The nearby generals’ personal guard were shocked; the one who was drawing the bow did so reluctantly, afraid to aim directly at critical points, missing slightly instead.
Whistling!
The second sharp arrow came.
Without drawing the Oathkeeper, Duncan, in the darkness, snatched it, palm swiftly grasping the arrow as if it were lightning-fast.
The plaza was in an uproar.
"Again."
"You all shoot," Duncan was eager to test himself further.
The bowstrings trembled.
Five sharp arrows whistled through the air. Duncan’s Oathkeeper finally left its sheath. Clang, a glimmer of cold light flashed, all five arrows were deflected and cut down.
Was this even human?
Duncan, without breaking a sweat, did several dozen deep squats with a half-ton stone pillar. Only when he saw the distant figure of the Crow Queen, Triss, did he casually toss it aside and walk in her direction. Judging from the hurried look of the Crow Queen, Triss, she must have sensed some changes in the world.
Sharon Battlefield.
In the Gaul region, torrential rains persisted recently. Beneath the pouring rain, a tall figure was hiding under a large tree to avoid the rain, completely drenched and looking quite bedraggled.
Demon Hunter George.
Ever since he ceased to participate in the internal conflicts of the Church, he traveled all over Europe, slaying various supernatural creatures.
Life is alright, just a bit financially tight.
The Roman Church is very wealthy, extremely wealthy, but George didn’t want to use their money. He relied on slaying monsters and some additional income to get by, while also considering the funding needed to establish the Demon Hunter Brotherhood. Thus, his days were often quite tight.
When he first met Duncan, he saved on inn expenses by directly making do for the night in a stable.
Hmm?
What is that smell?
While meditating with his eyes closed under the torrential rain, Demon Hunter George suddenly opened his eyes. His human eyes instantly turned into vertical dragon pupils, piercing the darkness to see some commotion in the distance.
Too many people died in the Battle of Sharon.
Recently, the Gaul region has been unsettled, with Ghouls and other monsters appearing from time to time, and even the wrongful dead specters and spirits.
During the day, it’s basically fine.
But at night, getting close to the Sharon Battlefield might bring encounters with unclean things.
No one in this era runs into the wilderness in the middle of the night.
A wet and rotting stench wafted through.
Demon Hunter George emerged swiftly, quickly approaching a river. Under the torrential rain, a streak of blood appeared in the middle of the river, and when he looked up, he saw human heads emerging from the waves on the water’s surface.
"Water Ghosts?!"
"How come there are several Water Ghosts appearing at once?"
The Demon Hunter slowly unsheathed the longsword behind him, jumping directly into the river. His formidable physique was unafraid of the swift current, fighting in these Water Ghosts’ natural environment. In just ten minutes, he decapitated them and climbed onto a patch of marshy ground.
"I seem to have gotten stronger?"
Demon Hunter George looked at his hands, a puzzled expression on his face.
In the past, it took considerable effort to deal with Water Ghosts, but today he slaughtered them as easily as a lamb.
Ooooooh!
A faint mournful wail arose.
In the torrential rain, a mist rose faintly, forming into a fog. The sound of clattering armor and hooves erupted. Suddenly, several Huns’ cavalry figures emerged from the gray fog.
But they were not living beings; rather, they appeared as half-ghostly, half-real phantoms.
"What on earth is happening?"
"Why are the spirits repeatedly resurrecting on the Sharon Battlefield?"
Demon Hunter George’s expression gradually turned serious. Unlike the Water Ghosts, these fallen Hun elites had greater strength. He deflected the arrows with his sword, and as the arrows fell to the ground, they turned into black smoke and vanished.
He rapidly advanced, accompanied by a flash of cold light.
Rumble!
A bolt of lightning crossed the sky, and several Hun riders fell one after another. Amidst the cracking sparks, the rain intensified, drenching the Demon Hunter. Behind him, only beheaded evil spirits remained, dispersing into mist.
The surroundings seemed to alter as if trapped in a maze, with rain and mist overlapping, blurring directions.
Clop, clop, clop.
A heavy sound of hoofbeats resonated.
In the core area of the Sharon Battlefield, where tens of thousands had died, a headless figure on a black skeletal warhorse, clad in heavy armor and covered in arrows, appeared.
— Sangis (Alan, the Exiled Monarch) (Lost Celestial Destiny)!
Demon Hunter George’s expression turned deeply serious. He slowly grasped his longsword with both hands, assuming a defensive stance, and focused on the abrupt figure appearing in the rain.
So strong!
This was no ordinary spirit.
The warhorse stampeded forth.
The headless Sangis alone seemed like an army charging, with the shadows of Alan’s elite horsemen appearing behind him.
Clang!
Sparks flew.
A bolt of lightning sliced through the sky.
A wound appeared on Demon Hunter George’s left shoulder, blood mingling with rain as it flowed. The warhorse beneath the headless King mourned as Sangis fell, rose instantly, and drew the longsword at his waist.
Too strong!
Could this truly be a spirit of this era?
Demon Hunter George had slain countless supernatural creatures, but this was the first time encountering such a powerful spirit, perhaps even stronger than the monster was in life.
No, it won’t work.
The weather is against me!
The heavy rain severely impaired his vision, while the enemy seemed unaffected.
After some contemplation, Demon Hunter George suddenly turned and fled, for he saw Sangis mount an undead horse emerging from the black mist again.
Plunge.
This Demon Hunter, known for decades, fled for the first time when facing a monster, diving headlong into the river’s turbulent current.
The warhorse neighed.
Amidst a reluctant roar, Sangis’ headless figure slowly vanished.
.........