It seemed to be in order to confirm what the professional thief had said among the thieves, after another round of bombardment, the seemingly endless explosions finally stopped.
The thieves breathed a sigh of relief, and the professionals also began to construct their spell models in preparation for a counterattack.
“Did you enjoy blowing things up? Now it’s my turn!”
The thief professional mocked the ignorance and lack of practical experience of the others while constructing his spell model and hurling insults.
This intensity of explosions indicated that the opposing team was primarily composed of mages. Although it was unclear which faction they belonged to, it was apparent that their experience was very insufficient; they might be newcomers just arrived at the Giant God Mountain Range.
After such a reckless barrage and then so much silence, the thief mage could almost conclude that the opponent had stopped casting spells because all of their magic power had been exhausted.
Magic power for mages was extremely precious, so usually, ordinary soldiers would probe the enemy’s position before the mages would start using spells to attack. For a team to recklessly toss spells without even seeing an opponent was clearly a sign of amateurs.
Unless everyone on the other side knew the explosion spell, and that it cost nothing.
How could that be possible?
The thief mage chuckled, wondering how such absurd things could happen in the world; he was truly dazed by the explosions.
But soon, this thief mage could no longer laugh, as a group of soldiers clad in silver and black armor rushed out from the smoke generated by the explosions.
The thief at the front subconsciously drew his knife to strike but found his knife bouncing off with a crisp sound.
At this moment, these thieves realized that all these soldiers were armored, and not just in leather armor or other custom armors, but all were in identical chain mail.
The silver-black soldiers seemed like ruthless killing machines, swiftly emerging from the smoke to stand before the thieves, drawing their blades, seemingly convinced that the thieves’ ragtag weapons could not harm them, like a swarm of demons in the smoke.
And indeed, that was the case; although the thieves’ swords and blades were much stronger than those of the refugees, in front of these soldiers, they felt like toys, shattering upon contact. Even those mages didn’t have time to finish their spell models before being cut down.
At this moment, Darsi had forgotten to use a stone to cut the rope binding him and was instead staring blankly at the battlefield.
Those thieves, who had used all their strength to grab him like a chick, were now being cut down one by one by this fully armed group of soldiers. The leather armor that Darsi had sold for several years would not have been sufficient to outfit even a single soldier in armor against the blades of this troop, and even those butchers who had killed several refugees could not breach the soldiers’ defenses.
Boom!
A thief mage finally constructed his spell model, unleashing a few basketball-sized fireballs that directly hit a silver-black soldier. That soldier fell to the ground, rolled, and immediately took a bottle of restorative potion from a pouch tied to his leg and downed it smoothly, as if there was not a hint of hesitation in his actions.
It should be known that although these restorative potions were necessities for mercenary thieves and adventurers, most people wouldn’t spare them until they were at the brink of death, and they would typically use one bottle as if it were three, and even with water added, it could last a year. Yet these soldiers treated the restorative potions as if they were drinking spring water by the roadside, downing an entire bottle at once.
The thieves were even more desperate than Darsi had imagined; after all, Darsi could only see that the silver-black soldiers’ equipment was very strong, while the professional thieves amongst them were discerning.
These soldiers, who drank restorative potions like water, not only had enchanted weapons, but even their chain mail covering them was enchanted.
No wonder they could drink restorative potions like water. Which lord’s soldiers were these? Why were they not protecting their lord and instead came to the Giant God Mountain Range to bully them?
The thief leader immediately raised both hands and surrendered, and indeed, a tall silver-black soldier saw this and spared the thief leader while cutting down a professional thief who ran past him.
The remaining thieves quickly raised their hands in surrender, and the battle soon ended overwhelmingly against them.
“Control everyone. Search them thoroughly. Not one must be missed.”
Lauri, at the front, took off his helmet and directed the soldiers to secure the scene.
It must be said that this group of thieves was the strongest that Lauri had encountered in the past few days, but under absolute equipment oppression, these thieves had no chances at all; at most, a few soldiers had sustained minor magical injuries.
This feeling was absolutely exhilarating; Lauri had never fought such a rich battle. Even if Lind continued to insist on practicing marching in unison and reciting the three major rules and eight points of discipline, Lauri felt it was worth it.
Soon, a portion of soldiers began searching and detaining the thieves, while another group started rescuing the prisoners.
Even the ropes binding the prisoners could immediately be used on these thieves; one could only say it was karma in action.
The soldiers kindly took out their restorative potions and administered them to the weak prisoners.
One soldier even took out a small booklet and began to inquire about each prisoner’s age and family situation, constantly reassuring these newly rescued captives.
His tone was earnest, and his attitude sincere, making these prisoners believe that the goddess had manifested, sending a paladin to rescue them, and they all knelt down on the ground and started bowing to the soldiers.
The soldier in charge of recording hurriedly helped up the prisoners and said, “Everyone is equal. You don’t need to kneel anymore. If you truly wish to thank us, just cooperate with the investigation.”
However, these words only made the prisoners more firmly believe that they were saved by the legendary paladins, resulting in even more of them kneeling on the ground and bowing repeatedly.
Lauri, unable to tolerate it any longer, urged, “Secretary, if they want to kneel, let them kneel. Once we finish registering, that’s it. I still have to finish my shift and go drink.”
The soldier referred to as the secretary immediately countered, “Comrade Lauri, this isn’t about whether to kneel or not; it’s about letting these people know they don’t have to fear us, so we can carry out our work better.”
“And Comrade Lauri, military orders state that drinking is not allowed during missions, so if you insist on drinking, I have the right to report you to Lord Lind.”
As soon as Lauri heard this, he immediately recalled the last time he was reported for sneaking a drink, and Lind had punished him by making him copy the three major rules and eight points of discipline two hundred times. He was left without options, pouting as he said, “Alright, alright, ah, you people who went to listen to Isha’s classes all sound the same; it’s really boring.”
