"Stop!"
Asa shouted almost simultaneously.
His dragon medallion was vibrating; there must be a magical construct nearby.
The caravan immediately pulled on their reins; after spending these days together, everyone had developed an almost blind trust in this Wizard.
Asa conjured a detection magic and cast it towards the hills on both sides of the path. Before the magical halo could even land, a harsh screech echoed from the mountaintop.
"Ghouls!"
Someone familiar with them in the caravan cried out.
"Ordinary Ghouls wouldn't set an ambush; it must be a Greater Ghoul."
Asa corrected them.
No sooner had he spoken than a Greater Ghoul, fully two or three times the size of an ordinary Ghoul, lunged out from the bushes. It crawled on all fours, using the shrubbery as cover to sprint at full speed toward the caravan.
Following behind it were over twenty normal-sized Ghouls, which fanned out along the sides of the hills, attempting to surround and trap the entire caravan in the middle of the road.
Sure enough, ordinary Ghouls wouldn't know how to set an ambush. Under the leadership of a Greater Ghoul, these carrion creatures experience a brief increase in intelligence, allowing them to learn simple tactics like flanking and ambushing. Unfortunately, in Asa eyes, this number was simply not enough.
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, skipping the incantation phase entirely.
Suddenly, a flaming head appeared in the void, formed purely of raging fire. Its outline resembled a giggling child, and three tiny fireballs circled around the head, spinning slowly on their own.
As soon as the flaming head appeared, a scorching heatwave swept across the entire path. The Ghouls' momentum visibly stalled, and a few of the smallest ones turned around and dove into the bushes without hesitation.
The three circling fireballs left the flaming head first, transforming into three meteors that each chased down a fleeing small Ghoul, instantly turning their targets into three explosive fireballs, leaving not even ashes behind.
The flaming head itself locked directly onto the Greater Ghoul that had been charging at the front.
Seeing three of its kind burned into nothingness so effortlessly, the Greater Ghoul let out a whimper from its throat and turned to flee without hesitation.
"Hmph, trying to run?"
The flaming head would not give it a chance. Maintaining its maniacal laughing expression, the flaming head flew toward the Greater Ghoul, transforming into a cage of flames that trapped it in place. The cage then constricted, and this Greater Ghoul immediately followed in its companions' footsteps.
While the flaming head was launching its attack, some of the remaining Ghouls lunged forward, attempting to kill one or two guards.
But a caravan guard could still hold their own against an ordinary Ghoul, resulting in a stalemate that gave others an opening.
With the death of the Greater Ghoul and many of its minions, the flaming head freed itself up. Three flames flew toward the Ghouls currently locked in combat, while the head itself wove through the battlefield.
Before long, the Ghouls that had set the ambush were all wiped out, with not a single survivor.
Generally speaking, these Ghouls might leave behind some alchemical ingredients, but under the influence of fire magic...
They all turned to ash.
The Caravan Master scrambled over to Asa, saying tearfully:
"Mr. Wizard, thank you so much. If it weren't for you, I'm afraid we would have suffered heavy casualties."
Thinking of this, with over twenty Ghouls plus one Greater Ghoul, and only ten guards, if he hadn't decided on a whim to bring a Wizard along this time, it was uncertain whether they could have made it out of this valley alive.
Since when did these beasts learn to set ambushes?
"This is a small token of gratitude, please accept it."
The Caravan Master hurriedly handed over krowns as payment.
Asa was riding on Grape's back, weighing the purse handed over by the Caravan Master. Just as he was about to say something, the dragon medallion on his chest began to vibrate violently without warning.
The air behind him split open in an instant, and a longsword slid out silently, its tip pointing straight at his lower back.
An ambush!
The attacker had clearly practiced this countless times. The battle had just ended, everyone's guards were still down, the employer and guards were surrounding the Wizard with profuse thanks, and the target in the center was just about to respond; at this moment, there could be no defense.
This sword strike could not miss.
However, the moment the attacker thrust the blade, he looked as if he had seen a ghost.
He saw the Wizard turn his head slightly and glance over, his deep black eyes carrying a hint of a smile, as if to say, "I've been waiting until the flowers withered."
It must be an illusion.
I will win!
The longsword in his hand had been thrust to its limit, but what came back was not the dull sound of flesh being pierced.
Clang!
The tip of the sword felt like it had struck a steel plate, failing to penetrate even an inch.
"What kind of joke is this!"
The attacker was terrified, his eyes widening in horror.
The invisibility magic on his body dissipated in response, and his entire outline tumbled out from the void, falling to the ground from a height.
"It's you."
Asa recognized that shiny bald head and the bearded face beneath it.
The Witcher of the Cat School he had encountered in the market a few days ago was the very person before him.
Having failed his strike, the bald man's steel sword had actually had its tip shattered by the force of the rebound.
After stumbling to the ground, he turned and ran without hesitation. There was no time to think about how his weapon had shattered; there were still a dozen guards around the Wizard, and if they surrounded him, it would all be over.
Asa did not give him a chance to take a second step.
The afternoon sun was bright, and the shadow of Asa riding on Grape cast diagonally across the grass.
"Wai Bi Ba Bu!"
Asa chanted an obscure spell. In the moments he was chanting, the shadow on the ground suddenly began to wriggle like a silently opening giant mouth. It detached from the horse's position and slid rapidly toward the Witcher's feet, then tightened abruptly.
The bald man's shadow was firmly clamped in place by Asa shadow, and the magical power acted on his body simultaneously; the Witcher's limbs felt as if they were filled with lead, and he could no longer move an inch.
Dark Arts, Shadow Bind.
The bald man struggled desperately, the veins on his neck bulging, but his body remained motionless.
He widened his eyes and looked up at the Wizard on horseback, his voice finally carrying uncontrollable fear:
"Dark Arts? How do you know them? Aren't you an orthodox Sorcerer from Thanedd Island?"
Among the spells explicitly forbidden by the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, Shadow magic was prominently listed; this was something every Wizard had to memorize in their first year of joining.
Including Object Transfiguration, the Necronomicon, Necromancy, and so on, all of which were forbidden magic.
Of course, the prohibition was written for lower-level Sorcerers.
Among the high-ranking Sorcerers, who didn't have a few forbidden techniques up their sleeves? It was just that no one ever brought such things into the open in front of ordinary people.
For example, Francesca Findabair; that person might just want to use object transfiguration to turn him into a massage wand.
Asa shifted his gaze from the Witcher to the shivering caravan members nearby.
He had accidentally exposed his secret; how should he deal with these people?