Before he could even take a breath, he had already raised the sword in his hand, blazing with golden flame.
The tip of the sword was aimed at the dark night sky, towards the clouds tinged red by firelight and smoke.
When his sword was pointed at this area, it seemed an invisible hand wildly agitated the clouds, causing them to churn and gather in thick clusters.
Deep within the clouds, a muffled rumble of thunder sounded, and countless dazzling golden lightning bolts wildly leaped and intertwined.
Even on the ground, the crackle of electricity could be faintly heard.
At that moment, a hail of arrows fell upon them, and Gil watched as the arrows raced towards him.
He calmly raised his other free hand, spread his fingers, and aimed at the whistling hail of arrows flying ahead.
In an instant, a thin golden light screen spread from the center of his palm, covering a large area of the airspace before him.
The arrows and crossbow bolts flying towards him, upon contact with this light screen, seemed to hit an incredibly viscous substance.
Their speed suddenly slowed, and eventually, they hovered a few meters from Gil, the arrows trembling slightly, unable to advance an inch.
Even those arrows specifically designed to counter spells, shimmering with magic-blocking gold, proved completely ineffective.
This scene plunged all the Nilfgaardian soldiers witnessing it below, including the crossbowmen frantically preparing for a second round of fire, into shock and despair.
Gil's cold gaze swept over the suspended arrows, and he suddenly lowered his outstretched hand.
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH!! The countless arrows and crossbow bolts suspended in the air suddenly changed direction.
The Nilfgaardian army retreated in the direction from which they had come, with even greater speed and ferocity than when they arrived.
"Raise shields!!"
"Get out of the way! Quickly!!" A chorus of frightened shouts came from the Nilfgaardian ranks.
Soldiers who reacted quickly hurriedly raised their shields over their heads and huddled together, while the light infantry without shields...
They could only cover their heads, duck down, and like headless flies, try to take cover in this chaotic formation, or simply lie on the ground.
However, the returning hail of arrows, guided by Gil, possessed penetrating power far surpassing that of ordinary projectiles.
Many shields were pierced by the incredibly powerful crossbow bolts, and the shield bearers fell, crying out in pain.
Soldiers trying to run and dodge became targets and fell one after another, uttering cries of pain accompanied by the sounds of piercing flesh.
Even soldiers in half-plate armor were forced to pick up shield fragments from the ground.
Or they might desperately use their vambraces to cover their faces and vulnerable areas such as the gaps in their armor.
This sudden, though brief, hail of arrows caused massive chaos and heavy losses to the Nilfgaardian army.
Before they could catch their breath after the impact or even express relief at their brief "survival," they were left to their fate.
In the night sky, dazzlingly bright golden lightning, as if tearing the heavens apart, suddenly crashed down.
The golden light was so intense that it illuminated almost the entire battlefield, momentarily turning night into day.
The lightning struck precisely a Nilfgaardian soldier who was staring dumbfounded at the sky.
BOOM! CRACKLE!! At that moment, a deafening clap of thunder sounded.
The soldier didn't even have time to scream before he was instantly enveloped by dazzling golden lightning.
All eyewitnesses saw were golden electrical arcs frantically racing over his body, reflecting even the outlines of his clothes and internal bones.
The next second, the golden light dissipated, leaving behind only a charred, smoking, stiffened, humanoid figure.
It slowly fell forward, crashed to the ground, and shattered into several charred fragments.
And this was only the beginning.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!
One after another, golden lightning bolts, like punishing spears hurled by the gods, continuously rained down from the churning golden thunderclouds.
Each strike precisely hit a Nilfgaardian soldier, regardless of whether he was hiding behind a shield, in a crowd, or fleeing.
In practically an instant, over a dozen soldiers were turned into charred corpses in the dazzling golden light and deafening thunder, falling and raising clouds of black smoke.
The air on the battlefield began to fill with the acrid smell of burning flesh, mixed with the previous stench of blood, making some people nauseous.
There were no screams, only the deafening claps of thunder and the muffled thuds of falling corpses.
This efficient, precise, and natural way of dying is more demoralizing than a sword fight.
General Menno stared blankly at Gil, who, like a god descending to earth, flapped his golden wings and controlled the lightning.
His Adam's apple twitched nervously, his lips trembled uncontrollably, his eyes were full of unprecedented horror and fear, and his body trembled slightly.
"What... what is this? A sorcerer? No... how can a man... fly?"
"To be able to... so accurately control lightning?! This is just..."
"My god... what... what kind of creature have we provoked?!"
His mind was in chaos, and his past military experience and worldview were gradually crumbling.
Beside him, the bishop of the Church of the Sun, seemingly blinded by fanatical dogma and anger, or simply unable to accept the incomprehensible sight before him,
pointed at Gil in the sky, shouting and cursing, trying to explain the unknown terror with familiar words.
"Heretic! He is the greatest heretic! A demon blaspheming against His Majesty!"
"Menno! This is evil magic! It's a sorcerer's trick! Quickly! Order the soldiers to use magic-blocking gold! Use more magic-blocking gold against him!"
Hearing this foolish noise, Menno sighed heavily, and his eyes instantly turned bloodshot.
Magic-resistant metal? Weren't those specially made crossbow bolts made of magic-resistant metal? They were completely useless!
Is this idiot blind, or has his mind been clouded by dogma?!
He suddenly turned his head, opened his mouth, and his heart filled with fear and anger.
The contempt for this foolish bishop nearly erupted in the most offensive curses.
However, just as he was about to speak...
In the night sky, several golden lightning bolts, denser and brighter than all before, once again pierced the darkness and suddenly, without warning, struck down.
The target of the attack was the bishop of the Sun Church, who was still shouting nearby, facing Menno.
*BOOM!!!" A deafening explosion rang out, and the dazzling golden light instantly blinded Menno, his ears ringing.
The powerful shockwave, combined with the scorching air, knocked him and his horse off balance.
When his vision barely returned, and he could make out what was happening before him,
even with his rich combat experience, his stomach involuntarily churned, and an unbearable tremor instantly hung in his heart.
Beside him, the bishop of the Sun Church, along with his magnificent warhorse, had vanished.
In the spot where they had stood, there were only two pieces of charcoal, barely recognizable as the silhouettes of a man and a horse, emitting black smoke and a strong, acrid stench.