Who on earth were they? Marin wondered, only to see Rhode rise to his feet with a grave expression.
Rhode looked far more troubled than he had when facing VanCleef and the others, making Marin's heart sink.
What enemy could make the seemingly unbeatable Mage Rhode take things so seriously?
While Marin's thoughts tangled into knots, a group of roughly forty or fifty people rushed in.
"Is... is that the Twilight's Hammer?"
Marin immediately recognized the uninvited guests' clothing. Their outfits were much like those of the people at the altar he and Antonidas had destroyed.
On their way here, Rhode had also given Marin an overview of this organization that worshipped the Old Gods, so Marin knew how dangerous it was.
Their leader was a balding, middle-aged mage with a black beard. He wore black robes and carried a skull-shaped staff.
They approached from the direction of the Defias group, but they seemed to pay the bandits no mind, heading straight toward Rhode instead.
As they passed through the Defias group, they even shoved people aside as though they were nothing.
"How dare you!" a Defias swordsman roared, reaching for the black-bearded mage.
Although the Defias had been helpless against Rhode, they were all formidable fighters in their own right. How could they tolerate such contempt?
But the black-bearded mage merely snorted, raised his staff, and sent a cloud of black mist surging out.
Before the Defias swordsman could even cry out, he dissolved into black smoke and dispersed, as though he had never stood there at all.
"What..."
The Defias were stunned.
Their three strongest fighters could no longer fight, leaving only eight or nine who could.
And now, with a casual gesture, some stranger who had walked up out of nowhere had vaporized one of them. How