. He stomped down hard enough to leave a huge crater in the ground, then sprang more than ten meters forward and rapidly charged toward Locke.

The remaining bandit leaders also drew their weapons and charged after the leader of the Crimson Silk Bandits.

Of course, to prevent themselves from being wiped out by a single spell, they spread out as much as possible.

"Protect Lord Locke!"

Seeing the bandits launch such a charge, the caravan's guard commander shouted and took the lead in standing before Locke. He leaned forward slightly, ready to deal with the enemy's attack at any moment.

Seeing their leaders charge, the bandits' subordinates naturally would not stand idly by. With loud cries, they surged toward the caravan in a swarm.

The sheer scale of it made the caravan guards' expressions change drastically.

But it had to be said that compared to the bandits, the guards possessed far greater professionalism.

Even when faced with an attack by bandits who outnumbered them by nearly ten to one, the caravan guards' defensive formation did not falter.

Facing the incoming bandits, Locke was not worried in the slightest.

He had not feared them even when he was still a Rank 6 Mage.

Much less now, when he had broken through his limits and become a Rank 7 Archmage.

The greatest difference between a Rank 7 Archmage and a Rank 6 Mage, aside from liquefied Magic Power, was Mental Strength nearly ten times greater than that of Rank 6.

Moreover, Locke's comprehension of the Profound Mystery of "Illusionary Fog" was three times stronger than before.

Facing the charging bandits, Locke extended his left hand toward them. His immense Mental Strength had already completely enveloped the more than nine hundred bandits before him.

After his breakthrough in Mental Strength and his deeper, stronger comprehension of the Profound Mystery, Locke no longer needed the mist from Water Mist as a medium for his Mental Strength.

Then, the five fingers of Locke's outstretched left hand suddenly clenched together as he shouted, "Heavenly Dance Treasure Wheel!"

"Vision Deprivation!"

"Hearing Deprivation!"

In an instant, the nearly thousand bandits ahead felt their vision and hearing vanish. Darkness filled their eyes, while everything around them became utterly silent.

"Ah! Aaaahhh..."

"What's going on? Why can't I see?"

"My eyes, my ears..."

The previously orderly charge immediately descended into complete chaos.

Without sight, everyone's charging direction shifted somewhat.

More importantly, bandits who cautiously stopped were soon knocked down by those behind them who had not stopped, then trampled to death.

Some warriors, fearing for their own safety, swung their weapons at everyone who came close.

Even the Eighteen Bandit Chiefs at the very front were filled with terror.

When had they ever witnessed such bizarre magic?

Didn't mages chant spells and use the Water Element or light element to attack?

What kind of demon magic was this, depriving people of sight and hearing?

How could these bandits possibly continue attacking the caravan now?

They had all become a chaotic mob. Many loudly cursed, cried, and begged for mercy, yet the weapons in their hands continued to swing around them without hesitation. They feared being knocked down or struck by those approaching them.

If they fell to the ground, they would undoubtedly be trampled to death by countless people.

If someone struck them, they would be injured at best and killed outright at worst...

After breaking the bandits' charge, Locke's magic staff glowed blue. More than ten Ice Blades immediately appeared around him.

When Locke was Rank 6, he could only fully control the attack trajectories of three Ice Blades.

But after becoming a Rank 7 Archmage, more than ten Ice Blades were far from Locke's limit.

Then Locke swept his magic staff forward. The dozen-plus Ice Blades left streaking afterimages as, guided by Locke's Mental Strength, they rapidly harvested the bandits' lives.

In less than three minutes, nearly a thousand bandits had all died at Locke's hands.