Trinitas Mundus - The Story of Saint Knight Ray

Tria Calendar 325, December 26 at 3: 20pm.

Both armies clashed and about twenty minutes were about to pass.

By that time, Stella was lurking in the grass behind the Demon Army.

I could hear the two armies clashing, but in the opposite position to the front line, and from a low position I could not see at all how the battle was changing.

(In the operation, you should defeat the Kid Ghost Clan as soon as possible and attack the Great Ghost Clan to encompass them. But as far as I can see, there's no sign that the people on my side will show up. I don't know if it's working...)

While she thinks so, she approaches the enemy carefully, without showing any haste. Fortunately, the wind and the smell of the city burning kept the enemy from noticing.

Stella glimpses Ladis, a veteran of the cat beast man beside her.

Radice nodded small and told me with her eyes that we should wait like this.

(Now I just have to believe in Master Ray. Our turn came after that one gave us a signal. Don't rush. But......)

As she was rarely patrolling, the curse of confusion boiled down on the left wing of the Demonic Army, on the south side.

(Something is happening. Our turn should be soon. Our role is to confuse the enemy......)

As Stella was telling herself that, an explosion sounded overhead shaking the air named Dawn.

She lifts her right hand up small and then swings it down sharply, as per the prior meeting.

Fifty scouts of scouts who shrunk low with that signal loom behind their enemies as they sway the dead grass.

And when Stella unleashed an arrow on the Little Ghost Warrior, the scouts also unleashed one arrow after another.

The young man of the Little Ghost tribe - a warrior who still had little experience and was put behind him as a reserve force - raised a scream similar to a strong don on his back and the kind of shock he had been pushed and the pain he had never experienced before.

The moment he looked back to find out what had happened to him, he felt a strong discomfort in his throat.

There were brown bird feathers in his eyes.

Around me, they say, "Enemy!," "We have enemies behind us too!" but it wasn't in his ear. The young warrior closed that short life without understanding what had happened to him.

The Demonic Army's left-wing units fell into chaos as a result of the Assault of the Saints and the Scouts' ambush. Though the commander of the Little Ghost tribe bites into the mess, he immediately scolds his allies out loud, unworthy of his body, to try to clean things up.

"You're still ghost warriors! Few enemies! Calm down!"

And I will go on with the words of scolding even more.

"We are Master Shefki - Shefki Sommelyoki. Commander of the Little Ghost Troop. Captured by Ray's measures, you must avenge your self-harm! The Big Ghosts and the Medium Ghosts are watching! Still one of the flourishing Sommelyoki clans! Shame on you!

The Little Ghost Warriors return to me, blushing at the words.

But by then, both the Rays Horse Riders and the Stellas Repellents had left like the wind, and the warriors of the left-wing Little Ghost Tribe had lost sight of the person who should hit the accumulated frustration.

The stellars who made the blow were quietly moving to the right wing of the enemy without showing themselves.

(I'm not sure, but Ray should be right... but I wonder if it really fits his mind...)

Although Stella wouldn't put it on her face, she wasn't sure she was doing the role she was given.

Ladis, beside her, was running down the meadow, speaking to Stella.

"I'm fine. I get anxious when I can't see around, but trust my head. You just have to trust Ray."

When he smiles furiously, he taps Stella's shoulder lightly.

Stella nodded small with a serious look, "Thank you," she said, speeding up her legs even faster.

Demonic Army - In their words, the commander of the Sokius Western Dispatch, Orvo Kronvar, said in his ear, "It's a white magician!" The scream came in.

He stopped waving a huge axe and sent his gaze in the direction of his voice, the left wing side. Even around him the Great Ghost Warriors loosen their hand in battle slightly and care about the left.

Orvo's eyes showed a dozen horsemen and a brightly white equipped man at the head of them.

(Did you lead a separate team... a good opportunity to separate him? No, he put himself in a trap earlier... this is his usual means. You shouldn't move here inadvertently. If you push in the enemy's main force, he'll come before me. We shouldn't move now......)

"It's the usual hand of a white magician! He's gonna get this one's attention!

The warriors of the Great Ghost clan nod small at that voice as well.

"If you crush the main force of the enemy, it will come before us even if you don't like it. Crush the enemy in front of you!

Orvo was instructing his men to do so with an invincible grin. The warriors laughed and attacked the veteran adventurers in front of them.

Though Orvo was content with the way it looked, he was beginning to be dissatisfied with the fact that the Little Ghost Troop couldn't be as effective as he thought it would be.

(Thought I'd do some more, but now I'm sieging the enemy... you're still saying Shefki's absence is huge...)

But still, I wasn't so afraid of the status quo.

We could afford to see the scouts' surprise attacks from the rear.

