Around Cheka, the other Truth Society wizards, compared to Cheka, weren’t much better off.
Under the attack of the blue light, they were all injured. The stronger they were, the more Mana in their Magic Origin, the more astonishing their Mana fluctuations were, the more serious their injuries beca.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
Screams of pain continuously rang out. Looking around, it could be said that there’s no worst, only worse.
The luckier wizards were almost like Cheka, entering a state of spitting blood.
The unlucky wizards, accompanied by the shattering of their Magic Origin, had so part of their body suddenly explode with a "boom" — at best, opening a fist-sized bloody hole, at worst, blowing away half of their body.
The unluckiest wizards had to be those farther away in the square, who ca as reinforcents, floating in the air. They had the right idea, preparing to stop Richard from breaking through from the air. But suddenly facing the blue light attack, it turned into a tragedy; their floating spells failed, themselves heavily injured, with no ti to react, they fell with a scream.
"Ah—splat!"
Accompanied by the distorted, elongated sounds, they hastily ended their lives, not even leaving a complete corpse, a half corpse... not even one-tenth of a corpse.
After all, although their floating height wasn’t very high, it certainly wasn’t low, generally hundreds of ters, equivalent to jumping off a hundred-story building on Earth to commit suicide. Visually, the scene was like tomatoes continuously falling, unbearable to see.
In short, it can be said that after the blue light swept through, in just a very short ti, the situation on Pompeii Town’s ground was completely changed.
Originally, it was the incredibly weak Richard alone, fighting against hundreds or thousands of fully prepared Truth Society elite wizards.
But now, it was Richard fighting against a group of constantly wailing wounded.
This is equivalent to changing the difficulty of a breakthrough ga from extrely difficult hell level, instantly to extrely easy beginner level.
This is the power of the Magic Electromagnetic Pulse generated by nuclear weapons.
Richard looked around at the scene, suddenly sowhat understanding why, during the East Coast’s Joint Revenge Exchange Conference, the mbers of the Supre Order Divine Society first insidiously used the Broken Magic Ball to heavily wound the wizards attending the conference, before launching an attack.
Because this kind of choice, which can directly lower the difficulty, is indeed sowhat satisfying.
Previous speculations were correct, as long as it’s used well, the Magic Electromagnetic Pulse can exert power not inferior to that of nuclear weapons themselves.
He really liked this way of lowering difficulty, however, on the other hand, the difficulty might have decreased, but the breakthrough ga hasn’t directly ended — still requires personal completion by hand.
Then let’s get to work.
Richard took another breath, slowly stood up straight on the stone building, and looked over at Cheka.
Cheka on the mining field, after spitting out nearly half a bucket of blood, finally stabilized his body’s condition, pushed away the Truth Society wizards lying around him in disarray, and began directing the wizards in better condition.
The Truth Society wizards are of very high quality, especially the mbers who ca to Pompeii Town; none are ordinary people. Although they were greatly terrified after facing the blue light attack, under Cheka’s direction, they slowly adjusted and reorganized a surrounding formation.
After finishing this, Cheka looked towards Richard and hoarsely asked, "You... what exactly did you do just now?"
"I just did a small trivial thing for my breakout," Richard softly replied.
"Small thing?" Cheka’s tone turned cold, "Whatever. Maybe you do possess so amazing thod we don’t know about, which can severely injure all of us, but even after removing thirty percent of those severely injured or dead, we can still organize a few hundred wizards to stop you.
You need to know that you’re just one person, one person! Our numbers are several hundred tis yours. Even taking turns to fight you can tire you out to death. Moreover, you nearly exhausted all your Mana, you are in a weakened state, unlikely to recover quickly in a short ti, not much better than our injured mbers. So, it is impossible for you to break through."
"Who says so?" Richard chuckled, "Who says my weakened state can’t quickly recover? Who says I’m alone?"
"Hmm?" Cheka widened his eyes.
Richard did not explain further, just flipped his hand, and a black short wand appeared in his hand — the Energy Storage Short Wand obtained from the Black Spirit King’s Treasure. He held it tightly, quickly drawing Free Energy Elents from it to replenish Magic Origin.
Then another flip of his hand produced a black briefcase, placed flat on the top of the stone building, and he opened it, calling inside, "Pandora, Mr. Ah Fu, Master Anan, co out, it’s ti for you to perform."
As soon as the words fell, nurous figures erged.
The first was Pandora, dressed in purple, holding a nearly three-ter-long Tin Wood, her expression eager on her face, constantly looking at the surrounding Truth Society wizards as if picking the first target to attack.
Following closely was the Witch Demon Elder, wearing a big black robe, wielding a black giant scythe ford by condensed energy, surrounded by black aura, resembling the reappearance of Death God.
Behind him were the Witch Demon Elder’s Magic Puppets, marching out in a line, about the height of a person, their eye sockets inflad with Ghost Fire, looking tough to deal with.
At the very end was the Eight-Ard Skeleton Anan.
Anan did not look imposing, trailing at the end of the last Magic Puppet, one would think he was part of the Witch Demon Elder’s puppet army.
These figures’ appearance filled the entire top of the stone building, changing the overall stature significantly compared to when Richard was alone.
Cheka observed, his eyes narrowed slightly, recalling past experiences in the mining field, seeing Pandora and the Witch Demon Elder and other familiar faces, he belatedly murmured, "Hmm, alright, I rember now, you... indeed are not alone."
"Are you still insisting that my breakout is impossible?" Richard looked at Cheka and asked.
Cheka’s gaze turned somber, hearing this, he didn’t respond.
Richard didn’t wait long, saying, "Unsure? Alright, let the facts prove it."
"Pa!"
With a sound, Richard took out a mask from the Space Iron Ring — the Black Spirit King’s mask, and wore it on his face. The remaining energy inside surged into his body, his muscles slightly bulging, boosting his presence.
"Ka!"
With another sound, Richard took out a new Destructive Glove from the Space Iron Ring, replacing the one on his hand, making his presence sharp.
"Swish!"
Richard raised his hand, addressing Pandora, the Witch Demon Elder, and Eight-Ard Skeleton, "Let’s begin, the goal is to leave here, if anyone obstructs, then eliminate them all."
"No problem," Pandora said earnestly.
"Alright," the Witch Demon Elder nodded.
"..." The Ghost Fire in the eye sockets of the Eight-Ard Skeleton subtly turned golden.
"Action!"
With a wave of his hand, Richard led the leap down the stone building, comncing the attack, and Pandora and the others followed closely.
Having seen this, Cheka gritted his teeth and shouted with all his might, "Stop him!"
"Whoosh!"
In all corners of Pompeii Town, the wizards capable of combat rushed over, releasing spells, madly unleashing destructive force, trying to stop Richard.
Originally due to the earthquake caused by the Atomic Bomb, it abruptly intensified at this mont.
On the constantly quaking ground, the battle reached a fever pitch as soon as it started.
...
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