Chapter 96

"Since we have the same goal for now, let's divide the work now," said Amara.

"It seems that you don't trust me."

Amara remained standing, glancing back at Nebuchadnezzar, as if she couldn't understand why he was repeating the obvious.

"Then I'll deal with the dragon, and you can handle the spellcaster." Nirvana shrugged and chose the side that looked more difficult.

However, Bernardus would never allow others to choose him.

The dragon wings stretched out, and the light as bright as the broken sun condensed into a heavy spear, which was fixed from the palm to the arm bone together with the sharp arm armor. He walked forward, as if he was going to deal with the two people opposite him alone.

When Amara saw the familiar shape of the heavy gun, her eyes twitched slightly, but she said nothing.

"The result was not taken seriously at all. In comparison, I suddenly feel that people like you still have advantages, such as respecting your opponents?"

With his hands empty, Nirvana made some useless chatter, and it was unclear whether he was trying to cause any disturbance, or perhaps both.

But the dark shadow had already passed over Amara's side, feet and head, quietly dyeing the snow and sky black, like a deadly undercurrent.

If you look down at them from a high place, you will find that the patterns are actually a series of oblique cross-shaped stars, some upright and some flat, but they are connected and growing like roots, giving off an illusory aura as if they are in a different space from the real entity.

Amara looked at the scene that was instantly distorted into something abnormal, and the sword in her hand paused, as if for a moment she was unsure whether she should stab the lich according to the division of labor, or turn around and stab the unprecedented monster.

The Dragon King looked around at these things that hinted at the connection between monsters and star gods - suddenly, the tip of the slanting star pierced the boundary between illusion and reality and attacked fiercely.

It was like a black rainstorm.

But most of this "rain" was swept away in one blow, leaving only countless splashes of snow on the outer edge of the battlefield.

Black and white were mixed and confused, and the mountains and forests trembled.

At the same time, the fir staff began to sway slowly and slightly, and the ice, snow and rocks that were readily available were instantly crushed into a large amount of sand and soil, which mixed together and hardened into a shield.

The first shield was placed in front of the caster, and it existed for a moment before collapsing, perfectly blocking the sword attacking the neck without obstructing the caster's vision. Subsequent shields rushed or fell from all sides, forcing the Templar Sword back several steps.

As the frozen debris fell to the ground, several ice spears made from local materials were already pointing at him.

...The liquid dripped onto the snow. It was bright red from the living.

The sharp spikes made of many tiny light elements were released at the same time under the protection of those shields. They could penetrate the defensive magic of the saints without more than 30% loss and cause damage, which was the reason why Amara had to retreat temporarily.

The lich displayed his flawless combat awareness, and his dark red eyes were as calm as death itself, leaving no room for the opponent.

Just before the next round of confrontation, he suddenly weakened his aura realistically, lowered his face, and coughed twice like an ordinary person who couldn't stand the cold.

Even his eyelashes, which had been dyed dark red by irreversible death, were trembling slightly. He looked like a completely different person from the calm spellcaster who had fought off the attack a moment ago, and it was almost impossible to tell that they were the same soul.

The heavy gun slammed into the expanding black shadow, pushing the monster that had re-condensed into a human form into a hole in an old tree.

The Dragon King nailed his weapon to the spot to stop the spread of the shadow, then turned and ran towards his friend.

The lich put down the fist that was pressed against his lips, raised his eyelids, and said calmly, "Don't wake her up."

With their tacit understanding, communication to this point is enough.

Bernaludos nodded: "Then leave it to her own will."

"Okay. After all, what will she decide... I'm curious too." Before leaving with his friends, Lazarus glanced at the saint who was only slightly scratched and the monster whose life or death was unknown.

Their figures went away and soon disappeared in the wind and snow.

Amara stood there and waited for a while to confirm this fact before checking the new cut on her palm. Even if the undead managed to drive the light element, its nature remained the same. It could not be cursed, otherwise it would immediately fall into chaos and its structure would completely break down.

Therefore, the wounds he received were just ordinary external injuries, narrow and not very deep. In front of the excellent physique of the beastmen, the bleeding had stopped a long time ago, and even the cracked skin and flesh had healed slightly.

He walked through the ankle-deep snow and headed towards the tree hole, sword in hand.

“…”

"I'm sorry I'm not dead yet. You must be very sorry."

Just before he arrived, Niebu regained his balance with a relaxed look on his face, leaning on the tree trunk and sticking his head out. His long, tangled hair was streaked across his face and eyebrows, mixed with wood chips and snow, but no blood. It seemed as if he had just rolled around in the snow a few times, rather than having experienced a spectacular battle.

“The dragons couldn’t kill you, so I will,” Amara said.

The short-term cooperation seemed to be over, but he still did not forget his original judgment and insisted on eliminating the harm of this monster.

"That won't do. They got away, but we haven't been let out yet."

As Nie Bu spoke, he picked up the clean snow in his palm, trying to roll it into a beautiful round snowball.

Everything around him was just as he said, still showing no signs of disintegrating, and showing no intention of returning them to the real world.

"To be honest, I can stay here for decades, sleep until Xiaoman dies of natural causes, or my father dies early and everyone falls down together. But you will starve to death or freeze to death soon without supplies, right? You won't survive a winter, Mr. Falcon."

Those warm gray eyes from other people should have been gentle and kind, which always seemed inconsistent with the monster's personality, but at least they looked quite realistic when it pretended to be concerned.

The fact that Amara chose to remain silent rather than refute this proved that he understood this condition.

The Winged Tribe put away their swords, waited for him to finish making the snowball, and carefully carved it into a lifelike snow sculpture of a fox no bigger than a palm. They also created a shadow to follow behind him and support it, and only followed silently when Nirvana finished all this and stood up to walk out of the mountain.

