He suspected that he had the gift of a nightingale rather than a warrior. The mentor never specifically taught him the art of assassination, but the sword in his hand felt like it was growing on his limbs. Uriel learned how to deal with heavy swords, rapiers, spears and daggers on the training ground. His mentor taught them everything. So far, he has only mastered one or two tenths of them, and his style has been deeply affected.
Maybe he learned it from his enemies. Since entering the mysterious realm, nearly half of Uriel's opponents have been nightingales. The nightingale of the church, the nightingale of the nobility, he learned from their failures again and again. The skill is no better than magic, and it can be recreated by touching it, but he has seen too many assassinations. Joy expanded his approach to knowledge from reading to practice, for which Uriel was grateful.
His enemies don't think so. The Olsson estate sent mercenaries to attack the church, and those cleaning up the battlefield would soon realize that the old bishop's body was not among them. This is why the nightingale catches up with them. The church's trap has failed, and a more dangerous ambush awaits in Olsson Manor. The enemy undoubtedly knew that Uriel would find this place with his companions, although they may not know why Uriel came. The apprentice didn't tell anyone outside the team about his purpose, at least not in reality. There is no need to mention the failed attempts in the dream.
The branches rang. "It's airtight," York whispered. He accidentally stepped on the lowest branch and jumped to the ground. "I saw the brush."
"Obviously, Nightingale failed to move the foundation of divine magic."
"Then what should we do?" Sita shook her arm, "We have to sneak in through the shadows."
"No." Uriel rejected, "Most assassins can use shadow magic, which allows their targets to know how to deal with threats in the dark." In the village church, he was almost caught by a magic that traveled through the shadows. . "We can't hide it."
"Then force it?"
"no way."
York was eager to try: "I haven't experimented with high-ring magic yet. How long do you think they can last?"
Presumably the opponent has never dealt with you Sita. "It depends on your level of mystery." Uriel grabbed the orange-faced man, "Wait a minute, you will be recognized like this, wearing a hat..."
"...It's useless. They will find out anyway." York withdrew his hand, "It was because I couldn't help much in Eastman. No one in Moniantoros recognized me."
Although the two countries are thousands of miles apart, they still share the same religious sects. Uriel couldn't say anything to stop it. In the final analysis, he went to York to participate in this matter just to drag him down, and now it is too late to regret. He regretted it too many times. Being wanted seemed like the least serious consequence compared to our target. I should have been burned to death.
Hope everything goes well. "Leave the brush and archer to me, you just need to rush over." Uriel climbed on the horse. These loyal animals were about to die, but there was nothing they could do about it. "Be careful, there may be a tripwire."
"I don't think so. We are outnumbered and only we would do this. The nightingales would be surprised."
“Hopefully we can continue to surprise them.”
Uriel had already driven his horse to run quickly, and the horse's hooves stepped on the grass and rushed down the hillside along the dirt road. He couldn't help but think of Mortus and the free horsemen galloping outside the walls of Dreamland. They are unscrupulous and do all kinds of evil. They and he are two different people. But the apprentice is still looking for common ground between the two.
York followed close behind him, dust flying in the night. The apprentice heard him urging his mount and soon passed him. Sita was not wearing a helmet, and her cloak was flying wildly behind her back. The dim light made him almost transparent. Uriel thought again of the journey to Bonfire Town, the winding black river shrouded in moonlight, and the battlements covered with roses and cracks. Maybe this is just another adventure.
In the blink of an eye, they rushed into the firing range of the city defense team.
Frost condensed on the palms of his hands. The apprentice let go of the reins and his mount moved forward blindly. He watched as the sacred words of the oath extended outwards, connecting and wrapping around the two ends of the bow arms. The horse galloped over the last slope, and he immediately released the arrow.
There was no sound under the night sky, and the arrows were thrown into the high wall of the manor from bottom to top, like birds flying up the branches.
"storm"!
It was as if dark clouds were falling from the sky, and the arrow screen silently disappeared into the wall. York looked up and saw steel snapping, brick walls crumbling, the arrow tower cracking from the inside like overheated porcelain, and rubble splattering. The lights in the distant manor suddenly went out. A few seconds later, a cold wind mixed with blood and dust blew in his face.
Sita whistled, and the sound was drowned in the violent explosion and the loud noise of collapse.
Uriel fired another arrow. The fallen ruins seemed to be washed away by floods, and a branch fell from the sky and fell on the apprentice's shoulder. They had rushed across the 20-yard dirt road and crashed into the manor through the ruined iron gate.
