Mages Are Too OP

Chapter 584 The Tragedy of the Great Elder

Morton had never seen such a fearsome breed.

…Not afraid of death and unable to die.

And they had a strange obsession with killing their enemies.

Even till now, he hadn’t understood why these people had suddenly attacked him.

It was clear that he had just teleported to this city, and then the whole city rioted.

It seemed that every one of them thought he was their enemy.

Morton kept flying ahead, followed by one of those weird flying magical machines on his left, right, and behind him.

He didn’t understand why his Mage’s Disjunction didn’t work on the flying machine when it was clear that the fully magically equipped Golden Son had become naked straightaway.

It didn’t make sense.

He became more and more puzzled, and at the same time more and more impatient and restless inside.

Dimensional Anchor scrolls kept unfolding to his left and right.

Due to the harassment of those flying machines, his flying speed dropped significantly.

SY.

The flight magic, which wasn’t fast to begin with, was slowed to the speed of a turtle, and even the Golden Sons on the ground were tailing closely behind him.

A large group of Archers ran swiftly while shooting a volley of arrows at him.

At this time, however, there were no more spells attacking him.

Because most of the Mages amongst the Golden Sons weren’t strong enough. They were not as physically durable as the Warriors and Archers, and they didn’t know flight magic, so they couldn’t keep up with the large group. Morton turned back and fired another air cannonball.

Because of Dimensional Anchor’s restriction, all of his strongest abilities could not be used at all for now.

He could only use some simple spells.

As a result, this wind-based spell, air cannonball, still didn’t hit the enemy.

Instead, his speed was temporarily slowed for a few more seconds by the casting of the spell, and a volley of arrows came raining down on his head.

He flew forward with all his effort, avoiding most of the arrows, but was still hit by hundreds of them.

The Golden Sons were too good at focused fire.

The ripples in the Magic Shield were increasing after the hit, a sign that the strength of the Magic Shield was decreasing. He looked back at the ground and found himself followed by a long, black stream of people.

This stream of people spread from the far horizon of Wetland City, as if it were a terrifying magical tentacle reaching out from the city.

… Trying to reel him back in.

“All of them are crazy,” Morton spat in annoyance. He gritted his teeth and planned to unleash another group attack spell.

For example, a cold ice tornado or something of the sort.

However, he soon gave up on this thought.

One group attack spell would at most kill three or four hundred Golden Sons.

But the terrifying stream of people below consisted of at least 40,000 people, and how many large-scale spells would he have to cast to kill them all?

It wasn’t as though large-scale group attack spells didn’t require magic power.

He flew forward desperately, and at the same time secretly swore in his heart: When I go back, I must find a way to get rid of this Wetland City. These Golden Sons must never gather together. After they swarm, they’re too terrifying. He simply flew forward and didn’t intend to counterattack.

He had to save enough magic power to support the Magic Shield, as well as to fly.

Legendary Mages had a lot of magic power, but it wasn’t unlimited.

He was under attack from the flying machines behind him, and those running Archers on the ground, who now fired an arrow or two from time to time, were terribly accurate. Out of ten arrows, at least five could hit him. His magic power was decreasing at a fairly rapid rate.

He thought to use his endurance to shake off these Golden Sons.

Then… after half an hour, not to mention the flying magic machines, a large group of people even followed on the ground. He then took a closer look and found that these people all had mounts.

Almost every single person had a steed.

By now Morton was a little tired.

And those Golden Sons were still shrieking spiritedly.

After another half-hour, he still didn’t lose these Golden Sons, and even the distance between them was closing

It was clear that the Golden Sons seemed to have more endurance than Morton.

But this was just an illusion, mainly because Morton was under such constant attack.

His magic power had to be fully used to maintain his shield and flight.

At this point, Morton already felt some fear, and his mind was racing, thinking about how he should escape from the pursuit of these Golden Sons.

Many plans formed in his mind and were quickly rejected.

Suddenly, he saw a city appear on the horizon ahead.

His eyes lit up; if he flew into the city, the Golden Sons who prided themselves on their righteousness and goodness would probably have regard for the lives of the civilians in the city and wouldn’t attack indiscriminately. He immediately lowered his flying altitude, intending to escape to the middle of the city with the shortest distance.

Then the lowering of his altitude immediately gave certain people the opportunity to take advantage of it.

At least fifty nets were cast.

All these nets were large and made of iron.

They reflected a cold metallic sheen in the sunlight.

Many thieves and hunters who could cast nets had been involved in the siege of the vampires over a year ago, when they used straw-rope nets, which were tough and nearly impossible for ordinary people to escape, but not too hard for vampires to tear.

