Chapter 110: Hunting and Slaughter, Part 2

The arrows naturally came from Dean’s Hand Crossbow.

Clang!

After the arrows from the Repeating Hand Crossbow hit the strongest among them, Dean drew the Longsword in his hand and directly activated [Military Swordsmanship (Emerald) (Goth)], starting a new round of slaughter. The leader’s subordinates were not many, but there were six of them—clearly, the enemy had already figured out the number of Tier Territory’s guards.

Only in this way could they come up with such precise numbers.

Thud!

A perfect semicircle. Under the bright Moonlight, the Longsword, with its metallic gleam, swept past before their eyes.

Dean’s targets didn’t even have time to react to the chain reaction. They collapsed one after another, clutching their throats. As the first target fell, the second followed.

The arc of the semicircle suddenly became sharp.

It was like a Spear thrown through the air, piercing through the gaps in the ribs and penetrating the heart.

“Ah!!”

A scream of agony came from the person in front of him.

Amidst such screams, the remaining four Defendi Territory men finally snapped out of it. They drew their weapons and charged at Dean frantically.

After all, Dean didn’t look in good shape at the moment.

His Longsword was tightly grabbed by one of their companions. Although he had quickly killed two of their companions and injured their Captain in a flash, they didn’t know about the poison on the arrows. The leader, whose nerves were numbed by the poison, couldn’t tell his subordinates about this.

However, their weapon being ‘blocked’ was clearly their chance.

All four men thought so.

Therefore, they seemed even more eager.

After all, after a heart was pierced, one’s Strength certainly couldn’t be maintained for long.

They had to take out this sudden attacker before—

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Four throwing knives were drawn from the lining and thrown with a wave of their hands. The loud sound of breaking the air indicated that these knives carried extraordinary force.

Anyone knew that great power would inevitably bring absolute speed.

Therefore, these four throwing knives were very fast.

At the same time, the four men charging at Dean, eager to kill him, were also moving very fast. In fact, their speed was so high that when they encountered such a counterattack, they were caught completely off guard.

Thud, thud!

Two unlucky men had throwing knives inserted into their throats; clearly, they wouldn’t survive.

The remaining two managed to dodge vital areas, but blood marks appeared on their cheeks and necks, clearly scraped by the throwing knives.

And that was enough!

Not only did the arrows carry poison, but Dean’s throwing knives also had poison on them—in fact, if not for his ‘Knight’ identity, Dean would have even poisoned his Longsword.

However, even without poison, Dean’s Longsword was lethal enough.

Without hesitation, Dean raised his sword and struck down. The two Defendi Territory men who had fallen to the poison received an invitation to death.

In less than a minute, all of Defendi Territory’s reinforcements, except for the leader who was lingering on with difficulty, were killed by Dean.

Having done all this, Dean calmly walked toward the last survivor—just like Defendi Territory’s plan, Dean also had his own plan; in fact, Dean didn’t mind reaching Vauban County peacefully.

But the previous bear trap and the subsequent traps made Dean wisely abandon his original thoughts.

‘People are only of two types: those who are dangerous, and those who are potentially dangerous—the former need to be dealt with now, and for the latter, you need to kill them before they kill you!’

Like the Old Knight who had once saved him, the Old Thief who trained him often said similar things.

It was more extreme than the Old Knight’s, but sometimes, after thinking about it carefully, there was still some truth to it, especially after suffering setbacks several times.

Dean didn’t regard it as a supreme truth.

But he took it as a warning.

At least, when facing enemies, Dean would never be soft-hearted.

Undoubtedly, the Defendi Territory men in front of him were enemies to Dean at this time.

“Spar… Spar…”

The nerve-numbing poison and the fear of death could only make the leader utter such single syllables.

In response, Dean’s Longsword wiped across the other’s neck.

[XP+20]

As someone who had reached Knight-rank Strength but lacked only the Baptism, the opponent gave Dean considerable experience. Adding the 15 XP contributed by the six subordinates earlier, Dean’s XP reached a new height once again—

[XP: 198]

It only took two more points of XP to reach [Dragon Swordsmanship Lv2→Lv3].

