Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1443: 1415Old Hunter



Chapter 1443 1415. Old Hunter

Dorregaray was in shock, running down from Gastang Palace out of breath.

He is the royal advisor to King Esain of Hydaris and a senior professor at the Academy of Ban Ad.

Just as Philippa Earhart had arranged.

The secret capture and detention of traitors among wizards requires the presence of people from the Neutral Kingdom who can serve as witnesses and narrators of this incident at Gastang Palace.

Judging from the speed and expression on the wizard's current sprint, there is no doubt that he is no longer popular.

Dorregaray had fled to the huge stone bridge.

He was not familiar with Arethusa, so he did not know that the bridge had actually been repaired.

As before, he was looking for black squares on the bridge that looked like a chess board, which undoubtedly delayed his time.

Solving this matter is not difficult for the wizard, especially since he is not wearing magic-blocking golden shackles on his hands, and the forbidden magic circle of Gastang Palace has been destroyed along with the entire tower.

He only had to say a short spell and steadily output a small amount of magic power, and then he could use the floating spell to cross the bridge safely.

But he doesn't have time!

I just don’t even have this little time!

There was a 'whoosh' sound, as soft as a cold wind blowing.

Then an arrow grazed Dorregaray's arm and hit the ground of the stone bridge, breaking into two pieces under the impact.

Dorregaray's already soaked body suddenly broke out in a cold sweat again! At the same time, the heart beats loudly! Shortness of breath and thick saliva!

If he hadn't just taken a step sideways to walk the black grid, the arrow would have been inserted into his back!

Dorregaray is not a mage who is good at fighting. He has never been so close to death!

His rapid heartbeat and confused mind are beyond his control! It's impossible for him to cast spells smoothly in this state!

If he had this ability, wouldn't he be able to just activate the floating spell and jump from the tower to the sea in the Gastang Palace where there are no restrictions on casting spells?

But in the short period of time after that horrific incident occurred, the mages who were not good at fighting did not realize this method at the first time.

The mages who were better at fighting were targeted and eliminated.

Then the big ship carrying hundreds of Scoia'tael flew straight up from the sea! Hit it!

As a result, the mages who began to be raided and killed by the Scoia'tael were even less able to have a chance to breathe and cast spells smoothly.

I still dare to use both hands to throw out offensive magic. After all, I use magic to throw it out.

But who would dare to put the floating spell around and on his body when the magic power and thoughts are unstable?

Wizards are the ones most aware of the dangers and weirdness of Chaos magic.

Before Dorregaray had time to rejoice that his special movement method of finding black grids allowed him to avoid an arrow, his heart sank immediately.

The moving method to specifically find the black grid is too obvious!

The Scoia'tael's archers are all elf archers. They can't escape their arrows even if they run around on horses. With such an obvious movement pattern, I can't dodge the first arrow but not the second one!

His mind was already sinking rapidly, and Dorregaray felt his whole body stiffen.

The friction of the fine deerskin boots on the stone slabs seemed to be breaking his bones!

But his stiff body still followed the previous plan and stepped on the next black grid.

Not everyone can be at a critical moment, but they can be thoughtful, break through limits, be calm and sharp, and let their own thinking and creativity lead them to overcome dangers and overcome difficulties.

People like Dorregaray are the majority. Even though he has realized that the next step is to step out, he will die, but his head is so mushy that he can't think at all now.

As a result, the body will only stiffen and continue to take another step towards death.

Vaguely, Dorregaray even had auditory hallucinations.

He thought he could hear the laughter of the Scoia'tael behind him, the elves laughing and discussing how many humans they had killed.

But the elves don't know that wizards are already the most accepting and sympathetic group of non-human races in the world.

Even among the topics of this meeting, there is the topic of "Exploration and Containment of Increasing Racial Discrimination" jointly signed by Tissaya and Hen Gedimidis.

'No'

Dorregaray couldn't control his scattered thoughts at the moment, and he was thinking endlessly.

'Even if the Scoia'tael knew, they probably wouldn't care. After all, Emperor Emhyr and Francesca of Nilfgaard offered obviously better conditions. ’

At this moment, Dorregaray began to feel phantom pain in his lungs.

Arrows inserted from behind will most likely injure the lung lobes.

But just when the wizard himself was already numb.

"Huh~"

A wisp of deep blue smoke passed by Dorregaray like the wind!

Dorregaray's stiff steps finally landed on the next piece of black ground, but he was not dead, and his lungs were not pierced by the arrow that penetrated from his back.

On the contrary, there was a scream and scream coming from the direction behind him.

The screams sounded one after another, but because they were so fast, it sounded like a large area suddenly sounded.

Dorregaray was still dancing the black grid stiffly.

But then, he felt the collar of his neck tighten, and his whole body was pushed to the railing of the stone bridge, and his head was pressed on it, as if he was pressed on a wooden stake specially used for beheading.

