The scene could not be explained by what the priests knew, so that they first thought it was a visual residual caused by lightning, or an imaginary scene caused by mental fatigue that was mistaken for reality, some kind of illusion that only existed in their own eyes.
Not many people are more familiar with the power of sharp weapons than they are.
A skilled swordsman can easily open a hole in his opponent's body, or even stab him through. It is completely different to be able to split a heterogeneous object with strong bones and strong tissue into two.
To complete this process smoothly requires more than just strength, but also a weapon that is unimaginably sharp.
Not to mention that there is a set of breastplates hidden under the target's robe, forged in one piece.
The rain seeped into the lining along the collar, and the dampness and cold crawled up my spine.
The pale light hidden in the lightning disappeared and lasted only for an unnoticeable moment. The tall grass kept dancing and swaying wildly, making it difficult to tell whether anything was passing through it.
"There... there's something on the right front!" Kraft tried to point out his discovery to others, but was unable to accurately describe the location due to the lack of reference objects.
At the same time as he made the sound, he realized the danger of his behavior, and immediately lowered his body and lay on the horse. Something with a low-pitched roar flew past close by, disappearing into the vast night.
In the sound of rain, compared to the death that attracted everyone and the rolling thunder that followed, these hidden murderous intentions did not receive the attention they deserved.
He threw the lantern in the direction where the light went out, "Over there! Be careful they have arrows!"
The monks had already reacted, bypassing the possible threats in front of the road, and moved separately towards the direction pointed out by the wasted light.
The monk at the end of the team quickly moved closer to Kraft and protected him in the middle.
However, the target of protection did not want their protection. Instead, he chose to ride his horse into the tall grass and run in an arc towards the direction from which the arrow flew.
No matter what the relationship between that light and the unknown smooth cutting was, he didn't want to fight with someone who didn't know the details when someone was targeting him. A stray arrow from the dark might be more dangerous than a change that would cause alertness.
While moving, two more things flew past, but they were not heading towards him, but towards the target with the lantern still on.
The sound of horses neighing passed through the rain curtain, and someone's body fell to the ground and rolled into the grass, making a painful groan like mud bubbling, hoping that the horse did not crush his leg bone.
The concealment effect of the rainy night is two-way. Turning off the lights temporarily erases Kraft's direction of action from the opponent's field of vision, and the second shot makes the shooter's position more precise in perception.
He felt that he caught the vibrato that was cut by the heavy water curtain, which was the slight vibration of the bowstring that had released its stored energy.
Accordingly, the direction was adjusted again, and the steady horse galloped toward a place beyond sight according to the owner's request.
With night vision that is better than nothing, he can vaguely determine that he is heading in the right direction and what is in the undulating grass.
The rider corrected his direction for the last time, raised his sword flat to one side, and began to accelerate.
The wet wind howled along with the raindrops, and the ground was muddy and damp, minimizing the traces of one person and one horse. Only the rustling of separated and twisted grass blades was indistinguishable from the chaotic sounds around them.
Then there was a dragging sound of muddy water, as the paste was lifted up from the ground and thrown around.
It wasn't until the sound of shoes breaking through puddles came into their attention that they realized that the heavy creature on all fours was approaching, and they hesitated whether to avoid it or continue to complete the half-stretched winding.
But it was already too late, the sword was tilted down, and the light touch hit it like raindrops, which were flying over the broken grass tips.
He encountered a little resistance. With the speed accumulated, the blade easily overcame this resistance and pushed forward unstoppably. It hit something hard and carved a long defect before deflecting slightly.
Just for a moment, the resistance disappeared. It seemed that a liquid thicker than rain erupted and splashed, mistakenly poured into the gas pipe, and the two mixed together, creating a dense and sticky foam.
No more voices, there will be no more voices.
The rider took advantage of the situation and opened the distance, turned the horse's head, accelerated again without any other thought, raised the sword flat, and recalled the practice of sprinting back and forth in the castle courtyard, where the horse, man and sword passed by the same position.
My guess was correct, there was more than one person there.
Another flash of lightning provided a brief look at each other. The other party should have been wearing a mask, but it had been completely wet by the rain and fell to his chin, revealing a blank and pale face that looked like he had not seen the sun for a long time.
The electric light disappeared, and the vision after the flash became even more complete. I could only feel a slight pause on my hand, the viscous liquid was left behind, and the rain washed away the part left on the spine of the sword.
After sprinting for a while, Kraft belatedly realized what he had done besides repeating two sprints.
It may have been the first time he faced a "person" in the real sense just now. It was so easy that he felt incredibly relaxed. He had not even had any real feelings yet and was constantly turning to the main battlefield.
