I will be crowned king

At 21:31, forty minutes had passed since the start of the feint attack.

In the dark environment, Anson, who was holding Lisa's little hand, followed Louis and walked towards the deserted street. The fearful Karin Jacques stayed close to the center of the crowd, with "brave" written all over him from head to toe. .

The dull sound of shelling and explosions continued to come from the gate of the Royal Court, which was a sea of ​​fire. The roar that passed through half of the city was accompanied by the slightly shaking ground underfoot, making the already deserted and dim streets look even more dead.

"The location where we are now is called the 'West Wing Corridor', which is a relatively remote area of ​​the Royal Court of Yser." The young knight walking in front introduced the crowd while leading the way:

"The city of the Ysel elves has... its own characteristics, just like their army. It is not entirely divided according to wealth or position, but also according to blood source."

"Generally speaking, the entire royal court starts with the royal palace, which symbolizes the status of the Moses Field family. From east to west, the closer to the west gate of the street, the thinner the bloodline of the elves, the less valued it is; conversely, the thicker the bloodline, the less status. The more noble.”

"Therefore, in areas like the West Wing Corridor, which are close to the city gate, the people living there are usually the 'residual blood' half-elves and humans with the lowest bloodline; there are almost no guards responsible for patrolling here, and there is almost no infrastructure. , is not even considered part of the royal court by many elves.”

It's almost like the outer city of Clovis... Anson thought in his heart.

"According to what you said, we would have to pass through half of the city to go to the Royal Court?" the black-robed priest said desperately.

His intestines are almost turning green now - if he had known this would be the result, he might as well have been drinking coffee in the dungeon of Clovis Cathedral!

"Yes..." Louis stopped, looked back and smiled at Karin Jacques:

"No."

Anson next to him sighed.

If it were the old Louis, he would never make such a joke, he would only give serious explanations, and his face would turn red with excitement when being refuted; now...

"Near the promenade area on the west wing, there is an underground passage that leads directly to the palace." Louis replied: "From there, we can go directly through the entire Yser Court, avoid the guards outside, and enter the palace directly from the inside. .”

"This passage is a Moses Field family secret known only to members of the royal family."

This answer made the panicked Karin Jacques calm down a little, but at the same time it created new questions:

"So...how did you know?"

Before he finished speaking, the young knight's figure trembled, his suddenly flushed cheeks immediately turned to face the front, and his pace suddenly accelerated a lot.

Anson sighed again, but this time his expression was much more relieved.

Sure enough, honest people will never change...

Just as the group of people continued to move forward, the girl holding Borni suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong, Lisa?"

Anson, who was almost dragged down, squatted down, pressed the girl's little head and asked.

"It's nothing." Lisa shook her head desperately, her big eyes like clear gems in the midnight: "It's just..."

"that is……"

"It just feels like it's so quiet around here." Lisa said loudly, "It's so quiet that there's nothing."

"Of course it's quiet."

Looking at the innocent Lisa, even though he knew that Anson could not bring a helpless little girl, Karin Jacques, who was trembling just now, could not help but show a "loving" smile: "Because we are at war, everyone has been hiding early..."

"you shut up!"

Anson, whose pupils suddenly shrank, shouted sharply.

The black-robed priest immediately covered his mouth obediently, curled up and hid aside.

Louis, who also suddenly realized something, held the handle of the knife at his waist and looked around alertly.

"When there is a war, the city is usually in chaos, right?" Lisa's innocent words echoed in the middle of the empty street:

"There are fires everywhere, there is smoke, it's a mess, bad guys are bullying people and robbing things, the houses are destroyed, there's blood everywhere on the ground, and there's a really bad smell..."

"But here, there is nothing here!" Lisa shouted.

The girl did not raise her voice deliberately, but in the dead silence, it seemed a bit harsh; in the dead silence, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of shelling at the main entrance of the royal court in the distance.

In the pitch darkness, the expressions of the three people gradually became serious, and some strange emotions gradually spread in their hearts.

