I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 47 The Dancer of Irithyll of the Valley

In his past life, as the leader of the Dark Souls group, Louise often tricked newcomers, such as recommending that they go kill old ladies as soon as they entered the High Walls. ▲Search "smash520.smash" on ▲

Watching the newcomers wail helplessly at the dancers and frantically post screenshots in the group chat criticizing him for cheating them, Louis would always let out a wicked yet gleeful laugh.

After all, seeing others suffer is also part of the joy.

"You'll get your comeuppance!!!!" That's what the newlyweds always say, but Louis never believed in fate. Who believes in karma these days?

But now, looking at the dancers struggling to break free in front of him, Louis's eyes welled up with tears.

Perhaps this is retribution.

He swallowed hard; this matter was definitely not going to end well today.

In his sight, the dancer struggled within the black mist, breaking free from the inexplicable restraints, and then landed gracefully and lightly on the ground.

Like the knights sent out by Pope Sulyvahn, the dancer's body was almost beast-like. Her proportions were extremely distorted; her slender body was hunched over, and her arms and legs were excessively long. The veil covering her head completely concealed her face, which was perhaps a good thing, as her appearance must have been severely damaged by her beast-like transformation, and this preserved a last shred of dignity.

The dancer held a flaming curved sword in her left hand, about the length of her arm. Sunlight streaming down from the dome shone on her sword, its cold, gleaming light sending a chill down one's spine.

For no apparent reason, a piece of advice unique to the Ashes popped into his mind.

There's the tunic area in front, so it's time for the tongue.

Louis shook his head, banishing the inappropriate, lewd advice from his mind, and kept a close eye on the dancer in case she suddenly attacked.

The dancer's steps were light and graceful. Unlike the others, she did not have a particularly high desire to attack. After she emerged from the black mist in the dome, she paced around the church, seemingly enjoying a long-lost freedom without constraints.

The entire church was deathly silent, with only the crisp "tap, tap, tap" sound of the dancers' footsteps audible.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in from outside the church, and at the same time, the dancer moved with it, raising her curved sword high and slashing down at Louis with her long legs!

Louis dared not be careless and quickly chanted incantations to prepare for protection.

"Protego!"

A tremendous force came from the wand, making his arm ache slightly. This was the first time he felt somewhat powerless.

He knew very well that he could only withstand two such attacks at most; any more than that and his armor would be broken.

You have gained 2000 points of Armor Protection Proficiency.

He quickly rolled away like a lazy donkey, the wind behind him like a knife, chilling his back to the bone.

With a loud crash, the dancer's curved sword struck the ground, producing a muffled thud.

True to her title as the Dancer of Irithyll of the Boreal Valley, she twisted her body in an incredible arc, extending her right hand, which was not holding a sword, to try and grab Louis.

Louis rolled away again, escaping the clutches of the devil.

It can only be said that while escaping is shameful, it is indeed quite useful.

If I get caught, the next thing I'll get is a sword through the heart. Don't ask, I've been caught dozens of times in the game.

"Sectumsempra! (The Unseen Blade)!"

The sharp spell, gleaming with an eerie light, slashed towards the dancer's head.

You have gained 1000 points of Divine Sharpness Proficiency.

This is the real world; there are no health bars like in games. Louis has no way of knowing what kind of damage his spell has actually caused to the dancer.

The dancer was struck by Louise, and a small gash appeared on her visor. She seemed to be in pain and swung her curved sword in a different direction, but Louise dodged quickly. Her curved sword struck the pillar, shattering the stone pillar with a loud crash.

Louis looked at the broken pillar and felt a chill run down his spine. If that sword had struck him, he could have been ready to start all over again.

Without hesitation, he turned and continued running. Sure enough, the dancer immediately followed up her sweeping attack with a spinning slash.

Louis decided to stop holding back, creating distance and unleashing seven or eight spells at the dancer's head without a shred of mercy.

Despite the curse, the dancer struck the chair where Louis had been standing.

Louis was running, and the dancer was chasing. She slashed at him seven times in quick succession, each sword as ghostly and relentless as a leech, narrowly missing Louis. There was not even the slightest space for him to release his spells, and the oppressive feeling was extremely strong.

Never before had he longed to learn Apparition more than he did now.

What kind of mage doesn't have Flash, you bastard!

His robe was torn, so he simply took it off and threw it aside, since it was in the way anyway. As he ran and took off his clothes, the dancer knelt on the ground, lightly pinched her right hand, pulled out a ball of orange-red flame from the ground, and squeezed it hard.

The shockwave from the explosion knocked Louis off his feet. The dancer seized the opportunity and thrust her curved sword downwards. Louis struggled backwards, and the sword, carried by the wind, pierced the ground between his legs.

He was covered in cold sweat. He flipped himself up from the ground and ran away without looking back, his hand reaching behind him to frantically unleash the Divine Sharpness without Shadow on the dancer.

Damn it, just ten centimeters short, just ten centimeters short! My senior is going to be a widow forever...

Do you know how much damage a thorn can cause to an eleven-year-old child?

The dancer ceased her pursuit of Louis, instead kneeling once more, black mist rising around her, engulfing the spells aimed at her. Her right hand pressed to the ground, and she slowly drew a straight sword, almost identical to the one before, from the black mist!

Her veil fluttered like a ghost behind her head, her arms raised, her eerie limbs twisting into a contorted arc.

That once gentle and charming woman danced what was once the lightest and most graceful dance in the world. Her body spun continuously, and she wielded two straight swords like windmills, elegantly extending an invitation to the Hell's Ball to Louis.

Louis was putting in all his strength; he believed that even Bolt couldn't run faster than he was now.

After all, there wasn't a sorrowful girl wielding twin swords behind Bolt.

The wind from the dancer's sword shattered everything in her path, from tables and chairs to pillars, leaving Louis with no choice but to flee for his life.

At this moment, his legs felt like they were filled with lead and began to move uncontrollably, while a rough, metallic taste slowly rose in his throat.

After all, humans are different from the ashes in the game; they don't have a green bar...

Without sufficient rest, physical strength cannot be replenished.

The dancer seemed to be dizzy from spinning; she lowered her head, and her movements stopped. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Louis unleashed several swift, invisible strikes on her veil, slicing off pieces of it.

In a flash, the dancer who had been struck suddenly looked up and leaped high into the air at a twisted angle, her curved sword aimed straight for Louis's throat!

At this point, Louis had nowhere to hide. The dancer's movements were too swift, so much so that he, leaning against the only remaining pillar, had no room to dodge.

He could only watch as the dancer's two swift swords, gleaming with cold light, pierced towards his throat.

In the dancer's eyes, the miniature ash before her seemed to have exhausted all his means, and her two curved swords had completely blocked all his escape routes.

A strange sense of regret flickered in her heart, which had long been sealed away by the Pope.

What a pity...

(End of this chapter)

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