Chapter Forty-Five
An explosion erupted in the middle of the street, the flames and shockwaves forcing Twelve to retreat.
He frowned as he looked at Lady in front of him, then disappeared into the street.
Lady coughed violently. The muscles around her neck were completely damaged the moment the grip was applied, and blood was flowing from the horrific wound where a spike had pierced through.
Twelve's palms seemed to be able to pierce through blades, and as he gripped Lady's neck, he let that thing pierce through her throat.
If it's any later, even if Lady is a machine, it won't matter; her neck will be directly corrupted by the injected magic.
Among the sacrifices given to Lady was a piece of armor incorporating alchemy—an explosive shield. This item, which provided instantaneous protection while simultaneously triggering an explosion, saved Lady's life.
But she only had one, and she was completely unable to defend against the onslaught of twelve.
Lady crouched down, taking all the projectiles from her waist and scattering them across the ground, while simultaneously adjusting her body position to an odd angle. The musket was fully loaded, and although they were in the middle of the street, hardly a safe place for defense, this clumsy method was the only way she could protect herself as much as possible.
The new attack came from about a hundred meters behind her, and by the time Lady noticed it, it was too late. Twelve adjusted its distance so that Lady couldn't pinpoint its location for about two seconds, and then accelerated its attack by sprinting.
The projectiles on the ground were triggered simultaneously, and explosions and smoke filled the entire space at the same time. The collision of metal exploded in rapid succession within three seconds, the mud on the ground cracked, and Lady was hit in the waist by a knee, spinning in the air and crashing into the building next to her.
However, when Twelve tried to give chase, he was met with a well-prepared musket.
The explosion happened again in front of her. Lady slowly lowered her wrist, coughing up blood clots.
Lady's fighting style is limited by her own abilities. She doesn't have exceptionally outstanding physical attributes, and her combat effectiveness is capped by the weapons she carries.
She has now used all her items in the battle against Twelve. Oh, she has three explosive armor-piercing rounds left, but Twelve probably won't give her another chance to hit them.
Even so, she leaped from the ruins, steadily reloaded her ammunition, and pulled her short sword from the rubble behind her. The sword was riddled with holes; it was a miracle it hadn't broken. With almost every clash, Lady used its strongest point to strike the longsword's weakest spot. But even this finely crafted sword was far inferior to the longsword called Bo Ming. Legend had it that it was a weapon capable of slicing through demons and gods.
She leaped high into the air, thrusting her short sword into the wall to stabilize herself like a crow, hoping to use her superior field of vision to assess the situation.
But she had already pushed the victory to twelve here, because the wall shattered, and she could only turn her body as fast as she could as she could as she watched the demon burst out of the wall.
A barrage of bullets erupted from the end of the corridor, separating Twelve and Lady once again from each other.
Twelve landed back on the ground, looking at the guy with some dissatisfaction.
Being forced to retreat time and again was wearing down his patience. To be honest, Twelve wasn't a very good at enduring things. Otherwise, he wouldn't have chosen a quick attack in this situation.
But turning his head, he saw a pleasant surprise, because the bright light blinded him. This kind of rude light pollution interference was simple and effective. Simultaneously, amidst the bright light, the sound of numerous pins colliding rang out.
Those were fine needles, hundreds of them shooting towards twelve simultaneously. The discarded piece calculated its trajectory in the air; in this place with no leverage, its only option was to be pierced and turned into a die.
But when the smoke from the explosion cleared, the sacrificial pawn caught Lady as she fell through the air. All the needles fell to the ground, half of them corroded, with blackened ends.
"Are you alright?" Abandoned Child looked at the stab wound on Lady's neck and realized that her reactions just now were probably just a form of resistance before shutdown. Her body was not as precise as his own; any damage would harm the core components. Not to mention her neck.
But now is not the time to worry, because in the short time that followed, Twelve reappeared before them.
In his hand, the thin, melodious weapon had transformed into a massive black scythe. A two-meter-tall scythe, even slightly longer than him. Its strange and eerie design suggested it was the very weapon he had just used to deflect the needle.
Should we run away?
The abandoned pawn pondered what to do; he still couldn't see any sign of victory. He had plenty of equipment, from throwables to ammunition. But Lady was injured, and her wounds would fester here; she needed to be taken to the priests for treatment as soon as possible.
But would this thing let it leave? The Abandoned Pawn didn't know, because it couldn't determine its remaining magical energy. Perhaps not much, or perhaps it hadn't even activated it yet. Maybe this scythe was its hidden trump card, or perhaps it was just its true weapon that it was now willing to reveal.
Twelve didn't care what he thought; he just needed to kill these two guys here. Otherwise, he'd be in serious trouble.
Hiding in this space was a bold decision to begin with, and now that a battle has broken out, the guardians will soon arrive. If he can't end the fight before the guardians arrive, he'll have to fight the monster that has been here for who knows how many years. Although he's in his current state and doesn't need to worry about not being able to escape, it's still a troublesome situation.
He pressed the sickle into the ground, took a step forward that caused the ground to crumble and soil to fly around him, and his body slowly formed a streamlined shape.
If Ivan were still alive, he would be astonished that this was the same action he had taken. But when doing these things, there was no surge of powerful magic from his body, and the surrounding buildings were not destroyed simply by the shockwave caused by the magic.
As the mud splattered to the ground, the thirty-meter distance was almost instantly filled. The scythe seemed to be sheathed in an invisible sheath, unleashing a mutated slash; its sharp aura swept across, shredding entire clusters of buildings.
But the two guys in front of him had already disappeared into the distance.
"Although I don't know where this place is, your current behavior is dangerous." A steady voice rang out, and Twelve looked up at the guy standing in front of him.