(But I didn't know we could afford to turn soldiers in the rear. But now the enemy's trump card should be almost gone. The enemy still has a spell - the name of the sorcerer in the Demon Clan - but given the daytime combat, it's not that much of a threat either. You can win this!

He had an accurate understanding of the powers of the sorcerers in Periclitle.

The magic of the sorcerer meant that it had no great effect on our own great ghost tribe and was only as threatening as the archers.

In fact, only Doctus researcher, Lionel Raspade, is the only one other than Ray who can be a magician and a threat. There aren't many sorcerers Orvo saw, but if there were as many sorcerers as Ray, he didn't think they could set a trap that would burn the city.

(There are no other magicians other than the "White Mages” that pose a threat. One or two, even if they were there. If so, the enemy's measures are exhausted at the time the enemy's separate squad moves... the enemy in the rear should be ignored rather than poorly disperse their power...)

But something happened that denied his idea.

Rionel Raspade, a Doctus sorcerer and professor at the Tilia School of Magic, was holding back with a force of fifty sorcerers.

The commander of the Mage Squad was a mid-thirties fire attribute mage named Homer Morrison. He belonged to a party of third-degree adventurers, and as a Level 43 mage, he was also a well-known mage in Periclitle.

But he was also a graduate of the Tilia School of Magic. It shouldn't have anything to do with it right now, but the consciousness stained when I was younger doesn't slip out inside. In fact, although I think he is now too, Raspade didn't have his head up.

"Mr. Morrison. Isn't it time for an attack?"

Morrison reacts with Vikri to Raspade's words.

"Yes! Now, follow what your teacher has in mind to launch the attack."

When Morrison says so, Raspade becomes a slightly unwilling look,

"As I said earlier, this is a magical operation my godson thought of, not my idea. Now's not the time to say that."

Raspade was right, in front of them, an elite unit led by Periclitle defense chief Randall Ogburn and the Great Haunted Troop, the main force of the enemy, were fighting to the death. And Raspade, who is an amateur at war, also knew that the Periclitle side was pretty pushed.

Morrison bows his head small, but immediately changes his expression,

"First spot! Target, Big Ghost Warrior with Two Handed Sword on Black Chest Armor! Second squad! Target, Grand Ghost Warrior with Flail! Class three! ……

At the end of his instructions, the magicians began to chant simultaneously.

"" Lord of fire and god of fire (Ignis). I do not seek the fierce flame of your family, the Spirit, and I do not give to you the power of my life. Burn my enemies! Fireball! ""

"" Supporting all the earth, God of the earth (Reams). Give me a spear that strengthens the power of your family, the Spirit of the earth, and pierces the heavens. I do not give my life to you. Pierce my enemies! Spear of the earth! ""

Fifty magicians were divided into four squads.

They chant the same magic from squad to squad, concentrating their magic on one goal.

The Great Haunted Warrior, with a huge two-handed sword, was waving his sword wide in an attempt to stab a stop, in front of Periclitle's magician, who had fallen on a cursory knee. And exactly the moment I tried to wave my sword down, a dozen flaming spheres of the first spot clustered against him.

Perhaps one flaming sphere at a time (fireball) only works to the extent that it causes minor burns to the Great Ghost Warrior or Orga. But when a dozen of them are concentrated, the story changes.

The Great Ghost Warriors keep their swords up and eyes wide open. Not long before he avoided, a bright red flaming sphere concentrated on his upper body wrapped around the armor of his muscles. Flaming spheres that usually disappear as they are, but the flaming spheres collected at about the same time spread with a bright white light like the sun.

All those around them, regardless of their enemy allies, were blinded for a moment by that light.

The magician, who had been the target of the Great Ghost Clan, did not look directly at the light because he was on his knees. For this reason, when that light subsides, he will be the earliest to confirm the sight in front of him.

What he saw was the figure of a Great Ghost Warrior whose upper body burned to such an extent that it did not retain its original shape. Along with the sound of a skunk, he finally realized that he had gained his whole life in nine deaths, smelling the unpleasant smell of burning meat.

As he stared, the body of the Great Ghost Warrior slowly fell.

Rock spears (rock spears) by earthly attribute magicians were also more powerful than ever imagined.

Spears made of rocks measuring 10 cm in diameter and about 1 and 5 m in length do not have a great deal of killing power against the Great Ghost Warriors whose tip shape is tiny and wrapped in sturdy leather armor and thick skin.

But when it gathers a dozen bottles, its mass alone becomes a threat.

The Great Ghost Warrior had a huge flail that connected a large stick that was as good as a human adult's leg. A dozen rock spears arrived at the Great Ghost Warrior.

Shortly before the magic reached him, he felt murderous and glanced at the magician's unit. And stunned by the impending rock clatter.

Still, like a warrior in the war, the Great Ghost Warrior slammed down the first rock spear with a flail, lowering his posture even further and trying to pity the rock spear.

