Gwen did not know if his acting skills were up to par, but he was sure that the cultist would fall for it.
Because he was indeed in a weakened state and did not have the strength of a true Legend — there was no need for acting skills in this aspect!
For Gwen who knew his own strength, it was much easier to pretend that he was weak than to pretend that he was still in his prime seven hundred years ago.
Sure enough, when he deliberately pretended that he was weak and that his body coordination had deteriorated, the figure shrouded in the black robe moved.
It was the release of an aura. It was the aura of someone who had finally confirmed his will to fight and was ready to fight. From the corner of his eye, Gawain saw the cultist's black robe shake, and the arm that was hidden under the robe was raised towards him. A clear wave of magic was gathering in his hand.
Gwen had been waiting for this moment, but he did not attack. Instead, he pretended that his balance was disrupted by the Ents of Decay, and staggered a few steps toward the cultist. He closed the distance, but in the eyes of the cultist, it was a move to send himself into the attack range of the spell.
The mutated and obscure Druil's spell was instantly formed. A gray-green light ball containing the power of decay flew out from under the robe of the black-robed cultist. Gwen had completely locked onto the trajectory of the light ball. He did not dodge at all. Instead, when the light ball hit him, he propped up Knight's protective aura and activated Charge at the same time!
The Orb of Decay drew a silent trajectory in the air and hit Gwen's shoulder soles solidly. But at the same time, a circle of translucent energy rippled out from the shoulder soles and nullified all the power of the orb. In the blink of an eye, Gwen turned into a white light and raised his longsword to chop off the cultist's head!
The cultist was obviously stunned for a moment, but he had already fallen into the trap. Like any spellcaster, Druil had a magic buffer after casting a spell. After the previous spell failed, his spirit was in turmoil. At this moment, facing Knight who was charging at him, he could not even cast the simplest protective spell.
But just when Gwen thought that the cultist would use his protective magic item to block his attack, he saw the cultist do something that he did not expect at all.
The black-robed man abruptly took half a step back to avoid Gawain's downward slash. Then, he performed an iron plank bridge to narrowly avoid Gawain's next horizontal slash. He then rolled on the spot, supported himself with one hand, and spun to get up. At the same time, he reached for his waist with his other hand and pulled out a shiny one-handed sword. With a clang, he blocked Gawain's third attack!
At this moment, Gwen's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
But he did not have time to wonder because the cultist had dodged the most dangerous attacks. He was regrouping, and if this guy who practiced both magic and martial arts really regrouped, it would be difficult to deal with him.
So Gwen directly poured Knight's spiritual energy into the Pioneer's Sword, and the blade instantly burned with a temperature of nearly a thousand degrees. At the same time, he pressed down with both hands. Although the cultist's block was amazing, the difference in level was too big. In less than two seconds, the cultist had to roll away from the scorching blade at the cost of his left arm.
Gwen chased after him, and the Pioneer's Sword was like a blood-red light blade, leaving twisted, high-temperature arcs in the air. The cultist waved his one-handed sword and struggled to hold on. Then, something happened that made Gwen's jaw drop — this guy in black was temporarily on par with him with his exquisite sword skills!
Who the hell is this guy?! Wasn't he supposed to be a level-five cultist? What happened to all the Druids from Everything's End being magic type?!
The black-robed cultist's single-handed sword skills were so profound that it was unimaginable. Gwen soon realized that it was pure swordsmanship without a single superpower that belonged to Knight or the warrior. His every stroke was perfect, advancing and retreating in both offense and defense, completely relying on his adept technique and combat experience to parry Gwen's attacks. Without protective aura, mana infusion, or supernatural skills, he actually managed to hold on until now with his single-handed swordsmanship alone!
In this world, there was actually such a martial artist who did not use supernatural powers, and simply honed his skills and accumulated experience? Then what was up with this guy's Druil spell? Or could it be that All Things Doomsday had some unknown class system?
While Gwen's head was full of questions, the cultist he was facing was having a hard time. Even if he managed to hold on for so long with his superb swordsmanship, the gap between their levels was hard to ignore. In fact, if the black-robed man did not wield a blessed one-handed sword but an ordinary steel sword, he would have been cut in half by Gwen in just a few rounds.
After a few consecutive attacks, Gwen had forced his opponent into a corner. He decided not to ponder about his opponent's swordsmanship, and instead directly mobilized the mana in his body. At the same time, he raised Pathfinder's Sword high and unleashed 'Steel Storm', a spell that only high-tier Knight could master.