So far, there are only sparse sounds of metal clashing coming from there, indicating that only a small-scale close combat took place, and it ended quickly. The lights representing the monks were moving at high speed, disappearing and appearing, flashing across the rain.
dotted line.
It looked like they were still looking for the culprit who killed their companions, but the tall grass on a rainy day was not a good place to look for anything.
Kraft rushed there. He saw that light again, that extremely empty and pale light. It was excerpted from a certain celestial body and grafted to a place where it did not belong.
The nearest lantern light suddenly dropped and sank into the waves of tall grass.
This time, as expected, some more secretive atmosphere was detected. Some force forcibly tore a narrow crack on the neat paper surface, separating the things.
Whether it's mane, bones, or armor that can withstand powerful crossbows, it makes no difference at all - they're all just images on paper.
Like a scar on a living organism, it didn't last long, but after enough time for an entire team to pass through it, it gradually healed, erased, and concealed another similar but not completely overlapping layer behind it.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "Turn out the lights!"
That thing is not a sword or flying arrow. It does not follow ordinary logic and has no trajectory. Keeping the light source is just setting up a target for the opponent.
And the two reminders finally attracted attention, which is not a good thing.
The gap that separated the present world has not yet been completely closed. Kraft clearly felt that a trace of unabated malice bloomed in front of him, accompanied by unbearable cries of pain. It seemed that this scar first acted on the canvas before tearing it apart.
The creator himself.
Perhaps the direction of the sound exposure was too accurate. This time, the sense of crisis was unprecedentedly close, reaching an inevitable distance.
Kraft subconsciously tried to rein in his horse, and almost at the same time realized that it was useless. The galloping horse could not be stopped immediately, and the consequences of the two precedents were still vivid in his mind.
"damn it!"
He let go of the reins and made a very standard illegal action, turning sideways.
The curled up body left the saddle, and the straw cushion cushioned part of the damage. The rolling made the process of unloading the force longer, but the remaining force still made people feel that there was no pain anywhere inside and outside the body.
The scrapes and scratches burned the exposed skin, the shock vibrated in the chest and abdomen, and the ligaments pulled tightly against the organs.
However, his mind, which was well protected, was still clear. He ordered his body to regain control as quickly as possible and pulled off the heavy, wet cloak.
The sound of a horse falling to the ground due to loss of balance was heard not far away. The rain was joined by the sprayed warm liquid, and the high pressure created by the strong heart was pumped into the air from the stump of the interrupted large blood vessel.
".I don't think the Xiguo family will accept the partial return."
He staggered up from the muddy water with his sword in hand, and his clothes became extremely heavy. Kraft was sure that he now looked like he had just been fished out of the curry pot.
He could still tell the direction in which the light last appeared, so he held the hilt of the sword tightly and leaned forward to get closer.
With the strange light and sound, some monks also noticed this place. They turned off the lanterns, and the chaotic sound of treading water was approaching. Everyone was stuck in the darkness and groping in chaos, and the situation was chaotic.
There was still the metallic trembling sound of weapons clashing in the distance, and there were many attackers.
But the rest are just insurance to make up for when there are deficiencies. There is always only one person who plays a key role. The threat that almost ruins the entire team is not far away.
The guy was not very professional. As he slowly approached, Kraft heard erratic gasps of pain, as well as signs of activity from more than one person, very close to each other.
"Here!" A monk discovered something first and called his companions, but then there was silence.
The light disappeared in a flash, and it was much smaller than before. It was a costly guidance. Kraft seized the opportunity he provided and pursued the goal.
When he was close enough to hear his breathing clearly, he suddenly charged forward with all his strength, and then stopped in two or three steps.
Sure enough, that pale and misty light lit up in front. This time Craft saw how it appeared.
It was a dark, almost colorless stone-like object, stripped off from a complete geometric body. At this moment, it was passively stimulated through some means, and briefly "ignited" the light that illuminated another world.
The way the light is radiated is like destroying the spinal cord on the dissecting table, peeling off the clean toad limbs, and connecting the contraction response during electrical stimulation.
The "electrode" connected to it is a skinny palm. The fingers are so slender and pale that they cause discomfort, they are half longer than the average person. There are dark veins with obvious contrast running under the skin.
[Someone should really teach them that fighting is not a fight]
The early deceleration left Kraft with room to dodge. He leaned around the invisible blade, slammed into the opponent's upper abdomen and diaphragm with his elbow, grabbed the palm of the hand and twisted the wrist outside the angle of movement.
It's best to catch this guy if you can.
It turns out that the opponent's pain tolerance is quite good, and in this case, he can still try to fight back with his remaining hand.
He grabbed the waving arm by feel, then let go and flinched as if he was electrocuted.
A whip-like attack passed by.
Just a second ago, he felt movements that were not part of normal bone and joints and were indescribably flexible.