Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

The warrior named Edric looked at Lance and his group, his gaze lingering on Lance for a second before he spoke.

"These four are just adventurers from Rild City, and their strength should be inferior to ours. The strength of the two half-elves is unknown."

His expression was indifferent, his eyes calm, as if he were assessing a flock of lambs to the slaughter.

"But judging from his age and equipment, he's not a particularly formidable character."

His gaze swept over Lance's clothes—an ordinary dark gray travel robe, made of plain material, without any family crest or other markings.

Then I looked at Sielsa—she was dressed in brown leather armor, carrying a scimitar and a short bow, a typical outfit for an ordinary ranger, probably only level one or two.

"Ha, you newbie."

"They must be adventurers on a quest; we can't let anyone know we're here..."

He paused, a cold smile curling at the corner of his lips.

"Get rid of them."

"Yes!" the other four replied.

The voices were crisp and decisive, without the slightest hesitation, as if killing to silence witnesses was just a routine operation for them.

The two level 7 warriors—Vald Lulu and Edric Ironshield—gripped their two-handed greatswords, their muscles tense, ready to charge.

The level 6 wanderer, Grell Wuhen, took a step back, his figure beginning to blur—entering stealth mode.

The level 6 archer, Celine Windseeker, had already drawn her longbow, the arrow tip aimed at Finn's forehead.

With a wave of his hand, the level 6 ranger Cohen the Hunter summoned the gray hound beside him, which bared its fangs and let out a low growl.

Drucker gripped his battle axe tightly, his beard trembling with rage: "You son of a bitch—"

Before he could finish speaking, the warrior named Wald had already moved.

The level 7 warrior was incredibly fast—he pushed off with his legs, the rubble beneath his feet exploded, and he charged forward like a cannonball!

OK, they're enemies, not friends. Lance has made his judgment.

There's not even a need to say another word.

Lance's lips curled up slightly.

"To silence them?"

"What a coincidence, I just leveled up to level 5 and don't have any experience to learn third-level spells yet."

[Secondary Spirit Bomb!]

An energy ball flew from Lance's palm, trailing a bright blue streak, tracing a graceful arc in the air.

The target is that level 7 warrior named Vald—because he's currently at the forefront and poses the greatest threat.

Wald reacted quickly.

After all, he was a level 7 warrior, and his fighting instincts were ingrained in his bones.

The moment Lance raised his hand, he sensed something was wrong and immediately raised his two-handed greatsword in front of him while dodging to the side.

But his movements were still too slow.

The blue energy ball changed direction in mid-air and struck Vald's blade.

"boom--!"

The explosion was deafening.

Wald's sword was of such good quality that it only bent instead of breaking after being hit.

Wald suffered considerable damage from the aftershocks, but he still retained some of his combat strength.

He gripped the curved greatsword tightly with both hands and swung it in a wide arc, aiming straight at Durac!

Dulac raised his shield to block.

"clang--!!!"

The deafening clang of metal colliding was deafening, and sparks flew everywhere.

Drak was slid three meters backward by the blow, his feet carving two deep furrows in the gravel.

A deep dent was left on the shield, and the edges were curled up.

"Level 7..." He gritted his teeth, his arm trembling, his hand on his hand split open, blood trickling down the edge of the shield.

"That's incredibly powerful..."

The wanderer named Grell vanished the instant Vald charged out—entering stealth mode.

[Rogue's core ability - Stealth: In shadows or complex terrain, the rogue can enter an invisible state, making them extremely difficult to detect unless they actively attack or are exposed to light.]

Grell's level 6 stealth ability allowed him to blend almost seamlessly into the surrounding shadows of the trees.

Celine's arrow pierced the air, aiming straight for Finn's face!

The arrow was incredibly fast, spinning in the air and creating a sharp whistling sound.

Finn's pupils contracted slightly, and his body instinctively leaned to the left—the arrow grazed his cheek, leaving a bloody mark, and a few strands of golden hair fell down.

He shot the arrow back with a backhand motion, the movement so fluid and effortless that it seemed as if he didn't need to aim.

Celine leaped down from the tree, the arrow embedded where she had just stood, its fletching trembling and buzzing.

Cohen waved his hand, and the gray hound barked and pounced on Greta.

The hound was enormous, reaching up to a person's waist at the shoulder, with bulging muscles all over its body and a gaping maw full of sharp fangs.

Cohen himself charged toward Sielsa, his hunting knife gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

It was a hunting knife made of fine steel, with a blood groove on the blade and barbs on the back, clearly a weapon specifically designed to deal with large prey.

The battle erupted instantly.

Lance stood still and did not move.

His fire and wind spirits had been summoned and were hovering over his shoulders.

The flames flickered, and a gentle breeze swirled around them.

The wanderer Grell was moving swiftly in the shadows, circling around to Lance's side and rear.

Twenty meters.

Fifteen meters.

ten meters.

Lance didn't rush to make a move. Even if the opponent got close, his shield wasn't something that a wanderer like him could easily break.

Lance planned to sabotage him.

On the other side, Cielsa and Cohen were already locked in combat.

Cohen is a level 6 ranger, wielding his hunting knife with incredible speed and power, each strike swift and deadly.

Cielsa parried with her scimitar, the sound of metal clashing rang out in rapid succession, sparks flying everywhere.

"Little girl, your knife skills are not bad." Cohen grinned maliciously, increasing the pressure in his hand. "But you're still too green—"

Before he could finish speaking, Cielsa suddenly ducked down and slid past his knife.

At the same time, she raised her hand, and orange-red flames lit up at her fingertips.

[Zero-ring spell - Fire Arrow!]

A thin line of fire shot out from his fingertip, heading straight for Cohen's face!

Cohen was startled and abruptly turned his head.

The fire grazed his ear, singeing a lock of hair, and filling the air with a burnt smell.

"You—you can use magic?!"

Cohen's voice was filled with disbelief.

He spent twenty years as a wandering knight-errant, yet he never learned a single spell.

This young girl has already learned magic.

and……

"Aren't you a ranger? Why did you cast a [Fire Arrow] spell?!"

Sissa did not answer.

She had already created some distance, her scimitar held horizontally in front of her, her purple eyes filled with calm.

Rangers fight differently from warriors; they excel at combat on the move, using terrain and distance to wear down their enemies. Although Cielsa had only recently become a ranger, her innate fighting instincts led her to instinctively choose the correct tactics.

"Ranger against ranger," she said calmly. "Your level is higher, but I have magic."

Cohen's expression changed.

He realized something was wrong—this seemingly delicate half-elf girl was far more troublesome than he had imagined.