The appeal of the Church of the God of Justice was indeed strong. Many stranded adventurers and believers responded to their call and fought together.
However, what Anser was worried about was not Rand and the others.
His gaze swept over the crowded, chaotic mass of people on the bridge and fell upon the Flaming Fist fortress. The gate there did not budge at all, showing not the slightest intention of opening.
The worst possible situation had appeared.
On the city walls, the Flaming Fist soldiers were facing the threat as if confronting a formidable enemy. Ballistae and catapults were already in position, but the orders they had received were to defend the fortress at all costs.
If the gate were opened now and the subterranean creatures charged into the fortress on the heels of the refugees, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Anser looked at Priest Berg. "You go on ahead. We'll stay behind and intercept them for a bit."
He knew that someone had to provide cover. As long as Rand and the others got onto the bridge first, they could use the narrow terrain to block the enemy, fighting while retreating, and once they withdrew beneath the city walls, they would receive ranged support from the Flaming Fist soldiers.
If the Duergar reached the bridge first, there was a real chance that even the convoy would be overtaken.
Berg also understood the situation. He raised his hand and indicated four young priests. "You stay behind and help."
"Yes…" The four priests decisively picked up bows and arrows and broke away from the convoy.
Seeing this, Bratt's eyes lit up. He trotted after the wagon carrying weapons, took out a longbow, a quiver of arrows, and a shield. "I'll borrow these and return them later."
He could also use a bow, though he was not particularly skilled.
Berg patted Anser on the arm and looked at him deeply. In the end, he said nothing, only urging the convoy to leave quickly.
Anser scanned the surroundings and pointed at the watchtower at the head of the bridge. "Let's go up there."
"Alright…"
Everyone quickly climbed to the top and watched from afar as the swarm of monsters drew ever closer.
In just this short span of time, Rand's group had lost many more people. Almost every second, someone fell.
Anser put six sweet berries into the pocket close to his body, but then noticed that his palm was slightly warm. His heart was pounding wildly—not from nervousness, but from excitement. His condition was exceptionally good.
"They're here."
The junction was only a few hundred meters from the bridge. In just a few dozen seconds, the crowd was already less than two hundred meters away from the bridge.
Finn bent his bow and set an arrow. The arrowhead angled toward the sky. With a whoosh, the arrow traced a parabolic arc through the air and shot into the monster pack at the rear of the crowd, felling an orc and causing a small disturbance.
As a ranger, two hundred meters was within effective range. The hit rate was not ideal, but with the monsters packed together, there was no concern about missing entirely.
Finn fired continuously, indeed relieving part of the pressure on Rand and the others.
However, as Rand and his group fought while retreating, their speed was hindered. Many Duergar slaves were running ahead of them. If not for the large number of civilians drawing the monsters' attention, there was a good chance that monsters would already be on the bridge.
"Pick off those in front. We can't let them get onto the bridge first," Anser spoke to give orders.
"Alright."
At this moment, the nearest monsters were less than one hundred meters from the bridgehead. Bratt and the priests also began drawing their bows to intercept them, but unfortunately their archery was average, and their hit rate was not high.
"Hoo—"
Anser took a deep breath and focused his mind. magic power surged around his body. His long hair moved without wind, and his skin shimmered with a faint metallic sheen.
"Magic Missile"
Three luminous missiles scattered outward, wailing as they traced bizarre, unpredictable trajectories through the air, precisely striking the three goblin-like creatures at the front.
Three muffled booms faintly echoed in the air. The three goblin-like creatures were overturned one after another, knocking down even more monsters.
Casting again, Anser immediately noticed the difference from before.
The manipulation of magic power was smooth and effortless. His casting speed was faster, his guidance more precise, and the range far exceeded expectations.
With the "Spell Sniper" Feat, Magic Missile had a base range of 54 meters, but the range just now had clearly exceeded 70 meters. He had felt that he could hit and thus cast in advance, and the result indeed matched his judgment.
He inferred that this should be related to the increase in his primary attribute, Charisma. It seemed to have increased by only one point, but the actual improvement was conservatively over 35%.
Moreover, Charisma did not only affect magic power, spell saving throws, and ability checks. Its enhancement to a Sorcerer was comprehensive.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
From their elevated position, Finn and the others strained with veins bulging on their faces, arrows vanishing one after another from their bowstrings.
Now the goal was not to kill the enemy. It was enough to hinder the monsters from approaching.
On Rand's side, only a dozen or so people remained. Seeing that support had arrived, joy appeared in everyone's eyes, and they could not help but quicken their pace.
