Chapter 37: Stereotypes of Mages

After eliminating one target, the Teutonic Knights' assault grew even fiercer. Following this, they paid a heavy price—four armored knights fell, and nearly half of the knight squires perished—before finally destroying all the knight squires and toppling another Gard Knight.

Through Morin’s telescope, the fallen armored knight was soon surrounded by three Teutonic Knights. With war hammers and battle axes glowing with a magical aura, they struck relentlessly, smashing its limbs and front armor one blow after another...

This was the brutal reality of combat between armored knights—a merciless fight to the death.

At present, only two armored knights from the Gard Knight Order remained, struggling to hold their ground. They fought while retreating, their intention to break through the encirclement clear as they aimed for its weakest point.

But Ludwig, who had already gained the upper hand, was not about to let the chance to annihilate them slip away. Brandishing his weapon, he charged forward. The other armored knights, witnessing his move, surged forward in pursuit, determined to trap these last two prey.

Just as the Teutonic Knights were on the verge of a decisive victory in this ‘hunt,’ a figure clad in the robes of a high mage suddenly descended swiftly from the distant sky.

The figure abruptly halted midair above the battlefield in a manner that defied the laws of physics, gazing down imperiously upon everything below.

Seeing this, Morin was seized by a strong sense of foreboding.

At that moment, the system’s alert sounded—a sharp, piercing alarm.

[Holy Britannian Empire Highland Mage Corps: Senior Tutor—Eldridge]

This was the highland mage Morin had almost locked eyes with during his forward reconnaissance!

Morin knew well that this person’s sudden appearance here could mean only one thing: support for the Gard Knights’ armored knights.

As Morin pondered what this mysterious highland mage intended, Eldridge slowly raised both hands, making a downward pressing gesture while chanting an arcane incantation.

Then, he pointed remotely at the ground beneath the pursuing Teutonic Knights.

[Level 5 Spell—Transmute Rock]

Instantly, a sudden and drastic change occurred!

The scorched earth beneath the Teutonic Knights seemed to turn into a shifting swamp.

Large swathes of land rapidly softened and liquefied, becoming a muddy quagmire that had no place here.

The heavily armored knights, each weighing over ten tons, and the power-armored knight squires suddenly lost their footing, their massive forms sinking uncontrollably into the mire.

“Damn it!” Ludwig’s furious roar echoed inside his cockpit. He struggled desperately to maneuver his mount free from the mud, but the engine’s frantic roar only hastened their sinking.

Within mere seconds, the situation on the battlefield was completely reversed.

The two surviving Gard Knight armored knights, initially hesitant, now, at Eldridge’s pointed gesture towards Seville, turned without hesitation and swiftly retreated from the area.

Morin gazed up at the godlike figure in the sky, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness as if utterly beaten by idealism.

So these were the high-level spellcasters of this world?

With a mere gesture, they could alter terrain and sway the outcome of a localized battle...

And with the presence of these armored knights, what chance did the pitiful infantry stand? They were nothing but cannon fodder.

Morin’s mind raced, and an urgent thought flashed through him.

No! He must not allow the mage to continue casting!

He was keenly aware of how vital these Teutonic armored knights were to their Saxon infantry. If all of these armored knights were lost here, the infantry would face disaster.

Morin glanced at the system map and saw that beside the mage’s special unit emblem was a line of information and a shield icon.

[Status: Casting in progress, can be interrupted]

[Mage Armor—Current Durability: 100%]

“That’s more like it. There must be a weakness. How could it be otherwise...” Morin muttered.

“Mages have had it too easy for too long, casually casting spells above the battlefield. What were infantry so afraid of in the past to let mages run free like this...”

Seeing this information, Morin felt reassured. After all, if a mage’s casting was uninterruptible, that would be far too unfair.

“Third platoon! Everyone, target the mage in the sky! Open fire! Shoot freely!”

Morin shouted his orders to his soldiers.

The soldiers lying in the high ground were momentarily stunned but quickly responded, adopting prone firing positions and aiming at the figure more than three hundred meters above.

“Bang!”

With Morin firing first, dozens of Gew.98 rifles simultaneously spat fire.

The dense gunfire shattered the brief silence over the highlands.

Morin’s action ignited the fuse.

The international brigade soldiers beside him also caught on quickly.

Everyone understood they could not allow this mage to destroy their armored knights unchallenged. Under the command of the bearded officer, they all raised their rifles and fired.

Soon after, Major Thomas, commander of the 1st Battalion, along with Captain Hauser and other officers, responded. All three hundred remaining combat soldiers in the battalion turned their barrels skyward.

A firestorm of hundreds of rifles rained down on Eldridge.

Although hitting a human-sized target at over three hundred meters posed a challenge for mechanical sights, affecting accuracy, the sheer volume of fire produced a transformative effect: many bullets found their mark.

A transparent shield rippled around Eldridge—his Mage Armor at work.

He had intended to maintain his spell, to bury those damned Teutonic Knights and secure a tactical victory, turning it into strategic advantage.

But the relentless assault of full-power 7.92mm rounds cracked the shield further and further.

Eldridge’s expression darkened. Mage Armor was not invincible; it was essentially a first-level spell.

Though cast at his level, the protective threshold was far higher than that of lower-level mages, it was still limited.

Years ago, as an apprentice studying at the Scottish Mage Tower, he had heard the elders’ warnings during class:

“While we can easily handle mortal soldiers, never attempt to confront firearms with mere flesh, nor believe that a protective spell renders you immune to gunfire.”

The most famous case was over twenty years prior, when a highland archmage faced enemy artillery with Mage Armor—and was shattered along with his shield.

Yet in Eldridge’s previous colonial battles, his mere presence on the battlefield had often sent mortal soldiers fleeing in terror, let alone attacking him.

Today, however, that belief was shattered by the Saxon soldiers’ assault.

He had never imagined these mortal foot soldiers, whom he regarded as insignificant as ants, could threaten him in such a way.

Finally, just before the shield collapsed, he was forced to cease casting and began evasive maneuvers in midair.

The mud below rapidly re-solidified, but half of the Teutonic Knights’ bodies were trapped, unable to move.

Eldridge glared venomously at the infantry still firing below, preparing to unleash other spells stored in his spell slots to make these ants regret shooting at him.

But the white signal flare rising from the Seville district abruptly interrupted his action.

It was the allied forces’ retreat signal...

“Worthless fools!” Eldridge cursed, finally casting a Shield spell to protect himself, then turned and fled toward Seville without looking back.