Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1443 1415. Old Hunter

Dorigare was still in shock and ran down from the Gastang Palace breathlessly.

He is the royal advisor to King Esayin of Sidaris and a senior professor at Ben Ade College.

Just as Philippa Eilhart had arranged.

The secret capture and detention of traitors among wizards requires the presence of people from neutral kingdoms to serve as witnesses and narrators of the incident at Gastang Palace.

Judging from the wizard's speed and expression, there is no doubt that he is no longer welcome.

Dorrigare had already fled to the huge stone bridge.

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

Just like before, he was looking for the black squares to move on the bridge which was like a chess board, which undoubtedly wasted his time.

It was not difficult for the wizard to solve this problem, especially since he was not wearing the golden shackles that could block magic, and the magic-forbidden circle of Gastang Palace had been destroyed along with the entire tower.

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

But he doesn't have time!
There isn't even a little bit of time!
There was a whoosh sound, as light as a cold wind blowing.

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

Dorigare's already soaked body suddenly broke out in cold sweat again! At the same time, his heart was beating fast! His breathing became rapid and his saliva became sticky!

If he hadn't moved sideways to walk on the black grid, the arrow would have pierced his back!
Dorrigare was not a wizard who was good at fighting, and he had never been so close to death!

His heartbeat was accelerating and his mind was in a mess. He couldn't control it! He couldn't cast a spell smoothly in this state!
If he had this ability, couldn't he just cast a levitation spell and jump from the tower to the sea in Gastang Palace where there were no restrictions on spellcasting?
However, in the short period of time after the horrific incident, the mages who were not good at combat did not realize this method at first.

The mages who were better at fighting were specifically held back and eliminated.

Then the big ship carrying hundreds of Squirrel Party members flew up from the sea and crashed into them!
As a result, the mages who were ambushed and killed by the Squirrel Party did not have even a chance to breathe and cast spells smoothly.

I still dare to cast some offensive magic, after all, it is all thrown out with magic power.

But who would dare to cast a floating spell around or on one's body when the magic power and intention are unstable?
Wizards are the ones who are most aware of the dangers and weirdness of chaos magic.

Before Dorigare had time to congratulate himself for finding the black grid's movement pattern to dodge the arrow, his heart sank.

The movement method that specifically looks for black squares is too obvious!

The archers of the Squirrel Party are all elf archers. Even if they ride their horses and run irregularly, they cannot escape their arrows. With such obvious movement patterns, I can dodge the first arrow but not the second!

His mind had already taken a sharp turn and sunk, and Dorigare felt his entire body stiffen.

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

But his stiff body still stepped onto the next black grid according to the previous plan.

Not everyone can be meticulous, break through limits, stay calm and sharp in a life-threatening crisis, and let their thinking and resourcefulness lead them to overcome danger and triumph over difficulties.

People like Dorigare are the majority. Even if they have realized that the next step will mean death, their heads are in a mess and they can't think straight at all.

Then the body will just continue to move stiffly towards death.

Dorigare even had vague 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 didn't know that wizards were 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 "Exploring and curbing the growing racial discrimination" jointly joined by Tishaya and Heng Gedimitis.

'No'

Dorigare couldn't control his scattered thoughts at the moment, and he was thinking about everything without any purpose.

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

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

An arrow inserted from behind will most likely injure a lung lobe.

But just when the wizard himself had become numb.
"Whoo~"

A wisp of deep green smoke passed by Dorigare like the wind!
Dorigare's stiff footsteps finally landed on the next piece of black ground, but he did not die, and his lungs were not pierced by the arrow that pierced from his back.

On the contrary, from behind him came a series of shrill screams and cries.

The screams came one after another, but because they were so fast, it sounded like a large number of them suddenly broke out.

Dorigare was still dancing the black square stiffly.

But then, he felt his collar tightening, and his whole body was pushed against the railing of the stone bridge, with his head pressed on it, as if it was pressed on a wooden stake used specifically for beheading.

The wizard began to scream and struggle unconsciously, but it was all in vain.

