Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1443 1415. The Old Hunter

Dorrigare was still in shock, running and sprinting down from the Gastang Palace out of breath.

He was the royal advisor of King Esain of Sidaris, and also a senior professor at the Ban Ade College.

Just as Philippa Ehart had arranged before.

The secret capture and detention of traitors among wizards required the presence of people from the neutral kingdom to serve as witnesses and narrators of the incident in the Gastang Palace.

Judging from the wizard's current sprinting speed and expression, he was undoubtedly no longer welcome.

Dorrigare had fled to the huge stone bridge.

He was not familiar with Aretusa, so he didn't know that the bridge had actually been repaired.

He was still looking for black squares on the bridge like a chessboard, just like before, which undoubtedly delayed his time.

It was not difficult for the wizard to solve this problem, especially since he was not wearing the magic-blocking golden shackles on his hands, and the forbidden magic circle of the Gastang Palace had been destroyed along with the entire tower.

He only needed to say a short spell and output a small amount of magic power steadily, and he could use the floating spell to allow himself to cross the bridge safely.

But he didn't have time!

He didn't even have this little bit of time!

With a "whoosh", the sound was as light as a cold wind blowing.

Then an arrow brushed against Doregare's arm and shot onto the ground of the stone bridge, breaking into two pieces under the impact.

Doregare's already soaked body suddenly broke out in a cold sweat again! At the same time, his heart was beating! His breathing became rapid and his saliva became sticky!

If he hadn't moved sideways to walk on the black grid just now, the arrow would have been stuck in his back!

Doregare was not a wizard who was good at fighting, and he had never been so close to death!

The accelerated heartbeat and chaotic mind were out of his control! He couldn't cast a spell smoothly in this state!

If he had this ability, wouldn't he just cast a floating spell and jump from the tower to the sea in the Gastang Palace where there were no restrictions on casting spells?

But in the short period of time after the horrific incident, the mages who were not good at fighting did not realize this method at the first time.

And the mages who were better at fighting were targeted and cleared.

Then the big ship carrying hundreds of squirrels flew straight up from the sea! Crashed!

So the mages who were raided and killed by the squirrels had no chance to breathe and cast spells smoothly.

They dared to cast offensive magic, after all, they were all cast with magic power.

But who dared to cast the floating spell fixed around them and on their bodies when their magic power and thoughts were unstable?

Wizards were the people who knew the dangers and weirdness of chaotic magic the most.

Dorrigare hadn't had time to congratulate himself for avoiding an arrow by moving in a way that specifically looked for black grids, and then his heart sank.

The way to move in a way that specifically looked for black grids was too obvious!

The archers of the Squirrel Party were all elf archers, and they couldn't escape their arrows even if they rode their horses and ran irregularly. How could he avoid the first arrow but not the second arrow with such an obvious movement pattern!

His mind had already turned sharply downward, and Dorrigare felt his whole body stiff.

The friction of the fine deerskin boots stepping on the stone slabs seemed to be scraping his bones!

But his stiff body still stepped on the next black grid according to the previous plan.

Not everyone can be meticulous, break through the limit, be calm and sharp at a critical moment, and let their thinking and wit lead them to overcome danger and difficulties.

People like Dorrigare are the majority. Even if they have realized that the next step will be death, his mind is in a mess, and he can't think at all now.

So the body would only continue to move towards death stiffly.

Faintly, Dorrigare even had auditory hallucinations.

He thought he could hear the laughter of the Squirrel Party behind him. The elves were laughing and discussing how many humans they had killed.

But the elves didn't know that wizards were already the most accepting and sympathetic group of non-human races in the world.

Even among the topics of this meeting, there was the topic of "discussion and containment of the growing racial discrimination" jointly joined by Tishaya and Heng Gedimitis.

'No'

Dorrigare couldn't control his scattered thoughts at the moment, and he was thinking about it without limit.

'Even if the Squirrel Party knew, they probably wouldn't care. After all, Emperor Emhyr and Francesca of Nilfgaard, their conditions were obviously better. '

At this moment, Dorrigare had begun to feel phantom pain in his lungs.

The arrow inserted from the back would most likely injure the lungs.

But just when the wizard himself was numb.

"Hu~"

A wisp of deep green smoke passed by Doregare like the wind!

Doregare's stiff footsteps finally landed on the next piece of black ground, but he was not dead, and his lungs were not pierced by the arrows that pierced from his back.

On the contrary, from the direction behind him, there came a shrill scream and shriek.

The screams sounded one after another, but because the speed was too fast, it sounded like a large number of them suddenly sounded.

Doregare was still jumping on the black grid stiffly.

