The world doesn't need succubi to save it.

"Don't worry, Andrew, everyone's current goal is the same, and we won't attack our allies."

Andrew nodded silently, feeling no goodwill whatsoever towards the seemingly easy-going middle-aged man in front of him who was staring at him intently.

[Bloody Hand] Charles, one of the leaders of the contestants' alliance, is also a "suspected" Tier 4 whose overall combat strength ranks among the top ten.

Andrew, on the other hand, knew much more. He was well aware of how Charles had earned the nickname "Bloody Hand" and understood just how ruthless he was.

"Okay, you rest first, I'll go check on the others."

Charles walked away understandingly and went to continue socializing with the other wary contestants.

Andrew held his wine glass, looking at the grand banquet being held by the "Contestants' Alliance," and found it all strange and absurd.

At a time like this, they're actually holding a banquet?

Finding them is surprisingly easy.

They loudly proclaimed their existence, extending tempting olive branches to those around them.

After walking around the noble district for a short while, Andrew saw the coded messages written in modern script left by these people. After thinking about it, he followed the signs and came to the villa.

This place originally belonged to a poor duke, but his entire family, including guards and maids, were slaughtered by Charles and a few other contestants during the day.

Then they voluntarily contributed it, and the alliances took over and chose it as their activity base.

It wasn't that no one questioned their actions, but Charles managed to convince them with the argument that "those guys are all fake, it's just a competition."

Using the excuse of going to the washroom, Andrew thought for a moment and then tore up a simplified prophecy he had prepared and threw it into the candlestick to burn.

"We can't trust them."

If these people receive the prophecy, who knows what even more outrageous things they might do.

Silently shaking his head, Andrew calmed down after discovering that there was no trace of Ning Feng here.

"Let's go, they..."

As Andrew pondered how to escape, he noticed bloodstains on the ground.

It looked like traces left after a body had been dragged away, marks that hadn't been wiped clean.

Frowning, Andrew looked around, but finally followed the remaining trail slowly.

They arrived at a basement that had been haphazardly locked and saw blood seeping from the crack in the middle door, blood that was already beginning to darken.

"This is……"

After cautiously glancing around, Andrew quickly unlocked the door once he was sure no one would approach in the short term.

The old, shabby door lock clicked open.

Taking a deep breath, Andrew forcefully pushed the door open, almost silently, and peeked inside...

!

!

"...Tsk!"

Chapter 214 Go, Go Get Your Revenge (Seeking guaranteed monthly votes at the beginning of the month!!!)

Blood splattered, metal clashed.

The narrow corridor was not suitable for wielding such a large weapon as a greatsword, but the king did not seem to care.

He did not move the location, but stood there and dealt with the assassin's attacks one after another, repelling her each time.

With each step the king took, he stepped in the direction Fran had to retreat, forcing her to back down.

Even though he was just one person, he gave her the feeling of an entire army!

"Cough...cough cough, you're really strong."

Forced back once again, Fran wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and suddenly asked:

"Did you see an idiot before? He was dressed like me, and he was probably carrying a special crossbow."

He wanted to continue describing his companion's idiotic face, but the king had already coldly spoken:

"died."

"A worthless piece of trash."

His tone was full of disdain, as if he were picking up a grasshopper that had casually jumped onto him.

Fran grinned, agreeing with the king's assessment, and said with a smile:

"Haha, I agree with you. That guy is indeed a man who has nothing strong except for his pride."

"The other idiots are the same. I wish they could face you directly too."

What good would it do if you bunch of self-righteous guys got together?

You want to threaten this kind of person?

That's so interesting!

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating a dimly lit corridor.

The female assassin is still covered in other people's blood, but unfortunately, she is in much worse condition than before.

The disparity in strength between the two sides is simply too great.

Even if she has the advantage in speed, she could be crippled if she is grazed by the opponent's attack even once.

Moreover, the opponent, outside the greatsword, would also swing heavy punches like heavy weapons.

She touched her stomach; if she hadn't dodged in time, the king's heavy punch could have pierced right through her.

"What kind of power is this... He's a monster."

Even Fran, who always fought with a frenzied style, had to admit at this moment that she really couldn't defeat him.

In terms of close combat alone, his fighting ability among the fourth-tier fighters is definitely among the strongest.

Even with only the physical attributes of an ordinary person, his combat ability would definitely be stronger than that of many second-tier awakened individuals.

With experience and skill, it's not a fantasy to win against a stronger opponent.

But even if you can use minimal force to achieve maximum effect, the difference between the two factors still needs to be relatively small.

Based on her calculations from the battle just now, this king was clearly just an ordinary person, but the power he displayed even gave Fran the illusion that she was facing a third-tier awakened being.

Pure strength and combat skills can actually reach this level...

It's simply unbelievable!

He possesses superb natural strength, superb combat skills, and a disdainful attitude towards his enemies.

Really can't beat it.

"We can't win. It seems that brute force really won't work..."

If she can't even beat herself in this state, then Fran definitely can't do it either, as do the other contestants present.

"We need to find an opportunity to retreat."

She does enjoy fighting strong opponents, but she's not really the kind of crazy person who relies on sheer willpower to get to the end.

The situation on the field was gradually taken over by the king, and by the time Fran realized it, she had been forced to the end of the corridor.

"Create an opening during the next exchange... Good!"

Breathing heavily, Fran once again launched a fearless charge towards the king!

This time was slightly different. Just as the king was getting ready to strike, she suddenly accelerated and rushed outwards.

"Ok?"

very good!

The image he had been building up was very successful, and the king never expected the assassin to suddenly change his fighting style.

Successful.

Fran sped up again as she passed through the King's Palace, much faster than Shirin had run away before!

The instant thunder roared in the sky, most of her body had already passed through the king.

boom!

winter.

At that very moment, Fran seemed to hear an illusory bell ringing in her ears.

A total of 305 participants have successfully advanced to the second group!

Congratulations everyone! You've reached the next level of prizes!

The voice whispered in her ear:

[Rainy night, royal city, stranger from afar.]

It was as if she were describing her future.

Blood, slaughter, the messenger of death.

Her body stiffened for a moment, then the dormant power suddenly erupted, increasing Fran's speed once again.

But the changes aren't just reflected in the participants...

At the same moment, a raging fire of the soul burned his entire body, and the king's flesh and skin vanished instantly. His sword-wielding speed increased dramatically in an instant!

He cleanly and decisively severed Fran's forearm!

"Tsk!"

The arm that had been thrown off landed on the ground, but Fran still managed to escape from the king's presence, even at the cost of that arm.

The mask was slashed off by the sword energy during the previous exchange, revealing a face that looked remarkably youthful compared to his physique; he appeared to be only eighteen or nineteen years old.

But her seemingly young face lacked the naivety that befits her age; instead, it was filled with wildness.

There was a deep wound on his left cheek that almost went through his joint, but strangely, no blood flowed from it; instead, it was slowly healing.

With a swift movement, Fran picked up her severed arm and pressed it forcefully against the broken end.