Chapter 127: Suppressing Bandits (Part 2)

  The five figures in front advanced continuously, while the old man behind them gently shook the strange wand in his hand, muttering peculiar incantations. His low, murmuring tone sounded like the groans of a dying man. An eerie light flickered on the wand. The old man raised it, pointing it at the female knight from afar, and shouted loudly.

  No one saw any magic shoot forth from the wand, but the female knight’s body trembled violently. Two streams of crimson blood gushed from her nostrils.

  "Blasphemer! How dare you use Soul Magic on a servant of God!" The female knight roared abruptly. A fierce light flashed in her phoenix-like eyes. She wiped the blood from her lips, and the flow from her nose instantly stopped. Although her fair, smooth face appeared somewhat disheveled due to the bloodstains, it seemed the old man’s attack had done nothing beyond making her look disheveled. The female knight turned her gaze toward the old man, the killing intent in her brows exceptionally sharp. She raised a hand toward the old man, her tone carrying the authority and anger of someone scolding a rat that had just bitten them. "In the name of the Lord, I judge you!"

  A dazzling white light shot from the Temple Knight’s palm, soaring past the figures in front and striking the old man directly. The old man was momentarily stunned that the other party had endured his attack unscathed and remained vigorous. Caught off guard, he was bathed in the white light. He immediately let out a shriek like a slaughtered chicken, his entire body smoking as he collapsed to the ground.

  "Light Arrow?" The five figures in front froze for a moment, unable to believe this female knight could instantly cast such a high-level white magic. Originally intended only for undead creatures, the fact it inflicted such damage on a human indicated magical prowess at least equivalent to a high-ranking priest.

  But their hesitation was merely a brief pause in thought due to surprise; their bodies didn’t stop at all. Almost the moment the female knight cast her spell, three of them seized the opening created by the spellcasting and lunged at her.

  This was the instinctive reaction of people seasoned in life-and-death combat. An opponent who had just cast a spell was the perfect target.

  The woman wrapped entirely in a black robe discarded it. Her face remained veiled by black silk, revealing a form-fitting black outfit clinging to her tall, strong, yet voluptuous figure. Every inch exuded power and allure, like a black pantheress. She held a dark blue short sword in each hand, clearly coated with deadly poison. A slender, small man dragged a two-handed greatsword taller and thicker than himself—a weapon capable of crushing or crushing people to death even if it failed to cut them down. Another man gripped a pair of punching daggers in his hands. The three charged, slammed, and pounced at the female knight from three different directions.

  The wind stirred by the massive greatsword, taller and thicker than a man, instantly drowned out all other sounds in the basement. The swirling sword shadows blotted out the sky. The slender man exerted nearly every muscle in his body to wield such an enormous weapon. He himself seemed like an appendage to the greatsword, leaping and swaying even more violently as the sword moved.

  Yet more deadly were the woman’s two short swords. Her figure was like a fish hidden within giant waves, sliding silently through the turmoil of the greatsword toward the female knight’s throat.

  The man with the punching daggers moved last but was the fastest. The frontal attack space was completely occupied by the massive greatsword. He first leaped to the ceiling of the basement, then used it as a springboard to pounce down from above at the female knight’s head, like an arrow loosed from a crossbow. His entire body seemed like a needle magnified and sharpened countless times. The relentless, piercing shriek of his punching daggers even drowned out the roar of the greatsword.

  Ruthless, venomous, vicious—every element capable of taking a life was present in their combined attack. Though this was their first time fighting together, they almost instinctively adopted the most logical and efficient coordination. Judging by this subconscious choice and attack method alone, they were undeniably first-class experts.

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  Amidst this torrent of weapons, whose killing intent could shred a person to pieces, the white light radiating from the female knight shone as brilliantly as the sun.

  Her movements, however, were remarkably simple. She leaped upward, neatly dodging the greatsword sweeping at her waist. The woman’s two short swords, originally aimed at the female knight’s throat, only struck the full steel armor, scraping off sparks. Before the woman could retract her blades, the female knight punched her squarely in the chest. The female knight’s arm didn’t appear particularly thick, but the punch sent the black-clad woman, of similar build, flying backward. Everyone could clearly hear the sound of several ribs cracking.

  As her left fist struck, her right sword transformed into a curtain of light to meet the man diving down from above.

  The man diving down seemed to strike with the most ferocity and abandon, adopting this desperate attack with no retreat. Yet, his judgment was the most accurate, and his defense the most effective. Almost the instant the Temple Knight swung her sword, he realized it would cleave him in two before his daggers could reach her. The daggers, which had seemed unstoppable like a hero marching to certain death, were instantly retracted and crossed defensively before him, just in time to block the lightning-fast sword.