At this time, they finally ushered in a counterattack. Crossbows, feather arrows, oil bottles and spears were all thrown towards the door. The Cross Knight emerged from the bunker and the house, and Uriel only saw a black shadow. These nightingales can no longer hide. He let go and grabbed the flying reins, and the bow and arrow fell into the dust of the horse's hooves. York was still moving forward, a full five yards away from him, which was even closer than the impending arrow. Uriel drew the rune sword and raised it high.
I am afraid that these nightingales of the church have never thought of seeing such a scene in their lives - light bursting out from the enemy's golden sword blade, and a bright star seemed to rise silently in the courtyard of the manor. But this is Gaia's divine light, not Lucia's. The tough magical barrier expanded outwards, encompassing the attackers in front. Then, the spreading light suddenly knocked away the attacking knights, and then turned the long-range counterattack into nothing. Uriel even saw the shock on their faces.
After Blumnot learned of Father Fielding's numerous crimes, I was no better than you. This is the surprise. "York!" he warned.
The young mercenary was already ready. In front of him was a makeshift formation. A row of cross knights raised their spears behind the shield wall, blocking the path of the charging horses. The strong wind blew up gravel and jingled against their armor. York whipped his riding whip sharply, his horse whinniing and accelerating, but there was only the sound of hoofbeats in his ears. A heartbeat later, the barrier shattered in front of a spear, and the steel penetrated the chest of the war horse and penetrated from the back of the neck. In the cracked light and shadow, York spilled into the gap in the shield wall like a ball of flames, and the blood of his horse also fell behind him.
"Kill them!" a voice shouted. "Execute the heretics!" was another voice. "No, he is a heretic." He finally concluded.
Uriel knew that these were not the sounds of their enemies. The cross knights surrounded them, roaring and shouting behind their shields and spears, and then were dispersed by magic. The apprentice's shelter only lasted for more than ten seconds. The difference in mystery was an unbreakable barrier. But those secretive killers, those fanatic believers who throw themselves into the shadows, those nightingales flying under the night - still remain silent. Their song is a song of murder and carnage, heard only by the dying. But in front of Uriel, their daggers could never sing.
He swung his sword, and magic burst out from his fingers. Even the rune sword trembled, as if it was bearing too much weight. His horse whined, but carried him onward. Firework-like light bands lit up in the smoke and dust in the night sky, and the sword light was like a full moon, flickering and bursting on the dark armor.
The nearest knights of the cross were hit by boulders, and they flew over the low wall without any resistance, turning into corpses in mid-air. Seeing the blood flowing out of the broken breastplate and the bones breaking through the leather, even the most fanatical monk instinctively stopped at this moment. They were not unconscious dead people after all.
Uriel was finally able to take a moment to breathe. The magic power consumed by that sword was comparable to the sum of the magic used previously. The blade is infused with rage and hatred, capable of cleaving through almost any obstacle. It's just an illusion. These knights were not easy to deal with, and he had to stay in shape.
The assassin connected the attack and set the rhythm. Uriel felt the ripples of magic power and raised his sword back without looking back. With a crisp sound, the assassin's dagger was cut into two pieces, and the fragments scratched the leather armor on his back. His arm did not slow down due to the sluggishness. If the other party had not stopped in time, he would have cut his throat at this moment. luck. But luck isn't everything. Uriel struggled with inertia halfway, and the divine sword slashed at the assassin, forcing the enemy to the side.
The white robe passed by in front of his eyes, but Uriel did not take action because of it. This is not the first time he has rushed into Olsson Manor... last time he attacked immediately, but only cut the knight's cloak, this time he will not make a mistake. The details were embedded in his mind, and using "spiritual vision" in the short intervals of battle was a combat method that Uriel was gradually becoming proficient in. He cut off the head, not knowing to whom it belonged.
The spear cut through his greaves, and Uriel had to give up the assassin and turn his sword to deal with the approaching knight. The light of divine magic suddenly rose and exploded, making the field of vision completely white. Unfortunately, magic was still the best direction. The apprentice stabbed his sword into his stomach, twisted his wrist to withdraw the weapon, and slowly dragged the body to the ground with his weight. Just as Uriel was about to move forward, he was stabbed in the back. He could feel a crack being cut into the leather armor and couldn't help but take a deep breath.
"Praise to Loneliness"
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