Abe the Wizard

There were still a lot of arrows coming from the back. Abel knew that if he was hit by all of them, he would’ve been skewered. Twenty-two of them had already pierced through his black armor. His skin was already starting to feel the sting.

The arrows were aimed at his heart. If they actually went through it, he might just die on the spot. There wouldn’t even be a chance for him to take any potions.

Abel was sort of in trouble here. Luckily, he and Black Wind were teleported away from Tristram to the bright red teleportal portal. He felt a lot better all of a sudden. He didn’t know why his power of the Will was so strange back then. He wasn’t sure what the feeling he experienced was. He had never been so close to death. Maybe his power of the Will had a “sudden breakthrough.” It’s quite common for high-tier knights. Once they’ve experienced it, their power of the will would often be much stronger in a short period of time.

Abel grabbed the arrow that was at his stomach. He had to make sure that he was taking it out properly. After cutting the part that was outside, he was supposed to take off his armor and cut around the part that the tip went into. That way, he could take out the entire arrow while making the cut as clean as possible.

He didn’t do that, though. Instead, he grabbed the arrow with his right hand and pulled the whole arrow, exhaling with difficulty. The pain was unbearable. He almost suffocated from it. The blood came out like a stream. The improper handling of his wound just made it bigger and more severe.

It might seem unbelievable, but Abel knew what he was doing. With a scan of his power of the Will, he quickly took out a “full recovery potion” from his self-recovery belt. In an instance, the wounds in his vital organs, skin, and muscles all vanished. Even his old scars were gone because of it.

Abel took off his clothes after his armor. He knew how strong the “full recovery potion” was, but to feel its effect was, really, more than what he could imagine. If he didn’t see it with his own eyes, he would never believe that he could escape death like this.

If Black Wind was a bit slower in Tristram just then, he wouldn’t be breathing now. Those hell creatures were nothing like he had seen before. They must be at a higher level than his level as a knight. If they weren’t, there was no way that they could break through his multiple layers of defense.

And those night clans. Every one of them could give him a hard time. Night clans were supposed to be “ordinary” spawns, but he was completely on the passive end when he was facing them. If he had encountered a golden night clan instead, he would probably be dead by now.

Abel decided to check on how Black Wind was doing. Fortunately, since most of the hell creatures were targeting him, there was only a small piece of wound that it took. It could recover on its own, but he decided not to be stingy with his “full recovery potion.” They were out of danger now, after all.

Just as Black Wind was licking its wound, it suddenly realized that the wound was completely gone. Since Abel just emptied his bottle of the “full-recovery potion,” all the scars and injury disappeared from its body.

Abel noticed something. He didn’t close the teleportation circle when he traveled through it. It’d be big trouble if those hell creatures rushed out of Tristram. When he looked back, though, Flying Flame was already guarding at the portal. It knew how hurt its master was, so it took the role of being his guard.

What about the crows? Abel was getting worried for a second. Crows were meant to be immortal, but that was only in a symbolic sense. When he tried to contact them with his druid spirit, they quickly flew out of the teleportation circle. Their feathers were very messy. Luckily, none of them were dead.

After waiting for a while, he realized that those hell creatures would never enter into an area outside of their own. Maybe that’s just how the rules were. If the hell creatures were supposed to spawn at, say, Cold Plain, they would never take any step into Blood Moor. He wouldn’t have to worry that the night clans would come out of Tristram to go after him.

He decided to come back when he was at a much higher level than where he was now. For now, there was nothing better to do than to take a rest at the Rogue’s Encampment. He had to fix his broken black armor first. Actually, maybe he could do it with the snake’s self-recovery belt. But first

“Let’s go for another battle!” Abel called out to Black Wind and Flying Flame. He did have twenty-something soul potions right now, but they were mostly for himself. He needed some more to improve the ranks of his summoned creatures. Besides, he was a little triggered after being so badly hurt in Tristram. He hoped that killing a few more hell creatures could get him in a better mood.

After walking through the bushes for five minutes, he saw six to seven hundred carvers that were all gathered in one camp. The five crows were the first to rush in. When they flew in to disrupt the army, they all began to notice him and his squad of summoned creatures.

Flying Flame was getting excited to fight this many enemies. It’s the first time that it had been in a fight of this scale. It quickly flew above the army, and before they could do anything to respond, it opened its large mouth and did a “dragon’s roar” at them. To its surprise, however, a dragon’s roar was not very effective against hell creatures. It was nothing more than a reptile’s loud scream to them.

Flying Flame felt embarrassed by that. In shame and frustration, it launched out a white flame that destroyed everything in its path. Whether it was the trees, the wooden frames that were used to build the camps, the tents, or the carvers that were in the way, they were all incinerated into particles.

When Flying Flame prepared for a second flame ball, it realized that the surviving enemies were already scattering to escape. It felt offended by that. The presence of a dragon was supposed to be more frightening than seeing your fellow soldiers die. These carvers weren’t paying much “respect” when they showed a reaction to its usually-devastating roar.

Instead of wasting its flame ball, Flying Flame flew lower to kill the fleeing carvers with its claws. When the carvers tried to throw a large fireball at it, it just caught it with its claw and threw it at another one of them. Abel was watching the whole time. He really started to understand how broken dragons were in a battle.