Magic Troops.
The name of the unit that Gilfin decided to incorporate into the restructuring of his mercenary regiment, one of the few mercenary regiments in the north that only exists with him.
The unit, made up of magicians who had been incensed by Gilfin, was exceptionally feared among the brave mercenaries of the North who looked down on the magicians.
Gilfin Witchcraft Mercenaries.
Gilfin decided to name the mercenary regiment.
But to name the word magic, the magician wasn't enough for Gilfin alone.I don't know what it was, but I needed a couple of magicians in robes.
At first, I scouted mercenary magicians fighting on the northern battlefield.
However, the magical power was unusual from Gilfin's point of view.
Gilfin soon realized that they had a woefully decorated cane and wore a black robe covering their whole body, trying to make themselves look big, and they didn't understand anything about the need for the fruit, the cane and the robe.
There was no point in passing through the wand when using magic, and they used it mainly for self-defense and striking.
In fact, not enough attention was paid to the material of the cane.
For them, including just clothed robes, they were merely symbols representing the sorcerer, an act to increase mystery.
And when they saw Gilfin's staff, which was made of the tree of Suzarijmaz, they laughed mockingly at its obscurity.
"Commander, you can't protect yourself with a stick like that."
Among the gathered magicians, the grand magician, who had been on the tough battlefield for many years, advised Gilfin, who was still young.
"The wand is like this."
That's how you shake your metal wand toward the nearest trunk of the tree.
Hard wooden skin splashed with a sharp bang.
"Unless it's a material that protects you when it's time to go."
Looking at the man's good face, Gilfin sighs inside.
Gilfin's wand was a specialty that he bought at the prestigious Corner Street shop before he left the academy.Don't let mercenaries retire with a replacement like a cane for the elderly.
I didn't expect anything from the beginning, but the level of the northern magician was so low.
Gilfin struggled to keep ridicule from appearing on his face.
From a magician who has survived for many years, this is about it.
But in other words, it was here that I could behave like a god.
His magic was so isolated from the others.
I see.
Gilfin nodded to the magician and slowly lifted his wand.
"Does this wand look like a stick to you?"
With that said, I pointed my staff at the painful trunk of the tree with the blow marks earlier.
"But remember that. Magician, when it comes to defending yourself is still magic."
The magician's face, with his eyebrows frowning on the words, turned pale.
As Gilfin stroked the cane, the tree fell in half, as if it had been cut with a sharp blade.
"Well, I'll see what you can do on the battlefield"
That's what Gilfin said and laughed lightly.
There are three kinds of magic magicians from the North use on the battlefield.
Magic that attacks enemies directly by flying small fireballs and more.
Magic that creates invisible shields and protects allies from enemy arrows.
The magic of stretching grass under your feet and entangling them with your enemy's feet.
Others used one or two other magic tricks, like personal stunts, but at most.
The balls of fire were far from lethal, and no mercenary would have hit them if they hadn't closed their enemies so well.
A shield that prevents arrows, like an invisible shield, is too small to protect up to two people.Moreover, it was often the roughness of the magic that caused the arrow to pass through the gap between the shields.
In the end, the most commonly used technique is the vine pigeon technique, which manipulates the grass at the feet, but the effect depends on the location, and there was no manipulation of the grass itself in the long winter.
Even with each accuracy, the Nork Magic Academy was a substitute for the level that teachers would stop at the moment they tried to use it.
Even a two-year-old kid in elementary school uses a little more magic.
Gilfin thought.
But I can't help it.
The Gilfin Witchcraft Mercenaries begin here.
Half of the sorcerers gathered died in the first few battles.
Most of the surviving half saw Gilfin's magic and sneaked away in dismay at the difference in power.
Still, the few remaining magicians were ambitious enough to uncover Gilfin's powerful magic secrets.
Gilfin didn't take it seriously.
My powerful magic has no secrets.
There is only one difference between being a magician and being educated.
And that education is never available in the North.
One day, Gilfin returned to his curtain house, where he found a man holding his staff.
"What are you doing here?"
Turning to the words, he was the magnificent sorcerer who had first advised Gilfin of his mistakes.
"You. That's my wand."
That's right.
Without panicking, the magician nods.There was dark light in his eyes.
But it's not yours anymore.
"What?"
"All your mighty magic came from this wand.This lowly wand is the secret of your magic. "
The sorcerer smiles distorted.
From today on, it's my wand.
"I don't know what to say."
Gilfin smiled with his nose.
"The wand is a wand. I'm not a magician."
Pull it out.
The sorcerer turned his wand towards Gilfin.
"From now on, I am the greatest magician."
Gilfin stared at the tip of the stick that was pointed at her and then smiled unexpectedly.
"It doesn't matter."
Gilfin spread his hands.
Try it.
Blue lines float on the magician's forehead.
The next moment, a flame erupted from the cane with a roar.
To its power, the magician spills a smile of congregation.
But the flames were wiped out before they reached Gilfin's body.
/(adv, adv-to, vs) (on-mim) (on-mim) feeling better/feeling better/feeling better
The magician peels his eyes.
"Oh, that's my wand."
Gilfin said with a cold expression.
"How dare you turn your little magic into such a flame?"
"Stupid."
The magician sticks out his wand even more. Again, flames.
Gilfin waved his right hand loudly in front of his face and wiped it out.
Gilfin opens his right hand in front of the clinging sorcerer.
The magician opens his eyes when he sees what appears in his hand.
Well, that's...
It's heavy.
Gilfin lifted the metal wand with his face pointing.
"Have you been running around the battlefield with this stuff?Then we can concentrate on magic. "
"My wand"
I told you.
Gilfin turned it slowly toward the sorcerer.
"The wand is a wand, not a magician."
"Shit."
The magician looks desperate and points the wand again at Gilfin.
Gilfin shook his head.
You can't do this.
Whether the words were finished or not, the magician's body froze to the point of a single hair.
"... are you going to raise me?"
Gilfin murmured as he ordered his men to take the sorcerer's body outside.
I'm the magician myself.