High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1704: Chapter 448: The Quickness of Cooking

When the deans of the four academies face off in the air against the captains of the four sea demon ships.

Keiform Flight Land, amidst the Green Sea.

Zheng Qing had just shattered an iron-gray city wall made of willow wood. The splintered wood chips and broken branches scattered like snowflakes. As the young wizard slapped an ’amulet’ onto his chest, he activated the Armor Horse Charm hanging from his leg, and his entire being instantly transformed into a stream of light, escaping deeper into the ’Big Snow’.

But this stream of light was halted just a dozen meters away. Because over twenty demons lay in wait behind that wooden wall, awaiting the wizard’s approach. The chilling aura and dense shadows pressed forward like a mountain, almost suffocating.

The amulet instantly blossomed into a striking golden shield.

Click-click.

Raise the gun, load, aim, all in one fluid motion.

The crisp sound of alchemical components colliding in the charm gun was particularly clear in the oppressive atmosphere. The clear light mingling as the bullet was half-sparked shimmered through the barrel, gathering at the muzzle like a giant dragon poised to unleash its breath, drawing the crimson gazes from across the way.

Zheng Qing had reason to believe that this shot could definitely blast apart the largest withered Treeman or Eyeless Tyrant opposite him. Precisely for that reason, he did not immediately fire.

Because the magazine held only one bullet, while over twenty demons stood across from him. What he held was merely a Remington, not a Gatling gun.

When the charm bullet was poised but not fired, its aura inspired fear and trepidation in those demons, but if that threat vanished, they’d swarm forward like hungry wolves, tearing him to pieces—even as he leapt off the rampart fully prepared for such an eventuality, it did not mean he’d easily accept the arrival of death.

For a moment, a wave of regret surged in the young wizard’s heart. If the charm gun’s magazine contained a bullet wrapped with a blood talisman, perhaps it could easily blast these twenty registered wizard-level demons to oblivion.

But he quickly shook off that hesitation, looking firmly ahead.

Meanwhile, the demons opposite him ceased their silence.

”Fog Arthur, Captain of the Fifth Squadron of the Mist Ship.”

”Young wizard, state your name.”

”I shall bestow upon you eternal peace, with the honor of a Death Knight.”

The Black Knight astride a towering nightmare emerged first, pulling down his helmet visor, lifting the longsword in his hand, its buzzing sound making Zheng Qing’s whole body numb with goosebumps.

Of course, it might also have been the rather peculiar battle declaration by the Death Knight that caused the young cost student to be somewhat allergic.

Zheng Qing rolled his eyes inwardly—even in the hunting ground, it’s not customary for opponents to announce names, much less on a battlefield—he very much suspected the long undead existence had completely solidified this knight’s consciousness, making it forget the difference between classic knights and Death Knights.

”Make way!”

The young wizard replied simply, simultaneously drawing the silver-white Colt Python from his Grey Cloth Bag, demonstratively spinning the magazine to make his words more persuasive.

Unfortunately, in this battlefield interwoven with death and chaos, threats were significantly less effective on the demons.

”Mist!”

The Death Knight tugged at the reins, the nightmare beneath him whinnying, eyes blazing with terrifying red light. At the same time, he raised the longsword in his hand, drawing several circles in mid-air, shouting, ”Arthur!!”

Zheng Qing felt he was at odds with anyone named ’Arthur’.

Last year, upon entering school, he fought someone by that name, and now in a different world, he found himself fighting against this name again.

The scattered wood chips and broken branches had mostly settled.

The brief negotiation had already collapsed.

The young man took a deep breath, his gaze tightly fixed on the nearest charging Death Knight and the hellhound, saliva splattering, malice evident in its eyes, preparing to blast these two guys and then retreat immediately.

But before he could pull the trigger, he felt like his head had been hit with a heavy hammer, his vision went dark, his mind blank, the buzzing noise in his ears rendering him incapable of resistance.

It was the psychic attack of the Eyeless Tyrant!

The aura of the forbidden spell could disrupt the innate ability of the Eyeless Tyrant, allowing the young wizard to maintain limited thinking ability, but could not compensate for physical shortcomings.

Compared to the forbidden curse, Zheng Qing’s body was too fragile to withstand the full force of forbidden spell power; likewise, compared to the over twenty demons, the warlock was too young, leaving him passive with his singular method when facing foes far beyond his capabilities.

Thoughts spun wildly between powerlessness and loss of control.

Zheng Qing doubted that when his consciousness reconnected with his physical body, he’d see the remains of being quartered, no, dismembered into eight, even eighteen pieces.

His previous confident plan, to self-destruct and take a few demons with him, turned into a joke with the disconnection of his flesh and thoughts. His thoughts could only anxiously hover above the heart lake, awaiting the earlier restoration of his ability to act.

Fortunately, the mass of forbidden spell aura floating above the heart lake was still steadily rotating, the tube extracting aura from the mass still sending out gurgling withdrawal sounds.

This was barely good news.

The warlock’s thoughts turned over this idea, at least the situation hadn’t completely collapsed.

When the white light dot representing reality descended again above the heart lake, the long-awaiting young wizard hesitated not and thrust his thoughts into that little white dot.

Consciousness returned to reality.

Intense pain surged almost simultaneously, Zheng Qing felt each breath carried the taste of rust, unsure if his ribs were broken, with each breath came a feeling of being torn apart. Every bone, every muscle in his body screamed, causing him to wonder if the demons were executing him after all.

Quickly, he dismissed this thought.

Because one of his arms, a few fingers could still move freely, and there was no sound in his ears—of course, most importantly, within his sensory range, there was not a trace of demon aura.

He forced his eyelids up, two suns hung in the white sky, one gold, one red, piercingly painful to his eyes. His vision held no lush willow branches, nor those sinister demons.

This led him to further dismiss his previous conjecture.

Cough cough.

The young man coughed intensely yet cautiously, his throat laden with salty and fishy taste, wishing to flip over but was promptly ’informed’ by his body that all muscles and bones had gone on strike.

He struggled to lift his arm, attempting to shield the blinding sunlight, but the powerless arm finally slapped onto his face.

His face was damp, making his palm moist and slippery as well.