The sword light flashed overhead and hit the pillar. Uriel jumped out of the shadows and struck his opponent's helmet with a sword. The golden sword left a deep, smooth mark between the steel patterns and passed through it without any delay. A normal person would be fatally injured, bleeding, and would fall into dizziness again. But the Black Knight was unmoved. Compared to Lord Cranky's fist, the apprentice could only slap his hand in his ear.
The demon lord turned around quickly, caught the moment when the apprentice's strength fell back, and lowered his elbows heavily. Uriel's shoulder felt like a blow. It hurt, of course, but he could bear it. A move that does not contribute to victory. The enemy will never stop here. He tilted his head instinctively, and the sharp sword scraped across his thigh, then whizzed upwards, grazing his chest and causing a wave of blood.
The apprentice almost dropped his sword in pain. He had no choice but to use the magic he had prepared on himself. The cold froze the blood and the frost closed the wounds, but not for long. A numbness spread through his limbs. The black knight turned his weapon, his movement was crisp, precise, and without any warning, and the twisted blade had already stabbed his ankle. Uriel pulled back his right foot, but also lost his balance. He fell down under a bush of ice thorns and really wanted to never get up.
But the enemy paid no attention to what he thought. The pale blade slashed into the frost thorns, bringing down large pieces of debris. Uriel walked around the ice spike and was about to move into the shadow on the opposite side, but suddenly found that it was a lot shorter and was not large enough to carry him.
The black knight struck the ice spike again, shattering it completely, and the snowflakes shone fluorescently. Maybe I didn't avoid him, Uriel realized, each failed slash was cutting off my retreat.
Finally they entered the open space. On the smooth ice, the reflection of the Black Knight looked like the devil from hell. Methodically, he swung his sword, taking away every inch of room Uriel could escape. It was empty under the moonlight, with no barriers or shadows, and only death as high as ever. Even Uriel couldn't help but feel despair. The Black Knight held the pale Bible high above his head.
Uriel staggered back and raised his sword to meet him.
The blades collided with almost no sound, and the golden sword shattered into pieces and turned into points of light. His fingers holding the sword quickly lost strength, and his muscles spasmed. The Rune Sword was his oath, but if he had to compete with the "Fragments of Truth", he would only end up with this.
At the critical moment, the apprentice lowered his head and struck the stone with the sword blade. The shards scraped across the eyebrows, leaving tiny cuts. The slightest deviation makes a world of difference. Uriel took a sharp breath, feeling a cramp in his lungs. I'm alive?
A flash of white. It was the cloak, the apprentice realized, but he failed to detect the other person's intention. The tip of the sword rotated lightly and suddenly reappeared in front of his eyes. Looking at the opponent's attire, it's hard to imagine that he can be so agile in a narrow space. The reminders of "spiritual vision" cannot be comprehensive...
They are too close. In the space of a heartbeat, Uriel suddenly felt that this moment seemed familiar. But he didn't have time to recall when exactly that happened and how he dodged it.
...but there was a sudden bang, and the sword blade tilted to the side. The air expanded with heat, and the Black Knight's arm suddenly caught fire, and the bright light dyed the steel armor a layer of orange.
God be damned. Uriel rolled sideways as hard as he could, escaped from the clearing, and got into the collapsed stone pillars. In the moment of relaxation, every wound on his body began to declare its presence. Since leaving the tower with the envoy, he has only had similar experiences in Six Finger Fort and Iron Dragon Port. Anyway, the plan came in handy after all.
Two yards away, the flames were still blazing, climbing onto the Black Knight's shoulders. But the Demon Lord is no candle. "Don't!" Uriel shouted. He couldn't help but think again. "Come back, York!"
A hand rested on his shoulder. "If you really noticed, I never went there." Sita reminded him in his ear. At this time, he has no entity and relies solely on vibrating air to speak. Fortunately, dreams do not repeat themselves in reality, and future changes are often only a matter of thought.
"Don't touch that sword." Uriel told them. "It has a special ability that will swallow the opponent's magic. I'm not sure where the limit of this ability is."
"My magic is gone." Sita stared at the Black Knight's arm, the flames on it had dissipated. "But weapons are no more dangerous than people. Who is this guy?"
