Charles did not cast a spell. Instead, he drew his bow and fired.
He was currently disguised as a sun elf. What elf was not skilled with a bow?
Besides, he truly did not think much of these enemies.
His mental power had detected them long ago, but he had not hurried to strike back.
If they were too far away, he would not be able to wipe them all out, and cleaning up the battlefield would be troublesome.
It was better to let them come closer. That way, there would be no such concern.
He stood directly atop the gray-scaled horse, grabbed a handful of arrows, and with every draw of the bow, an arrow shot out like lightning.
His archery had not been much to speak of before, but after directly purchasing archery insights from a half-elf shop, he was now a master marksman as well.
As an Intermediate Demon, his strength was formidable. Even with a heavy bow, he could fire continuously.
This group of enemies was a small band of bandits made up of orcs, humans, gnollmen, and hobgoblins.
Judging by their equipment, they were not particularly professional.
Only a few sturdier orcs wore armor, and even that armor did not seem to fit very well.
Who knew who its previous owners had been.
But clearly, since the armor had fallen into these bandits' hands, the original owners could not have met a good end.
Charles's arrows were infused with magic. Though their power could not compare to sorcery, against these weaklings who had not even reached the first rank, they were instant kills.
With every arrow he fired, a bandit was struck head-on in the head.
The arrows pierced straight through their skulls. Some even blew the bandits' heads apart, splattering tomato-tofu mush all over