The Journey of the Demon Hunter

"Your ally is dying." Zelin held the sword in both hands, looking for a suitable attack position.

"They are insignificant." Berhart showed his iconic smile, grinning like a ghoul. "The only ones who really fight are the two of us. If you win, they will all die, and I won...you 'S little mutant is still too young."

The bounty hunter swung the tip of his sword and drew a half arc in front of him. But Zelin's eyes didn't look at his sword, but the same, separated the sword in his hand from the rhythm of his footsteps, and drew a semicircle in front of him. Attracting the enemy's attention to his sword, once the opponent focused on defending his own attack, he won half of the duel. Obviously, Burhart also knew the same.

"Burhart, leave him alone, come and save us!"

Skellen was leaning against the remaining few people, and they could only vaguely see the two facing each other in the distance. But they have more deadly enemies. The thick fog covers the entire lake. Every time the ghostly figure passes by, a figure will mourn and fall down, or will be cut directly through the throat, and can't make a shout at all.

"That **** old dog, he can't help us at all!"

Rains' teeth trembled constantly. This is not a battle at all, this is a massacre, the girl is like a ghost in the fog, no one can catch her, and no one can even see where she is. Many corpses fell around, and no one knew whether it would be his turn next.

A mercenary from Grameen was caught by fear. He screamed and rushed into the fog, brandishing his sword frantically, chopping the nearby fog, as if Xili was the nearby fog. Then, others heard the sharp rubbing sound of skates. They saw a vague sword, and then a flash of sword light. The Grammy knelt on the ground with her face covered, and plunged into a nearby ice hole with a thud.

"Rains, catch her with your spell! What about your spell!" Skellen yelled, his voice almost bleeding.

"I'm helping the bounty hunter maintain the spell!"

"Leave the old dog alone!" Skellen yelled and jumped towards Raines, grabbing the wizard's shoulders and swaying constantly. Fear gave him strength, just like grabbing the last life-saving straw. "Quick spell! Catch her, or summon a monster that can only fight her, let her stay away from us!"

Rains began to chant in a low voice.

Kenna hobbled, groping awkwardly on the ground like she was drunk, her head buzzed, her eyes seemed to be covered with mist, everything became so fuzzy. The blood-stained military uniform was attached to her body, and she turned her head. There were no living people nearby, all corpses, fallen corpses on the ice, and floating corpses in the cold lake water. She saw not far away, the light-haired elven crossbowman’s arm seemed to be scorched. She was lying on the ground, moaning in a low voice. As for Andrés, the fog blocked her sight, and she couldn’t see it. Farther away.

But there is one place.

A group of people were leaning back to back, and fear grabbed their faces. They gather together as if too many people will bring them safety. In her eyes, it was just a group of fuzzy figures, but she knew these people, these voices.

She recognizes this spell.

The psionicist in the south learned how to interrupt a wizard's spell and used it against the sorcerer in the north. It was not until after the coup on Sinide Island that this training became unnecessary. This is a cutting spell, Rains is trying to destroy the entire ice layer of the lake, leaving only the small area where they are standing.

She covered her eyes with one hand, and she felt a slimy and disgusting thing appearing in her mind, psychic energy enveloping the chaotic energy, and then she pushed the thing in the direction of Rains with all her strength. .

Rains completed his spell, his hands and lips trembling with fear, but he still completed the spell. The flames jumped from his fingertips, and the magic began to run according to his spell. Then Rains realized that his magic had made an error, and the effect of the spell had become messy compared to expectations.

The ice surface was not broken, nor did the cracks engulf the figure in the thick fog, but instead appeared directly under their feet.

His spell did break the ice, but it was the ice under their own feet.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" Skellen yelled and jumped away, but the others didn't react so quickly.

Duckler lost his balance, just let out an exclamation, then was swallowed by the cold lake, then Boris Moon, then Ola Haytham and the bodies of several Grammy mercenaries, Rains Opening his mouth, he seemed to miss a spell that could protect himself, but he didn’t read a few characters and was drawn into the dark lake. In the end, it was Skellen, but the royal coroner took out a dagger and slid completely. Before entering the lake, he stabbed at the edge of the ice hole, allowing his upper body to float on the water.

"Skellen, help, help me, hurry..."