The wizard began to yell and struggle unconsciously, but to no avail.

A short knife with a sharp curve and an old but deep material, the blade pressed against his throat. As his Adam's apple rolled up and down nervously, Dorregaray felt that his skin was being pressed against his Adam's apple, cutting a hole on the blade.

A leather glove, filled with the smell of blood and a sticky, slippery texture, was tugging at his yelling head.

In the process, the smelly blood was smeared on Dorregaray's face and hair.

Finally, when his hair was so wet that it started to stick to his scalp, his ears popped out.

Then, the wizard heard a muffled whisper: "It's not pointy ears, and it's not killing anyone. It seems you are not prey."

Immediately, the hand stained with blood left his head.

Dorregaray was still screaming uncontrollably, holding his throat and retreating hastily.

But he only saw the back of a dark bird feather cloak.

The shiny bird feathers seemed to have been splashed with an unknown amount of blood.

If Dorregaray saw a cloak made of bird feathers on a normal day, he would probably have begun to criticize the harm this behavior caused to animals.

But now, looking at the elves lying on the ground in a mess on the other side of the bridge in just a short moment, he could only remain silent.

The death of those elves was not an exaggeration, at least it was much more decent than Dorregaray had imagined before he saw it.

The only abnormal thing was the large amount of blood accumulated under these normal corpses.

The wizard didn't know whether the two strange-shaped daggers were magic props, or whether the man with no armor and only a seemingly thick coat and cloak was some of Aretuza's secret collaborators.

But he knew that in such a short period of time, her efficiency in killing people who had all the squirrel tails hanging on their elf hats soaked in their blood was too high.

No, that can hardly be called ‘killing’. With this efficiency, it should be called ‘cleaning up’!

Dorregaray did not dare to look back when he was escaping just now, but he knew that even if he turned back, with his vision and experience, he would probably not be able to see any trace of the Scoia'tael.

The elves are inherently more agile than humans, and the Scoia'tael, who can fight guerrillas with the army, are all good at concealment and surprise attacks.

As soon as they burrowed into the garden or the grass, people like Dorregaray had no idea where the enemy was.

But the person in front of me in a bird feather cloak seems to have an almost natural understanding of where the Scoia'tael can hide and where the raid will start.

The elf who was originally hiding in the corner and wanted to sneak attack was often blocked in the corner and killed before he could jump out and attack.

Experience, technology. Even for a layman like Dorregaray, he could clearly feel that the Scoia'tael were like a group of apprentices in front of this man, so immature that he could see through it at a glance.

A series of sharp blades cut through the air.

But there was no metal collision.

No sparks, no collisions.

A Scoia'tael drew his weapon and started slashing with the crow hunter. He was now waving the elf sword in his hand violently and fiercely.

But the expression on his face was as if he had seen a ghost.

The person covered in black bird feathers in front of me looks like a demon!

She dealt with all her attacks by simply dodging!

The blade is like cutting a piece of black smoke!

Immediately, there were two sounds of ‘呲呲’!

This was the only sound other than waving weapons in the air during their fight.

The two [Blades of Mercy] in Erin's hands, and the fast dodging skills that Yharnam hunters are accustomed to, allowed her to calmly and successfully avoid the elves' blades.

Then two hands approached from both sides at the same time. In an instant, the skin and flesh of the elf's armpits were torn apart, and a large amount of blood burst out.

Even the tendons that exerted force were accurately cut off. The long knife in his hand immediately became unable to be held tightly and fell out due to inertia.

And the next moment, the two short knives on the left and right clicked into one amidst the sparks splashing when the mechanism was activated!

[Blade of Mercy]'s transformation slash was used on the elf's neck.

The biting blade directly 'cut' off the elf's neck!

It fell to the ground with a grunt, and the squirrel's tail was soaked in blood that could flood the soles of the shoes.

"Did we miss anything?"

The sound of shoe soles trampling on a pool of blood sounded calmly, as if this was enough to make any normal person's liver and gallbladder burst. For the owner of the footsteps, it was just a daily routine that was not worth paying attention to.

Henrik, who was wearing an khaki trench coat, used his gloves to wipe off a layer of blood on the outside of his leather trench coat while walking across the bridge and talking.

He was carrying a meat saw knife that was still dripping a mixture of blood, minced meat, and hair. The sound of the minced meat hitting the ground was very soft, "cracking".

But at this moment, Dorregaray, who had already sat on the ground, felt that the sound was deafening!

Henrik's eyes, which were caught in a gap between the brim of the tricorn hat and the mask, glanced slightly sideways at the wizard's ears, which had just been pulled apart by his hair.

Then he walked over without stopping.

The tone of conversation between the hunters in Yanan was still light and sleepy.

It seemed like this sudden, cruel and **** night was just a deep dream.

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