Anya returned to the governor’s mansion.
As usual, she ditated a bit before resting, but for so reason, the magic power that had been unchanged in her body for a long ti suddenly stirrred.
"What happened?" Anya raised her head in surprise.
Why was her magic power so active tonight, as if sothing had awakened it from within?
Anya found nothing.
She pondered hard but had no answers. When she looked up at the candle stand before her, Anya couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it. The candle fla was warm, and her fingertips got a little grease, then instinctively, she looked at the fla.
Suddenly, in an unconscious motion, a flicker of fla ignited from her fingertip.
This scene seed to have startled her.
Soon, the fla on Anya’s fingertip extinguished, but she quickly realized, as she concentrated, a new flicker of fla erged again.
"Can I use spells?"
Anya’s expression was sowhat incredulous. She turned to look at a belt, and in the next instant, the belt seed to animate like a living snake, automatically flying into her palm, twisting around her arm in circles, and finally stopping at her command. The animated rope returned to normal.
"Sothing must have happened in Bath!"
Suppressing her excitent, Anya murmured, "Is it because of the revival of faith in the Divine Spirit?"
At the sa ti.
In the Hot Spring Temple in Bath, the Crow Queen, Triss, assisted by her maid, sat down for a rest. She specifically asked the maid to layer soft cushions, just about to breathe a sigh of relief, she soon sensed sothing unusual.
Woo woo woo!
A gust of wind whipped up in the room of the Crow Queen, Triss, even though all the doors and windows were closed.
"Wind of Magic?"
"Sothing seems different?"
The Crow Queen, Triss, disregarded her mild physical discomfort, standing up excitedly, and began chanting with her lips. Suddenly, a beam of moonlight shone through the window onto her palm, and this moonlight transford into the shape of a bow and arrow.
As the Crow Queen drew the Moon Bow, a radiant light flashed, and a marble pillar was shot with a hole, its power comparable to when Duncan used the Nord Bow to shoot a Wind Arrow.
"My powers? Have they returned a bit?" the Crow Queen murmured.
A gust of wind kicked up.
The Crow Queen, Triss, suddenly disappeared in place, her figure transforming into a swarm of crow-like black mist in the hall, then reappeared ten ters away as if she had teleported.
Her power had indeed returned to so extent, but not to her peak strength.
In strict terms, the strength that the Crow Queen, Triss, regained was roughly equivalent to Heretic Julian’s period, nearly a hundred years ago.
Now, she could use many low-level witchcraft spells normally, but powerful magic was still greatly restricted.
At the temple plaza.
Duncan was venting excess energy, thinking that the Crow Queen, Triss, was a little chick who, though no good at magic, was fun to play with. Anya could at least extinguish fires confidently, while the Crow Queen could only stir them up, leaving Duncan feeling conflicted and seeking sothing to work out.
Huh?
Why does it feel a bit light?
Duncan lifted a stone pillar weighing several hundred pounds, planning to do a hundred squats, when he soon sensed sothing was off.
It felt a bit light.
Duncan curiously looked at his own hand, let go with one hand, and exerted his full strength. His muscles bulged, and with just one hand, he lifted the pillar weighing hundreds of pounds.
Holy crap!
Had he broken through his strength limit?
Duncan tried once more and discovered that under full exertion, he could easily lift thousands of pounds without breaking a sweat. If he used all his potential, without entering a Great Frenzy, he could probably lift around a ton.
Not only did his strength improve, but Duncan’s overall physique also surged trendously, enabling him to lift such a heavy item.
He could easily leap onto the second floor from flat ground, crush warhorses effortlessly while sprinting, and his body strength and reflex speed reached a whole new level of power that he found hard to comprehend.
"Soone co."
Duncan thought of sothing, summoned his nearby guards, and said solemnly, "Bring a battle bow."
The general’s personal guard nearby looked puzzled, but soon brought him a battle bow.
Duncan casually threw it to one of them. The man’s archery was passable. Duncan instructed, "Shoot an arrow at ."
The general’s guard’s expression showed a hint of fear, but this was the governor’s order, so he nervously fitted an arrow and aid at Duncan, who was tens of ters away.
It was already late.
But fortunately, there was firelight nearby. Not daring to fully draw the bow, the strongbow still launched the arrow with a whistling sound.
Whistling!
The sharp arrow flew through the air.
Duncan’s expression was sowhat displeased, and without drawing the Oathkeeper, he suddenly reached out and caught the flying arrow.
"Draw it fully." he said calmly.
The nearby generals’ personal guard were shocked; the one who was drawing the bow did so reluctantly, afraid to aim directly at critical points, missing slightly instead.
Whistling!
The second sharp arrow ca.
Without drawing the Oathkeeper, Duncan, in the darkness, snatched it, palm swiftly grasping the arrow as if it were lightning-fast.
The plaza was in an uproar.
"Again."
"You all shoot," Duncan was eager to test himself further.
The bowstrings trembled.
Five sharp arrows whistled through the air. Duncan’s Oathkeeper finally left its sheath. Clang, a glimr of cold light flashed, all five arrows were deflected and cut down.
