NOVPUB
Chapter 747: Chapter 677: Top-Level Art
(Will update then revise)
For those eager to begin the battle, the distance of less than a hundred feet that the Berserk Demons had to cover felt intolerably slow, although in reality it was but a few breaths’ time.
Finally, the Berserk Demon at the forefront made a fierce leap, covering the last stretch of distance. While opening its strong arms wide, it planned to tear apart the Human Knight before it—this was, of course, a terrible choice. The demon exposed its chest completely to its opponent, and without wings, there was no chance to dodge while mid-air.
Lancelot certainly would not miss such an opportunity. His figure surged forward abruptly, like a crossbow arrow released from its trigger, his hand half sword thrusting forward like a long spear. He gouged out a fist-sized hole in the chest of the goat-headed Berserk Demon and then, as if pulled back by a rope, instantly returned to his original position. 𝑛𝘰𝑣𝑝𝑢𝑏.𝘤𝑜𝘮
Aside from the physical prowess beyond human limits that came after Foundation Establishment, Lancelot did not employ any Spiritual Cultivator’s powers in that strike. After all, there was a Demon watching nearby, and he did not wish to rashly reveal his true strength.
The hefty body of the Demon crashed heavily to the ground, rigid as if it were a log, tripping up two of its kind following close behind. Bruto and Alamir obviously did not miss such an opportunity. The former rolled on the spot, crushing an enemy’s knee with his warhammer before even standing up, and blocked the counterattack with his shield. The Elf Priest, without any flourish, swung his Hardhead Hammer—in that instant, the Priest’s magic weapon shone like a lighthouse in the night, and the demon struck began to melt like chocolate beside a furnace, its power was so great that even Lancelot could not help but look twice.
"Holy Weapon, Divine Arts of the Fifth Circle," the Elf Priest shrugged at his surprised companion. "Plus the ability of the Domain of Life Priest’s Holy Strike and the Hammer of Dissolution’s own effect, it’s definitely not inferior to the Holy Warrior’s Evilbane Slash... provided it hits."
"Understood."
Lancelot nodded, his longsword drawing a figure in the air before pulling back, causing another enemy lunging at him to lose balance and stumble forwards, then struck true by Alamir’s Hardhead Hammer, known as the Fiend Melter.
"That’s the way," the Elf Priest said with a broad smile, "Team cooperation always makes everyone’s efficiency higher..."
The female Demon standing not far away widened her eyes in surprise. The battle maneuvers of the Human Knight were elegant and swift, without a single superfluous motion, yet they seemed extravagantly gorgeous. With every move, those strong and fierce enemies were dissected as if by a chef’s knife, and this succinct and poignant violence was a premier art form to the denizens of Hell. Even the female Demon, who preferred seducing mortals into falling, could not resist the unique charm radiated by the Human Knight at that moment.
While the three companions were fighting hard, guarding, and Kalalin was continuously casting spells, there was also a concealed figure silently weaving through the battlefield—the Vampiric Wanderer, little Isabella, who had recently received special training from an ancient Vampire brought in by Tijana. Even Lancelot had barely noticed the girl’s movements until he saw her appear behind a Demon that had just been hammered by a Dwarf, her fingers deftly slicing open the pouch containing the spoils of war, then fading into the interplay of shadows without a trace.
The dead that fell from the Demon’s magic container were only the size of a fist, like potatoes rolling out of a farmer’s basket, but in less time than a heartbeat they returned to their full size, piling up into a small mound of people. Most of the liberated captives attempted to flee as soon as they could move freely; some Demons tried to recapture their prizes, but without those magic pouches, they couldn’t hold on to anything.
Additionally, their attacks had an effect Lancelot had completely not anticipated—limbs torn off, bodies ripped apart, even heads bitten off, but just a short while later, the destroyed body parts would reattach themselves to those people, looking as if nothing had ever happened, although the screams they let out while being dismembered sounded agonizingly real.
"Wow, did you guys see that?" Bruto exclaimed in surprise, "Elves! Do you know what’s going on?"
"Of course!" Alamir lifted his shield high to block a weak strike from an unsteady enemy, "They are all the dead! Not the Undead kind, but truly dead!"
"So what?" Bruto ducked low, moving behind another Berserk Demon Lancelot had blinded, "Baby! I’m right here, yes, turn around, eat my hammer!!!"
"Their! Bodies! Are nothing but the soul’s! Echo with this plane!" The Elf Priest, with one hand holding the shield against the enemy’s body and the other pressing the blindingly bright Nail-headed Hammer firmly against the opponent’s chest, explained, "Attacking them is like attacking a reflection in the water, although it looks like damage has been inflicted, but as soon as the water calms down, everything returns to its original state!"
"Uh... I think I understood that... Big brother, how many enemies are left?"
"Six," Lancelot spun rapidly, then stabbed backwards at a strange angle, "...now there are only five left. Kalalin, can you hold on?"
"I... am... reaching my limit..." The Scholar spoke tremblingly, sounding as if he had been holding some heavy object for a long time, "Hurry up..."
"No worries, little Isha already cut open the enemy’s pockets." Lancelot, looking at ease, dodged twice in quick succession, causing yet another enemy’s attack to miss completely, "You can stop now."
Upon hearing this, Kalalin immediately dismissed the magic, and some kind of invisible backlash threw him dozens of feet into the air, then he fell back to the ground with a heavy thud—fortunately, having been in the Abyss for so long, Kalalin’s physical condition had greatly improved, and the moment he landed, he rolled instinctively, successfully minimizing the damage.
The few Demons that were still alive were relatively more clever, and upon seeing that the Portal had started operating again, they turned and fled without a moment’s hesitation, fearing that lingering would leave them behind their companions. Lancelot had no intention to pursue. He had done enough, and if the enemies chose to flee empty-handed, he felt no need to chase them down to the death.
But while Lancelot was willing to let them go, there were others who were not.
