Chapter 337 - The Yabba Race Currently Being Massacred (2/2)

Link felt it as well. The opponent had some odd trick that allowed him to see through Link’s Traceless spell. However, Link didn’t feel much danger despite having eyes on him.

After thinking for a moment, he said, “It should be a Yabba survivor. If I’m not wrong, his magic musket is pointed at our heads right now.”

“Having their magic musket pointed at my head…doesn’t feel good.” Skinorse’s handsome face had a wry and uncomfortable smile.

In Firuman, the dwarves were the first to invent the magic musket. The dwarves and Yabbas lived in a mountain range, and they often traded with each other. The magic musket was powerful but didn’t require much physical strength so the thin Yabbas grew to love it. They developed the weapon and created many powerful muskets. With it, they became known for their musketeers in the mainland.

In Firuman, “having Yabba muskets pointed at one’s head” had become an idiom that meant absolute death.

On the other hand, Link was searching for the Yabba. After around three seconds, he shook his wand, and a sesame-sized dot of light flew out soundlessly.

Buzz. With a light sound, the spatial sphere expanded, successfully restricting the target 150 feet away. Then firelight came from behind the grass. The musketeer had fired subconsciously at the shock.

Sadly, it was useless.

“Let’s go. He’s over there.”

Skinorse had rushed over already. He saw two Yabba people hiding in the grass—one man and one woman. The man was covered in blood and unmoving on the ground. The woman was half-kneeling, a musket with a scope propped on her knee, aimed at where they had been.

Of course, these two people were no longer a threat. They were restricted by the spatial sphere and were so slow they were basically frozen.

In that strange space, Skinorse saw something extraordinary.

He saw a beautiful flame bloom from the muzzle of the Yabba woman’s musket. Inside the flame, a spinning bullet flew forward bit by bit. It looked so slow, but the bullet was able to produce rings of ripples in the air.

It was beautiful.

Master Link’s spell is unbelievable, he thought, impressed.

Link walked over as well. Seeing the two people, he observed them and said, “The man is too heavily wounded and pretty much bled out. He can’t be helped. If the woman doesn’t treat her leg wound, she won’t live for more than three days.”

As he spoke, Link activated a Soundproof Barrier and canceled the spatial restraint.

The Yabba musketeer’s movements sped up, but the musket’s sound was muted within the Soundproof Barrier. Link then canceled the spell.

“Who are you?” The musketeer’s face was bloody and full of vigilance. She wasn’t dumb—when she spoke, she aimed the musket at the ground.

Link introduced himself. “I am Link Morani, the lord of Ferde. As you can see, I am a Magician.”

Skinorse introduced himself as well. “I am the famous wandering vigilante, Skinorse…uh, hey, are you listening to me? Why are you crying? Am I that awesome?”

Before he could speak, the Yabba musketeer gaped at them and tears started streaming out of her bright eyes.

“Master Link, our city is destroyed.” Ignoring Skinorse, the Yabba woman choked out, “The Dark Army invaded the City in the Sky and killed everyone in sight. My father, mother, and brother were all killed. They even ate my brother…They’re all dead. The city is in a sea of fire. My home is gone.”

Who was Skinorse? She didn’t know, but the lord of Ferde, the most powerful human Magician, Link, was known throughout the continent. Link worked with the Yabba race often and Elin, the Lady Fortuna, spoke highly of him as well. All Yabba people were familiar with him.

In their eyes, Link was powerful, fair, benevolent, kind, wise, and basically everything good.

At this time, the Yabba musketeer had just experienced the biggest tragedy of her life. Seeing a strong figure she could rely on now, her tense feelings collapsed, and she broke down sobbing.

Skinorse had been disappointed at first but listening to her, he fell silent too. He’d only joined the army recently, but he had experienced too much tragedy already. He thought of the comrades who had died in the Northern battlefield, thought of their last cries, and thought of the rookies crying hopelessly before the demons.

He also remembered how in one mission, he had a smart girl as his subordinate. Her name was Lily. She had deep blue eyes and a pretty cherry-like mouth. She really liked Skinorse; she would run after him, asking questions, and called him “brother.” She gave herself to him too. At that time, Skinorse even wanted to marry her.

But in the Black Forest, she was ripped apart by a Fear Demon. Her head was torn off, and the beautiful thing rolled to where Skinorse was hiding. The two deep blue eyes stared at him listlessly as if asking why he didn’t save her.

Skinorse felt his eyes grow hot and his vision blurred.

“I’ll go see if there’s anything around here.” He wasn’t willing to cry before the others. With that utterance, he turned around and started investigating around.

Link couldn’t escape. He had to take up the role of a kind elder now. Patting the musketeer’s shoulder, he said, “It’ll get better. Everything will get better. Now, I’m going to treat your wound. Tell me what happened in detail, alright?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes and nodded.