Another busybody. Twelve took a deep breath and got into position. After twirling the scythe in his hand a few times to get a feel for it, all the muscles in his body were engaged to the right feeling.
However, this meddlesome fellow is not easy to deal with.
One of the high-ranking clergy here, Priest Karl, is here for some unknown reason.
The abandoned pawn and Lady were behind him, their bodies surrounded by protective light shields. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his robes, staring at the monster before him.
He was separated from Twelve by a pile of ruins, and it was unknown how long these collapsed houses could hold them off.
Watching Lady's neck wound heal at a visible speed, the abandoned soldier felt much relieved. Since Karl was here, there was certainly no need to worry about being affected by the corruption.
Although the relationship between clerics and demon hunters isn't great right now, they're still on the human side. If a demon hunter encounters trouble, the clerics will most likely help according to their duties... Of course, if the situation were reversed, the demon hunters probably wouldn't save the clerics, and might even wish for their deaths.
“If there’s only one, now’s a good opportunity.” Twelve heard a soft whisper, and the shadow’s voice echoed in her ear: “He has no relics, not even his own weapon. He came empty-handed, and here, you don’t have to worry about being found out by outsiders.”
Needless to say, Twelve knew that this was a good opportunity. If they could kill a high-ranking priest now, they would gain a huge advantage.
The ruins were sliced apart in an instant; black blades swept across, leaving huge marks on the ground.
However, it stopped before the barrier; it hit it without even causing any change in the light shield.
Karl reached into his pocket, slowly grasped the cross on his chest, and softly chanted something.
Even the next moment, Twelve swung her black scythe down in a completely distorted posture.
The light shield began to collapse the moment it made contact, and Twelve revealed a triumphant smile as it slashed towards Karl's neck.
But his momentum ended there. Before he could react, a tremendous pain shot through his lower abdomen, and the force sent him flying backward.
When he landed, he had a look of fear on his face.
Blood slowly dripped from the back of his hand onto the ground. But he seemed not to see it, and slowly, very slowly, he walked over.
The madman blocked the scythe blade with the back of his hand while simultaneously punching him in the abdomen from the side.
This guy's physical abilities have reached a terrifying level, Twelve was so certain that he stood there dumbfounded, not even bothering to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth.
He had just felt the clanging sound from his sickle as if it had struck something indestructible, and now he realized that his sickle could not cut through anything.
Karl vanished into thin air. Twelve instinctively swung her scythe to block, but was still struck by the terrifying force and slammed into the surrounding buildings. Three houses were shattered by the residual force of that power.
And this seemed to be just his punch; he slowly withdrew his fist and put it back in his pocket.
The sound came a moment too late; it was a thunderous explosion, making one's eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.
Carl weighed his fist a few times, then frowned as he looked at the guy lying in the rubble.
The punch landed very solidly; I didn't expect this guy to actually be able to withstand it.
Judging from the feel, it seems like it hit some kind of metal.
But it looks like a person, so why does it feel metallic when you hit it? Karl hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked towards the ruins where he had flown away.
Karl waved his hand slightly in the air, and a series of metallic clanging sounds rang out as the iron dart was smashed to pieces in front of him.
As the smoke slowly dissipated, he looked up and saw a large piece of metal hurtling towards him.
He smashed something weighing tens of tons to pieces, and Karl walked unharmed toward the guy who stood up from the ruins.
All the bandages on his body had been removed, revealing the black substance beneath his skin.
His lower abdomen, where he had been hit, still had a fist-sized dent. He was panting heavily, waving the scythe in his hand.
Carl looked at him from a distance, then slid his back foot back and simply placed his hands in front of him.
"Ha, haha." Twelve suddenly laughed, looking at Karl, his laughter suddenly becoming so joyful.
"What are you laughing at?" Karl watched as his laughter grew increasingly maniacal, and he even slowly bent over, while black bone wings grew from behind him.
There seemed to be crystal in his chest, from which blackness slowly enveloped his entire body, and long horns coiled on his head. He shouldered the scythe in his hand, bent over, and laughed heartily.
From the moment he turned to the dark side, the surrounding air began to thicken. This was because a large amount of magic power created a deterrent effect, even pressing the surrounding iron nails back into the ground, while the place where he stood was slowly enveloped in blackness, and then turned into hard metal.
"Don't misunderstand, I'm just laughing at my own ignorance." Twelve shook his head and looked at the guy in front of him, saying, "Back then, I thought that five or six demon hunters might be able to defeat a high-ranking priest, but now I realize how ignorant I was back then."
Carl didn't answer, he just looked at him, waiting for him to say what he was going to say next.
Metal spikes suddenly shot out from the ground, shattering upon impact with his body. Karl didn't even bother to defend against such an attack.
"I never imagined there would be such a gap between us and those favored by the gods." Twelve's voice slowly lowered: "They're very strong."
From the moment he left until now, Karl had given him a strange sense of oppression.
Flawless. If one had to describe the impression this seemingly unremarkable young man standing before him gave, it would be flawless. This was because his body was filled with holy magical power, and almost nothing could rival its hardness.
“God gives us power so that we can gain glory and give it to God.” Carlton paused and said, “Of course, God doesn’t want to ruin his own reputation. I would have helped you when you were a human, but now, you seem more like the devil than a human.”
"Yes, I've also received the blessing! Let's see whose master is stronger!" Twelve roared, a sound that was almost a groan and a cry. The ground began to cave in, and he charged at several times the speed of sound. Buildings and ruins in his path were shattered and turned into metal spikes that flew towards Karl. In an instant, attacks surged in from all directions like a tsunami.
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