  Unfortunately, this sword was not only swift as lightning but also mighty as thunder. The crossed daggers blocked it, but failed to stop it. The white-glowing long sword pressed relentlessly against the two daggers, continuing its trajectory. Only by summoning every ounce of desperate strength did the man prevent the blade from shattering his arms. Still, his momentum was reversed from a downward dive to being sent flying backward by the sword. The blade’s tip finally grazed his face, slicing a deep line from his forehead, past his brow, to his jaw.

  Just as she repelled those two, the massive greatsword below roared back again. The female knight extended her foot and stepped firmly onto the spine of the blade.

  Such a heavy sword, weighing hundreds of pounds, was difficult and seemingly unnecessary to sharpen finely, nor could it be swung too quickly. Thus, the female knight’s steel combat boot planted securely on the spine. Using the force of the swing, she rebounded off the wall. Then, using the wall again as a springboard, she thrust her sword counter-thrust toward the slender man, the white light on her blade intensifying further.

  The greatsword had already swung past. Such a cumbersome weapon couldn’t be immediately retrieved for defense. But the slender man had always moved in tandem with the giant weapon. The strange chemistry and rhythm between man and sword now manifested. The greatsword and its master shifted slightly relative to each other, allowing the man to press himself tightly against the broad, door-like blade.

  Thud! A muffled impact. The female knight’s long sword stabbed into the body of the greatsword. The greatsword trembled slightly. To drive such a massive object, weighing hundreds of pounds, with a weapon only about one-hundredth its weight demonstrated wrist strength comparable to a powerhouse like Sylka.

  The greatsword merely trembled, but the head of the slender man pressed tightly against its other side jerked violently. He staggered back several steps, swaying drunkenly, finally collapsing to the ground, dragging the sword with him. He opened his mouth, spitting out a mouthful of bloody saliva and a few teeth. He struggled to rise, but it was clear he was so dazed he could barely tell east from west.

  Where the long sword had struck the greatsword, a dent nearly an inch deep had appeared. The slender man’s head had been pressed right against the other side of that dent. Fortunately, the sword was thick and heavy enough, or his head would have burst open.

  The black-clad woman stood with difficulty. Blood trickling from the corner of her mouth soaked the black silk veil against her face. The man with the punching daggers seemed the least injured. At least he stood steadily after landing from the air. The long gash on his face wasn’t fatal, though it cut deep to the bone. Blood gushed like a spring, pooling at his chin and dripping incessantly.

  The female knight’s consecutive attacks and defenses following the instant spell had clearly consumed some energy. She stood her ground without pursuing, exhaling deeply. The white glow around her dimmed slightly before brightening again.

  All these actions occurred in the time it takes a rabbit to rise or a falcon to swoop. The bandits nearby couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. They only saw the female Temple Knight leap, a flash of white light, and then the three experts who had charged with such overwhelming, murderous intent inexplicably flew back. Some spat blood, others dripped blood. In a single exchange, all three were injured.

  But those who could see clearly reacted with utter astonishment. Sylka’s pupils contracted, and the muscles throughout his body twitched. He could discern the combat prowess represented by the female knight’s sequence of movements. This woman hadn’t annihilated the other bandit gangs through luck or the reputation of a Temple Knight. Her daring to charge here alone wasn’t recklessness or arrogance—it was genuine strength.

  Of the five, the two who hadn’t moved also wore expressions of shock. Perhaps due to inexperience or slower reflexes than the other three, they hadn’t acted in time. But seeing the opponent’s displayed strength, they now seemed hesitant to engage.

  The black-clad woman turned her head and shouted hoarsely at Axsis standing behind, "If you don’t want to die, find a way to dispel the magic on this girl! With so many white magics layered on her, even a rabbit could bite someone to death!"

  "I can’t!" Axsis’s voice held a sobbing tone. Since the fight began, he had cast Dispel at least three times, plus a Weaken and a Slow spell. But all his magical energy vanished like a stone dropped into the sea, utterly without effect. This woman was like a statue, completely unresponsive to his magic.

  Sylka tore off a piece of cloth, tightly binding the wound on his arm. His expression shifted from frenzied ferocity to absolute calm. If not for his inherently ferocious features, his current calm-as-a-still-pond demeanor would have resembled a cultured gentleman entering a library. He looked at the man who had been standing motionless and expressionless beside him and said, even his tone now level, "Stop hiding your strength. Strike now. Otherwise, none of us will leave here alive."