Someone they knew very well.
Someone they can't forget.
It was Michael Owen, the " Slaughter Thorn " who had been encountered in the restaurant earlier that day, who called himself one of the Four Thorns under the command of King Chambord. He was a black knight who looked only thirteen or fourteen years old. However, at this moment, this arrogant boy had changed into a tight-fitting outfit made of some kind of magical beast hide. His clear eyes were filled with impatience as he stared at the mercenaries like a beast eyeing its prey.
"Lord Owen? What are you doing here?" the burly man in the red turban Earth Inquiry expressionlessly. He gripped his battle sword and made a gesture behind his back. More than twenty mercenaries silently dispersed, each taking up a position, subtly forming an extremely concealed formation that quietly surrounded Owen in the center.
"[ Dragon Hunt Plan ]? What's that?" Owen asked softly, frowning, as if he hadn't noticed.
This was the first informative word he had heard during the nearly ten hours he Concealment in this courtyard. If the red-turbaned captain hadn't noticed something amiss and wanted to disperse and lie in wait, Owen really wouldn't have wanted to reveal himself so quickly and alert the enemy.
The scarred, burly man grinned, licked his sword, and suddenly snarled, "Lord Owen, do you want to know? I'll tell you. It's simple: it's about the plan to hunt down the evil dragon, King Chambord." As he spoke, the fiery red Dou Qi around him began to blaze, and the twenty-odd mercenaries silently surrounded him.
"Oh, in that case, why don't you elaborate a bit more?" Owen also examined the black, gleaming dagger in his hand, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Want to know... hahaha, go to Hell and ask Death! Hahaha, the Flame Python's Wen!!!!"
The scarred, burly man suddenly launched an attack. A heavy battle blade transformed in his hand into a gigantic fire python—a terrifying illusion created by Five-Star Class Dou Qi technique. Its eerie, wailing sounds were enough to disturb one's mind. The giant python, formed from flames, plowed across the ground, carving a treacherous, unpredictable path. It moved with incredible speed, closing in instantly, its gaping maw spitting out its forked tongue, radiating scorching heat, relentlessly lunging towards Owen.
Meanwhile, mercenaries who had ambushed them from all sides launched their attacks simultaneously.
This is a formation combat technique frequently used by the [ Wind-Racing Horse ] mercenary group. It is not complicated, but it is very practical. When used by multiple people in coordination, it can unleash several times its power. It can often combine the strength of the group to kill a powerful expert at the Moon Class. If they take the lead in positioning themselves, they rarely miss.
A violent surge of Dou Qi aura engulfed Owen's figure.
The scarred man was overjoyed, but in that instant, a chill ran down his spine, and he felt a bone-chilling fear, as if he were being targeted by a venomous snake. Danger overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.
"Damn it, the enemy... they actually have reinforcements! They're utterly wicked!"
In that instant, he finally understood that [ Slaughter Thorn ] Owen had not come alone. In the shadows, there were his companions who launched a ruthless surprise attack. In this life-or-death moment, the burly man with the cross-shaped scar could no longer care about making a move against Owen. His martial instincts made him immediately roll backward and retreat, his battle sword spinning 180 degrees and slashing behind him at an odd angle.
His mercenary career, which teetered on the brink of death, honed his combat reaction speed to an extreme degree.
All the movements were performed in one smooth motion, without the slightest delay.
However, it was all in vain.
This swift reaction, which he himself found extremely satisfying, brought him no chance of survival. The icy chill on the back of his neck, after only a brief pause, quickly pressed against his carotid artery, followed by a faint, indifferent voice in his ear—
"If you want to die, then move."
The voice was ethereal and otherworldly, carrying an indescribable charm, like a refined gentleman from a turbid world looking down upon the mundane realm.
Throughout the entire ordeal, the burly man with the cross-shaped scar couldn't even clearly see what kind of opponent had used a weapon to block his vital points.
Before them, without the strong man with the cross-shaped scar and the coordination of the 'array eye', the array combat technique suddenly became incomplete, losing its maximum damage power. In the chaotic flow of Dou Qi qi, [ Slaughter Thorn ] Michael Owen's figure, as elusive as a ghost, drifted around like willow catkins, without the slightest trace of fire or smoke. He was like a human lightning bolt, and wherever he went, an experienced mercenary fell down silently without any resistance.
The [ Wind-Racing Horse ] mercenary group's formation tactics seemed to be entirely within their opponents' expectations.
Every fleeting opening was calculated by [ Slaughter Thorn ] Owen.
Like butterflies flitting through flowers, in the blink of an eye, more than twenty carefully selected elite mercenaries all collapsed limply to the ground.
Feeling the terrifyingly cold touch on his neck, the burly man with the red headscarf and cross-shaped scar stared in horror, but he was helpless and powerless.
Owen stood unharmed, habitually licking the black dagger in his hand, his expression extremely relaxed, his eyes filled with contempt and disdain as he looked at the burly man with the cross-shaped scar.
"Who is it? Tell me, who are you?" The burly man with the cross-shaped scar felt his heart sink. He was asking the person standing behind him who had taken him hostage.
" The Four Thorns beneath the throne of King Chambord, [ White-Robed Thorn ] González Raúl." That ethereal, indifferent voice, carrying an otherworldly air, rang in his ears.
Chambord City, there is a charming backyard of a post station, fragrant with green grass.
"Hey, what's going on? I already told you this place is completely booked by our [ Fire Blood ] Mercenary Group, we're not accepting any more guests. Are you deaf? Why are you still trying to go in! Stop right there! I'm talking to you guys, what's going on? Stop right there!"
The entrance to the backyard of the post station.
Two attractive female mercenaries in tight-fitting clothes, their faces contorted with anger, hurriedly caught up and blocked the three strangers who were about to barge in. The two girls blocked the passageway, their expressions unfriendly, gripping their weapons as they sized up the three uninvited guests.
"Little sister, you'd better move aside, I'm looking for your captain." Among the strangers, a tall, thin boy who looked to be only fourteen or fifteen years old grinned, revealing a set of neat, white teeth.
"Hmph, do you think you can just see our captain whenever you want?" the girl with short red hair said indignantly.
"That's right, first state your names and get a number. We'll talk when our captain is free. We've already had over a hundred lecherous devils like you with ulterior motives. Save your breath. You're far from being able to woo our captain!" another girl with long black hair in a ponytail glared at him.
"No, I'm afraid if I tell you our names, you'll all run away." The tall, thin boy winked.
"Pah! Why would our captain run away? Who do you think you are...?" The little girl with short red hair and chubby, baby-faced features wore a disdainful expression. However, she wasn't entirely stupid; in the next instant, she seemed to understand something. She tugged at her companion with the black ponytail beside her, gave her a wary look, drew her slender sword from her waist, Earth Inquiry fiercely, "Tell me, who are you?"
"Alright, Lisa, let our three distinguished guests in." Just then, a clear, melodious, and soft voice came from the back courtyard, and a beautiful young woman wearing a black magic robe, with a parrot-like magical beast with a long, colorful, and beautiful trailing tail perched on her shoulder, slowly walked in.
Third update.
YY channel is recruiting event managers, another formidable opponent; sponsorship of any event is discouraged.