Kosso, his wounds still unhealed, showed no hesitation. Receiving the order, he charged toward Grote with his massive body, followed by over a dozen Cyclopes.
The earth trembled beneath their charge.
Grote, healed nearly to perfection in just over a dozen seconds thanks to his bloodline power, showed no fear even as he faced these towering Cyclopes.
Without a weapon, Grote let out a furious roar and alone charged into the oncoming mountain-sized giants.
Northern Warriors—fearless, dauntless!
"Fireball spells, suppress! Unrestricted attack!!"
Li De's tone was equally unshakeable and resolute.
This was a life-or-death battle between enemies, there was no forgiveness, only survival or death.
The Cyclopes possessed extremely high magic resistance. In contrast, it was unheard of that Northern Warriors had any significant magic resistance.
They were indeed tough, but magic attacks did not deal less damage to them.
The remaining 182 Vampires, hastily assembled into squads, began to unleash Li De's hallmark spell—Small Fireball—without restraint.
A single Small Fireball was laughable against a Level 16 warrior, like a mere itch.
But in the hands of nearly two hundred Vampires, capable of launching over a thousand Small Fireballs every second, it became a true Gatling Fireball.
The temperature of the air soared by dozens of degrees in an instant.
Boom boom boom!
A rain of fireballs, true fireball carpet bombing.
Aside from the time they had jointly used Small Fireball at the Livestock Farm to excavate a water reservoir, this was the first time Li De truly commanded nearly two hundred Vampires to cast Small Fireball in unison.
The scene was as terrifying as a volcanic eruption.
Even the Cyclopes, with their extraordinary magic resistance, suffered severe injuries under this indiscriminate bombardment.
Flames several blades high ignited across the ground in moments.
At this time, the second clash between the Cyclopes and Grote, the Level 16 Northern Warrior, began.
Leading the charge wasn't Kosso but another Level 9 Cyclops.
Grote, sensing the momentum of the Cyclops before him, had a sharp, cold glint flash through his eyes as his speed accelerated once more.
Charge.
The Cyclops instinctively swung his massive spiked club, but Grote rushed forward without hesitation.
Just as the spiked club was about to strike him, Grote leapt into the air.
At that moment, the Cyclops could not retract his attack.
Without his greatsword, Grote used his right arm as a weapon.
Squelch.
His arm pierced through the Cyclops's eye socket and burst out from the back of its head.
The massive Cyclops was killed instantly, not even managing a second attack.
Kosso witnessed this and let out a furious roar, accelerating his charge.
Grote, meanwhile, landed gracefully, with the corpse of the Cyclops collapsing thunderously behind him like a grim backdrop.
Boom boom boom!
Hearing the pounding noise to his side, Grote turned sharply, locking eyes with Kosso's charging form.
No fear.
Charging head-on.
Kosso's fury over witnessing his clansman's brutal death nearly drove him insane.
"Restrain him!!"
At that moment, a voice from above jolted him back to clarity.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the surroundings had become a sea of fire, and countless fireballs continued to rain down densely.
Kosso suddenly recalled the helplessness he had felt when first facing the Vampires in Giant Valley.
Roaring to the heavens, Kosso charged forward recklessly, using his powerful arms to wrap Grote tightly in a bear hug.
When Grote struck Kosso's chest with a punch and was immediately ensnared, he was momentarily stunned—he hadn't expected the Cyclops to grapple him rather than attack.
Anger surged in his heart—he would kill this Cyclops!!
No creature could dare approach a Northern Warrior at such close range, not even a dragon without paying a heavy price.
Just as he prepared to counterattack, countless fireballs descended.
Previously, while Grote was moving at high speed, even a dense rain of fireballs couldn't touch him.
But now, restrained by Kosso, the hellish tide of elemental fireballs engulfed the land.
"Other Cyclopes, scatter!"
Li De's voice now carried barely concealed fury.
Every Cyclops was a precious asset—not only for their battle strength but also for their irreplaceable production capabilities.
At this moment, not only had Grote slain nearly fifty Whispering Bats and over ten Vampires, but he had even killed a Cyclops—a non-renewable resource.
The losses made Li De grit his teeth in frustration.
Kosso, as a Level 15 Cyclops, possessed skin that was immune to magic of Tier 3 and below.
Back in Giant Valley, Kosso alone had endured the Vampires' endless magical bombardments for nearly five minutes without falling.
Thus, Li De did not hesitate to drown the restrained Grote and Kosso alike in a sea of fireballs.
He refused to believe that this Northern Warrior could endure better than Kosso, who had Ancient Giant blood and magic immunity.
Scorching and explosive.
Once Kosso clamped onto Grote, the latter was immediately swallowed by the fireball barrage.
Although due to size differences Kosso took more of the direct hits, the terrifying heat still inflicted deadly burns upon Grote, who had little magic resistance.
Grote, locked tightly against Kosso's chest by arms three times thicker than his waist, was unable to leverage his warrior skills.
No matter how many techniques he mastered, he was rendered helpless.
One-on-one, he had countless ways to slay this Cyclops. But under these conditions, he could only rely on pure willpower, pure brute force.
His left arm pinned, only his right arm could move.
Grote wildly pummeled Kosso's chest with fist after fist.
Under Grote's frenzied strikes, even Kosso's thick armor began to crack.
The immense force behind each blow made Kosso cough blood repeatedly.
Amidst the blazing inferno, the brutal close-quarters struggle was maddening and savage.
And the fireballs didn't stop.
They only grew denser.
Having consumed Mana-Infused Blood before the battle, the Vampires had no need to worry about mana exhaustion in the night.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
At the epicenter where Kosso held Grote captive, the ground's rocks began to melt, turning into molten lava that oozed outward.
Yet even at the heart of the firestorm, both Kosso and Grote remained tenaciously alive.
Kosso, fueled by rage over his fallen clansmen, ignored the searing agony.
He had only one thought.
To kill this damn human warrior!!