Six-Armed Serpent Demon

Page 105

If it weren't for the stone glove's destructive power, he would have been turned into dumpling filling by now, having desperately punched and shattered all the surrounding "blade barriers."

The basement was surrounded by six-armed snake demons on all sides.

With each breath, the "turtle breathing" and "self-hypnosis" took effect, and the pain from all the burns on his body disappeared. He felt that his mind had reached an unprecedented level of concentration.

Burn Scar turned his head and looked at Ivy Beatrice at the entrance of a tunnel.

He didn't even know how he made that judgment, but he knew that it was the real enemy!

Ivy Beatrice sneered.

In this short time, it's not just Burn Scar who's recovering. "Rapid medical treatment" has allowed the dislocated and shattered bones and tendons in her arm to quickly heal themselves and return to their original state.

It's just a pity about Shadow Fencing.

She thought bitterly.

The six-armed serpent demon began to consider retreating.

Without enough swords, there's not enough destructive power, even though I can continue using "Blade Barrier" to entangle him. But this guy can freely move between timelines, making it difficult to achieve the same level of damage as before, and that stone glove he's holding…

Before she could finish thinking, she saw the person opposite her, with the burn scar, moving his head and four arms, making his joints crack and pop incessantly.

Suddenly, he leaped up like lightning.

The next instant, she watched in disbelief as he crawled back into the tunnel and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

This guy actually ran away.

Burn Scar leaped out of the tunnel entrance to the bedroom, and under Patrick's "never expected" gaze, he used all four arms and two feet to flip over and smash through the bedroom window before disappearing into the vast night.

He ran through the dark wilderness, his teeth bared.

—Whether it's "Static Body" or "Time Strike," both place a great burden on the body, and they are not techniques that he can use indefinitely right now.

—If we don't leave now, we might never have to leave again…

Chapter 122 Kneeling

Patrick whistled softly as Burn Scar jumped down from the tunnel entrance and headed straight for the basement.

He would be happy to see Ivy Beatrice die.

However, in the eyes of a tactical mastermind like him, Burn Scar would hardly be able to kill Ivy Beater.

He didn't know how the former Greenman had become what he was now, and even that he had mastered the ability to shatter force fields with his bare hands (he didn't notice the scarred stone gloves).

However, there is a basic common sense: if you can't win, don't fight.

Definitely.

If everyone's level has reached this point, and if there is a food chain in the community of intelligent beings, then they would all be considered top predators.

Unless a situation becomes unavoidable, who would be foolish enough to fight to the death? They're not idiots.

The tactics of masters in a duel are basically the same: If I can't beat you today, goodbye. I'll come back tomorrow with a new method and some new equipment to settle the score with you.

Without exception.

The six-armed snake demon was clearly a master among masters in this field; he could only be described as slippery.

Based on past encounters, Patrick judged that Ivy Beate was no match for the former Greenman in either offense or defense. But what made this former Greenman capable of stopping the Six-Armed Serpent Demon's advanced teleportation technique, which allowed him to evade thousands of miles at a moment's notice?

Patrick possesses a scroll with a "dimensional lock" and can also cast "dimensional anchor" magic.

But to help with burn scars?

What an international joke.

After the burning of the harbor, Patrick, the "Red Assassin," joined the Inquisition, a secret department of the fiery city, to escape punishment from Demogorgon. Thus, with the help of the bronze dragon's power, he temporarily escaped Hesrati's punishment.

But you have to put in the effort to get the reward.

Let's try to put it as tactfully as possible:

Patrick demonstrated his intelligence in dealing with the recent innocent arrests of Greenmen, offering many constructive suggestions on torture. His pragmatic approach, which involved personally implementing these suggestions each time, earned him the trust of the court's leadership.

The moment the three men started fighting with Scarface, Patrick guessed who this guy was.

This guy is someone the Inquisition must hunt down and eliminate.

Once this guy learns his identity, the former Green Man would probably be more willing to fight him to the death than Ivy Beatrice.

Fortunately, he managed to appease him with just a few words.

If you give someone a target to vent their hatred, you can make them obey like a dog.

Patrick smiled slightly as he watched Burn Scar jump into the tunnel entrance.

Ideally, Scarface and the Six-Armed Serpent Demon would fight to the death, but if that wasn't possible... he'd rather see Scarface's head than see him win.

He never expected that the scar would jump out and run away so quickly.

Patrick's expression changed.

This shows that he made a major mistake in predicting Ivy Beatrice's fighting ability!

The red assassin turned and ran, rushing towards the unconscious dragon in the living room.

At the same time, he cursed inwardly.

If he were acting alone, he should have teleported away by now. But now, as a new member of the Inquisition, he must be accompanied by a Watcher when he goes out. Although he successfully corrupted this Watcher, turning him into a demon cultist like himself.

But for the court, this watchdog cannot afford to get into trouble!

Patrick pounced on the dragon like a whirlwind, grabbing the unconscious creature and activating the "teleport" spell in his storage ring.

However, nothing around us has changed.

He saw himself still in the living room, still holding onto the dragon's arm, and the old supervisor, his neck twisted into a pretzel, still lying not far away.

Patrick's forehead was covered in sweat.

All the magic that had been constant on him had stopped working.

Not only that, but none of the many magical items he had on him could be activated.

The dimensional pouch at her waist has been transformed into an ordinary leather bag.

