Demon Hunter and His Hut

There is not much space in the room, there is no furniture other than wooden beds and chairs, and no furnishings or personal items can be seen.

Clean and tidy.

Ordinary people can't see any clues.

"Strange, the other rooms in the castle are in ruins. Why is this only kept clean and tidy, as if it has always been inhabited."

Ge Wei said suspiciously, and she turned around abruptly as she spoke.

"Door!"

Roger followed the sound and saw that just where they had just entered, the broken wooden door had been reassembled, and it seemed that there was no difference from before.

Except for the color of the door.

Not the blood-like red, but just the normal log color.

"Squeak."

Roger stepped forward and opened the wooden door.

The warm sun shines on his face.

This is the last ray of the sun, which is not dazzling but can make people feel comfortable temperature.

In the distance is a flat lake, and the fiery red sunlight reflects the lake water like a magnificent ruby.

On a deck chair by the lake, an old figure was sitting quietly with a fishing rod in hand.

Before Roger could speak, the old man sitting in the chair lowered his voice, "Shh...don't talk."

"The fish has been bitten on the hook!"

He turned his head sideways, as if he could really hear the sound from underwater.

The fish opened its mouth and swallowed the bait. The soft fish lips were pierced by the sharp fish hook. The next second, the old man's wrist shook, the fishing rod was raised high, and a big fish was thrown into the air. When it fell, it was very precise. into the fish tank.

The other sleeve of the old man was empty. He put the fishing rod down, bent over to pick up the bucket lid, and covered the struggling fish.

Roger could see clearly that there were exactly three fish in the barrel.

He looked back at the wooden house behind him and seemed to understand something.

The old man turned around and looked at the three of Rogers.

"You had a chance."

There was a trace of regret in his eyes.

"What chance?" Henrik asked.

"A chance to live."

"That cute bird..." He glanced at Ge Wei, "Maybe it's all fate."

Roger's pupils shrank slightly, and it seemed that the old man in front of him might have noticed something when he was at Arthur's tomb.

He didn't make a move at the time, maybe because he was afraid of exposing himself, but after going around, everything returned to the original point, maybe it was really what he said.

"What should I call you?"    "Bedwell." The three of    caught their breath.

"The First and Last Knight."

Gewei bit her lip, "My brother inherited the name of Tristan, and it has only been a few days, and I have the honor to meet another inheritance knight."

"And he seems to be planning to kill us."

"What about the so-called chivalrous virtues?"

"Just because we discovered your secret?"

"You collect the secrets of ordinary people's souls by Arthur's grave?"

Ge Wei clenched her fists. What happened to Grace made it difficult for him to have any good feelings for the Knights of Heritage and the Knights of the Round Table.

"Your brother became a heritage knight?"

Bedwell sighed.

"That's something more desperate than death."

"Ha ha."

"The Knights of the Round Table of Glory."

Bedwell clenched the fishing rod in his hand, and when he raised his hand and dropped it, the fishing rod had turned into a cold sword.

"There is absolutely no need for you to fight with us."

Roger pursed his lips slightly. "Everything you did in the castle, although it looked terrible, didn't hurt too many people's lives. Even if we said it, it wouldn't have any effect on you."

Bedwell shook his head stubbornly.

"You don't understand, you don't understand what a heritage knight stands for, and you don't understand what role I play here."

"There's no such thing as inheritance, right?"

Gewei shouted loudly, "The so-called successor is just a container for the soul of the original knight!"

Bedwell smiled, "It's not a secret among high-level supernatural beings, but it has nothing to do with whether I should kill you."

"Does an elephant need a reason to trample an ant to death?"

"You can only blame your bad luck..."

Before he finished speaking, an ice arrow shot from a distance.

Bedwell waved his hand gently, and the long sword in his hand smashed Henrik's sneak attack.

"A second-order blood secret witch, a second-order blood hunter."

"And you..."

His eyes fell on Roger.

"Strange little guy, you may have some cards, but unfortunately, in the face of absolute strength, everything is meaningless."

Bedwell stepped out, and the weapon in his hand ignited a fiery flame.

"Although I am old, I can kill you..."

"One sword is enough!"

"Shh!"

The flames blocked the entire space, and in an instant, the afterglow of the sunset in the distance was covered by the brilliance of this sword!

But in this flame, a figure stepped out.

Roger's body changed into a black tight-fitting battle suit at some point. He ignored the burning flames around him, and the cursed sword was placed in the path of Bedwell's attack.

"You may be an elephant."

Roger sneered.

"But we're not ants that are trampled on?!"

"Your power?"

There was a hint of surprise on Bedwell's face. He looked away, and the young man in front of him was not a second-order pretending to be a ghost.

But the third order!

Bedwell is obviously a swordsman master who is good at close combat. Although Roger's comprehensive strength has reached the third rank, his physical fitness has become a temporary shortcoming.

It's fine when fighting monsters, but against a guy like Bedwell with great physique, terrifying energy and superb swordsmanship.

A little defect in physical fitness will be infinitely magnified and become an irreparable loophole.

The battle suit transformed from the cape suddenly tightened, and the dark energy poured into the cursed sword. Roger activated an ability that came with the cursed sword without hesitation.

[Blood Feast]: When the ghosts shrouded in the sword are saturated and the power of the curse is activated, the dark energy will stimulate the user's body, causing it to explode with power far beyond its normal state.

While increasing the attack power, it can quickly recover the injuries on the bearer, but this process will speed up the erosion of the bearer's body and mind by dark energy.

Roger shouted, and his physical fitness almost doubled under the erosion of dark energy!

The edges of his cheeks were covered with blood like cobwebs, his pupils almost became pitch black, and the blood vessels around his eyes were about to split, making him look like a ghost crawling out of the abyss.

"This weapon?" Bedwell was shocked.

The killing intent in Roger's chest burst out like a substance, and the power in his body exploded, pressing it violently.

"In the castle, you played all of us with applause, and let us put on a show according to the script you wrote."

Driven by the violent force, Bedwell's body retreated, and Roger was imposing like a rainbow.

"Now I've prepared my story for you too."

After a short charge, Roger roared.

【Qian Jun】

boom!

Bedwell seemed to be hit by a cannonball, and the whole person flew more than ten meters away, and smashed into the lake in the distance with a loud bang.  The water was rippling, and the lake water, which was plated with a layer of red, spread like blood.   Roger exhaled.   Black smoke filled his nose and mouth.  "The process of the story is not important."  "What matters is the ending."  "I have prepared 15 ways to die..."  "Please choose one!"