I am the Enchantress!

【The Art of Harsh Words】

The goblin priest possesses one of the few low-level spells.

It can be continuously released until the body's mana is exhausted, and its effect is to cause sound wave interference to enemies within a dozen to several dozen feet.

Mild symptoms include headache, nausea, and dizziness; severe symptoms include fainting and loss of consciousness.

Although not fatal, it is remarkably effective.

Cyrion and Gru, who had initially held the upper hand, became noticeably sluggish under the influence of this mental attack and began to struggle against the goblins' onslaught.

"Wild! Joffrey!"

Cyrion raised his shield with his left hand to block the attacks from the two goblins in front, while his right hand held his longsword across his shoulder to parry slashes from the flanks. "Still haven't found the goblin priest?!"

"Looking for it!" Joffrey replied.

Affected by the evil speech spell, his speed in moving through the goblin horde also slowed down.

He forced himself to stay focused, his gaze sweeping over the goblin's grey-green face, one after another.

There's not much difference.

Their clothes were all taken from caravans or adventurers, cut and sewn together, making them look like priests, yet none of them looked like priests.

Where exactly is it?

On the other side, Wilder once again condensed the greasy magic in his palm.

He has given up on finding the goblin priest.

Even Joffrey, whose agility far surpasses his, couldn't find him, so it was even less likely that he, standing on the periphery, could.

He planned to unleash the Grease spell in a moment, then find an opportunity to have his teammates scatter, and use the Burning Hand to burn these beasts to ashes.

But there is still one problem.

The verbal attack slowed down his teammates, who were being held back by the goblins and finding it difficult to create distance.

Meanwhile, Wilder himself was also affected by the evil speech spell, and the preparation time for his spells was longer than usual.

The verbal abuse relentlessly erodes their minds; the damage is not uniform but rather cumulative.

Can't delay any longer.

Let's put aside the greasy stuff first...

"Garagahoga!" (Morga's magic is really useful!)

"Gagakra!" (Great Morga!)

"Kratraha!" (That dwarf's flesh must be delicious!)

"Moharataha!" (But it smells a bit bad!)

"..."

The goblins' chattering kept reaching his ears, making it increasingly difficult for him to concentrate.

I never expected that the [Linguist] class would have this side effect, especially when encountering noisy monsters like goblins.

"Wah-ha-ra-ga-ta-ha." (These people actually managed to hold out for so long.)

"Gararagata!" (Let's settle this with my burning hands later!)

Two slightly somber goblin words suddenly drifted into Wilder's ears.

Burning Hand?

There are actually competitors here?

and many more.

A goblin with burning hands...

Isn't that the priest?!

interesting.

Both sides' mages actually planned to end the battle with fire.

But Wilder has now changed his mind.

Amidst the cacophony of goblin language, he carefully discerned the deep voice and determined its origin.

The sound was softer and farther away than the others, like the faint shadow of distant mountains in a landscape, separated from him by a thin veil.

Transmitting sounds over a distance?

impossible.

The range of the spell "Malice" cannot exceed fifty feet; it must be nearby.

"Gara ta ta ya la!" (There seems to be a mage on the other side!)

"Wagarara?" (What is he looking for?)

Two more sentences in soft, deep goblin language came through.

This time, Wilder listened intently and pinpointed the approximate source of the sound.

Right front.

There were several clumps of low but thick shrubs.

Above the lush green leaves, a patch of grayish-green skin, about the size of a fingernail, is visible; it's almost invisible unless you look closely.

No wonder the sound was so soft and seemed to come from somewhere; it was hiding there.

The distance wasn't far; it was within the range of the [Magic Missile].

Wilder gently raised his oak staff, aiming the tip at the exposed scalp.

The ruby ​​at the top of the staff gleamed faintly.

"Gagawaka!" (He's about to unleash a spell!)

"Rawa ga na ha?!" (Has he spotted me?!)

Upon hearing these two sentences, Wilder smiled slightly and suddenly spoke:

"Kawaigagaka, Taya!" (Don't always say what's on your mind, you idiot!)

At the same time, the ruby ​​on the top of the staff emitted a dazzling deep red light.

The goblin priest behind the bushes was suddenly startled.

The mage on the other side can actually speak goblin language?!

The next second, realizing his location had been exposed, he immediately turned and fled.

But it was too late.

Instant cast, plus guaranteed hit.

It cannot escape.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

【Magic Missile】

Three extremely fast missiles shot out from the ruby ​​and flew straight behind the bushes!

The goblin priest was quite experienced in escaping, dodging left and right in an attempt to avoid the trajectory of the missile.

However, the missile followed closely behind, tracing three graceful arcs in the air, and was even faster.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Three extremely penetrating loud bangs.

The missile struck its head precisely, and the gray-green skull shattered instantly.

As the bright red blood splattered onto the goblin priest, the faint crimson air in the forest dissipated.

【The Art of Harsh Words】

Release.

Cyrion suddenly felt a lightness throughout his body, and the source of power within him surged forth once more.

He witnessed the three missiles that had just streaked across the sky and immediately realized that Wilder had succeeded in killing the goblin priest.

"pretty!"

He roared, his left arm muscles bulging, and slammed his large shield into the face of the goblin in front of him.

With a "pfft".

That grayish-green head instantly shattered into a rotten melon.

"Those who know magic are dead! Kill them!"

"Okay!"

Gru's power was also unleashed, and he roared as he spun his long axe, his small body exuding an astonishing aura.

With a sweeping axe blade, a goblin was cleaved in two.

Without the magical blessing, the goblins began to scatter in the blink of an eye.

A few of the more timid ones turned and fled into the dense forest.

A black shadow silently gave chase. Before the fleeing goblins could even see his face, a cold dagger was already piercing their necks.

Hunting down fleeing bandits has always been the specialty of wanderers.

In less than six seconds, only five wounded goblins remained huddled together in the forest clearing.

Six seconds is just enough time for Wilder to prepare a spell.

[Burning Hand]

Blazing flames erupted from the fledgling eagle's palm, instantly engulfing the two goblins huddled together.

The screams were sharp and short, then completely drowned out by the roar of the flames.

Cyrion took a step forward, his silver-white one-handed sword piercing the chest of a goblin.

Gru's axe pinned the other one to the ground forever.

The last desperate goblin ran towards the dense forest behind it, just in time to run into the wanderer returning from the shadows of the trees.

The cold dagger was warmed once again by fresh blood.

……

The noisy and intense battle that had just taken place seemed like nothing more than a dream in the forest.

The border forests have returned to tranquility.

The battle is over.