Alien Knights

late at night.

South of Keepwatch Castle, Raven Forest.

The man with the heavy wooden box on his back ran under the quiet night sky, slipped sideways through the gaps in the boulders, and jumped over the low bushes. His figure was like a shadow shuttling through the darkness.

He looked back from time to time, but he didn't realize that sweat had already wet the back of his clothes.

The farther south you go, the denser the trees, the steeper the road, and the solid land is gradually replaced by soft wetlands.

The man looked up at the direction of the moon, then turned his head to listen to the movement around him. The sound of the wind blowing through the leaves and the sound of the grass hitting the stones made him clenched his fists nervously.

Climb up the mound next to him with hands and feet, just about to jump down the slope on the other side.

The sound of the crossbow breaking the wind suddenly exploded.

A crossbow arrow glowing with silver light shot at his ankle.

It was almost an instinctive reaction of the body, the man leaned to one side, pushed his feet forward, barely avoiding the attack.

Slowly getting up from the ground, he put the wooden box behind him on the ground, and shouted loudly towards the empty forest: "Come out! Church lackey!"

The sound of urn and urn resounded among the trees.

"Dirty rats in the sewers, always screaming so harshly before they die."

Three men and one woman walked slowly from the shadows into the moonlight.

The tall man at the front was wearing Anglo chain armor. Under the full iron mask, a pair of eyes without any emotion stared at the wooden box placed on the ground.

The chunky man with a crossbow put his weapon on his shoulders and looked at the wary escapee in front of him with mocking eyes. His voice was as low and rough as before: "Max Bourne, we have been following you for a long time, so long that you can't imagine."

Quietly pulling out the short sword from his waist, Marcos breathed evenly, and cut the skin with the blade. The blood flowed over the metal surface of the weapon, and instead of dripping into the soil as imagined, it was adsorbed on the surface of the sword body like grease.

After the blood covered the entire blade, Marcos tore open the hem of his clothes with his teeth, and used the torn strips of cloth as a bandage to bind up the wound.

"Let the horse come here."

He swung the sword blade into the air, and the violent friction under the vigorous swing ignited the whole short sword. The color of the flame was not the usual red and yellow, but a faint purple-black color.

The short and fat man narrowed his eyes slightly, put the crossbow on his chest again, took out a black crossbow bolt from his back, and said in a low voice, "The alien species of the 'sun'..."

The man in the iron mask shook his chain armor and took a step forward.

The woman covered in the church's white robe made a voice: "Boss, you don't have to do it yourself..."

The leader slowly pulled out the two-handed sword behind his back, plunged into the ground in front of him with a bang, and clearly and clearly expressed his order. The other three team members no longer objected, and retreated silently.

Marcos leaned the ignited dagger on his chest, and looked at the man standing still like a mountain not far away. The opponent's weapon was still stuck in the soil, and his figure did not move at all, but cold sweat slowly flowed down Marcos' face.

Stepping the toe of his right foot into the soil, a black flame like rising from hell rolled forward. The air and dust became scorched by the high temperature instantly, and the tip of Marcos' sword appeared in front of the leader in an instant.

The man whose face was completely covered in the iron armor moved, his foot kicked hard on the big sword in the soil, the huge force brought up the mud and fallen leaves, and hit Marcos' body, forcing the opponent's figure to stagnate for a moment.

The two-handed sword moved from the lower left to the upper right.

The swords collided, and the flames splashed.

The owner of the short sword was knocked out of shape by the force of this attack, and he staggered back a few steps.

The man in the iron mask inserted his weapon into the ground again, and put his hands on the hilt of his sword. He didn't take advantage of the victory to pursue, nor did he open his mouth to mock, but just waited...waited quietly.

Marcos knelt down on one knee, grabbed the tree trunk behind him with one hand, and inserted the short sword obliquely into a pool of water in the other hand. Not only was the flame on the sword not extinguished by the water, but it burned more and more vigorously. There was no trace of fear or frustration in his eyes, only burning endless fighting spirit.

For the first time, the eyes behind the iron mask showed a change of emotion. He nodded slightly, and the two-handed sword was pulled out of the soil. The leader raised his weapon for the first time, and assumed a fighting posture.

Another sword strike.

