Anser focused and cast again. Another three glowing missiles burst forth, and their keening made the werewolf's movements come to an abrupt halt as he raised his hand to protect his vital points.
He had no choice but to dodge. Force damage was far more terrifying than piercing or bludgeoning damage; getting hit in a vital spot was no joke.
After tanking one hit head-on, he had not even had time to breathe a sigh of relief when another whistling sound came from beside his ear.
He wanted to dodge into the wooden building nearby, but the owlbear blocked him, costing him the chance.
"Awoooo—"
The shrill keening blended into one continuous stream. One wave had barely arrived before the next rose again, with almost no interval between them. Glowing missiles came one after another without end.
Anser floated in midair, his formalwear flapping loudly, maintaining an unprecedented level of concentration. His Draconic never stopped.
He used only 1st-level Magic Missile, with no Metamagic and no upcasting, casting it over and over at the fastest speed possible, as steady as a machine.
Three shots, four shots, five shots, six shots...
The werewolf leader dodged in a miserable state, yet he could never escape Magic Missile's lock-on.
He looked up at Anser's indifferent expression, his heart growing heavy. The pressure was intense, and an inexplicable panic rose inside him.
Whoosh—
A minute meteor fell at high speed, forcing the werewolf leader back.
Iris and Karisha worked together to keep the werewolf leader pinned down, not allowing him to enter a room to hide, forcing him to endure the Magic Missiles head-on.
The werewolf leader wanted to slaughter the guards, but the dense barrage of missiles kept him so suppressed that he could hardly lift his head. With an owlbear glued to his side the whole time, he had no attention to spare for anything else. He could only wave around a door panel torn off at random or a shield snatched on the spot to block, yet only occasionally could he knock aside a few missiles.
That was because Magic Missile could curve around obstacles or cover. Unless he had full-body cover, the only way to stop them was to rely on reflexes and actively smash the missiles aside with a shield, which was far too difficult.
In just a few dozen seconds, the werewolf leader had already taken twenty or thirty glowing missiles. His entire body was covered in blood, and patches of fur had fallen away, making him look like he had patchy baldness—ugly and bloody.
And the missile air raid from overhead was still continuing, without even the slightest change in rhythm.
At last, the werewolf leader was afraid. He did not know whether he could hold out until the other side's Magic Power was exhausted, but this missile storm, like death by a thousand cuts, was simply too painful.
He turned and ran, faster than a warhorse, yet still not faster than Fly boosted by the air element.
Anser stayed directly above him the whole time, his Magic Missiles as steady as ever.
Casting 3rd- or 4th-level spells while flying at high speed might have been a little difficult, but 1st-level spells were too simple for him. This was instinct brought by innate magic and various Feats.
Twelve shots, thirteen shots, fourteen shots...
As the werewolf leader fled, he would occasionally rush into houses to hide, but he did not dare stay there. Aside from the owlbear chasing him, there were also more and more adventurers gathering nearby.
His earlier arrogance had merely been an act of venting after his plan had fallen apart. He did not dare truly remain in Durlag. Slaughtering one or two hundred guards would not be difficult, but facing one or two hundred crafty adventurers head-on would be courting death.
Those adventurers would use every possible means.
But the situation he had expected had not yet happened. A little Sorcerer he had looked down on had already driven him into a mental collapse.
He had been confident he could dodge Fireball, yet he had never expected to be beaten into fleeing with his head in his hands by 1st-level Magic Missile. Years ago, when he encountered Stoll, he had still managed to escape. Now, however, he had a very bad feeling.
The city gate was right ahead, yet his steps grew heavier and heavier. His body was riddled with holes, leaving a trail of blood behind, and even his self-healing ability could not hold back the life force draining away like water.
Whoosh—
A minute meteor came screaming down. His movements had grown sluggish; the half of a door panel above his head was blasted apart, and his body was flung away as well.
The glowing missiles came at him. He raised his arms to shield his head and face, letting the missiles strike his chest, abdomen, and waist.
Bang, bang, bang!
One of the missiles broke through his ruined belly and shot into his abdominal cavity, blasting his stomach outward before it deflated again.
He roared in pain and rolled over to get back up, only for the owlbear to arrive just then and slam him to the ground with one claw, sending the shield in his hand flying away.
"Roar—" The owlbear let out an angry roar, its voice full of delight.
