The sound of the explosion hits the eardrums, and the vibration makes the vision spin. The actions of mortals will be seriously disturbed, but the mysterious creatures will only be slightly delayed. In the blink of an eye, the arrows tore through the smoke and fell around like raindrops, causing golden ripples.
"Uriel!" York shouted, "This way!"
The apprentice tried his best to withdraw from the arrow screen, leaving the magical barrier in place. It is just a temporary measure, and the magic will be penetrated by fierce attacks. He crossed the ridge in two steps, just out of the way of the witch's ray that brushed the chimney. This type of spell is the same as the arrows of "Windspeaker" Aldinite. His ability to avoid them is purely luck. Seeing them blast through the tiled roof a few yards away, Uriel jumped onto the second-floor balcony without hesitation.
A hand gave him a tug. The air took away a few blown hairs like a knife, almost cutting his forehead. Uriel quickly rolled down the railing. "Damn it!" He didn't notice the assassin's sneak attack at all.
Nightingale chased after her, her soles lightly touched the wall, and her whole body fell straight down smoothly. If there was no apprentice to block him, his dagger would probably hit the ground before his shoulder. Uriel stretched out his hand to grab the edge of the wall and threw the golden sword over his head. The rune chain hit Nightingale's wrist, and then tightened around him, hanging him under the balcony and shaking him. The wooden pole sank suddenly, but finally held up with a creak.
The owner of the house screamed.
She probably wouldn't like the new clothes on the clothes rail, but Uriel couldn't help it. Church Nightingale chose to start the war in the city. He guessed that they originally planned to solve the problem quietly in the alleys to avoid the locals. But it's not York's style to settle things quietly. Although Uriel's fire noticed the abnormality before York himself was attacked, by the time he rushed over, the flames had already spread to the other side of the street.
The enemies this time were more difficult to deal with than the Olsson Manor, and their numbers were only much larger. Uriel and Dalton rushed to help, but were held back by an endless stream of nightingales. When the tongues of flames melted the ground, they had no choice but to climb to a higher place to face the rain of arrows. Dalton planned to use his shadow to escape the siege, but there were enemies everywhere. The opponent has complete control over his existence and sends people to keep an eye on every shadow.
"Go away!" someone shouted. He was not wearing a helmet, and only his breastplate shone brightly in the dust. A Cross Knight's half sword was waved back and forth in demonstration towards the mistress. After she escaped, the knight pounced on Uriel, but Dalton punched him halfway and broke his nose. When he fell, the sword slid across the floor non-threateningly. Uriel picked it up and slashed the nightingale's throat with a wave of his hand. Hot blood spilled down like a spring, soaking the stone slabs.
But his counterattack was just that. The air suddenly solidified and hit the apprentice's ribs. He let go of his hand due to the sudden pain and fell to the ground with a large piece of plaster fragments.
This time it was replaced by pain. Uriel was dizzy and his knees and arms were bleeding. The Cross Knight's sword was thrown aside, and he grabbed his neck with both hands, trying to pry open the non-existent fingers. However, the air is still getting less and less. Is this magic or witchcraft? He instinctively kicked to the side, whereas before training the apprentice would have kicked in front. Joey used the stick to change his instinctive reaction.
A muffled groan filled the air as Uriel's boot hit something soft. Nightingale didn't wear armor when she made a sneak attack, he remembered. The restraints are relaxed at the same time. The apprentice groped for the assassin, drove his knee into the man's stomach, and heard another cry of agony - which led him to his enemy's head. Uriel picked up this guy and smashed it against the stone wall behind him. He must have exerted too much force, as the assassin's cry was replaced by a scalp-numbing cracking sound.
The stone wall collapsed under the influence of magic. Uriel's vision suddenly went dark, and the perception of fire completely took over the world. He soon realized that the enemy was using some kind of vision-stealing mystery. But it only focused him. Someone surrounded him from the front, and another enemy approached from behind. The six people, he silently calculated, were all mysterious creatures and warriors who had experienced hundreds of battles. Of course Tedonaradu would not send low-level killers to die. These people were not only ring-level, but also specialized in fighting skills, which even the Cross Knights could not match.
Uriel wished he had just picked up the sword, but that was just a wish. He is unarmed and can only identify danger through the magic of his enemies, who are both numerically superior and equipped with sharp blades. The apprentice directs the magical chains to stab them, but the runes hit the tough barrier - the Church of Gaia will naturally also use the shelter.
"Heretics, why don't you submit?" Nightingale said. This is a completely unfamiliar voice. Tedonaradu did not come in person. He closed in on the apprentice with his long sword.
Dalton had saved his life when he jumped off a roof, but now he was tripped by his enemy. Sita York is further away and is just as difficult to rescue as Kamaria. No need to ask for help. Uriel recognized the magic power driven by the nightingale and rushed to the left. The sound of wind passed by, and the dagger pierced his upper arm with a violent mystery. He couldn't help but grit his teeth, and his magic power surged wildly.