Was this even human?
Duncan, without breaking a sweat, did several dozen deep squats with a half-ton stone pillar. Only when he saw the distant figure of the Crow Queen, Triss, did he casually toss it aside and walk in her direction. Judging from the hurried look of the Crow Queen, Triss, she must have sensed so changes in the world.
Sharon Battlefield.
In the Gaul region, torrential rains persisted recently. Beneath the pouring rain, a tall figure was hiding under a large tree to avoid the rain, completely drenched and looking quite bedraggled.
Demon Hunter George.
Ever since he ceased to participate in the internal conflicts of the Church, he traveled all over Europe, slaying various supernatural creatures.
Life is alright, just a bit financially tight.
The Roman Church is very wealthy, extrely wealthy, but George didn’t want to use their money. He relied on slaying monsters and so additional inco to get by, while also considering the funding needed to establish the Demon Hunter Brotherhood. Thus, his days were often quite tight.
When he first t Duncan, he saved on inn expenses by directly making do for the night in a stable.
Hmm?
What is that sll?
While ditating with his eyes closed under the torrential rain, Demon Hunter George suddenly opened his eyes. His human eyes instantly turned into vertical dragon pupils, piercing the darkness to see so commotion in the distance.
Too many people died in the Battle of Sharon.
Recently, the Gaul region has been unsettled, with Ghouls and other monsters appearing from ti to ti, and even the wrongful dead specters and spirits.
During the day, it’s basically fine.
But at night, getting close to the Sharon Battlefield might bring encounters with unclean things.
No one in this era runs into the wilderness in the middle of the night.
A wet and rotting stench wafted through.
Demon Hunter George erged swiftly, quickly approaching a river. Under the torrential rain, a streak of blood appeared in the middle of the river, and when he looked up, he saw human heads erging from the waves on the water’s surface.
"Water Ghosts?!"
"How co there are several Water Ghosts appearing at once?"
The Demon Hunter slowly unsheathed the longsword behind him, jumping directly into the river. His formidable physique was unafraid of the swift current, fighting in these Water Ghosts’ natural environnt. In just ten minutes, he decapitated them and climbed onto a patch of marshy ground.
"I seem to have gotten stronger?"
Demon Hunter George looked at his hands, a puzzled expression on his face.
In the past, it took considerable effort to deal with Water Ghosts, but today he slaughtered them as easily as a lamb.
Ooooooh!
A faint mournful wail arose.
In the torrential rain, a mist rose faintly, forming into a fog. The sound of clattering armor and hooves erupted. Suddenly, several Huns’ cavalry figures erged from the gray fog.
But they were not living beings; rather, they appeared as half-ghostly, half-real phantoms.
"What on earth is happening?"
"Why are the spirits repeatedly resurrecting on the Sharon Battlefield?"
Demon Hunter George’s expression gradually turned serious. Unlike the Water Ghosts, these fallen Hun elites had greater strength. He deflected the arrows with his sword, and as the arrows fell to the ground, they turned into black smoke and vanished.
He rapidly advanced, accompanied by a flash of cold light.
Rumble!
A bolt of lightning crossed the sky, and several Hun riders fell one after another. Amidst the cracking sparks, the rain intensified, drenching the Demon Hunter. Behind him, only beheaded evil spirits remained, dispersing into mist.
The surroundings seed to alter as if trapped in a maze, with rain and mist overlapping, blurring directions.
Clop, clop, clop.
A heavy sound of hoofbeats resonated.
In the core area of the Sharon Battlefield, where tens of thousands had died, a headless figure on a black skeletal warhorse, clad in heavy armor and covered in arrows, appeared.
— Sangis (Alan, the Exiled Monarch) (Lost Celestial Destiny)!
Demon Hunter George’s expression turned deeply serious. He slowly grasped his longsword with both hands, assuming a defensive stance, and focused on the abrupt figure appearing in the rain.
So strong!
This was no ordinary spirit.
The warhorse stampeded forth.
The headless Sangis alone seed like an army charging, with the shadows of Alan’s elite horsen appearing behind him.
Clang!
Sparks flew.
A bolt of lightning sliced through the sky.
A wound appeared on Demon Hunter George’s left shoulder, blood mingling with rain as it flowed. The warhorse beneath the headless King mourned as Sangis fell, rose instantly, and drew the longsword at his waist.
Too strong!
Could this truly be a spirit of this era?
Demon Hunter George had slain countless supernatural creatures, but this was the first ti encountering such a powerful spirit, perhaps even stronger than the monster was in life.
No, it won’t work.
The weather is against !
The heavy rain severely impaired his vision, while the enemy seed unaffected.
After so contemplation, Demon Hunter George suddenly turned and fled, for he saw Sangis mount an undead horse erging from the black mist again.
Plunge.
This Demon Hunter, known for decades, fled for the first ti when facing a monster, diving headlong into the river’s turbulent current.
The warhorse neighed.
Amidst a reluctant roar, Sangis’ headless figure slowly vanished.
.........
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