In fact, even if Belengar had never been far from battle, the result would not be much different.
Of the eight crossbow arrows that flew in, six were aimed specifically at the space around the Demon Hunter to block movement.
Only two were aimed at the body.
Belengar’s leather armor is typical Demon Hunter equipment.
For dealing with monsters, Demon Hunters from other schools would never wear heavy armor.
Because flexibility is more important than protection in battles with monsters.
His set of armor incorporates the design philosophy of the Wolf School, leaving many mounting slots for their expertise in magic potions and bombs.
But these same slots also prevented Belengar from even attaching a single piece of plate armor to his body.
And originally these slots should have been full, but the magic potions and alchemy bombs have mostly expired due to long neglect, leaving them empty.
So when the Quen Rune was broken immediately, two crossbow arrows directly lodged into Belengar’s body.
The sound of the arrows piercing flesh was very slight, but the effect was significant.
The arm holding Belengar’s sword, due to the angle, was pinned together with his stomach from the forearm position.
The other crossbow arrow buried itself directly into his right thigh.
Belengar, like an enraged beast, cursed angrily on the ground while struggling to stand up.
And around this large tent, only then did a group of dark figures emerge from afar.
They deliberately stayed far away, only using bows to aim, and Belengar’s Demon Hunter senses didn’t detect them at all.
The leader approached the struggling Demon Hunter on the ground.
He was a short, stout man, accompanied by two hunting dogs.
"I knew that Demon Hunter wouldn’t give in, so I waited here, but... interesting! Another Demon Hunter got involved in this. Why? You lone wolves have secret communications?"
The short, stout man said curiously, speaking as if he couldn’t see the road clearly, stepping over Belengar’s arrowed leg.
The arrow shaft bent under the step, and the arrowhead inside the flesh was ruthlessly gouged.
Belengar could feel the sound of the arrowhead scraping against his bones!
This kind of pain was unbearable even for a Demon Hunter, and his screams pierced the silent night sky.
Belengar’s neck veins bulged due to the intense pain, and he struggled to crawl away.
But the two hunting dogs didn’t need any command from their master; they opened their mouths to bite the Demon Hunter’s arms and shoulders.
The sharp teeth tore into his flesh, dragging him to the feet of the man.
"Bastard! Dirty slaver!"
Belengar used his remaining arm to punch and smack, but the two hunting dogs, once they bit down, wouldn’t let go, becoming more vicious the harder they were hit.
But soon, even this slight resistance vanished from the Demon Hunter.
Because a foot was pressing on his face, grinding it into the pool of blood on the ground.
The owner of that foot "advised" Belengar in a tone that seemed like a joking friend.
"Brother, calm down. Why are you angry with two beasts? It’s not worth hurting yourself!"
As he spoke, the hunting dog biting at his arm made a crisp cracking sound.
It had bitten through Belengar’s arm bone.
The Demon Hunter opened his mouth wide from the pain but couldn’t make a sound, his eyes bulging.
His arching body shuddered like a dead fish but was pressed down by an even heavier foot, making him unable to move.
"Seems like there’s a little gap between you and that other Demon Hunter..."
The squat figure, Ubank, looked around at the Demon Hunter beneath his feet.
"Lucky I did some research on you mutants: sharp noses, keen ears, launching arrows from a distance works well. Even that Demon Hunter, being turned into a pincushion shouldn’t survive... the gap between you two doesn’t mean much in front of a dozen crossbows."
"Tsk tsk tsk, to take down that Demon Hunter who wanted to rip my throat out, I had to gather a team under my boss’s pressure. Although I didn’t catch him this time, having you here also gives my boss some evidence of the ’Demon Hunter threat’, doesn’t it?"
Belengar looked up at Ubank’s face with eyes that wanted to devour him.
But this Head Eater showed no tension at all.
"Nice look, brother. But honestly, you have no deterrence at all."
"Guys like you, maybe out of righteousness, or a momentary desire to prove the value of your life, run out to play the hero. But I know your type too well." fre/ew.ebnovel.c om
"As long as I hide, and I don’t even need to hide for a few years, just ten days to half a month, once your anger subsides, even if we meet by chance in a tavern, you can hold back your hand from drawing the sword."
Standing on Belengar’s face, Ubank squatted down and stared into his eyes with a smile.
"You’re not the kind of person with the courage to pursue to the end. Your fallback line is always ’it’s all in the past’. But that other Demon Hunter is different..."
Mentioning that figure who stood firm against a whole camp’s pressure in the dark night, never retreating, never fearing, never stopping, Ubank’s usual smile slowly faded from his face without him even being aware.
"I don’t know why that Demon Hunter isn’t afraid. Not afraid of being outnumbered, not afraid of the forces behind it, not... I could even say, he doesn’t care at all!"
"That kind of person, even decades later, when I’m half-dead lying on a bed, just seconds from my last breath, he would surely come with his sword to collect his debt! Even if I have no idea why we would have such a life-and-death enmity, just looking into his eyes tells me he absolutely would."
"That’s real deterrence, brother. That’s why I brought dozens of people and more than a dozen crossbows out here at this ungodly hour to wait."
"If I don’t kill him, I’ll never live peacefully in this life!"
Ubank lifted his foot from Belengar’s face, tilted his head, and the two hunting dogs obediently released their grips, returning to his side.
Two people emerged from the dark figures, one preparing to drag the half-dead Demon Hunter away.
The other walked straight towards the Head Eater.
Whispering into the side of his head with the shaved hair.
After the whisper, excitement bloomed in Ubank’s eyes.
"Such good luck, let’s string the crossbows again and make another run."
"Let’s head toward the Trade District."
In the inn, Lann was sitting in the hall waiting for his and Alia’s dinner.
The hooded cloak was eye-catching, but the innkeeper was confident in the Trade District’s security and wasn’t bothered by Lann’s suspicious attire.
The kitchen staff were quick, and it wasn’t long before a large platter of food was placed on the table in front of Lann.
"Sir, you can eat here or take it to your room. Our staff will collect the dishes in the morning."
The innkeeper’s voice carried a weary routine, a speech likely repeated dozens of times a day.
Lann nodded and suddenly pointed at the glass of red wine on his tray, asking.
"I recall meals here don’t include this."
"It’s from someone else, sir."
The young man wanted to ask further, having no relatives here, and the female warlocks knew well his desire to act discreetly, so who would send him wine?
But the next moment, a hand clapped on Lann’s shoulder, causing the cat-like eyes under his hood to narrow sharply.
Then came a familiar, chilling voice.
"Relax, relax, my friend."
A half-bald head, smiling, appeared before Lann.
"Offering a drink during a visit is basic merchant courtesy."