I will be crowned king

The moment the gun flames lit up, Bronn's pupils shrank suddenly and he couldn't even see clearly what happened.

In the last short moment, Anson Bach's frightened expression was reflected in his ice-blue pupils, and he stood in front of him desperately, seeming to say something loudly to him.

But Bloen didn't hear it.

When he saw clearly that the figure walking out of the shadows and holding an ax gun in one hand was Lawrence Bernat, the highest-ranking judge of the Truth-Seeking Order; when he finally distinguished from Anson's opening and closing lips, he said When he said "get down"; when he finally remembered that he still held a pistol in his right hand and it was loaded with bullets...

It's too late.

The flaming lead bullets shot out, launching a spiral barrage at the muzzle of the ax gun; like the claws of a ferocious beast, dark red blood mist exploded on Anson's chest; the body struck by the lead bullets moved backwards Turning on his back, bloody bullet holes were all over his body.

"Plop!"

Anson, who only had time to shout out one word, knelt on his knees and fell into a pool of blood.

The broken body twitched slightly, and thick blood continued to leak out from underneath it.

The eyes that were opened angrily were losing their luster little by little.

Anson Bach, dead.

How could this happen...

Bronn's mind went blank and he couldn't believe the scene in front of him.

At the moment when Serra Virgil was silenced with one shot, he was almost certain that Anson Bach had betrayed Professor Mace Honnard, and he falsely believed that the snake was to lure the professor into a trap set by the church and the Tribunal.

But now... could it be that I guessed wrong?

Did I focus too much on Anson Bach, and ended up ignoring the inquisitor hiding in the dark, and ended up letting the other person touch my back? !

In a daze, Lawrence, dressed in a black trench coat, walked out of the shadows. His cold gaze locked onto Brohn's figure through the brim of his tricorn hat. The blood-stained ax gun with its red-hot muzzle, followed by the spray of gunpowder smoke. Turning in his hands.

The next second, the ax gun turned into an afterimage of death.

"clang--!!!!"

The fierce wind that tore the air passed by Bronn's side, and there were a few irregular scars on his pale cheek; with a loud reverberating sound, the whirling ax gun hit the wall behind him.

At the critical moment, Bloen finally cast a spell on Lawrence through his sight, using illusions to affect his judgment of distance and location.

"Bang! Bang! Bang..."

Lawrence, who had missed the blow, decisively pulled out the "dagger". The loud noise of the gunfire exploded into terrifying craters one after another on the wall, but it was still unable to hit Bloen; the slender figure stood on the spot, the fatal lead bullet But you can always pass it by.

Despite this, Brohn did not feel the joy of surviving the disaster at all, or the self-confidence of knowing the pearls of wisdom; on the contrary, Brohn, whose hair stood on end, truly felt the fear of death, which made him quickly regain his composure from the shock.

"Are you afraid?"

Lawrence, who was expressionless, attacked, and pulled out a ferocious and serrated saber from his waist. The blade was covered with traces of rust and blood:

"You shall fear, stooge of the Lord of Dark Arts;"

"The soil you are standing on is the birthplace of the Church of Order, the Qiuzhen Sect; the top of your head is the church of the Ring of Order; the person in front of you is the executioner who hunts down the disrespectful ones for God;"

"Bloan Eade, you should be afraid!"

The ferocious saber was like a hyena baring its fangs, slashing at Bloun's figure with a bloodthirsty aura.

"puff!"

Under the blade, blood spurts out.

Bronn's eyes widened in disbelief as he was slashed in half. His ice-blue pupils reflected the image of plasma flying and the saber piercing his chest.

The next second, the body that was torn into pieces suddenly dimmed and disappeared into the air like an afterimage.

phantom? !

The expressionless Lawrence stepped forward over Anson Bach's body and swung the saber behind him fiercely.

"clang!"

The notes of the collision of sharp blades exploded in his ears, and the splashing sparks covered the flash of shock in the corner of Lawrence's eyes.

What blocked the saber was a slender silver bayonet. The bayonet was like some kind of living "creature". The slender sword kept squirming and twisting, as if chewing and biting on the saber.

Lawrence, who quickly regained his composure, immediately tightened his grip on the hilt of the knife, and the blade scraped against the stabbing blade with a harsh, demonic whine, and continued to attack Bloun.