The deafening sound aroused the roar of animals deep in the dense forest.

The dagger was still barely in Marcos's hand, but the bloody jaws and distressed footsteps showed that the warrior was struggling.

The two sides played against each other for several rounds.

Taking advantage of the opponent's opening, the man in the iron mask reversed the hilt of his sword and hit the opponent's abdomen directly, forcing Marcos to let out a dull growl, and fell to his knees on the ground.

"Dead or Alive?"

The edge of the great sword pointed at the fallen man's chest. The leader of the team stopped the footsteps of the other three with one hand, and held the hilt of the sword with the other hand and said.

Marcos, who was kneeling on the ground, was trembling all over. He dropped the jagged dagger with his right hand and fell to the ground.

Seeing this scene, the other three in the team breathed a sigh of relief.

The chunky man put down the crossbow in his hand, and said disdainfully: "A mouse is a mouse..."

The voice did not fall.

It was a low chuckle at first, and then a wild laugh. Marcos suddenly stretched out his hands and firmly grasped the big sword of the man in the iron mask. He threw his body forward with all his strength, and the blade passed through his body from his chest to his back. A large amount of blood spattered out, none of which fell to the ground, but wrapped tightly around the sword and armor of the Man in the Iron Mask like a "shroud".

Spitting out blood, the alien stared at the eyes behind the steel with blood-red eyes, and said word by word: "Live to death!"

boom!

The blood that flowed out instantly burned, and the black and purple fire ignited ragingly, and the purgatory-like cage of flames swallowed the two of them.

"...Do you have any children?"

Marcos, who hugged the Man in the Iron Mask tightly, suddenly heard such a sentence when the flames were burning his whole body.

Thinking it was an auditory hallucination, he raised his head with the last of his strength and looked at the opponent in the karma.

"Do you have any children?"

After reconfirming, Marcos understood that this sentence was indeed spoken by the other party.

Marcos, who has not yet married, subconsciously shook his head, but a vivid black figure appeared in his mind.

As if he didn't care about the black and purple flames around him, the iron-masked man nodded slightly.

"That's good……"

The two-handed sword is drawn and cut, and it is done in one go.

Marcos, whose body and head were separated, the last thing he saw was...

The man in the iron mask, who was burning all over his body, stretched out the palm of his right hand to his chest, and the soaring flames were instantly sucked into his body, and only bursts of blue smoke rose slowly from the armor.

The battle is over.

The chunky man put away his weapon, pulled on his gloves, and picked up Marcos' head.

Looking at the shapeless remains burned by the flames in his hand, he shouted to the leader in the distance: "Boss, how much should this "sun" variant be labeled?"

The man in the iron mask picked up the wooden box on the ground, crushed the wood on the top of the box with one hand, looked at the full stones inside, and said without turning his head, "Five."

Hearing the words and answering yes, the short and fat man took out a delicate small iron box from his luggage and opened the lid. It was filled with iron seals, divided into two rows.

There are 22 seals in the upper row, and the words "Chariot", "Tower" and "Judgment" are respectively engraved in Latin; there are 12 seals in the lower row, and the numbers from "I" to "XII" are respectively engraved.

First, the seal with the word "Sun" was found in the upper row, and the seal with the word "Ⅴ" was found in the lower row. Then, the chunky man turned on the charcoal stove that he carried with him, roasted the seal on the red-hot coals for a while, and finally pressed it firmly on the forehead of Marcos' head.

"'Sun V'..." The chunky man put the dead man's head with the stamped seal into a cloth bag and put it in the luggage, and said in a low voice, "It's only five, I thought it would be higher."

Throwing away the wooden box in his hand, the man in the iron mask looked at the scattered stones and remained silent for a long time.

In the night sky, an owl flapped its wings and landed on the arm of the woman in white robe.

The woman teased the little messenger's little face, untied a round wooden tube from its ankle, took out the note inside, and read out the contents in front of the leader: "The village at the junction of the Falling Star Mountains and the Moon Creek Plain, the burned hut, the bodies of two people wanted by the church, the writings left in the cellar... "Nascentes_morimur"."

The man in the iron mask put the sword back on his back, looked towards the western plain, and said softly, "The Relief Society..."