Lightning-fast, he drew his broad sword, holding it horizontally before him.
The arrow struck the blade, sending out a shower of sparks and making Carl stagger slightly.
The redhead across from him waved his arm lightly, his voice indifferent.
The other two pounced without a word, their speed unimpeded by the thick ice beneath their feet.
One, wielding a long spear, leaned forward, adjusting his stance so the spear tip remained aimed at Carl’s heart.
This was the most common move for a spearman. An inch longer is an inch stronger. The long spear, combined with the body’s weight in an accelerated thrust, could easily pierce a wild beast. Fast! Accurate! Ruthless!
Clearly not a Knight Attendant, this thrust’s power was already no weaker than an ordinary Knight Attendant’s.
The other, armed with a long knife, advanced with quick, short steps, his eyes fixed on Carl, ready to strike at any moment.
Compared to the Assassins and Fire Stealers of Sigerno City, these people were obviously more adept at fighting others.
Or to say, each one was battle-scarred and experienced.
Carl swung his broad sword to intercept the long spear, his body colliding with the knife-wielder.
The tremendous force shattered the ice on the ground. Shards flew and scattered as the three figures became entangled.
One of them staggered back.
Seizing the opening, Carl’s eyes sharpened.
Zero-Circle Magic—Lesser Spellforce Field!
An invisible force field materialized, instantly enveloping the area. The expressions of the two charging men changed drastically.
Influenced by the force field, their movements slowed and their attacks faltered; flaws appeared in their once-seamless coordination.
Before one of them could finish speaking, a broad sword swept towards him. His head flew high, blood gushing over a foot from the severed neck.
Carl’s expression was icy as he seized the opportunity to strike fiercely.
The knife-wielder’s chest was torn open; he screamed and staggered back.
Just as Carl was about to press his advantage, his expression suddenly changed. He lunged sideways, rolling to evade.
As he lunged, a fireball the size of a human head whistled past where he had just stood, smashing heavily into a wall.
Prolonged freezing temperatures had made the wall as hard as steel; a longsword could only leave a shallow scratch on it.
Now, the fireball struck the wall and exploded violently, blasting a hole through it and melting the surrounding ice and snow.
If it had struck a person, even a Knight Attendant would likely have been incinerated on the spot. What kind of tactic was this? Witchcraft?
Heart pounding, Carl didn’t hesitate in his actions, flipping to charge at the redhead.
It was he who had just raised his hand and launched the fireball.
Unlike others he had encountered in the Black City.
The redhead’s clothes were opulent, his hair smooth, and his face devoid of grime. Even his leather boots were spotless, suggesting a status far above the others.
Facing Carl’s charge, the redhead didn’t ’cast a spell.’ Instead, he drew the sword from his waist, the blade a blur of afterimages as he swung it.
Such speed... A Knight Attendant! And definitely not a newly advanced one.
Carl let out a low shout, his speed increasing once more.
Battle Skill—Gale Slash!
Four afterimages materialized, merging with the true broad sword. In an instant, five sword images engulfed his opponent.
Aided by the Zero-Circle Magic—Lesser Spellforce Field, the very air within several meters seemed to thicken.
The clangor of collisions was like a torrential rain.
The redhead clearly hadn’t anticipated the invisible force field. His expression changed dramatically, but his movements remained composed.
Though visibly strained to his limit, the redhead, relying on his solid fundamentals, managed to block the onslaught.
With a flick of his longsword, the two clashed in mid-air.
Suddenly, a glint of light appeared from nowhere. The brightness was agonizing for those accustomed to the perennial gloom of the Black City.
The redhead instinctively shut his eyes, then immediately recognized his peril.
The broad sword swept across, tearing a long gash in the redhead’s abdomen. Carl pivoted and struck fiercely again, extinguishing the man’s life.
Carl stood, broad sword in hand, breathing heavily, his gaze fixed on the last man remaining.
The heavily injured knife-wielder.
Three corpses lay strewn on the ground, hot blood pooling around them. Carl’s face was also pale.