…His opponent screamed for him, a sound so eerie that it didn’t even resemble a human voice. Cold spikes rose from the ground, piercing through flesh and blood. Two of the six people died on the spot, including the priest who performed the magic. Uriel felt a chill flowing back through his body, freezing his blood vessels, and the light that burst in front of his eyes could only barely lift his spirits.
After becoming a high-level person, the magic of the Sky Realm does not seem to be unbearable, but it turns out that the difference between the mysteries is also huge. The magic from the White Envoy cannot even control the "Evocation of the Holy Word". However, although Uriel failed to reproduce one-tenth of its power, the damage caused was quite astonishing. He opened his eyes and saw the miserable state of his enemy, and almost turned around and vomited.
It goes without saying that the dead are dead, but the living just want a quick death. He had landed in a deep alley, and now the landscape looked more like an ice cellar. Ice spikes half as tall as a man are branching out in all directions, like a dense forest after frost, but the branches, leaves and trunks are blood red. A man was disemboweled and wailed at the sight of his entrails hanging from ice spikes. The two fringe Nightingales tried to retreat and were pinned to the ground. Only the nearest one was intact, and Uriel instinctively pulled the dagger from his shoulder and slashed it across its master's neck. There was actually a hint of gratitude in this guy's eyes.
"Gods have mercy." As he breathed, the magic power of the scroll of oath flowed into his body, slowly driving away the chill. Uriel shivered the whole time. He tried his best to move his numb fingers to speed up the recovery of feeling. Sauron once said that he is more resistant to freezing. Hopefully it wasn't teasing him, a new enemy had arrived. There are too few of us. Uriel heard the piercing sounds of crashes and scraping weapons from the attic, and saw the flames staining the sky at the end of the alley. The battle is far from over.
But he was so tired and had so many wounds that it was almost impossible to raise his sword to face the enemy. The golden sword disappeared due to the previous burst of magic power, and after condensing again, it became a light rapier. Even this takes effort. How many more times do I have to swing it? The apprentice doesn't even want to think.
"Put down your weapons and surrender," said Nightingale, who was taking his place. He was carrying an ax and pretending to be a woodcutter. Danlaw is the home base of Nightingale, and maybe this guy was collecting firewood two hours ago. "Otherwise you will be even worse off than them." The sharp blade flashed cold light.
"I don't think so." Uriel attacked first, aiming his sword at the throat. The opponent raised his ax and struck. The shock of the steel impact almost made him let go, but not nearly. The rapier slashed across the ax blade, and the apprentice rolled forward, dodging the hammer flying from behind. The fatal blow smashed into the stone slab, and the ax struck between the ice spikes.
Frost climbed up the length of the weapon's shaft, and the woodcutter failed to draw his ax in time. Uriel gasped violently, his lungs filled with cold air. The apprentice just raised his hand and the slender weapon sank into his opponent's belly.
The woodcutter's expression changed and he sat down in pain. There is no rest time on the battlefield, and damaged organs are difficult to repair quickly, which means death will come slowly. If nothing unexpected happens, this guy will curse me until he dies.
Uriel stood up straight with his sword in hand, his own heavy breathing filling his ears. Two yards away, a Knight of the Cross turned and ran away in horror. He had absolutely no energy to chase after him.
This cannot go on. Dalton and York's magic isn't infinite, but their enemies are. We are like fighting against the waves in the ocean. The apprentice thought that sooner or later he would be flooded. He sank into the shadows and crossed three floors to find Dalton.
At this moment, Drow was fighting an invisible enemy. Their duel is almost impossible to catch with the eye. Sometimes there was the sound of steel scraping in the air, and sometimes dazzling sparks shot out. They jump across rooftops, stairs and closets. Uriel simply couldn't find his target. An outstanding nightingale may not be very powerful, but it must be deadly enough.
The night elves are at a disadvantage, but that's just because their mystery cannot be used in the city. The opponent's class and skill are all in the service of swiftness, and he flits back and forth like a true nightingale, trying to anger the drow. He really looked down on Dalton. The shadow is as quiet as the water, unmoved by any provocation.
He waited until Nightingale fell into a sluggish state after exerting his strength, and then he started to fight back. The cursed sword flew away daggers, pierced armor, and bit the heart with poison. The guy finally stopped running and slowed down by the stone table. Uriel saw a dark-skinned man reaching out to him, his face twitching. As the long and narrow shadow at the corner of the table suddenly rose, a large stream of purple-black blood spurted out from his chest and dripped down the chair legs.
"Was that Sauron just now?" Dalton's voice appeared on the left. Uriel turned his head.
Anti-collection, automatic loading fails, click to load manually, reading mode is not supported!
Transcoding and reading mode are prohibited. The following content is hidden. Please exit reading mode!
