"The team leader has gone mad again..." the Elf Swordsman sighed in distress.
Everyone was trying to find a way to console Rocher.
At that moment.
A loud boom came from the distance.
The sword light condensed by Black Flame swept across the land.
All things seemed to turn into fragile cream cakes, lightly brushed by the sword light, leaving a terrifying fan-shaped gap on the ground.
Rocher instantly shut his mouth.
Even though he was more than a dozen miles away from the sword light, Rocher, the veteran Moon rank adventurer, still got goosebumps all over his body.
He didn't feel the slightest bit cowardly when facing the breath of a Forest Dragon.
But looking in the direction of the sword light was like looking into the depths of the abyss of death.
Rocher's hand, holding the great sword, shook uncontrollably, as if electrocuted.
That was an existence absolutely invincible, impossible to compete with.
"Dark attribute presence, adventurer, or Magical Creature?"