Uriel didn't know how to answer for a moment. Sita disappeared before their eyes, seeming to dissolve into the air. Immediately afterwards, several meteors rushed into the main hall with brilliant tail flames and exploded next to the ice spikes. The black knight waved his sword to block, the heat wave lingering around him, but he was repelled by the mysterious absolute gap and could not get closer.
"Not friends anyway." Dalton emerged from behind them and supported the apprentice. "Could you deal with it instead of asking questions? You're bleeding, Uriel."
"I can't make time."
"Obviously," Drow said softly. "But you don't have to pick an enemy that you can't deal with, right? To be honest, Uriel, you won't happen to be facing Pope Gaia..." He suddenly paused. "Wait, man, look at his eyes! Are those undead? Is the Pope of the Church of Gaia a necromancer?"
That's really a disaster. At this critical moment, Uriel didn't know why Drow had such an outrageous association. He scrambled to regain consciousness, trying in vain to prop up his eyelids. It's completely useless. It's easier than this to stop the flood in the Garden of Flowing Waters. "He's not." Finally, the apprentice muttered. How do I explain this? Following Linde to search for Gandrias, he ended up running into a secret society of demon lords and law wizards fighting for some inexplicable Bible?
Perhaps you can't blame Dalton, there are many choices in the hall these days. "Tattooed" Jizuk's body was untouched, and his crown and robes were deceptive, just like his demeanor when he was alive. The body of another law wizard, "Weird Expert" Ozzie Cranky, disappeared into the rubble, and not even his suitcase could be found. The phantom of Hitarian poked his head out from behind the stone pillar, looking around in horror.
He heard Drow hiss lightly. "She...? What's going on?"
"Don't worry about it yet." Unexpectedly, Dalton still had time to observe the wizard. The existence of the corpse indeed caused troublesome questioning, but the Black Knight would not give him time to deal with it. "Spirit Vision" reminds me that you initially focused all your attention on the enemy. "Follow the previous steps."
"What?"
"Follow my command." The apprentice said as he withdrew his hand and held onto a large piece of gravel.
Zhuoer frowned, not knowing why. It seems he is not used to it yet. Fortunately, there is another guy who believes in the "prophecy" enough to string together his script. "York!" Uriel raised his voice, "It's time, Dalton said it's now!"
The night elves were stunned. "I didn't at all..." He turned and looked at the apprentice. "Also, how do you know? York...?"
...He didn't get an answer. Under the pressure of the enemy, the young Sita York showed his usual reckless, decisive and fearless style, and carried out Uriel's instructions without hesitation for a second. A violent flash of light filled the altar.
The black knight swung his sword with one hand, and the torrent of elements was turbulent, roaring to both sides, and crashed into the ruins. York's silhouette disappeared at the top of a pillar, followed closely by the magic sword. He raised his head in a dance and fell behind the pillar to avoid this thrilling counterattack.
For mysterious creatures, strong light will cause an unparalleled impact on their keen night vision, causing them to lose their initiative in a short period of time. But a dead person cannot judge based on common sense. Under the pitch-black helmet, two clusters of soul flames danced quietly, their eyes flickering, sharp and cold. More intense light and heat rushed towards him, but he turned a blind eye. The "Bible" track disappeared again, and the Undead Lord also started to get serious.
At this moment, a sticky fluid sensation passed through the skin. Uriel felt as if he was stuck in a quagmire, and his wounds stung more and more. It's not an illusion. Shadows are flowing, gathering into unknown depths, sending dangerous signals. I wonder if the Black Knight feels the same way. There is a huge difference between the sky realm and the ring realm, and the magic of York and Dalton is no exception, but for some reason, he is not worried at all.
Maybe they will give you a big surprise. Uriel narrowed his eyes and slowly sat down on the stone bricks. The sword wound on his chest kept heating and twitching, and the ice was melted by the blood. He felt as if his internal organs were about to fall out of the gaping hole.
After becoming a mysterious creature, Uriel suffered many injuries - from the undead, vampires, pagans, dark wizards, monks and even his mentor. However, having more scars does not mean that it will not hurt next time, it only means that there will be a next time. he thought as he inhaled hissingly. The magic covered the wound, and the flesh and blood grew rapidly, forming a thin film. There was no way I could raise the sword again until it fully recovered.
