But Rhode could no longer use the same trick, because the enemies were already too close.
Although Blizzard was powerful and excellent at controlling enemies, it had one drawback: it could only be cast a certain distance away from the caster, so casting it now would not hit them.
Besides, even if he could cast it, he would likely hit Windstrike and Lilia by mistake.
So Rhode could only cast Ice Armor on himself first, then hurl his Great Fireballs, firing down the slope alongside Windstrike.
One shot, two shots-a devilish barrage.
The enemies struck by their "shots" tumbled down the hillside one after another, bringing their assault to a halt.
When the Syndicate saw that the Blizzard below had vanished and their Mages were being surrounded by Ravenholdt Assassins, they immediately changed tactics.
The Syndicate members still at the rear turned around to protect their Mages.
Meanwhile, a few nimble fighters still tried to dodge the bombardment of fireballs and arrows, gradually closing in on Rhode and the others.
But Rhode's fireballs were far too accurate and vicious. Those who dodged the first often failed to dodge the second. Sometimes he missed their bodies but shattered the rocks beneath their feet, bringing the enemies down along with them.
In the end, only one middle-aged Syndicate Assassin with a Mediterranean hairstyle made it up the slope.
He seemed exceptionally fast and adept at dodging. Those nearly instantaneous small fireballs posed little threat to him.
Rhode secretly gathered his power, preparing to give this "Mediterranean" a big one.
But just then, Rhode sensed that something was wrong.
What was going on? His mind suddenly went blank, the connections in his Spell Model broke, and the flames in his hand went out.
Rhode looked utterly bewildered.
*Why did I have to short-circuit