The black-robed priest even paralyzed on the ground in an exaggerated manner, with a look of distraught, as if a group of invisible "beings" were whispering in his ears, and their cold and biting claws climbed up his neck bit by bit along the spine. Squeezing his throat tightly.

Yes, there is nothing here.

There were no riots or broken buildings after the riots, no traces of battles, no bones everywhere left by the slaughter of ordinary believers, no streets filled with rivers of blood... nothing.

Is this reasonable for a large city that had just experienced riots and civil war?

This is unreasonable!

Anson suddenly looked up at Louis: "How far is it from the underground passage?!"

"Probably two more streets to cross."

The young knight suppressed his cheeks that were still a little hot and said with a serious expression: "That place is very secret. Just in case, Judge Chanis and I made an appointment with him to guard the area and then let me take you there." .”

Judge Chanis... Anson, who frowned slightly, pictured in his mind a taciturn, slightly stout, middle-aged man; wearing a somewhat dirty Judge's uniform, with sparse broken hair under the brim of his hat and a face that looked like he had stayed up late all year long, holding on to his mouth. He was smoking an old pipe made of briar wood and carrying a rectangular "shoulder bag" behind his back.

"Is it okay for him to be alone?"

It's not that he doubted the Inquisitor's strength, but simply because of his appearance, it was difficult for Anson to believe that he was a master who was good at sneaking and knew how to conceal his whereabouts.

"Of course there is no problem." Louis seemed quite confident in him:

"I have talked with Mr. Chanis. He is a gifted person with the blood power of the 'Wind Knight'. Although this type of gifted person has various abilities, he is basically good at hiding his whereabouts due to the characteristics of the ability. .”

"Almost two years ago, when I was still in Xiaolong City, I met a young man from the Phoenix family. The 'Wind Knight' is his ancestor; his bloodline power is related to 'invisibility', even if Even if he stands in front of you and speaks loudly, you will not notice his presence at all..."

"Boom——!!!"

Before he could finish speaking, the four people who had not figured out what was happening suddenly looked up and saw thick smoke rising from the street not far away, mixed with countless gravel and ashes, rising into the sky.

Staring blankly at the flying sand all over the sky, the four of them looked at each other.

"Uh... what..." The frightened black-robed priest raised his right hand tremblingly and pointed in the direction of the smoke: "Is the underground passage you mentioned..."

"Right over there." The young knight was equally stunned.

Anson: "..."

……………………

"Boom——!!!"

There was another roar under the dead starry sky, and white smoke mixed with sand, dust and water vapor enveloped the entire street, "flowing" around like a liquid.

The pale-faced Yser elf stood in the center of the smoke. There were several very obvious penetrating wounds on his left cheek, chest and waist and abdomen. Tender granules grew out from under the bleeding wounds, stretching on one side. On one side, yellow-brown pus was spitting out, turning into rotten sarcoma to repair the wound.

Reflected in his pupils that were still bleeding were a staggering, twisted black figure, wrapped in a shabby black three-cornered hat and a high-collar windbreaker, holding an old-style briar pipe in his mouth, and carrying a spitting gun on his shoulder. A scythe of white smoke and scattered smoke surrounded him.

No, that's not just ordinary "smoke and dust", that's...

"Ahem...you run very fast."

The dull voice of smoke sounded in the smoke, mixed with the sound of heavy coughing, which made the Yser Elf look a little paler: "In my impression, I have never seen a blood mage running so fast."

"But...that's right."

"Iser elves and humans are not originally the same species...ahem...then again, to what extent can those who become spellcasters, especially blood mages, be considered the 'original species'?"

"This is really a...ahem...a headache...ahem..."

Following Chanis's staggering steps, the bloodless Yser Elf clenched his teeth. The wounds on his body had been filled with sarcoma, and the overflowing plasma had been replaced by pus.

"I don't know much about these academic issues. When I was young, I memorized the textbooks to pass the exam, and I have almost forgotten them."

Chanis stopped and puffed out a burst of smoke from the pipe at the corner of his mouth: "Now I am better at using 'field experiments' to find answers."

Before he finished speaking, the scythe on his shoulder was smashed to the ground by Chanis, and his staggering steps turned into a black afterimage, rushing towards the elf.

