Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Chapter 45 Slaughter

Wayne's dashing entrance was incredibly intimidating, especially the chilling killing intent he exuded with every move, which instinctively instilled a sense of fear in the Wild Dogs, these petty thieves who only roamed the streets.

However, they ultimately had a significant numerical advantage. Apart from the seven or eight people who had been killed by Wayne, they still had about twenty people left on the farm. If you include their trained vicious dogs, the number exceeded forty.

With such a large number, it would be more than enough to wipe out an entire village, let alone an individual.

A burly, bald man with a scarred face, carrying a steel knife, was probably a low-ranking member of the Wild Dog Gang. He was the first to recover from his shock, immediately grabbing one of his henchmen and shouting at him:

"Go and inform the boss that a powerful enemy has attacked us, and ask him to come and support us."

After saying this, the bald, burly man shoved the henchman aside, pointed his steel knife at Wayne, and roared:

"Don't be afraid, this bastard is just one person with a sword."

"No matter how powerful he is, with so many of us, we can drown him with just a spit from each of us."

"All of you, get him! Unleash the dogs and kill him!"

Having received their leader's order, the other members of the Wild Dog Gang seemed to have gained courage, and they all put two fingers in their mouths and whistled a series of loud whistles.

Upon hearing the whistles, the vicious dogs following them seemed to receive a command, their expressions and movements becoming even more ferocious, their eyes gleaming with malice, their mouths emitting piercing barks, as they swarmed towards Wayne.

There are about twenty of these vicious dogs. After professional training, they are not much weaker than wild wolves in terms of strength and speed.

Running at full speed, it reached Wayne in just a few seconds.

However, Wayne already had a plan for dealing with these beasts with gaping maws and drooling. As the saying goes, "a lot of fur weakens a fire," these slick, furry hounds were just torches waiting to be lit.

Before the Wild Dogs even gave the order, he had already gathered chaotic magic in his hands. When four or five of the strongest and most vicious dogs rushed in front of him, the Igni sign, which contained about a third of the magic in his body, burst forth instantly.

The orange-red flames, carrying suffocatingly high temperatures, immediately enveloped the space about ten meters in front of Wayne. Not only were the first few vicious dogs directly ignited, but some of the vicious dogs behind them were also affected.

Their glossy fur became the best accelerant, and they were ignited in the scorching flames, turning into burning torches.

The piercing barks all turned into desperate cries of death, and the stench of burnt fur quickly filled the farm.

Fire is the nemesis of all animals; no animal is unafraid of it.

Seeing that almost half of their kind had been burned to ashes by the flames, the once fierce dogs tucked their tails between their legs, scratched the ground anxiously, and dared not move forward no matter how their owner called them.

Wayne squinted, looking at the results of the sign with satisfaction. The destructive power of the Igni sign, which he had strengthened many times, could no longer be called a trick; it was no less than that of the fire spells of the warlocks.

If some warlocks were to witness this scene, they might be astonished and gape.

Meanwhile, the naive members of the Wild Dogs gang on the farm were completely terrified. As urban thugs, they had never seen a real spellcaster before, and the power of the Igni sign severely shattered their confidence.

They were a motley crew, and faced with Wayne's swift and brutal killing, several gang members were so frightened that they dropped their weapons and staggered back several steps.

He murmured:

"Wizards! Wizards! Those monsters are coming to kill us!"

The bald, burly man was surprisingly brave; Wayne's magic hadn't intimidated him. He swallowed hard, observing his men's hesitation and remembering their boss's punishment for losers. He quickly controlled his fear, steeled his resolve, and roared through gritted teeth:

"Don't be afraid, charge forward! He can only cast a spell once."

"We outnumber him; if we surround him, he's doomed."

Seeing that his men were still hesitant, he immediately threatened them:

"Think about what happened to Varus. That guy was eaten alive, not even a trace left. If you guys run away, the boss will definitely feed you to Hogg afterwards."

The bald, burly man's mention of Hogg seemed quite intimidating; upon hearing the name, the previously demoralized Wild Dogs gang members immediately rallied their courage once more.

A few simple-minded guys raised their weapons and charged at Wayne, yelling.

This time, Wayne did not choose to cast other energy-consuming signs. Instead, he cast a Quen shield on himself and faced the group charging towards him head-on.

Although the signs are more powerful, he doesn't know what kind of enemies he will encounter later, so he needs to conserve his magic power.

Wayne's first opponent was a burly, fat man, covered in fat, wearing a set of brown leather armor, and carrying a spiked club.

Perhaps because he was used to street fighting, he actually tried to use his large size to tackle Wayne, who was wielding a steel sword.

Wayne nimbly took half a step to the right, dodging the attack, and thrust his steel sword diagonally upwards into the man's throat. Using the momentum of their bodies shifting, he severed half of the man's neck.

A middle-aged man following behind him was startled by Wayne's clean and efficient movements, but he had already rushed in front of Wayne and could only instinctively raise the axe in his hand and shout as he chopped down.

Faced with this skillless attack, Wayne simply sidestepped, without even moving his feet, to avoid the trajectory of the axe blade. His steel sword mercilessly slashed down, severing the man's two arms that were gripping the axe. Then, he pulled the steel sword upwards, cutting open the man's stomach.

He fell to the ground, clutching his own internal organs, and howled in anguish.

After killing two people, Wayne shook the blood off his sword and walked a few steps toward the Wild Dogs without expression.

The third gang member who attacked used a rusty sickle. Perhaps he was a farmer by birth, because he took a different approach and bent down, trying to cut Wayne's legs with the sickle.

Little did he know that the moment he bent down, his neck was exposed.

Wayne showed no mercy. His steel sword moved even faster, and before the man's scythe could even touch his legs, the sword flashed and decapitated him.

The sprayed blood, like a fountain, splattered onto Wayne's face, and the warm sensation fueled his destructive urges.

Wayne's eyes gleamed. After slaying three people, he felt that dealing with these humans was easier than dealing with the water ghosts.

Aside from the fact that the water ghosts attacked without hesitation or fear, the biggest difference was that these rabble in front of them had never received professional training. Relying entirely on instinctive and clumsy attacks, they thought they could fight a swordsman who had undergone more than ten years of training. It was simply a joke.

Seemingly intimidated by Wayne's clean and efficient killing methods, he killed three people in less than ten seconds.

Such efficiency was incredibly impactful for these gang members who usually only knew how to extort and bully others by relying on their numbers; it even shook their reason.

Some of the gang members felt dizzy, fear gripped their hearts, and their limbs felt numb.

The bald, burly man leading the group was not intimidated by the carnage before him. He gritted his teeth and stared intently into Wayne's eyes.

As a deserter who had been on the battlefield, although he could not be considered brave, he had at least seen war and knew that a master swordsman was not much stronger than an ordinary person when facing an encirclement.

Seeing that his men were already demoralized and their morale was low, a flicker of fear and ruthlessness crossed the bald, burly man's mind. To boost morale, he raised his steel sword, gestured to a few trusted men with his eyes, and shouted:

"Hold on, come with me, the boss will be here soon."

"When that time comes, this guy is doomed. We must grind him to dust and tear him to pieces to avenge our brother."

After shouting this, the bald, burly man steeled himself, grabbed his weapon, and led the charge towards Wayne.

(End of this chapter)