Just relying on a sudden attack and equipment made of Demon-Blocking Gold, a few people teamed up to subdue a Great Mage's Redanian soldiers.
Now it almost looked like wheat flattened by a gust of wind.
Dikoschek's face was still facing Geralt, and the sudden turn of events happened right beside him.
The soldiers clad in full armor flew past like rag dolls, accompanied by the sound of wind, crashing into the luxurious corridor walls of Airetusa.
The clattering sound of armor pieces clashing with the wall, along with the muffled grunts of humans, echoed loudly.
The interval was so short that Dikoschek couldn't even make out how many people had flown past him.
Geralt glanced around, stepping aside from in front of Dikoschek to give way.
Now, in front of the spy leader, there was only the wall.
The heavy footsteps behind him had already approached closely.
The oppressive feeling was as if it were stepping on Dikoschek's heart.