In the air, the three glowing missiles shifted slightly in direction and tracked after him, hitting almost simultaneously.
The werewolf leader still had not given up. Staggering, he climbed back to his feet, looked at the city gate dozens of meters away, and threw back his head with a wolf howl.
Immediately, wolf howls rose one after another from outside the city, as though answering him.
Hearing them, the owlbear leapt and blocked the city gate.
Anser, meanwhile, remained unmoved, and wave after wave of Magic Missiles shot out from his fingertips.
The werewolf leader's body shuddered from the impacts. He staggered forward for dozens of meters, then finally collapsed headfirst in front of the city gate, his eyes empty.
As another volley of missiles descended—he no longer knew whether it was the twenty-somethingth—his body twitched a few times and then fell still. Blood flowed along the ancient stone slabs, filling several cracks and spreading outward.
[Target dead. Gained 4,130 experience points.]
'That's it? I was only just starting to exert myself.'
Anser stopped casting, raised a hand to tidy his disheveled hair, and felt the urge to throw back his head and laugh wildly.
But there were too many people around. He forcibly restrained himself, though the corners of his mouth still curled absurdly high.
Still, he also knew that Iris's and Karisha's assistance had been crucial. If the werewolf had hidden in a house or among the crowd, dealing with him might have become very difficult, and the casualties would have been hard to estimate.
The werewolf leader was dead, but the battle was not over.
He rose higher and looked outside the city. Not far away, among the wilderness and the woods, shadowy figures could be seen everywhere. There was no telling how many people were hiding there.
These were likely the werewolf leader's backup forces, meant to coordinate with the werewolves inside the city. But because everything had happened so suddenly, they had failed to meet up with their companions in time.
'Good thing I left part of the guards to seal the city gate.'
Anser descended and pointed at the corpse on the ground as he shouted, "Hang the werewolf leader's corpse on the flagpole for me. Guard the city gate well, and do not let anyone approach it."
"Everyone else, help the wounded. Split off some people to support the fighting in the city districts. Move, hurry—stop standing around and get moving!"
The people around him came back to their senses, their spirits greatly lifted, and under their captains' orders, they all sprang into action.
The adventurers who had been watching heard this and vaguely guessed something, then followed suit and ran off as well, each of them with shining eyes.
This new president was famous for his generosity. They could not miss the chance to earn bounty money.
Iris rode her flying carpet over to his side, concern in her eyes. "Are you alright? Sit on my flying carpet."
"I'm fine." Anser pressed at his temples. He still had a bit more than one quarter of his Magic Power left, and he felt he was still in fairly good condition.
"Then I'll go help. Be careful yourself," Iris warned him, then shot away with a whoosh.
Anser swept his gaze over the battlefield and chased after a fleeing werewolf.
Their preparations had been thorough. They had many adventurers, and they also had silver weapons. But the werewolves' combat power was very strong, and at this moment, most of the battles had not yet ended.
When desperate werewolves went mad, even elite adventurers had to retreat.
Fortunately, it was daytime, and the major guilds and adventurers inside the city had reacted quickly. Reinforcements had arrived in time, so casualties were not too severe.
Anser and Iris could fly fast and strike hard. While dealing with the werewolves, they were also able to direct the combat teams to support various locations, and before long they had stabilized the situation.
By the time evening approached, the city gradually quieted down.
One team after another of warriors and adventurers carried the wounded and the dead toward the Union. Most of them were in high spirits. Judging by the result, this had been a great victory.
More than a hundred werewolves had been killed, each one quite powerful, including the werewolf leader who had once escaped from Stoll.
Anser had originally been very happy. He had gained a large amount of experience points, reached level 8, and also eliminated a major hidden threat.
But when he saw the wounded, his mood grew heavy. He quickly had Quentin count the casualties while also treating those injured by the werewolves, including civilians.
Being scratched by a werewolf was one thing, but being bitten could very likely infect one with the curse. If they could not resist it, they would turn into werewolves.
He first used Lay on Hands to treat the severely wounded, giving priority to guards and warriors.
After that, he took out holy water and fed a mouthful to every person who had been bitten by a werewolf.
Holy water contained the blessing of positive energy. It might have some effect on curses. More importantly, he had no more effective method at hand. He could only do his best and leave the rest to fate.
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