In a battlefield near the capital, Lenburg.
The balls of compressed scarlet fireballs flew past the corpses, weapons, blood, and smoke, under the guidance of a flaming spear. They landed in the areas that were built with simple construction work, creating a series of explosions.
As he watched the smoke rise and the flames spread, Anderson flung the dust in his hands and turned to the deputy beside him with a smile.
"I wonder how much longer this will last… Any last words? I can help you write a will."
As he had wished, he saw the angry looks of the "militia" around him. Their thoughts were uniform.
However, the "militia" didn't attack. The glint in their eyes slowly settled as they cast their gaze in another direction.
"You actually didn't respond to my provocation." Anderson pricked up his brows. "This means that you're planning something."