Crimson Servant.

Chapter 222 Dark Elf Practical Class

As they stepped into the snowy mountains, the temperature dropped again. The snow around their feet seemed to be biting the toes of the adventurers through their boots, and the cold wind that occasionally blew out of the valley made a whining sound like a ghost, and the warm clothes they wore seemed to be useless at this moment.

John could hear the sound of teeth chattering around him. When he turned around, he saw that the sound was coming from Lucien. The illusionist's expression did not change. The sound came from his stomach. It was a ventriloquist trick of the illusionist. The illusionist was used to concealing his true condition, making it impossible for people to tell whether he was really cold now, or perhaps this was another way of fooling people.

"Lucien, are you feeling cold? I can give you a blessing to keep you away from the cold."

Dalia said with some concern, reaching into her backpack and taking out a spellcasting book, looking for the entry on the divine spell to dispel the cold.

John watched with a little regret as the priest's fingers moved away from the handle of the one-handed hammer. It was obvious that using that equipment would make his voice disappear faster.

The divine power radiance appeared on Dalia's fingertips with the guidance of her consciousness. She moved the fingers that condensed the radiance to the illusionist with a focused look. When the halo dissipated after touching the illusionist's body, Dalia looked at Lucien, who was no different from before, with doubt.

Her blessing was unsuccessful, and the priest, feeling that she was not skilled enough, planned to try again, but was stopped by the illusionist.

"It's okay, Dalia, I'm not cold."

The sorcerer at the side saw it clearly. When the divine light was about to be transferred to the illusionist due to physical contact, a blurry ripple of distorted vision appeared on Lucien's body. The divine power dissipated the moment it touched the ripples, just like water that can't find a channel to vent and can only be lost in the air. The failure of the blessing was not the priest's fault, but the illusionist's.

To put it in more technical terms, the reason for this failure is [this is not a valid spell target].

Perhaps he had given himself an immune shield that made him untraceable, or perhaps this was just an illusion created by Lucien. John carefully observed the movement traces under the illusionist's feet and was more inclined to the first judgment.

Francis, the team leader, suddenly paused at this moment, turned his head and looked behind him, saying, "We have an opponent."

John and Inlucien immediately bent down and began to sneak, and Dalia followed closely behind. The adventurers climbed up a slightly higher snow hill, crossed the obstacle and looked to the other side.

In the valley, several layers of frames supported by giant trees supported a two-person-high mine entrance. The half-collapsed shape indicated that it had been abandoned. There were several frozen beast skeletons placed around it. On the flat snow in the center, a three-meter-tall frost troll was knocking on the remaining part of the door frame with a wooden stick covered with ice chips.

This huge beast blocked the adventurers' way, and the mine was their destination.

The monster's entire body was covered in long ice-blue hair, with long arms hanging to the ground and sharp claws on the tips of its four fingers. The giant stick it wielded was as thick as a person, and the vibrations caused by the powerful blows could be felt even from the high place where the adventurers were hiding.

Dalia swallowed and held the one-handed hammer in her hand.

"How are we going to deal with that guy? Lure it away?" she asked unconfidently, thinking that her small body was not even strong enough to withstand a single blow from the monster.

Francis, like Dalia, was immersed in a unique emotion, his eyes glowed as he met his partner's gaze.

"cover me."

The dark elf drew out his two swords, turned into a shadow and jumped down from the hill. He was so fast that even the falling snow could not touch the corner of his clothes. The frost troll noticed the sudden appearance of the enemy, stopped his game, looked at the small black shadow that fell from the sky and roared fiercely. This giant beast had seen humans before. It had enjoyed these tender and weak foods. After seeing it, they would retreat in fear and resist meaninglessly. No one dared to face it directly.

The glittering eyes of the black-skinned food had been stimulating the few prides in the frost troll's mind, making it even more furious. Taking steps that made the valley tremble, waving a giant stick, the frost troll rushed towards Francis.

Francis quickly broke into the troll's attack range and showed his ferocity in an instant. His scimitar cut a bloody scar on the troll's outstretched arm, and then the scimitar cut along the arm towards the troll's head like cutting paper.

The monster, in a bad situation, immediately fought back, swinging his injured arm in an attempt to throw his opponent off. His brutal strength succeeded, but in the process his bloody arm received many more wounds.

Francis nearly broke one of its arms, the wounds were so deep in the flesh that blood was gushing out and the bone was visible.

The dark elves gained the advantage, but this advantage was not enough to decide the outcome. The powerful regenerative ability of the frost troll race had begun to show, and the wound on its arm was healing. Except for some ice stuck in the flesh, the troll's arm was only a little stiff compared to a few seconds ago.

The self-healing troll displayed its innate ferocity and swung its weapon violently at the dark elf. Suddenly, danger was rife and strong winds brushed against Francis' clothes.

Seeing all this, Dalia immediately planned to rush down to provide support, but then she was pulled back by John. For a moment, the confused priest did not notice the extraordinary arm strength displayed by the seemingly thin sorcerer.

"John?" She looked at the sorcerer who was trying to stop her in confusion.

"Calm down and think about what you should really do."

The fierce battle between Francis and the frost troll was not normal in the first place. John did not believe that the dark elves would fight a tall and stupid beast to such an extent. He was letting them win. Gorrik's rage would burn the opponent. This magic weapon could quickly destroy the troll's regeneration ability, and would not give the troll and the dark elf a chance to fight.

The reason he did this was simply to train the team's tacit understanding and promote the growth of the young priest who was not yet mature enough. Dark elves often did this, putting themselves in danger became a practical lesson, and the sorcerer was naturally happy to help Francis achieve his goal.

"We have to destroy the troll's regenerative ability."

"Use fire!" Dalia immediately understood what he meant. The little priest who had received combat training picked up the knowledge she had once forgotten. Perhaps even her mentor had not thought that someone would prepare such an ideal and safe teaching environment for her.

The tracer bullet hit the frost troll accurately from a high position, and the sacred fire burned on its thick fur. The troll paused for a moment before taking the tracer bullet, and at that time, John noticed the raised gesture of Lucien.

Amid Dalia's excited cheers, the frost troll roared in fear and fell before Francis's blade. Being able to be fought by several high-level professionals together, this frost troll died a worthy death.

Before John could savor the sense of accomplishment as an excellent teaching assistant, he heard the next teaching signal from Francis.

"John, take out the usable parts of it, with a knife."

In the snowy valley, a smile froze on the sorcerer's face.

(End of this chapter)