Even the thirty elite fighters' physical strength and reserves of spiritual power couldn't sustain him using his skills on such a massive scale seven or eight times.
If he could kill that bastard from the Human Faction, then these costs would be worth it. Even if all thirty elite fighters were drained until they were nothing but husks, Wizard wouldn't bat an eye.
He could always pull more elite troops from that final line of defense.
But first, he had to make sure he could kill his opponent. Without that guarantee, blindly using a drip-feed tactic would be pointless, no matter how many troops he threw into the fight.
Eliminating these evil monsters might look impressive, but it was really a futile effort.
Who knew how many evil monsters the vast Western Frontier Military Region could recruit? If the enemy kept summoning them without end, there would be no end in sight.
Forget his few hundred elite fighters—even five times that number couldn't withstand such losses.
Besides, people weren't like evil monsters.
People knew how to assess a situation, and they felt fear. If their side kept piling up corpses throughout the battle, could they really keep fighting like this?
Even if these elite fighters were obedient, they couldn't calmly go to their deaths without a flicker of emotion like robots.
But the enemy was commanding evil monsters. Even if their casualties increased tenfold, there was no need to worry that no one would take responsibility, nor would they feel any pressure.
When the elite fighters heard Little Wizard say that, they thought he was going to make another group take the hits. They wanted to offer a few words of advice, but then they considered that what had happened earlier had little to do with them. Any further losses