"Magic Missile"
Anser's Draconic speech was sonorous and forceful, carrying a metallic hardness. About every two seconds, a wave of missiles slammed into the monster pack.
His mind was exceptionally clear. Whoever approached the bridgehead got hit. From time to time, he would also smash a few Magic Missile into the monster pack to create some chaos, striving to ensure that every missile produced the maximum effect.
After firing Magic Missile six times in succession, even he felt somewhat dizzy and lightheaded.
Dispersed attacks made it hard to kill enemies, but the delaying effect was quite good. Intimidated by this, the steps of the monsters in the front ranks unconsciously slowed, indirectly hindering the pursuit.
Rand and the others were already showing signs of shaking off the enemy, only a few dozen meters from the bridgehead.
However, for Anser and the others, this distance was somewhat dangerous. Among the goblins were archers, who had already begun to return fire. From time to time, arrows landed on the watchtower.
"Fall back. Move in small groups, go over the rooftops, quickly—"
Anser had no desire to die young. After speaking, he turned around, took a running start, jumped from the watchtower onto the rooftop behind, and then climbed onto another rooftop.
The others were stunned for a moment, then followed suit. The priests retreated first, followed by Finn and Bratt.
But the support could not stop. After steadying himself, Anser turned back and fired two Sorcery Burst—Thunder in succession, using the thunder to intimidate a wave of enemies.
Looking down from above, within several dozen meters in front of the bridgehead there was a dense black mass. Monsters and humans were converging toward this point at the same time, with Rand and the others caught in the middle.
Suddenly, Rand broke away from the group, raised his shield, lowered his head, and launched a charge. Along the way, he knocked dozens of monsters flying, then seized the bridgehead and turned to hold the defense.
The paladin Zahir acted as the spearhead, helping his companions carve a path forward.
Seeing this, the four priests immediately slid down from the rooftops to assist Rand in defending the bridgehead.
Bratt looked at Rand and Zahir, who were locked in bitter fighting. After hesitating for a moment, he did not jump down to help.
With a shield in his left hand, he stepped in front of Anser and blocked several arrows in succession. "You do it. I'll protect you!"
Anser understood at once. He did not retreat any further, but stood in place and focused on casting.
"Sorcery Burst—Thunder"
One cast after another.
Boom, boom, boom—
Wyrm's Crossing was like a thunderstorm erupting. Nearly every half second there was a thunderous blast, drawing everyone's attention.
Occasional chained explosions could fling tall orcs into the air. The leading monsters grew fearful, their steps hesitating, triggering considerable trampling and chaos.
He had forcibly blasted open a true vacuum corridor for the humans using only cantrips.
Direct kills were few, with only scattered experience points notifications, but the intimidation effect was fully maxed out.
The price was mental overload. His head throbbed and pain swelled, and two streams of blood flowed from his nostrils.
"Watch out—"
A shrill cry and several warnings reached Anser's ears at the same time. He forcibly swallowed the second half of a spell, endured the turbulence of magic power, and crouched to evade.
Bang—
From the corner of his eye, Bratt's shield shattered like glass. His body was struck as if by a battering ram, sent flying several meters before crashing straight through a rooftop and vanishing from sight.
"Bratt!"
Anser clenched his teeth. His blood surged, and he could not describe his feelings.
He lay prone on the back slope of the roof ridge and leaned out to take a look. Zahir and the others were already boarding the bridge one after another. The priests hauled debris or furniture from the houses on both sides and hurled it at the monsters, incidentally building obstacles.
"Good."
Reassured, he bent down and jumped to another rooftop, then lay flat and looked down through a broken hole.
Bratt was struggling to get up. A javelin with only the head remaining was embedded in the half-plate over his chest. There was no visible bleeding, but blood was continuously seeping from his facial features.
Anser was overjoyed and hurriedly flipped down.
Blood flowed from Bratt's mouth and nose. His face was flushed, and he was already unable to speak. His gaze fell on Anser, revealing a trace of delight.
"Don't move."
Anser propped up his head with his leg, pulled out that bottle of healing potion from his chest, and poured the whole thing into his mouth in one go.
There was no time to check the effect. After examining the injuries, he found that the javelin had been just barely stopped by the half-plate. The external wounds were not serious; the damage was all internal.
"Take it off first." He drew a dagger from his backpack, cut the straps, released the clasps, and somewhat roughly removed the half-plate.
This kind of armor was very heavy. It easily pressed on fractured areas and caused secondary injury, and if it was too heavy, he could not support Bratt himself.
"Let's go. We can't delay."
Just as he helped Bratt to his feet, there was a loud crash as the door was kicked open from outside.
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