Monia uses the Fire Burst technique.

While the flames summoned by the mage are very different from naturally occurring flames, it is difficult to burn the rolling boulder with just the fireball spell - it can only melt the outermost layer of skin, so that instead of destroying the falling stone that is rampaging through the camp, it will give it a cloak of flames.

The mage would definitely not use such a "rival" spell, and the accumulation of three years had already made her spell pool quite rich - spells that could erase the threat of rolling rocks, and in just a thought, she had thought of at least three. But in the end, her choice was the Flame Burst Technique, the mid-level spell she was most familiar with.

In the path of her true name, she casts this spell through the perspective of a high-level mage, and her vision makes it have no secrets in front of her. Even if you can't cast a spell quickly, it's enough to complete this "spell that deals damage to a dragon" at a speed that would make a normal mage jaw-dropping.

That's why she chose the Flame Burst Technique.

The result was unsurprising, and even a scaled down version of the Flame Blast, which strives for speed, was terrifying—everything within the range of the rising pillar of flames was reduced to ashes.

Not even the residue remains.

Only the heat wave came to his face—but that's all, Isdamel only raised his brow slightly, didn't even have a little expression, and gave the order with a cold face.

"Prepare for battle."

Short, powerful words drowned out the rumbling sound of rolling stones, and the commanded elven warriors circled in small circles according to their duties, protecting the most important members of the group.

Mages are naturally one of them.

It was the four elven warriors who were responsible for protecting her, and every warrior in the mission was a professional, and a blood-seeking, military-like professional, the true elite of the Elven Forest - under their protection, she hardly had to worry about her own safety, and even if a high-ranking professional attacked, they could at least buy a certain amount of reaction time, so that she could activate the spell shield in time to maneuver.

Although the mid-level mage is still classified as a lower-level professional, it does have the strength to compete with the idle high-level warriors, and Monia is undoubtedly the best among the middle-level mages.

But the little mage was not preparing for battle now, just roaming the ranks with his gaze.

Battles should not break out anytime soon, and blindly preparing high-power spells is of little use when the situation is still unclear, and high-damage fire-based spells may even splash allies in such a narrow and dense environment - of course, this is not an excuse, Monia is just hoping to use this gap to find Lahuana's location.

In the heat of battle, the fighters who are on the front line are the most dangerous. The mage doesn't want her to die because of this, if he can lock her position now, he can provide a little firepower or control support - don't underestimate this support, there is often only a thin line between life and death in battle, and moving slower than expected at a critical moment can lead to victory or defeat, life and death reversal, not to mention the magic support she provides.

Where is it?

Monia couldn't help but frown after finding where Lavana was—there were twenty-five elven warriors in the thirty-man mission, and about half of them were responsible for protecting the elven princess, the elders of the forest, and her safety. The remaining half followed Ista Mer and joined him in the face of the enemy. Frankly, an elven warrior with the duty of guarding is no safer than facing the enemy head-on, but at least she can feel much more at ease than if she is close to the front and close to the front.

But things in the world can't go as people want.

"That's all there is to it." The mage sighed in resignation, then retracted his gaze helplessly, waiting for the enemy's next move - if I guessed correctly, this round of falling rocks is just a means for the enemy to create chaos, and the real killer weapon should be the attack after the chaos.

Sure enough, when the chaos caused by the falling rocks showed a slight sign of subsidence, a group of masked warriors with veils rushed out on each side of the slopes that had fallen from the boulders, brandishing their weapons and shouting in an unclear tone, their bodies burning with a visible red light, and sprinting down the high slopes towards the camp.

It's fanaticism.