At that time, although the net could hit the low-flying vampires, soon the vampires would break free, resulting in poor crowd control.

So since that time, many players began to improve the production technology of cast nets.

Eventually wire nets were produced, and even some magic materials were added into them, substantially strengthening the toughness of the nets.

Of these fifty or so wire nets, thirteen of them actually hit Morton.

They Instantly wrapped him into a wire ball.

IT 0

Because of the Magic Shield still being in place, these wire nets naturally couldn’t be tied to his body, but with a dozen or so nets on top of him

—at least five kilograms or so per net-and suddenly having about eighty kilograms more weight to carry, his flight speed not only slowed down, but his flight altitude dropped further.

Damn!

Through the Magic Shield, Morton saw that his vision was blocked by a thick layer of wire nets, and he could no longer distinguish his direction.

Flying slower and lower attracted more cast net attacks.

In less than ten seconds, he had another twenty or so nets over his body.

He was no longer a ball of wire but a cocoon of wire.

The kind where you couldn’t even see the man inside.

“Get him, get him!”

The players running on the ground yelled.

At that moment, a plane climbed up above Morton’s head and then came crashing down almost vertically with the force of gravity.

The plane was obviously an old propeller plane, but with potential energy acceleration, it almost flew at the speed of an old jet.

Then the human-powered plane directly hit Morton at a bold angle.

The pilot of the plane didn’t have a parachute, and the two people who hung on the wings also didn’t jump away. The three of them used their own weight to add more potential impact to the plane.

The plane whistled down and hit Morton, who was flying slower and slower. The moment it hit, the plane fell apart, splattering wood all over the sky. The momentum transferred, and Morton was sent crashing to the ground like a discharged cannonball.

The three players crashed to the ground amidst the wood debris in the sky, immediately becoming three masses of pixels that were hard to look at.

Morton was still alive, his Magic Shield softening the vast majority of the impact of the fall for him. He struggled to his feet, which would have been hard for anyone with thirty or forty cast nets over the outside of their Magic Shield and a total weight of at least two hundred kilograms of external weight pressing down on them.

Yet, Morton still stood up.

It was hard.

He couldn’t see what was outside the shield, but he could use his mental power to probe the surroundings. A dense sea of people was rapidly approaching, and there were already people surrounding him. The Summoner girls whose mounts ran fast could maneuver much quicker than most of the players.

I can’t escape?

The thought flashed through Morton’s mind as he looked at the cast nets outside his Magic Shield.

Then a profound fear arose in his heart.

Everyone was afraid of death, and so was Morton.

He could not see outside but shouted anyway. “I am the Great Elder of the Spatial Magic Tower. If you let me go, I will…”

Before he finished bribing, he felt a heavy blow to the head.

It was a good thing the Magic Shield was in the way, so he didn’t take much damage.

However, cracks appeared on the outer layer of the Magic Shield.

Now Morton was even more anxious. “Listen to me, I can really give you a lot of money, a lot of money!”

Then what he heard in his ears was the excited, charging roar of the Golden Sons.

Cracks in the Magic Shield had grown to the front and back.

Morton took a deep breath and said, “Ten gold coins per person.” “Who the hell will believe you!”

If there was some hesitation a moment ago, the players were all indignant now.

There were at least thirty to forty thousand players in Wetland City.

Ten gold coins per person was a rich reward of three or four hundred thousand.

No one thought Morton could get this amount of money simply because it was just too much.

Then came the players’ frenzied attacks.

After a few people had attacked at a close range, the cast net on Morton had been cut away so much that he could already see ahead.

A dense sea of people, and all these Golden Sons were looking at him with smiling eyes.

It was like some of the nobles who were into men he had seen as a child.

“A Mage has to die like a gentleman.” Morton looked at the players swarming around in despair. “But don’t you all even think about meeting a good end.”

Half an hour later, the forum was flooded with posts of gratitude to Roland.

The content was much the same.

“I didn’t expect that this boss that spawned was actually the final boss to be defeated in some epic quest. Who got it here?” “Who else could it be but Roland?”

“Doesn’t Roland have a white cat now? Let’s drag the black cat away.”

“Now that the big boss has been executed, the next thing to watch is the progress of those players who’ve crossed the ocean.” “The boss actually self-destructed, how troublesome.”

Morton didn’t bring much out, so the players didn’t find anything of value, but the good thing was that this was related to the epic quest, so even if they wasted most of their Dimensional Anchor scrolls, they felt it was worth it.

At this time, outside of Tebesia, a small square-shaped gathering area had been built.

More than three hundred fire feces Warlocks were ready to go.