The black-red blade swung down, and a powerful light burst out in the air. In the light, the blade suddenly split into countless blades, and a storm of sword light rained down like a storm of steel. Each blade carried a powerful shockwave, and under the impact of the scorching 'Steel Storm', the sturdy ground of the castle crumbled like dust and was swept up by the shockwave towards the cultist who had completely lost the chance to cast or block.
The black-robed figure seemed to have given up on resisting. He stood there blankly until the blades and shockwave of the Steel Storm shredded him and the stones around him into pieces, and the unabated shockwave continued to crash into the walls of the assembly hall.
With a loud bang, a big hole was opened in the sturdy stone wall of the castle. The shockwave spread out into the night before it finally dissipated.
A moment later, the few Festered Ents who were still standing in the hall stopped moving. They hung their arms stiffly like robots who had lost their commands. Then, they shook a few times, and the core that emitted a dark red light went out. The dead branches and decayed leaves fell to the ground. These twisted things that stood up against the laws of nature had returned to their original forms.
Amber jumped out of her shadow form and sat on the ground, panting. "Phew … Phew … I'm so tired …"
Knight Philip was also panting. The Festered Ents were no easier to deal with than the low-level Knight, but he could not do something as embarrassing as Amber. So, he just supported himself with his sword and looked at Gwen with admiration. "My lord, you have killed the cultist."
However, Gwen did not look happy. He frowned as he came to the big hole and looked down at the charred debris left behind by the cultist. Due to the amazing heat of the Pioneer's Sword, the remains had been severely carbonized. There was no trace of flesh and blood. "Something's not right … I have a feeling that something is not right …"
Pitman came over, bent down, and picked up a piece of debris. He slowly crushed it in his hand. A moment later, his face turned gloomy. "This is charred bark. The Druil of the Fallen has escaped!"
… …
At the same time, on the roof of Viscount Andrew's castle, a cluster of unusually lush vines suddenly rustled and wriggled. Then, a bulge suddenly appeared in the middle of the vines, and with a disgusting sound that resembled a gush of mucus, the bulge in the middle of the vines was torn apart, and a figure draped in black robes wriggled out.
It was the cultist of the Apocalypse who had luckily escaped. His body reeked of burnt flesh. His left arm was dripping with blood and hanging limply by his side. His robes were tattered and his hood was missing, revealing a thin, pale, middle-aged face with messy brown hair.
He was still holding the 'one-handed sword' in his right hand, but only a small part of the valuable Extraordinary weapon was left.
Cursing under his breath, the cultist put away the small half of the broken sword and staggered forward, preparing to leave this place before the terrifying opponent could react.
However, he had only taken two steps when he suddenly raised his head and looked at a corner not far away.
Byron and Knight were standing there, staring blankly at the heavily injured cultist who had crawled out of a cluster of vines. The two looked at each other for a moment, neither of them able to react.
But it was only a blink of an eye before the cultist regained his senses and pointed at the Knight who had somehow survived. Enduring the stabbing pain in his head, he forcibly chanted an incantation to get rid of the person who stood in his way.
Byron and Knight reacted at once as well. He reached into his pocket and took out something, fiddling with it before throwing it at the cultist. "Have a taste of my hidden weapon of justice!"
As a righteous Knight, he would shout even if he had to throw a hidden weapon.
The cultist just smiled disdainfully and easily caught the 'hidden weapon' that Byron threw at him. Although he was heavily injured, he would not be ambushed by a Level-3 Knight, not to mention that the Level-3 Knight had been cursed by him not long ago and was now in a weakened state!
"You think too highly of yourself." The cultist caught the projectile that Byron threw at him. He did not sense any poison or magic from it, so he was not worried at all. "Very well, I'll use you to replenish my life … Hmm?"
Suddenly, he heard a ticking sound from his hand …
Byron could clearly see that the cultist had reacted at the last moment. The crystal grenade was a completely mechanical thing before it exploded, and there was no magical reaction inside. But the magical aura of the energy storage crystal could still be sensed if one carefully sensed it. A mid-tier Extraordinary would certainly have realized that something was not right after he became alert, but his reaction was still a little too slow. Although he had already thrown the grenade and cast a protective spell over himself, the runic trigger had already been pressed and the detonation circle was activated.
Catching the blast with his bare hands and catching the fireball with his face, he was in a daze.
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