Fear Spell

Tang Qi still remembered the moment before he was sent flying backward.

He clearly registered the explosive sound.

He just couldn't see its source, direction, or even target.

[Alertness] made him instinctively move his legs, knowing which direction he should dodge.

But this immense force struck him almost simultaneously with the explosion.

His speed wasn't enough for him to drop to the ground in an instant.

A pillar of invisible repulsive force directly impacted his abdomen.

"Bang!"

Tang Qi felt as if he'd been hit by a boxer's heavy punch.

As he fell to the ground, his internal organs contracted, squeezing out stomach acid that gurgled up his throat.

"Cough cough--blech!"

Pain and retching struck at the same time. Tang Qi, sprawled on the ground, had sour liquid flowing from the corners of his mouth, his eyes turning red, unable to even straighten up.

Undoubtedly, if he hadn't acquired the [Alertness] feat, any of the previous arrow volleys or sword slashes would have sent Tang Qi to embrace his next life.

But it was merely an "awakening," not a true "avoidance."

As a result, limited by Tang Qi's own physique, he couldn't rely on a single feat to help him through every crisis—

For arrows at a distance, or the trajectory of a swinging blade, things he could react to and see clearly, dodging was naturally twice as effective.

But if the crisis arrived in an instant, or the range was wide enough.

So much so that his reflexes and physical condition weren't enough to help him escape danger.

All he could feel was trembling and despair.

The explosive sound by his ears rang out again.

He narrowed his eyes, vaguely seeing the trajectory—

It was like an invisible, colorless giant force, only visible when it broke through the white mist, distorting the air as it tore through the sky from above.

[Magic Blast], a trick exclusive to sorcerers.

It wasn't as popular as Flame Arrow simply because not many people enjoyed signing contracts.

Sorcerers were spellcasters who gained power by signing contracts with a "Sovereign."

"Sovereign" itself was just a title, not fixed.

It could be a supreme Deity, an ancient and bloodthirsty longsword.

It could even be a small devil struggling to make ends meet.

If mages needed to study the ubiquitous "formulas," and warlocks needed to tap into the magic hidden within their bloodlines.

Then sorcerers sold their souls, freedom, or anything valuable to the Sovereign in exchange for its "gifts."

As a result, they could even skip the learning process.

Mastering powers that some people could never touch in their entire lives overnight.

But even knowing the identity of the caster, Tang Qi's body still lagged a beat behind his nerves.

Pain again resisted his will.

Fear surged once more.

He knew he couldn't avoid it—

"Clang! Clang!"

The force field arrived in an instant.

But it struck as if hitting steel, erupting with a crisp metallic ring.

"If you're not dead, get the hell up!

I can't find my way in this fog!"

Black Snake accurately pinpointed the landing spots of the two impacts.

Flipping the blade in his hand, he forced the repulsive force onto the slender blade, barely two fingers wide.

The impact was fierce, forcing even him to stagger back a few steps.

"Rua!"

Kuru had the ability to see in the dark.

It saw the source of the impact and immediately swung its staff.

Ice crystals cut through the night sky, shooting straight towards the heavens—

A giant, yellowish-brown bat with a rat-like head, hidden in the darkness, was circling overhead.

On its back sat an old goblin woman dressed in a pitch-black robe.

Seeing the ice crystals fly towards her, she shrieked in fear and quickly patted the bat's neck, signaling it to maneuver in the air.

As she narrowly dodged, she had no time to congratulate herself before spotting a pale white cold light clinging to the bat's left wing—

That was the spot Kuru intended to hit!

The bat's wings were already thin and translucent.

Now, a spiderweb of frost spread across it, the cold seeping into its skin and blood, dyeing the fleshy wing a frosty white.

Even the speed of its wingbeats slowed as a result.

What was worse, because the two wings flapped with unequal amplitude, the bat lost its balance for a moment.

Its body tilted, and the elderly sorcerer, lacking strength, couldn't grip its back with her legs. She fell from a height of forty feet.

For intelligent beings, calculation was never difficult.

Kuru might not be human, but it was certainly intelligent enough.

"Help!"

The sorcerer's hoarse throat choked out a cry of panic.

