Henwell, covered in wounds, staggers to the door of a room.
“It’s ! Open up!”
Catherine dispels the protective spell and helps the battered Henwell inside.
Then she reactivates the protective barrier around the small storage room.
Henwell anxiously asks, “Where’s the stuff?”
Catherine eyes the various injuries on Henwell, burns, puncture wounds.
One wound looks like a dagger stab, emitting black smoke and a sound like flesh corroding.
On his back is a huge, grotesque gash with skin curled back, exposing ribs.
Catherine worries, “Henwell, rest for a bit. I set up protective spells here that can mask our presence.”
Henwell shakes his head. “No. Your protection is too weak. It won’t hold for long. That Abyss Familiar has locked onto my scent. They’ll catch up soon. Hurry and get the stuff out!”
Seeing Henwell’s insistence, Catherine pulls out a large chest and opens it. The first layer holds a row of potions.
Henwell has already stripped off his torn armor, wearing only his undergarnts.
He points at the potions. “First, use Potion No. 5 on the wound on my left shoulder. That female shadow assassin’s dagger was cursed. It’s suppressing my healing and must be removed first. Then Potion No. 3, pour it on the wound on my back to stop the bleeding quickly...”
Following Henwell’s instructions, Catherine and the remaining female guard begin cleaning his wounds and applying the special potions.
Henwell remains silent the entire ti.
But his trembling muscles reveal just how painful it is.
The female guard glances at Henwell’s furrowed brow, then at Catherine’s worried face.
She can’t help but think, they really are a perfect match.
A knight and a princess.
A Iron Knight and a war princess.
Strength and power.
Valor and beauty.
Courage and wisdom.
As the female guard reflects, Henwell’s injuries are almost fully treated.
Outside the hidden storage room, Jeremy and the others have already arrived.
Jeremy rubs his left shoulder and grits his teeth. “Henwell is really aweso!”
Old Crucible looks down at his completely ruined extraordinary leather armor and says with a hint of pain, “That bastard cut through my defenses with a single sword strike!”
Lady of Calamity says nothing. Her left arm, gripping a black dagger, still trembles. Even after simple treatnt, it won’t recover quickly.
That wound was the price she paid for slashing Henwell’s shoulder. If she hadn’t been fast enough, Henwell’s punch would have crushed half her body.
Jeremy glances at the Abyss Familiar beside him, breathing sparks of fire, clearly furious.
The big guy is badly wounded, with four or five slash marks, one on his left shoulder.
If Jeremy hadn’t stepped in to block, this Abyss Familiar would already be decapitated.
Jeremy rubs his forehead. “Henwell is really tough to deal with. Tell , if I try to talk cooperation with him now, would he even trust ?”
Old Crucible ignores Jeremy’s complaints and keeps casting spells, making his intentions clear.
Lady of Calamity says, “He’s badly injured and hiding here. We have to take this chance to kill him. Otherwise, once he slips back to Peace Haven, we lose our chance forever. When he cos out again, it will be a countdown to our deaths.”
Jeremy shrugs and conjures two glowing swords flickering with eerie flas. “Alright! Then we’re going all out! Since we know the stakes, no holding back. He dies here today or it’s endless trouble!”
After a mont of preparation, Old Crucible begins breaking the protective spell.
Within minutes, the barrier slowly shatters.
Jeremy readies himself for battle. “Old Crucible, knock on the door and ask Henwell to co out and et his guests!”
Just as Old Crucible is about to launch a magic missile, the door swings open from inside.
Henwell grins at them. “You really don’t know when to quit! I’m already ho, and you’re still chasing ? I’m waiting for my gear. What about you? Still not running? What are you waiting for? Waiting to die?”
Henwell stands clad in armor, gripping a greatsword.
Seeing him like this, the others’ hearts skip a beat.
Henwell activates Gene Lock, and the blood-gold flas of Blood Will spread across his body.
Holding two greatswords, he sneers at them. “No one’s giving their last words? Then let’s begin!”
He triggers Will Lock, summoning Shackles of Civilization that instantly wrap around the others.
Henwell notices the chains bind each of them differently.
The Abyssal Berserker Demon is bound by seven chains, suppressing at least 40% of his power.
Next is Old Crucible, with five chains, reducing his strength by over 30%.
Jeremy has four chains, cutting his power by nearly 30%.
What puzzles Henwell is Lady of Calamity. She was his priority target, yet she only has two Shackles of Civilization, suppressing less than 20% of her power.
No matter what, these four are no match for Henwell now.
With his favored weapons, his combat power increases by at least 30%.
Adding his boost and their suppression, Henwell easily dominates the fight.
Jeremy and the others feel the crushing pressure on their strength.
Jeremy grimaces and spits out the words, “Heart of the King!”
Lady of Calamity looks at Henwell in surprise. Old Crucible beside her says, “Maybe we should talk cooperation with Henwell after all!”
Though she says this, Old Crucible’s hands never stop. He silently casts a spell that envelops Henwell.
From the ground, two black smoky hands shoot up, instantly grabbing Henwell.
Jeremy swings his two eerie glowing swords, rging them into a massive blade over four ters long that suddenly appears above Henwell’s head and crashes down.
Lady of Calamity silently chants a spell, her twin blades slashing as several dark dagger shadows flit around Henwell’s position.
The Abyssal Berserker Demon roars, swinging his decapitating greatsword. His body bursts with eerie green flas as he charges Henwell.
They don’t hold back. Every strike is a killing blow.
The intense extraordinary energy ripples through the castle, alerting other professionals who mark the location and avoid approaching.
After the attack, the ground around them shatters and dust lingers.
A massive figure flies out, left arm severed at the elbow.
The three watch with pounding hearts.
Henwell erges from the dust, holding his two greatswords.
His eyes blaze with blood-gold flas. “Haven’t you eaten? Are you just tickling ?!”
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