But his enemies weren't just magicians.

There was no way the Periclitle swordsman who was confronting him could have missed that gap. On the flank of the Great Ghost Warrior, whose attention deviated from the rock spear, the swordsman profoundly penetrated the two-handed sword, the sword of love.

Even the Great Ghost tribe, with its enormous body and overwhelming endurance, is pounded all over its flank and screams. And I got my upper body up slightly. Shortly afterwards, he was wrapped up in a rock spear that had arrived at him.

A dozen rock spears weighing more than 10 kg per bottle, or more than 100 kg, concentrated on the heads and shoulders of the Great Ghost Warriors at speeds close to 100 km/h.

Even the giants of the Great Haunted Clan, weighing more than five hundred kg, just couldn't absorb that kinetic energy. The Great Ghost Warrior was heavily blown backwards, involving several of his companions and falling over.

The swordsman, who scratched the Great Ghost Clan, was evil on the fragments of the rock flying apart from the top, surprised by the bumping sound of its rock.

"Damn! Shit, think about your side too!

He takes a glimpse of the Great Ghost Warrior blown forward. There was a giant rolling with tears and bitter crushes in the rocks. He was small and said, "I didn't know this kind of magic would work for these guys. You could win this......" he muttered, then slashed by the aug who showed up in front of him.

Rio Nell Raspade watched the situation satisfactorily.

And when I took a brief note in the notebook at hand, I immediately cast a spell myself.

"Ignis the Fire God. I do not ask for the spear of Hellfire, which burns everything down, and I will not give you the power of my life. My enemy, the spear of prison flames (Hellfire)"

In about thirty seconds an orange pillar of flame appeared over his head, 30 cm in diameter and about five m in length. Raspade felt the heat like a chilli bake, adding more magic.

The sorcerers around him open their eyes to the high-altitude magic that has appeared, and they cannot hide their surprises further in the heat.

Raspade waved his arms forward gently after seeing the flaming spear satisfactorily.

Raspade's spear of prison flames accelerated at once and hit an unlucky all-in-one org.

The magic of Raspade, which hit the middle of Auga's chest, was taking Auga's life in a piercing fashion.

He does not change his expression in any way, and when he nods small, he casts the same spell again

And the giant pillar of flame released from his hand goes toward the Great Ghost Warrior wrapped in leather armor.

The warrior noticed the magic of Raspade and rushed to avoid it, but the Periclitle adventurers tried to attack his knees and thighs as if to disturb the movement.

Here the Great Ghost Warrior misjudged.

We should have concentrated on the magic of Raspade flying from the front. But he was distracted by the adventurers for so little time as to blink. He made an irrevocable, fatal mistake.

Raspade's unleashed flaming spear stabbed the left shoulder of the Great Ghost Warrior who stopped his leg.

The spear of prison flames, which boasts an overwhelming calorie, burns the left shoulder of the Great Ghost Clan, and the Great Ghost Warrior strikes around, screaming similar to a growl.

Raspade, who was watching the situation, takes out the notebook again and takes notes.

And he was whining to himself instead of telling anyone.

"Uhm. Does the defense outweigh the org... the endurance is pretty much the same. Hmm, you didn't hit the same spot at all..."

And when I missed the notebook, I was about to release a spear of prison flames at the Great Ghost Warrior again.

Orvo was in a hurry for the sweetness of his own thoughts.

(Enemy spellmasters are more powerful than I thought. At least one is comparable to a white magician. That's not all. The use of magic is clearly different from ours. Even the Moon Demons can't use such powerful mass magic...)

Orvo had better have magic knowledge for a ghost tribe, but he didn't even have that much knowledge. For this reason, Raspade's proposed centralized operation of firepower was mistaken for massive magic by the masses.

(I didn't know you still had all these trump cards hidden. That's something like a white magician... but I haven't lost yet. With all that magic, the magic runs out quickly. How far can we stand after that...)

He ordered the Great Ghost Warriors to be lowered backwards and the Auga fully extruded.

"Push the orgasms forward! Don't stand on enemy spellmasters' rays! What, the enemy's magic runs out soon. Just a little patience!

At his direction, the Great Ghost Warriors give way to the Orga.

As a result, the pressure exerted on the Periclitle Army elite unit led by Randall Ogburn eased slightly.

But on the other hand, it moved on to what Orvo had expected.

The Mage Squad was about to run out of magic with several simulations.

Raspade, a high-level sorcerer, was no exception, and the commander of the sorcerer's unit, Homer Morrison, offered and was approved to withdraw to Reginald Warbeck, commander-in-chief of the Adventurer's Alliance.

The Mage Squad defeated six Great Ghost Warriors, a dozen Augs, but could not change the war situation.

And it was about an hour after the opening of the war on the plains.