The [Turbulent Flow Greatsword] was crafted for the purpose of dealing with large, resilient targets.
Gascogne isn’t particularly large, but given the current combat requirements, the only weapon Lann has that can do the job is this greatsword.
The airstream was stirred up once more!
A tremendously tense overhead chop!
No... considering the shape of this greatsword, it should be called a ’downswing’!
The beast roared frantically, his hands crazily reaching for the falling huge sword blade, trying to fend it off. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel⸺fire.net
But Lann’s expression remained calm; when using this sword, he didn’t even bother with the basic sword path adjustments.
The basic strength of a Demon Hunter indeed couldn’t compare with the beast-like Gascogne.
However, the power of a weapon also depends on how it is wielded.
A hammer swung in a wide arc delivers more damage than one that is just slammed down with the same force!
[Heavy Strike - Horizontal Slash]!
The power from the center of gravity transmits through the joints, intensifying with each flow.
And finally, this power pours unreservedly onto the massive sword blade!
The sword blade collided with Gascogne’s talons, the clean cracking sound of bones and the beast’s wailing were drowned in a bell-like crash.
Originally knocked down, just barely standing, Gascogne’s two furry arms wafted in the air like noodles, once again blasted away!
He even pirouetted on the dirt road before rolling into a ball, crashing into the jagged standing tombstones.
At the position where Lann swung the sword, the dust on the ground was jolted into the air, forming a cloud of dust. But immediately, it was sliced open by the sword blade like parting the sea, spreading to the sides like waves.
The sound of thick leather soles scraping the ground.
Lann’s charge was crisp and nimble, but wielding the [Turbulent] gave an added air of heavy oppression!
The palm-wide, hefty blade stabbed horizontally into Gascogne’s already bent leg, the dull blade shattering his bones.
The priest, almost completely turned into a werewolf, extended his neck howling, trying to claw at the Demon Hunter before him with his hands.
But in the last brief confrontation, his arm bones had already shattered into pieces.
Gascogne’s upper body leaned against a sturdy stone tombstone after being pinned by [Turbulent], Lann raised his knee...
The steel knee guard of the Bear School Armor struck fiercely against Gascogne’s head and face!
The howl was interrupted, and even his jaw, elongated like a wolf’s, was knocked askew!
Lann took out the music box that Viola gave him before he left the Yusefka Clinic.
Upon opening it, a duet by two children’s voices emanated, the voices belonging to Ovilia and Victoria.
When the music box played, Gascogne cried out in anguish again, trying desperately to bury his ears into his shoulders that could still move.
It seemed that the song was extremely painful for him.
But Lann was a good ’doctor,’ patient suffering means there’s efficacy!
The knee strike, the force transferred to Gascogne’s head, then rammed into the tombstone, each strike forming a small vortex of air from the floating dust!
After a few strikes, Gascogne no longer had the strength to even shrug his shoulders.
Henrik was bewildered since Lann took out that huge sword.
But seeing the already suppressed Gascogne, he instinctively reached inside his coat pocket.
Suddenly, the old hunter’s expression froze.
"I’m out of blood vials! Do you have any?"
Lann ’boom’ gave another knee strike; the beastly patient’s life force was too tenacious, so he must ensure Gascogne remains suppressed.
Henrik’s shout didn’t cause him any ripple.
The Demon Hunter reached into the alchemy pouch on his lower back, pulling out a test tube-shaped blood vial.
This was the [Healing Blood] refined by Yusefka using her own blood; anyway, Lann wasn’t planning on injecting it into himself, so he plunged it into Gascogne’s neck, now covered in black fur.
As the blood from the vial entered Gascogne’s body, his manic beastly actions suddenly froze.
The body trembled, but this tremble was more like a reflexive spasm, shivering, rather than with added bestiality.
The black fur was receding, and the deformed skeleton was relocating.
The additional damage caused during the resetting was also healed by the blood therapy.
"Ssshhh," pulling out the [Turbulent] pinned in Gascogne’s thigh. The towering werewolf curled up, transforming back into a human amidst neurotic limb spasms.
The music box lay beside Gascogne’s head, still playing the song the two little girls sang for their father.
Lann shouldered the [Turbulent], tilting his head and asking Henrik.
The old hunter took off the triangular hat, placing it on his chest.
"Yes, it’s over. The blood you gave just now seems to be of high quality, even better than my usual blood vials, so it was quite effective. But..."
Saying this, Henrik’s eyes showed a puzzled expression.
"Why did my blood vials run out so fast? The night just started... No, I must’ve been too careless."
Lann didn’t respond to this.
The [Mental Control] covering at least the entire Yan’an was quite something.
Many here were beginning to notice the dissonance between tonight and their usual perceptions: clearly, not much time had passed, yet their bodies and minds were weary. Incense was burning one after another. Blood vials, which should have sufficed for a night, were already depleted.
Under normal circumstances, they should have reacted by now.
But on such a night, it seemed no one could break out from this vicious circle.
"By the way, where did you pull out such a massive sword from? I’ve only seen weapons of this scale on Church Hunters, no, yours is even more extreme. They at least attempted to reduce the weight of the weapons, but you seem to have deliberately added weight."
"A little trick from an outsider, I actually brought quite a few things to Yan’an."
The Demon Hunter said dismissively, and the old hunter didn’t delve into it either. The Yan Nan People have seen enough incredible things, nothing surprises them anymore.
As Lann and Henrik chatted, easing the tension after the battle, Gascogne on the ground finally ceased the reversal process of the mutation.
He heavily grasped the music box beside his head, then laboriously turned over, clutching the music box to his chest.
"Sorry, Henrik, Lann..."
His voice reverted to the gentle priest’s.
"Apologies for troubling you."
Henrik put on the triangular hat, stepping forward to pull him up.
Lann, on the other hand, puckered his lips.
"You’ve completely lost your ability to fight for the short term... go be with your family."