And just at this mont, a stifling scent of blood, accompanied by the sound of sothing slicing through the air from behind, infiltrated Qianli’s nostrils with a breath.
As if sensing sothing, a look of intense horror appeared on the woman’s face, and she twisted her body forcefully, hunching down while rushing forward.
It was too late.
The next second, a scimitar enveloped in a thick layer of crimson was already swirling as it sliced through her body.
From the outside in, first was her long hair that scattered and swayed behind her due to the violent movent of her body, then the lightweight leather armor that had no defense ability to speak of, next was the inner lining soaked with sweat, and then her skin, muscles, bones, and organs, finally cutting through the front abdon and repeating in completely the reverse order.
Her legs took the last step under the influence of residual body signals.
The upper half of her body was separated from her lower half by inertia.
Blood gushed out, searing and steaming, spilling intestines all over the ground.
Sliced in half by the scimitar, her body fell to the ground in two parts.
The pain that had gone beyond her body’s threshold was subconsciously blocked out.
Qianli’s upper body tumbled a few tis before finally lying on the ground facing upwards.
Pupils contracting and expanding, her mind blank with no thoughts, just awareness numbing as perception gradually dissipated.
She had no grand tales of adventure, nor mories worth reflecting upon before death.
Just like at this very mont, quietly and soundlessly passing like the dozens of other adventurers on the Aifala Continent suffering the agony of death.
"Plop."
The sound of slightly staggering footsteps ca from inside the church.
Thick blood dripped from fingertips, trickling down the hilt, eventually sticking to so pattern at the end of the blade.
Marcus, holding his other scimitar, slowly approached.
Compared to before, his current state was incredibly worse.
Qianli’s last strike was not in vain.
The fatal blow from a Level 2 professional, executed at the cost of two fingers and her weapon, was not sothing that could be simply avoided or blocked.
Like a pie bitten by a mischievous child, there was a semi-circular cut in his side.
Undoubtedly a grave injury.
Even downing an entire bottle of Healing Potion couldn’t heal it, relying only on specialties in Constitution and potions to barely retain the ability to move.
Considered lucky.
If not for the ability to dodge slightly with combat instincts.
It would be him lying on the ground, body severed in half.
"Qianli, your little smarts... are still the sa as when I first t you."
Marcus muttered, but his hand was ruthless, plunging the scimitar straight into her heart.
Sending his long-ti, now dying teammate completely to Hell.
He staggered forward a few more steps, retrieving the other scimitar lodged in the ground to sheathe it.
Then, on that face covered in blood droplets and sweat, erged a long-absent smile.
For most adventurers in this world, from Transcendent, Legendary Level powerful beings to the little people battling Green-skinned Goblins on forest plains,
the stage of cleaning up the battlefield after combat was the most exhilarating part of the entire quest.
The sense of reward after effort, the anticipation of spoils when searching the bodies, even the surprise of unexpected discoveries sotis.
It’s an irresistible experience relished by any adventurer who endured hardships along the way.
Marcus was no exception.
Even if the adventurer team he painstakingly assembled was down to just him, with himself heavily injured and probably needing ti to recuperate in the town.
But compared to his gains on this trip, it was all worth it.
With a lingering ferocity, his eyes looked towards the innermost part of the church, bathed in light from the do, at the Magic Wand with an orange-red gemstone embedded at the top, flickering with an extraordinary ashen glow.
Marcus’s face showed growing excitent.
"How much could it sell for?"
He pondered joyously.
"5000 gold? 8000 gold?"
"Or even five figures?"
At this mont, he was already planning a beautiful future when the gold coins were in hand, whether to buy a manor in the countryside to live like those so-called "noble lords", or stay in the big city and enjoy the conveniences there.
Suddenly, a set of footsteps, no longer concealing itself, sounded abruptly from the mist behind.
Marcus, becoming alert, turned swiftly while his hands instinctively gripped the handles of the blades at his waist.
Then, he saw a vague black silhouette in the depths of the thick mist, and behind it, a massive and twisted fierce figure with a mane swaying with the turbulent airflow.
The intense sense of danger that erupted in his heart, the deadly aura that made his scalp tingle, led his hands to willingly grab the hilt, seemingly ready to draw his scimitars.
The next second,
An awing wolf howl emanated from the deep mist, like a bronze bell ringing in his mind, freezing all thoughts in an instant.
Leaving just a profound fear from an unknown source, sprouting like wild grass filling his heart.
Suffering severe injury, with a fragile and exhausted mind weakened by intense gambles short-tid, it was instantly overwheld.
A buzzing in the ears, a daze.
By the ti Marcus’s awareness returned to his mind, all he glimpsed was a sharp sword light flashing at lightning speed, leaving an iron-gray afterimage in his vision.
As well as a headless corpse stiffly standing and spurting blood from its neck stump.
Before he realized what had happened.
Then, the extre dizziness from the rapidly spinning vision and a mysterious weakness filled his mind.
Darkness, like a tide, swallowed Marcus’s consciousness.
"Bang."
The spinning head and its beheaded body hit the ground together.
Xia Nan flicked a sword flourish, shaking the blood droplets off the Beheading Longsword.
Took a glance at the few corpses on the ground, with no clear emotion on his face.
Yet a sense of baffling sentint erged unbidden in his heart.
Though surpassing his professional level with much higher physical attributes due to transcendent skill and superior battle specialties, his combat power far exceeded the given professional level.
Yet facing this four-mber adventurer team head-on would definitely not have been an easy win, perhaps having to reveal so cards or be moderately wounded.
However, now with four opponents dead, he hadn’t even broken a sweat, with the biggest exertion being finding a discrete place to hide the Steel Chain Whip from the hefty knight.
The only two he fought directly, the Green-skinned Half orc was on the brink of death, and Xia Nan rely delivered a finishing blow; the leader-like man wielding dual blades seed in better shape than the forr, though marginally, with little strength left.
Using Teeth Hunting and Vortex Slash, the other was overwheld by Chilling induced fear, offering no resistance, and was beheaded instantly.
Surprisingly easy for Xia Nan, even making him consider deepening his stealth skills if given the chance in the future.
Although he was more accustod to vast and open conflict styles, stealth like today’s encounter turned out to be a unique experience.
Without sheathing the sword, Xia Nan’s gaze swept over the bodies of the man, Ranger, and Dwarf, confirming they were all dead.
Only then did he turn towards the Magic Wand atop the altar ahead.
Took a few steps forward, only to suddenly stop.
Frowning, his eyes shifted towards the corpse pinned by an arrow from the battle’s start, the dried remains in a tattered Priest Robe.
Needing no close inspection.
The intense fiery sensation from the Wooden Sword Green Pine, threatening to ignite the air, sending scorching waves at the back of his neck.
Even casting glowing embers bright enough to catch glimpses through the corner of his eye.
Already declaring the unseen threat posed by the dried corpse.
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