Several nearby goblins and orcs reluctantly abandoned their pursuit.

They quickly wove their arms into a "net" and stood at her landing point, just managing to catch her.

This, in turn, reduced Black Snake's pressure.

Gaining an opening, he saw his enemy and, without hesitation, suddenly broke into a run.

If the caster were high in the sky, it would be difficult for him to inflict effective damage.

But now that she had fallen to the ground, this short distance was nothing more than a breath for him—

Since Tang Qi couldn't evade the invisible repulsive forces, he had lost the possibility of breaking through the encirclement.

However, he couldn't abandon the poet who had seen through the illusion.

His only option was to take a risk and take down this caster first, to buy himself a chance to escape.

He didn't believe a goblin sorcerer capable of casting a third-circle spell would be as insignificant as blades of grass, unlike those vanguard suicide squads!

Black Snake's blade was always vicious and deadly.

The blade was dim and lusterless, yet swift as lightning.

It was about to pass by the shoulder of the orc beside her and slash towards her throat.

Up until now, no third-circle caster had survived his attack at such close range.

This was because his blade was fast enough that it left them no time to react.

Most of his victims only felt the pain in their necks as they were dying.

But this time was different.

He was facing a caster surrounded by guards.

This prevented "Snake Kiss" from reaching its maximum speed.

It also left an indelible stain on the curved blade's brilliant combat record—

An orc reacted in time, swinging its battle axe, its innate strength erupting with power.

It roared, and with a clang, sparks flew as it forcefully deflected the slender blade of "Snake Kiss."

This brief opening was enough for the old goblin to regain her senses.

As Black Snake missed, she clutched the necklace at her chest.

A dim, evil light flickered from it, and her pupils instantly dilated from the center, her entire eyeballs, including the whites, turning uniformly black.

Her withered palm suddenly opened, and a handful of black soil, appearing from nowhere, scattered into her eyes with the wind.

The black soil flew, as fine as ants, like gnats.

As it was cast, it was like a swarm of locusts passing through, covering a distance of nearly thirty feet before her eyes!

"Fear!"

The incantation she chanted was obscure and difficult to understand, a chaotic combination of onomatopoeia, more frenzied than a madman's ravings.

Black Snake was extremely close to her, with no way to avoid it.

As the black soil poured into his nostrils and "worms" clung to his pores, The only thought left in his mind was:

"It's over."

[Fear Spell: Illusion school, third-circle spell.
Creates an illusion in a 30-foot cone. All creatures caught in the spell's area will drop everything they are holding and face their deepest fears.
Those who fall into a panic will seek the safest route to flee from the caster until they have no escape.]

The fearless, inflicting the terror of magic upon the caster themselves.

Why is the status of casters always so lofty?

Why do city-states and empires, in their rule, always require the reliance and maintenance of casters?

This is certainly not out of respect for scholars—

What can earn respect is, and always has been, only power.

Perhaps the physical condition of low-level casters is far inferior to that of these seasoned adventurers of the same level.

But the vast and varied spells have always been a source of headaches.

"You'd best deal with the enemy casters at the very start of the battle.

Otherwise, you'll be dealt with by the enemy casters at the end of the battle."

Regrettably, Black Snake failed to successfully abide by this well-known rule.

The price of taking a desperate gamble would be one he could not afford—

Black Snake lost all his strength, leaving only tremors.

As if he had never been brave.

All those tainted by the black soil, friend or foe, now fell to their knees before the goblin, their eyes filled only with blackness and emptiness.

A fear originating from the depths of his heart surfaced before his eyes—

It was as if he were in the abyss.

The deep sea crushing his chest.

He gradually found himself unable to breathe.

"No, don't!!!"

No one knew what he saw.

But this Black Snake, who had been so confident of victory moments ago, now dropped the curved saber in his hand and struggled amidst tears and wails.

He wanted to escape at all costs—

But just as he wailed and tried to straighten up.

The blackness receded from his sclera.

As his vision cleared, He saw an unexpected figure plunge a rusty curved saber into the sorcerer's chest:

"Don't what?

You weren't sold a hook in a hallucination, were you?"