The young bachelor was forced back several steps by this oppressive slash. Lawrence, who seized this gap, continued to swing his saber while extending his right hand towards the ax gun nailed to the wall.

The moment he saw the strange stabbing sword, the judge knew that he had fallen into the opponent's illusion. Even that moment of shock had given the enemy insight into his memory, and all his information had been exposed in front of Bronn.

Because spellcasters who are proficient in black magic are such terrifying existences.

Pry into people's hearts, seduce the deepest fears, create strange illusions, recite terrifying and filthy words, and destroy all beliefs... This is the power of the black mage.

In the ancient dark ages, these "seemingly harmless" black mages were the most feared enemies in the eyes of the Church of Order; although curse mages and blood mages had powerful powers, black mages could make a judge with firm beliefs betray the Order. ring.

but……

"But the noble Laurence Bernat was not afraid of this."

Blown, who had regained his indifference, said so.

"Lawrence Bernat, an ordinary talented person who inherited the bloodline of the 'Knight of the Wild Hunt', somehow became the oldest inquisitor of the Truth-seeking Order; almost all inquisitors were not promoted to the throne when they were forty years old. In the Holy City, those who cannot withstand the pressure, aging and illness will retire, or die early.”

"you are the only exception."

The viper-like stabbing sword and the ferocious saber collided continuously, and the explosive sparks turned into splattering pus in Lawrence's eyes. The skin that was touched quickly corroded, festered, and suppurated.

"Everyone owes it to the 'Power of Blood' - the extremely powerful 'Wild Hunt Knight' bloodline gives you extremely strong physical strength and pain tolerance, making you a judge born from an ordinary person. , sitting in the current position.”

"But you and I both know that's not the truth...right?"

Bloen's cold words were mixed with an echo like a whisper in a deep valley, echoing in Lawrence's ears.

"You have been enduring, unlimited endurance... The core of the bloodline of the 'Knight of the Wild Hunt' is to abandon reason and use madness and wanton indulgence to gain strength; but you have done the opposite and gained strength from reason and endurance. .”

"amazing!"

At the moment when the knife tip was entangled, the gas lights in the corridor and the secret room were extinguished one by one, and blurry and twisted figures appeared in the darkness one after another, attacking the inquisitor from all corners.

The spewing pus constantly corroded the face of the inquisitor. The cheeks on both sides under the three-cornered hat had been completely ulcerated, exposing the bones, flesh and teeth underneath; yellow-green pus kept pouring out of the nostrils. and outflow from the ear hole.

But Lawrence's eyes did not change at all. He raised the reloaded ax gun and pointed the still smoking muzzle at the slender figure wielding the rapier in the darkness.

"boom--!"

In the gushing fire, Bronn's head exploded instantly; the flesh and blood that "sizzled" under the burning lead bullets sprayed out around him.

The next second, the headless body disappeared without a trace again.

Everything is an illusion, an illusion created by Blown. All his senses have been controlled by Blown. He is trying...

"Trying to break you down mentally..."

Blown's cold voice sounded again, mocking and sarcastic.

At the same time as the words were spoken, countless ferocious figures were already attacking the inquisitor from all directions, like shapeless tentacles; their wrists, limbs, torso, neck... wrapped around him.

The tentacles were like substance constantly tightening, binding, and tearing at his body: the three-cornered hat was torn into pieces, his arms and top of his head were scratched with blood marks that were deeply visible to the bones, and all the bones in his body made sounds of being compressed and twisted. He screamed, dark red plasma wet his body, and his vision turned blood red.

The struggling Inquisitor drove his body like a mechanical puppet, and was stabbed into the eye socket by a black tentacle. His eyes, which were constantly overflowing with blood, locked onto Broun's figure again, and he desperately raised the ax gun that was already wrapped with black tentacles.

"boom--!"

Gunshots rang out, but it was not Broen who fell.

It was a little girl—wearing a colorful dress that was covered with patches and wine stains and made of tablecloth. Her blushing face had a smile that made people unable to help but feel happy at the sight of it. She held a handful of this in her arms. A rare flower in the season.