A short knife with a sharp curved arc and a material that looked old but deep, the blade was pressed against his throat. As his Adam's apple rolled up and down nervously, Dorrigare felt that his skin was about to be pressed by his Adam's apple, cutting a hole on the blade.

A leather glove, full of the smell of blood and a sticky and slippery texture, was scratching his screaming head.

During this process, the smelly blood was smeared on Doregare's face and hair.

Finally, when his hair was wet enough to start sticking to his scalp, his ears were revealed.

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

Then, the hand covered with blood left his head.

Dorrigare was still screaming uncontrollably, he covered his throat and retreated hastily.

But all I saw was a dark figure in a bird feather cloak.

Those shining bird feathers were stained with an unknown amount of blood, as if they had been splashed there.

Under normal circumstances, when Dorrigare saw a cloak made of bird feathers, he would probably have criticized the harm this behavior caused to animals.

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But now, looking at the elves lying on the ground in a mess at the other end of the bridge in just a short while, he could only remain speechless.

The death of those elves was not exaggerated, at least it was much more decent than what Dorrigare had imagined before he actually 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, and whether this man who had no armor but only a thick-looking coat and cloak was a secret collaborator of Aretuza.

But he knew that in such a short period of time, her efficiency in killing people was too high, as she made all the squirrel tails hanging on the elves' hats immersed in blood.

No, that can hardly be called 'killing', with such efficiency, it should be called 'cleaning'!
Dorrigare did not dare to look back when he was running away just now, but he knew that even if he looked back, with his vision and experience, he would probably not be able to see any trace of the Squirrel Gang.

Elves are naturally more agile than humans, and the Squirrel Party, who can fight guerrilla warfare with the army, are even more skilled in concealment and surprise attacks.

Once they hid in the garden or the bushes, people like Dorigare would have no idea where the enemy was.

But the person in the bird feather cloak in front of her seemed to have an almost natural understanding of where the Scoia'tael could hide and where the raid would start.

The elves who were hiding in the corners and trying to launch a sneak attack were often trapped in the corners and killed before they could jump out and attack actively.

Experience, technology. Even an outsider like Dorrigare could clearly feel that the Squirrel Party was like a group of apprentices in front of this man, so immature that he could see through them at a glance.

There was a series of sounds of sharp blades breaking through the air.

But there was no metal collision.

No sparks, no collisions.

A member of the Squirrel Party drew his weapon and started fighting with the Crow Hunter. He was now waving the elven long sword in his hand violently and ferociously.

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

The person in front of me wearing black bird feathers looks like a demon spirit!
She simply dealt with all her attacks by dodging!

The blade seemed to be cutting through a cloud of black smoke!
Then, there were two "hissing" sounds!
This was the only sound during their fight besides the swinging of weapons.

The two [Blades of Mercy] in Irene's hands and the Yharnam hunter's usual swift dodging skills allowed her to successfully dodge the elves' blades.

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

The tendons that generated force were also precisely severed, and he could no longer hold the long sword in his hand, which slipped out of his hand due to inertia.

And the next moment, the two daggers on the left and right snapped into one amidst the sparks flying as the mechanism was activated!
The transformation slash of [Blade of Mercy] was performed on the elf's neck.

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

The squirrel's tail fell to the ground with a gurgle, immersed in the blood that was enough to cover the soles of the shoes.

"Did we miss anything?"

The sound of shoes soles stepping on a pool of blood sounded gently, as if this scene was enough to make any normal person tremble with fear, but for the owner of the footsteps, it was just an everyday occurrence that was not worthy of attention.

Henrik, who was wearing a khaki windbreaker, was walking across the bridge and talking while wiping off a layer of blood on the outside of his leather windbreaker with a glove.

He was holding the meat saw which was still dripping a mixture of blood, minced meat and hair. The minced meat hit the ground with a light, crackling sound.

But at this moment, Dorigare, who was already sitting on the ground, felt that the sound was deafening!
Henrik's eyes, sandwiched between the brim of the tricorn hat and the mask, glanced slightly at the wizard's ears that were revealed when his hair was pulled apart.

Then he walked over without stopping.

The tone of voice between the Yharnam hunters' conversations was still as light as a dream talk.

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

(End of this chapter)