Soon, they found a very old house at the edge of the forest, close to the outside world.

The house itself is not small, but half of it has collapsed due to disrepair, and the other parts are also very dilapidated. Fortunately, there are traces of rough repairs on the roof and outer walls, which seems to be someone still living there.

Some distance away, through the falling snow and wind, Amara could vaguely see the outlines of other houses.

At this time, Nie Bodhi had already gone to the old house and knocked on the door. He seemed very sure that there was someone inside. He knocked twice, then put down his hand and waited, suddenly becoming very patient.

After a long time, the door slowly opened, revealing a pretty face that looked very weak but still young.

"Hello, ma'am. My friend and I are travelers. Our supplies were lost in an accident. Is it convenient for us to go inside to avoid the snow? Even in the yard."

The monster that quietly disappeared its sharp horns did not clean itself up after the battle, and now it looked a bit ferocious. He pulled Amara, whose face showed that she was a decent person, over with one hand and asked sincerely.

"It must be hard in this weather... please come in." The young woman with long light gray hair and the same warm gray eyes was slightly stunned when she looked at Nebu, but she didn't think too much. After hesitating for a moment, she quickly let them in.

In fact, whether it was the Templar Sword or the monster, they could easily destroy the house without even saying hello to the owner. But since the latter were acting according to human rules, Amara would certainly not harm innocent people.

He calmly pushed away Nie Bo's hand, walked into the slightly low old house, and looked around silently, confirming that this small family lived in poverty, but they tried hard to clean up every visible place without any extra clutter, so although they were poor, they still maintained a sense of warmth with bright and clean windows.

The lady who opened the door for them looked in poor health and moved very slowly out of necessity.

With some difficulty she took off the thick coat she had hastily put on, and smiled happily as Nirvana took the initiative to pick up a few sticks for her and threw them into the fireplace which was almost extinguished.

"Thank you," she said.

"Are you the only one living here? It's really not easy." Nirvana said.

"No, there's also my daughter, Xiaoman. She just fell asleep." The lady tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, indicating that there was another family member under the old bedding on the bed.

"Don't wake her up," Niebu suddenly took out the fox made of snow like magic, put it on the half-empty plate on the fireplace, and said lightly, "I really hope I can see it before it melts..."

"What did you say? This snow sculpture is so beautiful."

"Nothing. We are just very grateful that you trusted us and took us in. Of course we have to repay you. Let's go, 'old man'."

Amara ignored him and walked towards the fireplace. She hovered her hand over the small snow sculpture, whose surface had melted and turned crystal clear, and cast a temporary solidification spell on it. This spell was usually used to protect certain on-site evidence to prevent it from seeping into the ground or evaporating quickly, losing its original effectiveness and being unable to be preserved until the subsequent investigation stage.

As expected of a guy who spent his entire life protecting others. Strangely overly kind. This was clearly written on Niebu's face, as if he didn't care if the snow sculpture he had carefully carved melted.

"You still like to meddle in other people's affairs." He said after walking into the yard.

Amara picked up the crude little hatchet and wiped the snow off it, but she didn't throw it directly into the monster's face. She must have had great endurance.

He picked up a large branch that had been dragged back from the snow in the yard, trimmed off the messy small branches in a few strokes, and concentrated on turning it into firewood suitable for burning with an axe. It could be used after it was dried a little.

Amara had not proposed or agreed to help, but he was the one who did the final work. The monster just stayed nearby, and even leisurely found a place to sit down and stare blankly, as if he would fall into the snow and stay there motionless at any moment, like a drunk or a dead person.

Fortunately, Niebu did not fall down again. The monster just held up his face with boredom and watched Amara do things. Suddenly, he spoke in a different tone. He was no longer confused or joking, but was terribly sober:

"...You are indeed the sword of the Temple, and your power is like a general in the world."

"But what have you brought to the world with your life's efforts? A will that is stable enough not to be swayed by fanatical heretical beliefs should not be able to be loyal to God and justice at the same time. Because 'right' and protecting the lives of innocent people are often in conflict with each other."

“Each night, are you praying or are you questioning yourself about the increased sacrifice?”

"—these spirits are here with me, sir. They do not blame you."

Amara finally stopped, slowly stood up, and looked back.

"Hey, why are you adding more drama?" Yuan Qian, who had racked his brains and finally got through the split phase, strongly protested against this chaos.

Forget about the gags in the beginning, the scenes where the good supporting characters and the villains barely maintain superficial harmony are also quite interesting, but how can such a major scene be delivered at short notice? Wouldn't it hurt your conscience?

[The atmosphere is right.] The teammate behind Niebu spoke in an innocent tone.

"What kind of atmosphere is this? Is it so awkward that it's worse than a fight?"

Yuan Qian didn't feel any so-called atmosphere at all. He was just concentrating on his work a little bit dully, and finally had time to sigh that the air on a snowy day was not uncomfortable or irritating at all in front of a good physique, but rather refreshing.

[People don't like to hear suffering unless it is expressed in the form of love.] The devil chuckled and whispered, [Since No. 6 is a true saint - you have worked hard for this, and the dead who have nothing love you.]

"You mean you said that because it can be exchanged for emotional points?" Yuan Qian tried hard to understand, and silently felt that a riddle teller must be a natural. The Demon King could easily come up with words that sounded incomprehensible yet seemed to make sense, but he had to work hard to make them up.

Although if he left this environment, his original living environment would not require him to speak in a roundabout way, and he would not have to think too much about what others said if he did not understand them, and everything had to give way to survival itself, but it is very useful now, so it is an ability that makes him very envious.