The mage recognized this magic for the first time, and reminded: "Be careful, this is a magic technique that stimulates potential, and during the effective period, it will greatly increase the strength and speed of the opponent, and the tolerance for pain will also be raised to a terrifying level - it is no exaggeration to say that they will not feel the pain that humans should have, and the whole person's body and mind will be occupied by faith, if they are not killed, even if they are cut off, they will continue to fight." ”

"Terrible news...... said Ista Mer - he could imagine how difficult it would be for a team with an almost fanatical fighting zeal that didn't know what pain and death were, even if he hadn't seen it before. So, he then asked, "Do you have any good ideas?" ”

She didn't specify who she was asking, but the mage knew he was asking herself—without even thinking, and she replied straightly, "I'm sorry, I don't have a good countermeasure, the only thing I can offer is good news that isn't good news - the time that fanaticism is only effective for ten moles, maybe more?" But in the end, there is a limit. ”

"It's really useless news...... the elven swordsman shook his head, he could even guess that the side effect of this magic spell that the little mage said was nothing more than a languish after a duration, but the problem was that since the enemy had used this kind of spell that greatly increased combat power in a short period of time, it was nine times out of ten that the decision to end the battle within ten muls would not allow them to easily find a way to delay time.

"Carry out long-range suppression, free fire."

There was no other way but he ordered.

The biggest difference between elves and humans is not the long, pointed ears, but the cycle of life. Although the extremely long life makes the elves' war potential far inferior to humans, it is undeniable that the average combat power of elven warriors is far superior to that of humans, and what is even more terrifying is that their skills are often not limited to a certain piece or even a certain type of weapon.

That's where longevity comes in.

There is a popular saying among humans: "Every elf is a good marksman", and although not all elves are skilled enough to match the enemy marksman, the hunting instinct for bows and arrows is in the blood of the vast majority of warriors in the Elven Forest.

The elves who were eligible to join the mission were naturally the best among them - even if not all of them carried bows and arrows with them, at least nearly half of them changed into turquoise standard short bows after receiving the order, pulling the bow and drawing the strings, as sharp as a goshawk's eyes panning, and then the knuckles were slightly loosened, the strings sounded like the moon, and the arrows were like shooting stars.

Shoot!

More than ten arrows are far from being called arrows raining down, let alone the momentum of ten thousand arrows, but more than ten blood-colored flowers blooming at almost the same time a hundred steps away, but there is a touching beauty.

Five of the fanatical warriors fell, and most of the remaining negative arrows suffered heavy losses, even if they did not lose their ability to move, they obviously could not continue to fight as an effective combat force, if they were not under the effect of fanaticism, they would have lost the power of a battle like the five fallen ones, and could only send out helpless and painful ** on the battlefield.

However, even with such a lucrative result in this round of blows, Isdamel was still cold - five, or more than a dozen...... It sounds like a lot, but in reality the number of enemies is much more than that, they are pouring in like a tidal wave, swarming, and as far as the eye can see, there are at least hundreds of people densely packed.

A few, or a dozen, is just a trivial number.

can only shoot more than ten people in one round...... And with the speed of the enemy's charge, how many rounds of fire did they have time? And how many people can be killed? Even if none of these enemies were professional, hundreds of dead men who had forgotten their lives would be enough to drain a lot of the physical strength of the members of the mission - if the enemy's warlords and magicians took the opportunity to attack at this time, the situation would definitely go in a rather unfavorable direction.

What a terrible start.

Esta Mel sighed in her heart, but she didn't show it on her face.

- He is the leader of the team, the pillar of all, he must not be indecisive, he must not panic, he must always be calm and calm, and he must maintain the confidence of victory, at least on the surface.

"Ready," less than half of the elves carrying bows and arrows with him, and this half was mixed in all directions, so he did not give a group death order, but let them shoot freely, but now that the enemy was approaching, he must be ready to meet the enemy at close range, "switch ......"

He had not yet fully issued the order when he suddenly stopped talking.

"...... this?" An almost murmuring tone, for the first time, his expression changed.

"This ......" is not much better than him, and the little mage who has already risen a black and red flame in his hand can't help but be stunned by the situation in front of him, and looks ahead blankly, "What the hell is going on?" ”

Not only them, but all the elves stopped what they were doing, not knowing what to do next.

Because, the target of the attackers is not them.

But...... The greeting procession of the land of mountains, or rather......

His Royal Highness, the eldest son of King Gabriel, son of the mountains.

Abel Scana. PS: Did anyone guess? ps2: Originally, this chapter was a big chapter from the previous chapter, but halfway through the writing, I suddenly found that it was 3,000 words, and because there was no time for the funeral, it was split.