"You're quite confident in your armor, mate."
Once again parrying the heavy sword that was swung down, Lann exerted his toes and suddenly darted within the arm span of the European Knight.
Visibly with the naked eye, the opponent clad in full plate armor was momentarily flustered.
Though he wanted to use the cross-guard of his giant sword, and the pommel ball at the end to strike Lann next. This was the required close combat skill of Heavy Armored Knights.
However, it was clear that his proficiency in close quarters combat did not match his skill in swinging the giant sword.
Lann's sword hilt pushed against the inside of his elbow, and an intensely penetrating force directly surged into his nerve cluster.
The tactic was identical to the one used by Iwami Yixin against Lann's plate armor bracer that day.
The European Knight's performance was far worse than Lann's at that time.
With his nerve cluster hit, that hand went limp instantly.
"My armor! How could it be..."
A muffled voice from within the armor resonated disbelief.
It seemed that this foreign knight had never witnessed the ability to penetrate armor and precisely strike the nerve cluster.
Indeed, a Samurai Sword was difficult to inflict effective damage on the full-body heavy armor from Europe, but with Lann's current strength and skill...
Taking him down wasn't very troublesome!
[One-Stroke Slash·Double]!
Not using the light, sharp, yet useless blade, Lann aligned himself for two vertical strikes with the hilt instead.
Stepping forward while placing the full weight of his body into the weapon, he chopped down together!
"Thud!" came the sound, the European Knight's shoulder shook backward first. The hand holding the giant sword involuntarily loosened.
The second metal striking sound echoed as the hilt clashed with the junction of the opponent's chest and abdomen. Fresh chapters posted on novel※fire.net
The intensely penetrating force directly pressured the opponent's respiratory nerves, resulting in temporary respiratory dysfunction.
The tall knight immediately bent his waist down.
Lann's leg blocked behind the opponent's knee, his hand clad in studded leather gloves covered the helmet from the front.
With a twist of his waist and abdomen, a two-meter-plus tin tower was thrown by the Demon Hunter's single hand holding the head, tracing a beautiful arc in the air, slamming 'thud' onto the ground!
The surface of the wooden bridge shook subtly, accompanied by the 'crack' of wood breaking, dust deposited in the tiny crevices was jolted and scattered.
Lann retrieved his hand pressing the faceplate. Meanwhile, the European Knight already floored was twisting in pain on the ground.
His two hands clad in iron gloves frantically clawed at the helmet, trying to find the latch to remove it for easier breathing.
But the biological instinct brought by oxygen deficiency prevented him from grasping the once familiar helmet latch, leaving him scrambling in confusion.
Lann calmly looked down upon him, only stepping forward and 'clack' opening the neck latch after his movements weakened from lack of oxygen.
With the helmet removed, the knight took a deep breath. His face was indeed as Lann expected, a deep-eyed, high-bridged white man.
Appearing over forty, his medium-length hair and beard were messy and dirty, dark circles on his eye sockets were notably thick.
The whole person seemed haggard and anxious.
This didn't look like the image of one obsessed with the power of immortality.
The Demon Hunter's blade poised from above, resting against the exposed neck.
"Now you should be rational. Tell me, why would a Southern Barbarian appear at this temple?"
The white man gasped for quite a while to ease the temporary respiratory dysfunction.
He sorrowfully glanced at the blade resting on his neck and shook his head helplessly.
"I beg you, have mercy, kind sir..."
He confessed his situation to Lann with a humbled, pleading tone.
Old Robert, a wandering Hired Swordsman. His son suffered from an incurable disease, and he learned that in the far eastern island country, there was a temple researching immortality that had already achieved what was called 'Transforming Water'.
As a father, what choice did he have?
Only to come and plead the temple masters to grace his son with the 'Transforming Water' gift.
Immortal Peak Temple gave him a test—the Chiben Sword.
To defeat a thousand people trying to break into Immortal Peak Temple and take their swords, only then would his son, Little Robert, be bestowed Transforming Water.
"I beg for mercy from you."
Laying on the ground, the tall knight beaten to immobility begged again.
"Please, go back, just leave me the sword! Your swordsmanship is superb; I'm no match for you. I'd willingly use my savings to buy your sword!"
Lann pursed his lips, looking at this unceasingly pleading man.
He was a remarkable Warrior; his strength, physique, and this clearly valuable, finely crafted full set of equipment all highlighted what a spirited past this man must have had.
Even within Iwami Country, no more than ten people could deal with him.
But now, he lay at the front of an island nation's temple door, begging an intruder to leave his sword.
Not like a powerful Warrior, more like a beggar.
If Immortal Peak Temple's promise was genuine, this behavior could be understandable. Perhaps, after saving his son, he could become a tale passed down generations.
'Foreigners sincerely devote, finally fulfilling their wish after enduring trials' kind of story.
But Lann knew well... Immortal Peak Temple, was no longer a temple that still 'offered worship'.
"You've never ventured inside Immortal Peak Temple, have you?"
Lann shook his head, speaking helplessly.
"You've merely been driven mad by your child's illness, then heard gossip. Once here, you didn't even dare to contemplate the possibility of the rumors being false. Whatever the monks told you to do, you did without hesitation. The pain and anxiety born of love left you no room to think lucidly. You didn't even make it past the temple's gate."
According to Blackhat's account, the monks who have become increasingly obsessed with the immortality path have even began to neglect hiding their 'research traces'.
If Old Robert had ventured inside, he likely would've witnessed human remains already 'studied' firsthand.
No one should feel at ease sending their child to such a place.
"No need. People like me bear... murderous karma? Yes, such impurity. Entering the temple would contaminate the masters' spells. As long as I can halt you all, Robert is certain to be cured!"
Old Robert spoke more and more resolutely; it was the instruction given to him by the masters inside the temple, and he believed it firmly.
But Lann's gaze towards this knight turned a bit pitiful.
He was already driven insane by his son's terminal illness. Now he dared not let himself disbelieve the temple masters.
"This temple is not as good as rumored... well, whether you believe it or not is up to you."
"I will go inside. If you wish to pursue, I do not care. But my personal suggestion is, you'd be better off staying here."
Lann spoke in a sigh-like tone, returning the sword to the sheath at his waist, heading towards the temple interior.
This man's son was likely already gone.
Staying here might still make him feel slightly better. False hope is hope after all.