Uriel took out the scroll of oath and unfolded it in his hand. He silently counted the time, waiting for the next critical node to arrive.
…
The outpouring of magic brought emptiness, as if all the blood vessels in his body had been drained. Dalton knew why, but didn't like feeling that way. Fire is the basis for manipulating the mysteries, and there is no room for damage. The reduction of the soul will lead to physical weakness. He tries not to waste his magic power during daily exercise, so as not to be too tired to recover.
But now that the situation is critical, saving mana is a fool's errand. The fact that the enemy has deadly weapons is just the icing on the cake. The gap in mystery alone is difficult to make up, let alone combat skills - compared with him, Old Nightingale and the Chief Judge together can probably only be considered a novice alliance. They will be beaten to a pulp by the Knight of the Cross.
Dalton wondered how Uriel had supported it until now. Naturally, the Tower Messenger is very different from ordinary adventurers. He has almost forgotten the special methods of the Mysterious Fulcrum after being away from the Ashes Temple for too long.
There is one exception.
The Cathedral of Antrolos saw terrible battles, so much so that it is littered with debris. The light swayed in the night, creating a shadow-rich field that made him feel more intimate. The night of Tinudar is Dalton's main battlefield, precisely because the moon is only seen at night. The moon will bring the only light to the underworld.
But now he didn't need the moonlight.
"Sunless Legion"
The drow nailed the tip of the cursed sword to his own shadow, in which an astonishing number of shadow creatures were constantly gestating. However, there seemed to be no movement on the surface, only the amethyst in the counterweight position quickly dimmed until it was as dark as the night.
The light is still spreading. The full shadows began to overlap, layer after layer, becoming thicker and stiffer. Countless tiny runes emerge from the smooth cylinder of the rapier, and they are connected to each other to form a three-dimensional pattern that is as thin as spider silk and is too complex to be recognized. The cursed sword stood on the shadow and seemed to be floating on the water. Like a rope and a bridge, it bridges two worlds. What can I find this time? He waited.
Something grabbed the blade of the sword, causing it to feel like a heavy falling object. The handle almost fell out of my hands and slipped into the darkness. He quickly increased his strength. Heavier than ever before, but not the mass of the shadow, but the mysterious weight. Divine radiance brings the shadow of the abyss. Dalton must go all out to grasp the hilt of the sword. Unprecedented effort. After a few seconds, his arms began to tremble, but it wouldn't be easier if he were a strong man. Every inch of the rise was slow and sluggish, as if he was grabbing a mountain with his bare hands. He held his breath, feeling dizzy and nauseous.
In the dead silence, the light gradually faded, and the only sound was York's heavy breathing, the night wind blowing dust, and the scraping of the cloak across the ground. The light elements circle around helplessly, and the invisible ether illuminates the night sky, but cannot break through the mysterious class position. However, the undead dressed as a cross knight did not interrupt, did not interfere, or even made the slightest move. He stood quietly in the center, witnessing the mysterious arrival of the extreme opposite born under the light.
This was arrogance or composure, Dalton couldn't tell. He felt that he should have collected Master Kongjing of Antuoros, but when did the church have such a figure? To be honest, even the Lord of the Flame Moon who appeared on Gray Winged Bird Island was definitely not as scary as the opponent in front of him. But no matter what, the enemy's actions created opportunities, and Dalton had no reason to give up.
The crystal made a hissing sound, and then the plane suddenly expanded, stretching in all directions under its feet. At a quick glance, Dalton couldn't describe its outline, but he could feel the pressure quickly spreading throughout his body. A behemoth, coming from the bottomless abyss of shadow, a composite layer of lightless legions. It was created by his own hands, and the result was utterly alien.
()
"Wow." Sita York exclaimed, "What a big guy." He didn't look like he had just finished high-level magic. "Those should be scales?"
Dalton turned around and saw the tower messenger putting the parchment into his pocket. Tiny points of light flickered between his fingers and merged into the air. Well, I'm not the most disappointed anyway. "You'll never get a surprise again in your life, right?"
"Not necessarily. Some surprises never lose their value no matter how many times they are received." Uriel replied tactfully, "Well done, guys."
