A Wizard's Secret

Translator: J_Squared Editor: J_Squared

"Swish!"

Queiro's greatsword which was emitting a terrifying light slammed down directly toward Old Wilson's head.

Despite the great shock, Old Wilson quickly regained his focus. Both of his hands clenched tightly around the greatsword, and he groaned in a low voice. In an instant, the greatsword burst into a fiery flame. Gradually, the fire became bigger and burned intensely while emitting a scorching temperature.

"Light Sword!"

"Flame Cleave!"

It was as if diamond cut diamond when the two greatswords collided with one another. As a result, the flames intertwined and the white light produced strange noises.

"Bang!"

The flames on Old Wilson's greatsword was obviously not a match for the white light on Queiro's greatsword, yet both men staggered a few steps backward simultaneously. Surprisingly, they were somewhat on an equal strength.

"Third-level Light Swordsman!"

Old Wilson narrowed his eyes. After the previous round, he had already got hold of his opponent's ins and outs. The other party was a Third-level Light Swordsman who was evidently more skillful at manipulating Elements than himself.

"What a powerful force! A Second-level Fire Swordsman definitely doesn't possess such mighty pure strength!"

Queiro was also astonished. The former pride in his face was gradually replaced by concern. He noticed that Old Wilson was only a Second-level Fire Swordsman but in a contest of strength, they were rather equal. The explosive power within Old Wilson's burly built was indispensable.

"See, Queiro, you can't deal with him alone. Haha, Angus is right to not underestimate him. An opponent who survived the Slaughterhouse must be someone extraordinary!"

Another man in a golden mask came forward to Old Wilson. Slowly, he drew out a greatsword, demonstrating that his action spoke louder than words.

"Yet another Third-level Light Swordsman!"

Old Wilson examined the two men carefully as he tried to come up with a countermeasure.

"Attack!"

The two Third-level Light Swordsmen - Queiro and Lelo - joined together to attack Old Wilson. In an instant, the place where the three of them were standing was cleared into a relatively quiet space. No one wanted to be close to them. Once they were near, they would be injured by the scattering Light Elements and Fire Elements.

Although Old Wilson was besieged by two Third-level Light Swordsmen, he was still able to support himself and carried on. His outstanding talents had gifted him a powerful force that seemed almost endless. Therefore, even if he was only a Second-level Fire Swordsman, he was able to rival against an Elemental Swordsman who almost reached the peak of Third-level potential.

The more Queiro and Lelo fought against him, the more their faces fell. Before this, the two of them were confident that it was easy to kill Wilson. Now, they were struggling to keep up.

"He's a monster. How is his body so strong?"

The two men glanced helplessly at Angus who was watching the fight.

Angus was the last man wearing a golden mask. He had been paying attention to Old Wilson. He noticed that Old Wilson waved his massive greatsword like a giant, fearless in fighting against the two Third-level Light Swordsmen.

Even in terms of strength, neither Queiro nor Lelo dared to confront Old Wilson. If they were not careful, they would be defeated by his terrifying force.

"It seems that even Lord Bishop has underestimated Wilson. Such powerful people do exist in this small city of Blackwater…" Angus whispered to himself as he pulled out the greatsword on his back gradually.

"Swish!"

A ball of dazzling white light, much stronger than Queiro's and Lelo's, radiated from the greatsword.

Angus grasped the greatsword with both hands and quickly dashed near Old Wilson, ready to join the battle.

'Three Third-level Light Swordsmen… More than fifty First and Second-level Light Swordsmen… They're definitely not a group of ordinary bandits but the guardians of the church!'

During this time, Merlin was kept safe under the protection of Prat and numerous other knights in the territory where he was leisurely observing the situation on the battlefield.

The strength of Old Wilson had far exceeded Merlin's prediction. The powerful Old Wilson, who was like the God of War, relied on pure strength to compete against the two forceful Third-level Light Swordsmen. This was indeed extremely astonishing to watch.

When Merlin had not mastered the power of the spell, his dealing with Rolin, also a Third-level Elemental Swordsman, had left him wretched where he almost died in Rolin's hands.

Therefore, he understood thoroughly the might of Third-level Elemental Swordsmen.

"Young Master Merlin, please head back to the castle. We pledge our lives to defend the castle!"

General Prat had quietly arrived in front of Merlin. He took out his greatsword while staring coldly at the bandits in front.

Led by two Second-level Light Swordsmen, there was a group of bandits rushing directly toward the castle. Prat had come forward to protect with his back to the wall.

"Come on, I've survived the Slaughterhouse, not to mention you little bandits!"

Prat sounded rather crazy. His greatsword also emitted traces of flame but they were not as strong as Old Wilson's as he was only a First-level Fire Swordsman. The dozens of knights guarding Merlin simply was not strong enough to deal with the hundreds of bandits and two Second-level Light Swordsmen in front.

"Young Master Merlin, don't worry, Yaguez will definitely protect you."

The person nearest to Merlin now was the young knight Yaguez who was about sixteen or seventeen years old. He was the one who had escorted him to the castle.

Yaguez had a stern look on his face and it was washed with determination. Merlin believed that Yaguez would not hesitate to stand up and protect him in any chance of danger.

"Yaguez, you'll be a great knight someday!"

A smile flashed across Merlin's face as if he did not feel the tension of the situation. Then, he jumped off the horse and walked straight toward Prat.

"Uncle Prat."

"Well? Young Master Merlin? Why haven't you return to the castle? It's dangerous -"

Merlin shook his head slightly before Prat could finish his sentence and interrupted calmly, "Uncle Prat, gather the remaining knights and retreat to the back to defend the castle. As for these bandits…"

As his voice fell, Merlin looked quietly at the group of bandits who were galloping at the speed of the wind.

"Whoosh!"

Without warning, two fist-sized fireballs appeared in front of Merlin, floating silently in the air while exuding an intimidating atmosphere.

"As for these bandits… Let me handle them!"

Prat was still stunned when Merlin's voice echoed in his ears.

Merlin stretched out his fair hands and gently pointed forward. In the blink of an eye, the two fireballs floating in front of him flew toward the bandits who were rushing toward Merlin.