Pure white flames spewed forward in a 10-meter range, forming a 60-degree cone, centered around Garrett Nordmark's outstretched right palm. The eruption to impact took just a moment, not even a full second.
As Gordon Knight approached, he showed no reaction, allowing his face to be bathed in the scorching white flames. The 1st-level priest of the god of nature, a low-level opponent in the eyes of a 9th-level knight like Gordon, seemed like a joke. Gordon, confident in his superiority, made no effort to guard against the oncoming attack.
Then, the flames surgedbright, dark. In an instant, Gordon Knight lost his sight. He couldn't see the small priest rolling on the ground, the enemy drawing a bow and shooting, or even an arrow flying past him towards his comrade. He saw nothing, felt nothing.
From Garrett's perspective, the knight across from him froze in the white fire, facial features disappearing, even the surface of the skull revealing black holes. The faceplate, helmet, and armor on the front burst into bright sparks, metal beginning to burn.
"This person is doomed," Garrett thought.
Crouching on the ground, he rolled to the side, reaching into his pouch with his left hand to grip the second tube of oxygen. The enemy, hit by the high-temperature flames head-on, suffered third-degree burns, with skin layers charred into the muscles and bones. Eyes, ears, nosedestroyed. Even if the brain didn't char, cerebral edema leading to shock would quickly occur. Observing the burning armor, Garrett speculated on the charred throat, trachea, carotid artery, and more. Suffocation and death in minutes.
"This is the first person I've killed with my own hands," Garrett thought silently. The detachment he felt, as if watching everything through a screen, was a stark contrast to the reality of the moment.
On the mountain path, silence ensued. The judges' knights, the squires, the special forces soldiers, and the barbarian Bernard froze in their movements, dumbfounded.
Gordon Knight, the captain of the pursuit team and the strongest on the scene, was engulfed in white flames, standing motionless on the ground. Hair, cloak, armoreverything was burning. Garrett's second wave of white flames hit another squire who couldn't evade, and both man and horse collapsed into a pile of black ashes.
The judges' knights turned and fled in the instant the second wave of flames spewed out. By the time Gordon Knight fell, the pursuers from the judges' faction had vanished.
Bernard fell to the ground, his legs giving way. Garrett, despite feeling weak, rushed forward, first checking on Bernard, then tending to the injured special forces members.
The intense skirmish left Garrett busy attending to the wounded. Shouting for help, he directed the application of emergency examinations, surgical procedures, and healing techniques simultaneously. As the sun rose over the mountain, the injured were finally sorted out.
Returning to Bernard, Garrett found the barbarian catching his breath, vigorously gnawing on horse meat. Another row of horse meat roasted on the fire, the horse Garrett had killed with the rear half not yet burnt. The rogue, with one arm wrapped in bandages, sliced horse meat rapidly.
"Bernard, how are you?" Garrett asked.
"Mmm... tasty... you eat too!" Bernard replied, offering a piece of steaming horse meat to Garrett.
A big piece of horse meat, dripping with grease, nearly hit Garrett in the face. Subconsciously taking a step back, he plopped down on the ground.
"Your Excellency Priest!"
Seventeen or eighteen voices erupted from the group of nineteen present. Captain Barnes and Bernard rushed to help him, almost tearing Garrett in half. Reacting quickly, they avoided the embarrassing situation.
Garrett fell back to the ground, lacking the strength to protest. Exclamations erupted again, making his dizziness worse. Cold sweat oozed out in waves.
"I'm fine... I'm just hungry... give me a bottle of Level 10 candy..."
A moment of silence followed. No gentle nurse wiping his sweat, no familiar glucose solution flowing into his mouth. Instead, a large, hard, tough thing was forcefully stuffed into his mouth. Garrett chewed, and his teeth almost got stuck.
"Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm... I wanted glucose! Not malt sugar!"
"I told you he can't!" Bernard thundered in his ear. "Why sugar! What he needs is meat! Eat meat!"