The royal coroner crawled back onto the ice with all his strength, Boris Moon stretched out his hand, and the cold lake water made his teeth tremble constantly, his face was pale, as if he was about to sink into the lake next moment. Skellen lay on the ice, grabbed Boris Moon's outstretched hand, and pulled him back from the edge of death. On the other side, Rains grabbed the edge of the ice hole, his hand was so hard that his fingernails would crack. His damp hair clung to his scalp, and he was so cold that he couldn't speak.

"Pull me up... hurry up..."

But no one dared to move, because the sound of skates came from their ears.

Everyone stopped in place, as if waiting for death's judgment.

The girl appeared from the fog again, she slowly drifted over, the blood gathered on her sword into a red thread, drop by drop in the direction where she appeared, dripping onto the ice, leaving a trail behind her Red traces. She took off her headscarf and revealed the scar on her face, looking at the people who had been chasing her in the past.

"It's over." Zelin's eyes have not moved, but he can hear the sound.

"No, the prelude is over." Berhart narrowed his eyes. The bounty hunter raised his hand with several gaped swords "just a prelude."

Chapter VIII The Sword of Destiny

They fought several times.

Burhart has the best sword in the south, but it is already difficult to withstand the next attack. As the demon hunter fights more and more, the ebony blade has not become dull and rusty, but has become more and more sharp. In the past, this sword could not cut off the four-finger Philip's goblin sword, but now, it can cut ordinary iron swords almost easily, leaving an indelible gap in these famous swords with every blow.

"You are dead."

"I will lose, but I won't lose in swordsmanship." Berhart held the blade flat and pointed at the demon hunter. "I lost the **** magic."

Their figures staggered, and three sparks burst out in an instant. The moment he passed by, Zelin saw Raines grabbing the edge of the ice with his hands, and Hilly didn't care about Skellen and Boris, and slid right in front of Rains.

The speed of the sword swing was very fast, drawing circles and half arcs in the white fog.

"Without magic, you will die by my sword!"

The sword blade made bursts of sound in mid-air, and the rolled up air current made the nearby fog retreat. They are like two phantoms, colliding in the mist, then retreating, and then continue to fight.

"No!" Burhart yelled, and he slammed his sword violently, almost simultaneously stabbing Zelin's chest and abdomen. His speed is too fast, it is difficult to tell which is the real and which is the phantom. "No one can beat me in swordsmanship! My swordsmanship is the strongest!"

Zellin responded with a Piruette's maneuver, his sword slashed in front of him like a whirlwind, bounced off Berhart’s attack, "Your swordsmanship is the strongest, Berhart! But it’s just this. The world!"

Burhart yelled, almost with his fastest move, stab a sword at a speed that the demon hunter’s eyes could not catch the track, such as confirming the prey, exposing the poisonous snake flying out of the nest with its fangs. Pounced on the target with a certain momentum, and like a spider being forced to a desperate situation, he took out his most violent venom to attack the invading enemy.

Zelin's speed is not as fast as Berhart, he did not try to defend, nor did he try to dodge, relying on instinct to swing a sword at the bounty hunter facing him. The simplest and simplest sword.

This time, there was no sound of blade collision.

The cold wind howled.

The mist came up again.

With a clang, Berhart took two steps forward. The battered sword slipped from his hand and fell onto the ice. The blade could no longer be supported, and it broke into two pieces in the middle.

The sound of wind and water.

There are only these two voices around.

Berhart raised his left hand, which was covered with a scarlet trickle, he lowered his head and looked at his shoulder.

The same location, the same wound.

"You..." Berhart shuddered. "...You won, Demon Hunter."

Berhart widened those dead fish eyes, and he kept more and more blood, and slowly fell to the ground.

Zelin retracted his weapon, he looked at each other, watching his blood flow out, making the ice surface even more slippery. The demon hunter walked over. The bounty hunter was motionless, but instead of swinging his sword, he walked straight beside him and picked up the Griffin Demon Hunter badge that fell on the ground on the other side. Dust and dirt were glued to this griffon's head badge, stuck in the gap between the gryphon's nose and cheeks.

It's exactly the same as Zelin's own badge.

Fate?

Damn fate.

He held the badge in front of him for a while and looked at him silently.

No demon hunter will die on the bed.