Chapter 98: Grinding Monsters to Level Up

Next, the section of the wall where Gao De and the others stood endured successive waves of attacks from furious bats.

Yet as the battle dragged on and the number of attacks increased, everyone gradually grew familiar with the furious bats’ patterns, becoming increasingly adept at countering them.

During this time, the apprentice mages of Squad Seven launched six or seven more attacks.

Gao De participated in three of them, each time successfully slaying three furious bats using the extended range and superior lethality of [Flame Arrow+].

Adding this to his first attack, the acquisition progress of the furious bats’ essence had now reached (4/7).

The situation appeared to be steadily improving.

But change often happens in an instant.

Another wave of furious bats surged toward the section of the wall Gao De was defending.

Among this new wave, the first four bats were noticeably larger than the others, their fur a much deeper shade.

Arrows fired by archers bounced off these four bats like striking metal, unable to pierce their hides at all.

“They’re 1st-ring furious bats!” Li Luo frowned.

0th-ring furious bats could still be wounded by ordinary arrows.

But once a ground pulse creature reached the first-ring tier, it gained formidable physical resistance.

Only spells or alchemical weapons could inflict meaningful damage.

*Clang! Clang! Clang!* The four 1st-ring furious bats charged ahead, braving the arrow storm and carving a path through.

Seeing this, the apprentice mages of Squad Seven paled.

They knew their cantrips posed no threat to first-ring ground pulse creatures.

Even without the 1st-ring bats, the number of furious bats now closing in under the leadership of those four had approached a hundred.

That number was beyond their capacity to stop.

This was the first crisis Squad Seven had faced in this defense.

“What do we do?!” Some with weak nerves began panicking, flailing helplessly.

Panic was easily contagious.

“Don’t fear—high-ring mages will act!” Li Luo noticed the shift in morale and shouted to steady them.

At that moment, as Li Luo’s voice faded, Gao De felt a powerful, invisible energy surge from the tower behind them.

Along the wall, towers were built at intervals, each equipped with alchemical weapons.

Of course, Bremen City had no intention of deploying those weapons in this defense.

It was the mages who acted.

Gao De instinctively turned his head and glimpsed, within the fortress-like tower atop the wall, a robed figure flicker past.

The next instant, before the section of wall defended by Squad Seven, a cloud of countless tiny daggers formed along the furious bats’ advance path.

These daggers gleamed with cold light, spinning and whirling in a fixed zone, carving arcs through the air like a storm of blades.

The furious bats had no time to react—they plunged straight into the dagger cloud.

Silver trails appeared across the bats’ bodies as the daggers cut through them.

Whether the four first-ring bats or the nearly a hundred zero-ring ones, they made no difference before the spinning magical daggers.

Each bat was struck simultaneously by multiple daggers.

Every bat struck let out a piercing shriek.

Their bodies were sliced apart, flesh and blood spraying everywhere.

They tried to flee or dodge, but the daggers’ speed and number far outpaced them, spreading rapidly. Soon, the air was filled with blood and shattered remains.

The most threatening wave, which had turned the apprentice mages pale, was effortlessly neutralized.

“Is this the true power of spells?” Gao De murmured to himself: “I wonder if it’s a 1st-ring or 2nd-ring spell?”

He finally understood why his own potent 0th-ring spells were mockingly called “cantrips.”

It wasn’t that 0th-ring spells were weak—it was that higher-ring spells were overwhelmingly powerful. The gap between mages and apprentice mages was still too vast.

After the hidden high-ring mage in the tower eliminated this most dangerous wave, the situation stabilized once more, with no further incidents.

The furious bats emerging from the forest continued their assault for nearly half an hour before being largely broken.

The scattered remnants could no longer mount organized attacks, vanishing into the wastelands beyond the city walls.

The battle ended.

Gao De looked at the ground outside the wall, littered with bat corpses and broken wings, then at the wounded city guards on the wall, and sighed.

Furious bats were among the easiest ground pulse creatures to handle.

They had no ranged attacks or supernatural abilities—only tough bodies, charging the wall head-on through arrow storms, one life after another.

It felt almost like moths flying into flames, seeking death.

Yet even so, several city guards had been scratched or bitten by “leakers” that broke through the line before the mages could intervene.

According to Li Luo, furious bats carried deadly diseases—so the fate of these wounded guards was obvious.

At the very least, they’d lose half their lives.

But war was war—avoiding all casualties and injuries was nearly impossible.

“Before this, you were all strangers, never fought together. Completing the mission with so few casualties on your first battle is already impressive.”

But their leader, Li Luo, clearly approved of the outcome and spoke up in praise.

This greatly pleased the makeshift Squad Seven apprentice mages.

They received tangible rewards and emotional validation—everyone felt good.

“During the city defense, conditions were too chaotic and urgent to accurately count how many furious bats each of you killed.”

Li Luo paused, his gaze sweeping over their faces, then said:

“But rest assured—the extra reward we promised won’t be shortchanged.”

“Later, report your claimed kills to the registration staff—we’ll settle your rewards based on your reports.”

“I trust none of you will falsify your numbers,” Li Luo smiled.

In truth, even if someone lied, the discrepancy wouldn’t be large.

After all, a second-class apprentice mage could cast at most ten or so cantrips before exhausting their mana.

Though no one had counted exactly how many cantrips each apprentice cast during the defense, everyone had a rough sense of the numbers.

So even if someone cheated, they dared not overreport by much.

But Li Luo saying this made him seem generous—and everyone felt comfortable.

For Li Luo, the money wasn’t his anyway—it came from official funds.

Even if he didn’t pay these “wild mages,” the money wouldn’t end up in his pocket.

So why not be generous? At least he’d earn goodwill.

(End of Chapter)