The people of the Black City were exceptionally vicious.
Even at an absolute disadvantage, they would fight to the death—a trait distinct from the fanatical Fire Stealers.
Savage and venomous, they treated human life—others’ and their own—as worthless. Perhaps the very environment of the Black City had forged such natures.
Searching the redhead’s body, Carl looked confused. "No Demonized Items?" he muttered.
He hadn’t forgotten that the man had ’cast a spell’ in combat.
A Wizard Apprentice activating witchcraft would cause spiritual power fluctuations. Ordinary people couldn’t detect them, but as a fellow Wizard Apprentice, Carl wouldn’t miss them. There had been no discernible spiritual power fluctuations just then. Such a thing only occurred when casting spells using Demonized Items.
Yet, there were no Demonized Items on the corpse.
Stroking his chin, Carl’s eyes gleamed. He bent down and stripped the clothes from the redhead’s corpse.
Suddenly, his gaze fell on the left arm of the corpse.
His broad sword flashed, cleanly severing the arm. He wrapped the limb in cloth and departed hastily before others could arrive.
Several figures appeared on the scene.
"The redhead is dead," one person crouched beside the body and spoke in a muffled voice.
"The person who did this was efficient, killing three people in a short span of combat. Among Knight Attendants, this person is definitely an expert."
"They also took the redhead’s Dharma Seal." The person inspecting the body lifted their head, revealing a delicate and pretty face. "Big brother, does the Scythe Association have such an expert?"
A burly figure stood not far away, like a huge bear. He shook his head slightly at the question.
"No." He clenched his hand in the air. "The five leaders of the Scythe Association, including Gorlon, all died by my hand."
"Then it was done by someone else." The woman shrugged. Though a comrade had died, her expression showed no sympathy. "Red Hair was really unlucky to run into an expert ."
"Investigate," the burly man spoke in a low voice. "Anyone who kills a member of our Brotherhood, no matter who they are, must pay the price."
"Yes." The woman nodded and let out a low whistle.
Instantly, the surrounding earth trembled. Rats scurried from shadowy corners, sniffed the ground, and then scattered in all directions.
Divine Domain Fragment.
Carl retrieved a wide-mouthed glass container from a pile of items and filled it with an experimental solidifying liquid.
Finally, he submerged the redhead’s arm in it.
He had brought back the arm not due to some grotesque fetish, but because of the patterns etched upon it.
Carl supported his chin, thoughtful. A Magic Model?
The markings on the arm were complex and bizarre. Prolonged observation could induce dizziness, much like a Magic Model.
The redhead was not a Wizard Apprentice and had no Demonized Items. He was able to cast spells, probably because of these patterns. He wondered if they could be deciphered.
Analyzing Magic Models was a mandatory discipline for Wizards.
Otherwise, upon acquiring a Demonized Item, how could one discern its activation method or the witchcraft it replicated?
All this required analysis.
However, for a novice, analyzing a Magic Model was no easy feat, even a relatively simple one.
Could it be that this Otherworld also has witchcraft? Hmm... Or perhaps they call it a Dharma Seal!
Carl had heard of Dharma Seals before, but his interactions were limited to common folk, so his knowledge was superficial.
Carl mused. Perhaps... I should invest more effort in exploring the Black City.
He was no longer the ordinary person who had to tread carefully in an unknown world; he was now a Knight Attendant and a Wizard Apprentice of considerable combat strength.
The redhead’s strength hadn’t been weak; he had withstood a Battle Skill head-on even while affected by the force field. Though perhaps not Dana’s equal, he should have been close, yet Carl had still slain him.
By this reckoning, Carl’s strength was comparable to that of a peak-level Knight Attendant.
Based on recently gathered intelligence, the most formidable figures in the Black City were merely Knights. A peak-level Knight Attendant was already an elite expert within any faction.
However, for safety’s sake, and to avoid any potential surveillance from the other side, he decided against going there for the next few days. He would bide his time.