Lawrence knew her, and her father died in his own hands - Wissam, a gangster and union leader who was used by the Black Mage, was beaten with an ax gun by him in the "Clovis Truth" newspaper office on Old Wall Street Head shot.

The gun flames that illuminated the darkness tore the tentacles attached to them into pieces, and countless petals flew into the sky. The girl with an innocent and cute smile was instantly torn apart and fell into a pool of blood.

Lawrence's eyes suddenly opened wide, and ripples appeared in his originally calm heart at this moment.

Maybe it was just a little, or just for a moment, but it was enough for a black mage... The expressionless Bronn appeared in the darkness, his left hand stretched out from behind was raised flat in front of him, and he lightly pinched his fingers.

"Boom!"

The insignificant sound of friction turned into a loud noise comparable to the explosion of a twelve-pound grenade in Lawrence's ears; the body wrapped in shadow shook violently and leaned back convulsively.

"Boom!"

The fragile eardrum was penetrated again, and the blood vessels under the remaining skin on the ulcerated cheek bulged one by one. Dark red plasma mixed with pus spurted out from the nostrils and ear holes.

"Boom!"

The eyeballs that could not withstand the pressure were crushed together with the flesh, and the optic nerve protruded from the eye sockets along with the gushing pus. The corners of the tightly pursed mouth were forcefully opened by the tentacles, revealing a bitten tongue and a mouth full of minced meat.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah--!!!!"

A hoarse scream exploded from the throat that was constantly overflowing with blood.

Bronn walked forward slowly with his hands behind his back, his expression as cold as ever.

"That's right, heretics who betrayed the Original Circle, you are so fragile."

He looked at Lawrence who was wrapped in tentacles. Even though the opponent's eyes had been gouged out and crushed, Bronn still had the illusion that he was being stared at.

"The so-called 'bloodline power' will weaken and become ineffective if it does not meet the conditions for use. As long as you know what your abilities are, you can easily discover your weaknesses - I have to admit, when I first learned about this When the truth came out, I was very surprised.”

"When I was young, I also admired you 'gifted ones' and regarded you as omnipotent heroes who maintained world peace; until I was told that it would be impossible for me to be you in this life, because... there was no blood flowing in my body. The blood of noble knights.”

The wailing Lawrence was still struggling desperately, and blood continued to overflow from his body as he slowly raised his trembling right arm bit by bit.

The tip of the saber covered with tentacles was pressed against Bronn's throat.

"Of course, all this surprises me less than you, Laurence Bernat." Blown sarcastically said, even deliberately taking a half-step forward so that the tip of the knife could touch his neck:

"The most experienced judge, the executioner of those who disrespect the gods, Lawrence Bernat, who personally killed no less than three believers of the old gods... actually showed his flaws because of a little girl."

"You even know very well that it can't be her, and she can never appear here. This must be an illusion created by me, but you were still fooled... Why?"

"Experience and aging have made you weak?"

Broen chuckled, slowly raised the stabbing sword hidden behind him, pointed the tip of the sword at Lawrence's throat, and then stabbed it out.

"puff!"

It was the sound of a sharp blade penetrating flesh.

But the tip of the rapier still stopped in Broun's hand, and the smile gradually disappeared from his face.

Ice blue eyes slowly lowered, and a silver-white dagger stabbed out from Bronn's neck.

This, this is...how...how is this possible...

I, I clearly saw with my own eyes... saw him with my own eyes...

The stunned Bronn coughed and looked back slowly with blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. A familiar figure was standing behind him.

Anson Bach, who was breathing heavily, was holding the hilt of his silver-white dagger tightly, and the blood stains on his coat full of bullet holes condensed into a dark red.

Shock and anger gathered in Bloen's pupils at the same time.

"Anson Bach...you...really...betrayed us!"

Bronn, whose throat was penetrated, shouted these words through his torn trachea.

"My dear Brone, you are speaking out of bounds."

Anson stared at those ice-blue eyes, with the corners of his mouth raised under his slightly cold gaze: "From the moment we met, between you and me, or me and you, between the two of us..."

"Have you ever had even a glimmer of trust?"

"If not, don't say such hurtful words and just die."

After the words fell, Ansen's eyes suddenly turned cold and he raised his sword, and blood spurted out along with the falling head.