Even his most treasured legendary weapon, "Crimson Kiss," has been turned into an ordinary recurve sword!

This is the power of the "anti-magic field".

There are three people in the house who are still able to move.

One was myself, the other ran away, so who else could have cast the "anti-magic field"? There's no need to rack your brains to guess.

Furthermore, the "anti-magic field" typically surrounds the caster, affecting only a small area. Therefore, the six-armed serpent demon who cast this spell was less than ten feet behind him…

Anyone who thinks of a spellcaster who has lost their magic fighting a six-armed serpent demon who can slice people like vegetables with a sword in an "anti-magic field" is probably courting death.

Patrick didn't want to die.

He took a deep breath, then slowly knelt on both knees, keeping his upper body straight.

He respectfully held up the "Crimson Kiss" with both hands, raising it high above his head.

Since ancient times, offering one's sword with both hands has been a sign of surrender.

“Thank you,” Ivy Beatrice’s voice came from behind, as expected. “You’re so thoughtful. I was just short of a sword.”

A light touch on both hands; the "Crimson Kiss" had been taken away by the person behind them.

"You're too kind."

Patrick gave a bitter smile; he felt as if his heart was bleeding.

But then, it wasn't just his heart that was bleeding: Patrick's eyes widened as unprecedented horror swept through his brain and heart.

The "Crimson Kiss" was casually placed above his shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ivy Beatrice holding the legendary weapon, which was radiating a scarlet magical aura!

Patrick hurriedly checked all the magical items and his dimensional bag again.

That's right, the "anti-magic field" is still in effect; all his magical items and all his constant magic are still being suppressed, but...

How can this be? !

He felt his sanity was slipping away faster than when he was facing his own demonic master.

"What did you say about it again? This recurve blade, I found it in ruins north of the ocean. I call it Crimson Kiss; it's a legendary weapon forged by the Dawn Titans, the Soul Drinker's Crimson Blade. Once kissed by it, besides the physical pain, you'll also be affected by an energy drain spell..."

Ivy Beatrice's curious voice came from behind: "Can I try?"

Those few simple words sent chills down Patrick's spine.

His features scrunched up: "Can I refuse?"

Before he could finish speaking, he groaned and saw his right hand, severed at the elbow, roll haphazardly into the corner of the living room.

Patrick remained kneeling, motionless, his face and forehead covered in cold sweat. The severed hand wound was painful enough, but the sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes didn't even sting him.

"Can I stop my bleeding?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"Please."

Ivy Beatrice's voice carried a hint of regret, revealing that she was not entirely satisfied with the result of the sword trial.

"Please allow me to point out your error."

As Patrick tightened the rope around the veins in his upper arm, he said, "I guess you should feel your life force increasing. It seems you have some way of being able to resist the suppression of the anti-magic field?"

"Hmm, please continue."

“The increased life force,” Patrick said, “means that the Crimson Kiss’s drain spell has actually worked. For every level of life a target loses, it gives its master a significant amount of temporary life force. However, I am currently within your anti-magic field, so even though the drain spell that hit me just now reduced my life force by a large amount, it has been suppressed.”

"That makes a lot of sense, thank you for clearing up my confusion."

“Well, so I have a small suggestion,” Patrick said sincerely. “You could step back a little, briefly let me leave the anti-magic field, so I can clearly see how much of my life force has been eliminated by the Crimson Kiss… I surrender, I’m missing my right hand, and I have no power to resist you. You want to test your sword, not kill me, right?”

Ivy Beatrice was surprised.

"Wow... I never expected you to be such a reasonable gentleman... But I really do want to kill you, what should I do?"

Patrick sighed. This was the worst possible situation; the other side was like a cat that had caught a mouse and was now playing with it. If he didn't find a way to break the deadlock, he was doomed.

"I don't remember us having such a deep grudge..."

"I don't have any grudge against cockroaches, so why can't I help but stomp on them when I see them?"

“That’s a real shame,” Patrick licked his lips. “We’re here today for another reason, and there’s something else going on with the Beate family. Don’t you want to know?”

"Not interested in."

"What about intelligence on Zaire?"

“…What Zaire?”

Patrick caught her momentary hesitation, and his eyes lit up.

"Stop pretending, my dear. I can hear the wavering in your voice, though that's rare for a demon," he said, his tone still relaxed despite his severed hand and heavy blood loss. "Zaire, of course, the ruler of Samarach, the Archmage Zaire. He's the one who hired me to capture you alive. I guess this will save my life. Right?"

Ivy Beatrice became curious.

"But I am a demon, and you believe in demons... so why do you think I won't break my promise?"

Patrick did not answer directly: "Zaire, he is the messenger of the Nine Hells, a great devil."

His emerald green vertical pupils narrowed.

Patrick knelt on the ground, his face growing paler and paler, and sweat pouring down his face.

After an unknown amount of time, he heard Ivy Beatrice's question, which sounded like heavenly music: "What else do you know?"

"Oh, I know a lot more, exclusive information that will make you feel it's worth the money."

After saying this, Patrick fell silent. Clearly, with his life in danger, he would absolutely not utter another word.

Ivy Beatrice gave a short laugh.

"alright, you win."

She said lazily, "Someone like you, even if I don't kill you today, someone else will. But thanks to your advice just now, I was forced to get beaten up—no, I mean, I got into a fight, and I'm still seething with anger. What do you suggest we do about it?"

Patrick sighed.

May I stand up to reply to you?