But then, he felt his collar tightened, and he was pushed onto the railing of the stone bridge, with his head pressed against it, as if he was pressed on a wooden stake specially used for beheading.

The wizard began to scream and struggle unconsciously, but it was all in vain.

A short knife with a sharp curved arc and a material that looked old but deep, the blade pressed against his throat.

As the Adam's apple rolled up and down nervously, Dorrigare felt that his skin was about to be pressed against the Adam's apple, cutting a hole on the blade.

A leather glove, full of blood and sticky and slippery texture, was scratching his screaming head.

The smelly blood was smeared on Dorrigare's face and hair during this process.

Finally, when his hair was wet and began to stick to his scalp, his ears were exposed.

Then, the wizard heard a muffled whisper: "Not pointy ears, and not killing people. It seems that you are not prey."

Then, the hand stained with a lot of blood left his head.

Dorrigare was still screaming uncontrollably, he covered his throat and retreated in a hurry.

But he only saw the back of a dark bird feather cloak.

Those shining bird feathers seemed to be splashed with blood.

If it were normal, Dorrigare would have criticized the harm to animals caused by such behavior when he saw the cloak made of bird feathers.

But now, looking at the elves lying on the ground in a short time at the other end of the bridge, he could only remain silent.

The death of those elves was not exaggerated, at least much more decent than Dorrigare had imagined before he actually saw it.

The only abnormal thing was the large amount of blood accumulated under these normal corpses.

The wizard didn't know whether the two strange daggers were some kind of magic props, and whether this person who had no armor and only a seemingly thick coat and cloak was a secret collaborator of Aretuza.

But he knew that in such a short time, she was too efficient in killing people who made all the squirrel tails hanging on the elves' hats immersed in blood.

No, that can hardly be called "killing". With such efficiency, it should be called "cleaning"!

Dorigare didn't dare to look back when he ran away just now, but he knew that even if he looked back, with his vision and experience, he probably wouldn't see any trace of the Squirrel Party.

Elves are more agile than humans, and the Squirrel Party who can fight guerrilla warfare with the army are even better at hiding and raiding.

Once they go to the garden or the edge of the grass, people like Dorigare have no idea where the enemy is.

But the person in the bird feather cloak in front of him seemed to have an almost natural understanding of where the Squirrel Party could hide and where the raid would start.

The elves who were hiding in the corner and wanted to attack by surprise were often blocked in the corner and killed before they jumped out to attack actively.

Experience, technology. Even an outsider like Dorrigare could clearly feel that the Scoia’tael were like a group of apprentices in front of this person, so immature that he could see through them at a glance.

A series of sharp blades breaking through the air.

But there was no metal collision.

No sparks, no collisions.

A Scoia’tael who drew out his weapon and chopped against the Crow Hunter was now waving the elven long sword in his hand violently and fiercely.

But the expression on his face was like seeing a ghost.

The person in front of him with black bird feathers was like a demon!

She just dodged and dealt with all her attacks!

The blade was like cutting a piece of black smoke!

Then, there were two "hissing" sounds!

This was the only sound during their fight except for the empty swinging of weapons.

The two [Blades of Mercy] in Irene's hand, the quick dodging skills that the Yharnam Hunter was accustomed to, allowed her to dodge and escape the elf's blades calmly and successfully.

Then two hands approached from both sides at the same time, and in an instant, the skin and flesh under the elf's armpits were torn and a large amount of blood burst out.

The tendons that exerted force were also accurately cut off, and the long sword in his hand immediately fell out of his hand due to inertia.

And the next moment, the two short swords on the left and right "clicked" and bit into one amid the sparks of the mechanism!

The transformation slash of [Blade of Mercy] was performed at the elf's neck.

The biting blades directly "cut" the elf's neck off!

It fell to the ground with a gurgle, and the squirrel tail was immersed in the blood that could already submerge the soles of the shoes.

"Did we miss anything?"

The sound of the soles of the shoes stepping on the pool of blood sounded gently, as if this scene was enough to make any normal person's heart and liver break, but for the owner of the footsteps, it was just a daily routine that was not worth paying attention to.

Henrik, who was wearing a khaki windbreaker, brushed off a layer of blood on the outside of the leather windbreaker with his gloves while walking across the bridge and talking.

He was holding the meat saw that was still dripping blood, minced meat, and hair. The minced meat hit the ground with a light sound, "crackling".

But at this moment, Dorrigare, who had already sat on the ground, felt that the sound was deafening!

Henrik's eyes, which were caught in the gap between the brim of the tricorn hat and the mask, glanced at the wizard's ears that had just been pulled apart by his hair.

Then he walked over without stopping.

The tone of the conversation between the Yharnam hunters was still as light as a dream.

It seemed like this sudden, cruel and bloody night was just a deep dream.