In the carriage, Merlin observed the two Spell Models within his Awareness.

The Magic Power accumulated by the Spell Model of the Fireball was already very deep and rich. Merlin made a rough estimation that he could unleash approximately twenty-five normal Fireballs.

Such a Magic Power was already immensely rich and thick. Old man Etha's Spell Manual had mentioned that a typical Spell Caster would only have just enough Magic Power to unleash thirty spells, after accumulating it for a long time. By now, though, Merlin had only been constructing his Spell Models for two or three months, but he was already coming close to achieving an accumulation that a typical Spell Caster would need several years to attain.

In the midst of all that, the Spell Models that Merlin was using The Matrix to construct were the best Spell Models chosen from one hundred and eighty thousand Spell Models. Naturally, they would be better than the Spell Models of a typical Spell Caster. At least the Spell Models in Merlin's Awareness were definitely far from being limited to merely thirty ordinary spells.

The accumulation of the Frost's Magic Power was not too slow either. He could already unleash seven or eight spells by now.

However, compared with how vigorously fast the increase of his Magic Power was, Merlin's Mind Power was growing at a lethargic pace. The speed at which his Mind Power could increase was severely limited because he was relying only on a beginner Meditation Spell.

If he were to follow such a pace and undergo cultivation step by step, at least half a year would be necessary for Merlin's Mind Power to reach a level where it could support a third Spell Model.

Half a year might not be considered slow to the average Spell Caster, but Merlin had taken only two or three months to transform himself from a Normie into a powerful Spell Caster. Therefore, half a year could already be deemed an immensely long and arduous period of time for Merlin.

Other than the slow growth of his Mind Power, there was also the problem of how scarce spells were; Merlin was no longer considering old man Etha's Whirlwind, but it was still an absurdly tedious task to find a suitable spell.

A brilliant Meditation Spell and a suitable Zero-level spell. Those were the two things that Merlin lacked now, therefore he really hoped to be able to reach the Kingdom of Blackmoon sooner. That place was the holy land of Spell Casters, so perhaps it would be easier to find some advanced Meditation Spells and Zero-level spells there.

"En? Why have we stopped?"

Merlin frowned. He felt the carriage jolt slightly, as though it had been halted in a rather hasty way. Thus, he pulled the curtains in the carriage aside and looked out.

"Master Merlin, there are bandits attacking us!"

Moss had a very calm and steady expression. He did not seem to be panicking.

Moreover, when Merlin saw the bandits in front of them, he could not help but reveal a hint of an odd look on his face. All he could see in front of the convoy was a group of people wearing colorful outfits. Their attires were not uniform; most of them had only rough linen over their entire bodies, while some of them had it slightly better, having put on some broken and old pieces of light armor.

Their weapons were also laughable and embarrassing. Most of them only had a wooden stick in their hands.

"These men are bandits?"

Merlin recalled the encounter with the Guardian Swordsmen from the church who had disguised themselves as bandits back in the Wilson territory. They had been disciplined and well trained, with excellent equipment. Perhaps those could not be considered bandits anymore, but a true army troop.

Perhaps only these people before his eyes could be considered real bandits!

There were more than a thousand of these bandits. Merlin could see very clearly that not a single one of these bandits looked frightened of the team of knights led by Old Wilson. Instead, a look of uncontrollable greed was flashing through their eyes.

Merlin looked at the heavy armored knights who had been practically armed up to their teeth, and then at the bandits with a variety of colorful outfits and irregular weapons. He could not help but feel rather speechless.

"Moss, could it be that we seem very weak?"

The moment Merlin's voice fell, Old Wilson's heavy armored knights had already prepared themselves by changing into a charging formation. All they were waiting for was a single command from Old Wilson, and they would charge right up into those bandits and shred them into pieces.

***

"Commander Mance, there are bandits. What do we do?"

Princess Charise had a very grave expression. The bandits who had appeared in front of them were densely packed. She was afraid that there were two or three thousand of them.

Commander Mance, however, did not feel that there was anything to be worried about. He said loftily, "Your Highness, mere bandits are nothing. Even if there were more of them, they are just a motley crowd. I can crush this band of bandits just by leading six hundred Firebird knights!"

Princess Charise could only depend on Commander Mance now, so she nodded and said, "Alright, Commander Mance. Lead six hundred knights and defeat those bandits utterly!"

Very quickly, Commander Mance headed six hundred knights and prepared their assault formation. In a deafening voice, he roared, "Charge!"

Immediately, smoke and dust flew up everywhere as six hundred knights charged towards the bandits in front of them like a ferocious tiger rushing down a mountain.

Commander Mance led his men into a charge. His entire body exuded a rich, earthy yellow light as he wielded his greatsword tightly. There were no bandits who could rival him, no matter where he went.

Just as Commander Mance felt that this band of bandits would be defeated and scattered after a few more assaults, the bandits suddenly spread out. A dozen or so excellently equipped knights rushed out straightaway from behind them, surrounding Commander Mance all at once.

Commander Mance did not panic. He stared coldly at these dozen or so people as a realization dawned on him; although these people were coming at him menacingly, there did not seem to be any Elemental aura inside their bodies.

This proved that these knights were not Elemental Swordsmen!

"Die, bandits!"

Commander Mance aimed at one of the knights and raised his greatsword high up into the air. The earthy yellow light from the blade enveloped the whole of Commander Mance's body.

Although Earth Swordsmen specialized in defense, he had already reached the level of a Third-level Elemental Swordsman, so his powers were still exceedingly great. Even the typical Second-level Elemental Swordsman would not be able to block his attack, not to mention these bandits who were not even Elemental Swordsmen.

Bang.

Commander Mance's greatsword struck an iron sword brutally. The powerful reactionary force almost caused his greatsword to slip out of his hands. In some disbelief, Commander Mance stared at the bandit in front of him.

As always, there was no fluctuation of the Elements. The bandit before him, with strange patterns drawn on his face, had unexpectedly blocked his attack without employing the use of any Elements.

"How is this possible?"

Commander Mance was still in shock, but the bandit with the strange patterns on his face had already begun laughing maliciously. "Hehe, there's nothing that's impossible. Charge!"

Every one of the dozen or so knights who had surrounded Commander Mance drew their greatswords out and charged towards him in a frenzied attack. All of them did not seem inferior at all to a Second-level Elemental Swordsman, but none of them had the aura of any Elements upon their bodies.

In other words, they were able to rival a Second-level Elemental Swordsman by relying purely on the energy in their bodies. If only one had appeared, then perhaps he could be deemed extraordinarily gifted, and it would be a special situation. However, more than a dozen of them appearing at the same time was definitely not a coincidence.

Just like Commander Mance, the six hundred Firebird knights were also facing extremely fearsome bandits. There might not be anything special about their training, and there was not much to say about their coordination, but every one of them seemed competent enough to rival a First-level Elemental Swordsman. How terrifying was the accumulative power of a few hundred First-level Elemental Swordsmen?

Therefore, no matter how elite the Firebird knights were, they had still been plunged into a difficult battle now. There was the danger of them being eliminated at any moment.

In the blink of an eye, the motley crew that they had thought was incapable of withstanding a single blow, was currently besieging Commander Mance and the Firebird knights. The tables had turned; the Firebird Legion was now in a precarious situation.

Princess Charise, who was observing the battle from afar, had an anxious and uneasy expression on her face. She was also somewhat confused as to how the great and mighty Commander Mance, as well as the elite Firebird Legion, could not even defeat a motley crew of bandits.