The merciless scythe screamed like a death knell, pulling out a string of sparks on the ground.

"clang!"

Just at the moment when it was about to be split into two, the frightened elf's hands stretched out two thick bone spurs from under the skin, holding the sickle blade forcefully.

Almost at the same time, sounds like countless "bubbles" bursting suddenly came from the smoke. Thick plasma instantly overflowed the ground beneath the two of them. Tentacles covered with fleshy sprouts stretched out from it, attacking the inquisitor from all directions. .

"snort."

Under the pitch-black three-cornered hat, the corner of the mouth holding a pipe was raised in disdain; the scythe in his hand seemed to suddenly come to life, and there was a harsh mechanical friction sound coming from the fixed part of the scythe blade.

White smoke spurted out.

"boom--!!!!"

The eardrum-shattering explosion sounded again, and countless tentacles shrouded in white steam instantly fell apart, and the air was filled with bursts of delicious meat fragrance.

The bone spurs, which were as hard as steel, were shattered into pieces, and the scythe blade was soaked with plasma mixed with minced meat and visceral fragments. The murderous intent of crushing everything was displayed against the background of the smoke.

The disemboweled Iser elf collapsed in a pool of his own blood, staring at the ferocious black figure through the faint smoke. Under the brim of the hat that could not see his eyes, there was only the grinning man with a pipe in his mouth, and the bloody scythe in his hand was still there. It continued to spit out the remaining white smoke and let out a harsh growl.

No, that's not smoke at all, any bullshit "smoke"! That, that is, that is...

"Steam?!"

The trembling elf shouted hysterically: "You...your ability is steam?!"

"Oh, you actually know!"

Chanis smiled happily, but in the eyes of the elves, his smile was no different from the devil's smile: "Very good, it seems that you are not only the fastest blood mage I have ever seen, but also the most knowledgeable one."

"Spellcasters who understand science...well, after forty-seven years of the Saints calendar, your species is really rare."

The judge praised without hesitation.

It's a pity that the Yisel Elf didn't hear his praise at all. When he realized that he was still alive, he got up instantly, turned around and ran away with his body that was open and still spurting blood.

Almost at the same time, countless amounts of plasma suddenly poured out from the corners of the originally empty street, like a flood that had been opened, attacking the Inquisitor from all directions.

Countless tentacles, broken corpses, skeletons, severed limbs... crawled out of the plasma continuously, gathered together at an alarming speed, and along with the stench and surging plasma, they rushed towards the black man who was stumbling as he walked. figure.

The inquisitor stood there with a "surprised" look on his face, not at all embarrassed that he had fallen into the enemy's trap.

He was somewhat hunched over and raised the scythe with one hand. The weapon that seemed to be alive trembled violently in his hand and let out a low roar like a man-eating ferocious beast.

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

The Ysel Elf turned around and screamed hysterically, trying his best to cover up the fear in his heart with his voice. He used his hands and feet to run forward desperately, as if this could prevent death from coming.

Unlike humans, the power of elves comes from blood. The purer the blood and the higher the level, the more likely it is to awaken and possess powerful power; the path to awakening is not ritual, but some kind of strong emotion.

As a blood magic caster who relies on "fear" to awaken, the Ysel elf felt the paradox of this power for the first time.

That is, the more fearful he is, the stronger his power will be; but the stronger the power, the more it proves how frightened his enemy is, to the point where he is so frightened that he cannot even think of resisting.

He ran desperately, his scarlet pupils keenly aware of the appearance of four more figures at the end of the street.

The other party was startled at first, and then they all pulled out their weapons and pointed the dark muzzles at themselves.

Um?

The moment he pulled the trigger, Anson was suddenly stunned - he didn't know if he had seen it wrong, but he actually saw an expression of relief on the other person's face.

But the next second, he knew that he was not wrong.

In the dazzling gunfire, the running Yser Elf fell to the ground; replaced by a "steam train" that spit out white smoke and made a harsh whistle, tearing apart layers of flesh and blood...

Attack them!