Bear School Astartes

But in the end, Darkley’s parched throat still moved up and down, and then he clenched his longsword.

Perhaps it was because he knew there was no way to escape the Demon Hunter’s tracking, or perhaps because he had convinced himself that ’Lann was bluffing, trying to scare him away’.

These reasons didn’t matter anymore.

In any case, Darkley’s eyes were red as he picked up his enchanted longsword and slowly approached Lann.

”Ah.” Lann retracted his outstretched left hand and tilted his head.

”You chose a path that makes me feel relaxed.”

This is a bluff!

Darkley kept emphasizing this point to himself.

I saw through him! I saw through him!

Since he had already chosen to act, he had to give himself confidence and courage, even if it was false.

That’s why so many warriors use symbolic rituals like war cries, tattoos, and totems.

Because mentality can significantly affect a person’s physical fitness, technique, and tactical thinking; a good mentality is of course much better than a negative mentality.

Bean-sized sweat droplets were already rolling down Darkley’s forehead, but even when they slipped into his eyes, he dared not blink even once despite the stinging pain.

He just stared unblinkingly and watched any of Lann’s movements closely.

He should still use that twisting motion from before; otherwise, the sword simply cannot swing fast.

Darkley’s gaze swept over Lann’s arm and the [Murk Flow] he was holding in his hand.

At this unavoidable moment, all of his past battles and combat experiences from his previous life surged back in a frantic recollection.

These things, which could be called ’battle wisdom’ to a certain extent, made Darkley’s thinking agile and his mind flexible.

That kind of wild swordsmanship is actually very slow; hitting the target can only be achieved through prediction.

Levin did not die due to the Demon Hunter’s great strength, but because he was too foolish! His combat intentions were too easy to understand!

Darkley glanced at the corpse beside Lann whose head had been smashed by his enchanted shield.

He wouldn’t make, nor could he afford to make such mistakes.

In the distance, the Demon Hunter indeed raised that intimidating large sword on his shoulder again, assuming an offensive stance.

Darkley became increasingly cautious, preventing his tactical intentions from being discerned.

But just as Darkley was more than four meters away from Lann...

With the sound of a ’whoosh’, air currents swirled as Lann’s [Murk Flow], originally carried on his shoulder, churned the atmosphere.

And in Darkley’s horrified gaze, the ominously large sword flew past him, just grazing him along the edge!

The Demon Hunter threw that sword...

In an instant, Darkley’s mind went blank.

This wasn’t out of fear, but because the situation had completely exceeded his expectations.

Why... How could it be?

All the battle experience and past combat history of his earlier life, the tactical scenarios preset to integrate all these, were based on that intimidating large sword.

In this purgatory, Lann had made too many unforgettable actions using [Murk Flow], enough that all of Darkley’s attention was tied to this ominously large sword.

Heavy footsteps followed closely on the heels of the sword’s whistle.

These were the footsteps of the Demon Hunter; Darkley’s hair stood on end almost instantly!

In a near instinctive survival state, he immediately sidestepped, and with his toes, he flicked up the enchanted shield lying beside the corpse onto his hand.

After doing all this, he finally had the time to glance towards the Demon Hunter with his peripheral vision.

Lann’s speed had already slowed down to the pace of an ordinary person jogging, while his left hand gripped the hilt of the longsword at his waist in a reverse hold.

Darkley immediately recalled the scene where the Demon Hunter used this longsword to perform ’magic’ and sliced many people with one stroke.

But he certainly couldn’t do it now; the Demon Hunter’s magic relied on physical strength and vitality.

Darkley breathed a little relief; though all previous tactical presets had failed at the last moment, at least no major mistakes had occurred now.

The enchanted shield and longsword in his hand constituted an extremely stable sword and shield combination, with much higher safety than before.

The Demon Hunter’s basic physical qualities had become not much different from an ordinary person’s; there’s a fight to be had!

Darkley affirmed this to himself in his heart.

Subsequently, he pressed the shield in his hand forward, preparing to engage Lann with the standard thought process of Sword and Shield Soldiers against the one-handed sword.

But, in an instant afterward...

”Clang!”

A short, dull, cold light of black mist bloomed from Lann’s right rear waist.

This light flashed through Darkley’s neck as if weightless in Lann’s hand.

The Dragonbone Dagger spun an elaborate flower in Lann’s right hand and was promptly reinserted into the sheath at his back waist.

And Lann’s left hand had just been holding the hilt of the Lady of the Lake’s Sword the entire time, with no intention of drawing it.

”You have great courage.”

Lann stopped from the pace of an ordinary person jogging and spoke with a slight breath.

”You actually dare to disregard a warrior — this little knife on me?”

Lann turned his head to look at Darkley’s back, the expression on his face explaining a sentence: how dare you?

Darkley could no longer answer.

His knees suddenly went soft, making a ’splash’ sound as he knelt in the mud.

And from his neck, a horizontal opening, along with his mouth, began pouring thick blood.

’Streamed and trickled’ over the armor, finally hitting the ground.

His hand wanted to rise to cover the wound as if doing so could stop the bleeding.

But this arm couldn’t even lift to chest height; it could only hang weakly beside his leg armor.

Blood churned in his throat, making sounds similar to thick phlegm ’glugging’.

The confrontation since the [Murk Flow] was thrown, Lann’s physical performance remained at the level of an ordinary person.

Yet Darkley was killed without resistance in this ’leisurely’ tempo.

This is the victory of tactical thinking and control of rhythm.

In fact, Lann didn’t know what Darkley’s plan was at first; he was indeed cautious, without showing a hint of intention.

However, unable to guess your intentions, I simply let you follow my rhythm.

Since Lann decisively threw the [Murk Flow], the development of the situation completely turned into Lann leading Darkley’s thinking.

It wasn’t that Darkley ignored the small knife on Lann. He was an experienced executioner and killer, of course, he knew that warriors would prepare auxiliary weapons as much as possible, even a dagger has lethality.

But under Lann’s cognitive misguidance and tactical layout, his mind was already entirely engrossed.