"Don't let these filthy things come close!" Mage Becky commanded in a loud voice, "Release the Holy Light Spell!"

Compared to the Holy Fire Spell, the Holy Light Spell has stronger attack power, penetrating power, and higher accuracy, and after seeing the true power of these clay figures, the Sacred Domain Army was relieved of its tension. Pen Fun Pavilion www.biquge.info admittedly these little things are terrifying, but they are not invincible.

Countless thorns of light fell between the trees, and the orange-red sea of fire was instantly replaced by a dazzling white light.

The clay figurines that rushed to the front could leap over the wall of fire and pounce on the paladin's horses, but the spikes of light fell from the sky and pierced their bodies, and the sound of small cracks spread from the ground, and by the time the light receded, the ground was already a crump of mud.

This blow boosted Becky's confidence, and he ordered: "The Monks listen to the order, release the Holy Fire Charm to slow down the attack of the dirt monsters, the mages release the Holy Light Charm to stop the monsters from approaching, and the Templars are responsible for clearing the clay figures that have fallen into the charge!"

"True gods are not to be blasphemed!" Becky shouted, and the Sanctuary Army echoed in unison.

Suddenly, the flames cut a long line through the forest, splitting the dead leaves in half, and the fallen leaves swirled upwards with the hot air, rising into the air and turning into a cloud of sparks that burned to ashes, while the fire on the ground poured down like a flood down the flammable dead leaves to the height of calves.

Attracted by the heat, the fearless clay figurines staggered towards the wall of fire with a high-pitched baby cry. They gave up the pieces of fresh meat at their fingertips, but most of them jumped into the fire, which was so dazzling that only their heads and hands could be faintly seen, and there was the cracking sound of an iron pickaxe falling to the ground.

Most clay figurines were able to dash through walls of fire, but they were immediately surrounded by a dazzling white light that could not be opened to coalesce into cones of light that fell towards their heads and flattened bodies. However, they did not have the consciousness to dodge, but like attacked beasts, they pounced on those extremely destructive light thorns with more ferocious movements.

Their heads were smashed to pieces, their bodies pierced, and then shattered into mundane clods, leaving the few clay figures still stumbling forward.

Some tripped over a branch and shattered like porcelain, while others were lucky enough to sprint under the Templar's sword, but they were already vulnerable, and their blades flew towards them, smashing their dwarf bodies with ease.

"The true god shall not be blasphemed!" the cry resounded again in the jungle, and the low shrubs and tall trees became the best echo walls, sending the cry into the endless distance.

This emboldened Elio and his trapped Imperial knights, who cried in and screamed, "Kill the blasphemers, kill the spellcasters!"

Like most mages, Betsy smiled contemptuously, these useless cavalrymen would do nothing but shout. However, the evil sorcerer of unknown origin, the author of this tragedy, must be punished with the severest punishment.

If the Jury had been here, they would have known how to drain their blood and sacrifice it to the gods.

The spell of light grew stronger, and the clay figurines running on the ground became more and more sparse, and they persevered towards the flames and light of destruction until they turned into cracked mud.

From being uncountable at first, to fifty or sixty charging together, to now only three or five swaying to the Templars and being chopped to pieces, these faceless clay figures are no longer so feared that one cannot even imagine how they can create a horrific spectacle of broken flesh all over the ground.

Ellio went mad and led the Imperial cavalry all the way forward - only to be careful not to trip over slippery or charred pieces of flesh and entrails, and rushed to the front line, chopping up the clay figurines escaping from the flames one by one.

They were all frightened and red-eyed, and now they took their madness out on these lonely monsters with a vengeance: "Kill them! Kill them!"

The Imperial cavalry was covered in blood, and despite the spills of flesh on their legs and bodies, they swung their blades like madmen, until the few clay figures were finally sunk into the flesh.

The Prime Minister and his generals still did not shake off their fear, and the blades of their blades rose and fell rapidly on the minced meat, and they screamed: "Kill those devils, they are hiding behind the woods, and they are eyeing us!

However, the whispered chanting that had tormented the nerves had long since disappeared, and the woods fell into dead silence again, except for the broken clods of earth and the unrecognizable dead.

It was as if the dwarf monster and the cavalry turned into minced flesh were just a nightmare that never existed, only the smell of blood still hit people's nerves, making them realize that the real enemy had not even appeared half a figure.

Despite the threat in front of him, Elio still danced the eagle vulture like a frenzy, and even accidentally injured several cavalrymen who tried to protect him, he roared with red eyes: "Come out, don't play tricks, coward!"

But there was still a dead silence in the jungle, and no one answered him.

Becky ordered a small group of Templars to march into the middle of the woods in search of the evil warlocks who had created the dirt monsters, while the Prime Minister, several lieutenants, and the remaining Imperial cavalry were escorted out of the jungle and back to the Drinking Horse River, where they awaited the results of their pursuit.

The vast knights were blocked on the outskirts of the jungle, and more and more whispers spread from team to team, and the tragedy was depicted more and more terrifying.

Everyone saw that more than a thousand cavalrymen entered the jungle, and only a hundred or so came out.

However, no matter how horrific the narrative is, the truth is beyond people's imagination. If these thoughtful Imperial cavalry saw that their comrades had been reduced to minced meat in the shade, they would have dispersed in a hurry and expelled from the Southern Expeditionary Army at all costs.

Elio sat on the edge of the Drinking Horse River panting, leaning against a boulder, his hands shaking, his eyes reddening, his lips trembling, but he could not say a word, apparently he had not woken up from the nightmare he had just had.

He saw no living person, no idea who he was about to face, an enemy who trapped him in anger and despair, and then stretched a tightrope from his back, tightening his neck more and more, but he couldn't even grasp the skin.

His lieutenants felt the same way—they began to suspect each other of the fact that they had gone out on an expedition that they thought would be victorious, with only benefits and no danger, but now they had stepped into a bloody fog before they had even gone to war.

"Burn them to ashes!" Elio said through gritted teeth, not knowing who "they" really were, as if the curse had hit the steel plate and did not ease his anxiety at all.

In the evening, when it was overcast, the Templars finally returned from the depths of the jungle, their horses trailing a few emaciated men.