Mage Joan

Speaking of which, Joan suddenly realized the huge gap between "theory" and "reality", and his tone shifted into a low voice.

Yes, cold iron weapons can restrain the goblin family. However, considering the high price of cold iron weapons, in this rural town, except Morrison and Fitzgerald, I am afraid that not many people have cold iron weapons. Otherwise, the "Red Hat Thieves" will not harass the Bucks repeatedly.

At this time the people in the tavern had followed Morrison to rush out of the door and went to the hillside to support the militia that was fighting the red hat thieves.

Mr. Fitzgerald slung a bullet chain and carried a shotgun to go out to the war. Before leaving, he said to Joan and Ruby: "Mr. Master, I’m so embarrassed. In an emergency, the shop has to be temporarily closed. If You and this lady have no other safer place to go, it is better to stay in the store, lock the door, and wait for me to return."

Joan heard his heart warmed and replied gratefully: "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Fitzgerald, but I know a little bit about spells, maybe I can help."

"Oh? Is Mr. Master also going to war? That's great!" The pub owner was overjoyed.

"Uncle, where does the red-hat thief come from, and how far is it from the tavern?" Ruby couldn't help interjecting, his expression eager to try.

"On the hillside to the north, the thieves always broke the fence on the hillside, broke into the pasture, and snatched the cattle and sheep." The pub owner patted his forehead. "From the pasture to my pub, it takes almost 500 yards."

"It's about 500 yards to walk, and the straight line is only about halfway away. It should be able to get there in just one transmission."

Ruby thought about it to himself, and then waved goodbye to the pub owner: "Uncle, my brother Joan and I have gone first, see you later."

She held Joan's hand and opened the "arbitrary door", the figures of the two quickly disappeared into a dazzling transmission light curtain.

The pub owner was straightened by his brilliant eyes, and waited for Joan and Ruby to completely disappear before recovering from the shock. He quickly picked up his shotgun, hurried out the door, and caught up with Morrison and others who had left first. Team rushed to the north slope.

...

The hillside backed by Bucks Town was originally a natural pasture with rich water plants, but now it is a messy scene-the corpses of cattle and sheep lying on the meadow, the blood stained with greenery.

The murderers who broke into the pastures and slaughtered cattle and sheep were a group of little monsters less than three feet tall. Their rumpled faces were full of anger, and somehow they made a nervous laugh.

These evil fairies, who looked like little old men, all wore iron boots and red cashmere pointed hats, exposed a pair of pointed ears, and wielded weapons in their hands. They were all too heavy steel scythes relative to their stature.

Down the hillside, Militia in Bucks Town had assembled.

Due to frequent harassment by beasts and goblins, the local militia not only lacked the courage, but also had sufficient actual combat experience, which is well-trained.

Under the command of the new town councilman and the head of the public security Martin Smith, the militiamen did not rush to expel the red hats that broke into the ranch. The road that broke into the town.

The slaughter of docile cattle and sheep can no longer satisfy the cruel bloodthirsty nature of the Red Hats. They screamed and cursed, carrying large sickles angrily, flying down the hillside in groups of three or five, trying to break through the militia position, Hack and kill humans as much as possible, and implant fear and despair into the souls of all Buckstown residents.

The militia stationed on the hillside immediately picked up the crossbow and fired a thick rain of arrows, preventing the evil spirits from continuing to approach.

The arrows shot on the gray skin of the red hat, like a rubber hit with elasticity, most of them were bounced away, which could not effectively kill them.

Only very few shooters equipped with cold iron arrows and militia armed with shotguns can attack the supernatural skin of the red hat and cause tangible damage.

However, the number of cold iron crossbows and shotguns is too small to contain the offensive launched by more than 30 red hats. Moreover, these little monsters with distorted characters do not know what to fear at all, but they become even more crazy after seeing blood.

In the front row of the position, Martin Smith stood behind the two militiamen holding tower shields, his eyes turned to the hillside.

Large groups of red hats are screaming and rushing down. According to this momentum, at most two minutes later, this group of monsters will rush into the militia position and start a **** slaughter.

In the year that Martin Smith returned to his hometown, he had not seen so many red hats attack at the same time, and his forehead could not help exuding cold sweat.

Today, he is no longer the former ten thousand-year-old repeater who was laughed at in the school, but the Master Master who is admired by the villagers. The young people around him expect him to stand up in a critical moment and lead everyone to fight back the evil goblin. .

This pressure is also a sense of responsibility, prompting Martin to overcome his inner fear, clenching his teeth, and focusing on casting.

"Úré!"

Singing a spell symbolizing flames, Martin raised his finger to the densest area of ​​the red hat on the hillside.

The scorching magical energy converged into a large ball of fire, bursting at the place he designated.

At least ten red hats were engulfed by the flames of "fireball", like a doll blown by a storm, screaming and falling on the hillside, throwing away their weapons, rolling in awkward ground, trying to extinguish the flames on his body.

Martin's just-fired "fireball technique" not only contained the arrogance of the goblins, but also greatly boosted his own morale. On the militia, cheers rang through the sky.

...

On the hillside, the elder in the red hat stared fiercely at Martin Smith in a white robe on the opposite position, and his wrinkled, greasy face twitched nervously.

The oldest old monster in the Red Hat group, nearly four feet tall, with a dark complexion showing a metallic luster, a long white beard, a magic sickle in hand, a pair of pointed iron boots, and a heel Spurs, jingling along the way.

"Damn mage, don't be too premature first! Hey hey~ It's your turn now!"

Elder Red Hat made a sinister grin, turned and whistled.

The four young red hats received the signal from the elders and hurriedly rushed into the bushes, and together they brought up a large oak wine barrel, and under the command of the elders, they pushed down the hillside.

The large barrel of wine rolled down the steep **** and ran straight to the lower militia camp.

"Pooh!"

The elder in the red hat spit on the ground, and his iron boots stepped forward, as fast as a gust of wind. After a while, he caught up with the wine barrel and jumped up.

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