For Dean at this moment, this was naturally extremely simple.

After all, there were still four targets on his hunting list.

Any of these four targets could provide him with enough XP for leveling up.

Of course, Dean didn’t leave in a hurry because of this. He carefully cleared the Battlefield and counted the loot—pushing an iron cage containing a Snow Bear, Dean believed that the enemy’s speed allowed him to afford this waste of time.

Dean didn’t want to lose those arrows from the Hand Crossbow or the throwing knives.

After all, in Tier Territory, he couldn’t get these things—although they were available in Vauban City, the difficulty of obtaining them was not small at all.

Whether it was some shady shops or even the Thieves Guild’s stores, there were special people keeping an eye on things.

And Dean was absolutely different from when he came—he had a fixed lodging, so he needed more time and more detours to shake off those followers.

For Dean, after entering Vauban City, he clearly didn’t have time to do these things.

Whether it was the Spy head of Goth or the ‘Knight’s Baptism’ he was about to face, Dean needed to arrange things properly.

Besides his deputy’s weapons, Dean’s loot included some other gains—

Potent Sleeping Potion!

Just by looking at its luster, Dean could identify what kind of Potion it was.

After all, back then on Secret Spell Island, he relied on these things to resist the pain of multiple Baptisms.

With just a little reduction, a Potent Sleeping Potion was a quite excellent anesthetic.

“A Potioneer?”

Besides this bottle of Potion, there was a small booklet recording several formulas. Holding the booklet, Dean looked at the Corpse with quite a bit of surprise—although when he saw the dazed Snow Bear, Dean knew the owner should understand Potionology, he didn’t expect it to be at the level of a Potioneer.

However, Dean didn’t regret killing him because of this.

An enemy is an enemy, and a dead enemy is the best enemy.

Dean was just surprised that, with the identity of a Potioneer, the man could have gone to Vauban City to get better treatment. Marquis Vauban would definitely not refuse a Potioneer’s loyalty; after all, no one could guarantee they would always be healthy and disease-free, especially for older people.

And Marquis Vauban was obviously quite old.

“Was he wanted in Vauban City?”

Dean thought of the only possible explanation, and without hesitation, he slashed off the man’s head with one swing.

Although he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, Dean didn’t mind trying—of course, this head wouldn’t be taken back directly, but would first be hidden elsewhere.

As for the place where Dean stood?

This was undoubtedly a location well-known to the Defendi Territory men.

He didn’t want to leave things here.

And Defendi Territory knowing what he had done?

Come on, this was something both sides knew clearly.

…

Creak… creak…

The weight of the Snow Bear in the iron cage made Carl’s group walk very slowly, far slower than before, not even a fraction of the previous speed; moreover, it consumed a considerable amount of effort.

Carl’s subordinates, who were close to Knight-rank, had already begun to pant.

Carl himself wasn’t like that, but the sweat on his forehead was enough to show that he was struggling considerably.

In fact, after capturing the Snow Bear in Tier Territory, if the Snow Bear’s carcass wasn’t cut up, a horse pulled it. Now, the horse’s job was given to people.

Even a Constitution far surpassing that of ordinary people couldn’t withstand it for a long time.

“There’s less than three kilometers left!”

Carl said.

“Captain, when are we going to kill this Snow Bear?”

One of Carl’s subordinates asked.

“A little further ahead!”

Carl considered the distance and said this.

After all, after killing the Snow Bear, to cover up and create traces, they would need a lot of Snow Bear blood and make themselves look disheveled.

Of course, the most important thing was that they definitely couldn’t use this iron cage cart again, and it had to be destroyed.

So, Carl planned to kill the Snow Bear when they were a bit closer.

About two kilometers was the most ideal location for Carl in his mind.

“This is the spot!”

Carl said as he stopped.

Then, immediately, one of the three subordinates opened the iron cage. Carl stepped into the cage and drew his Sword—in fact, Carl thought it didn’t matter who killed this Snow Bear, but for greater credibility, it was obviously better if a real Knight like him killed it.

Ah!

A sudden scream made Carl stop raising his sword. He turned his head to look.

He saw that one of his subordinates had fallen to the ground, with a throwing knife inserted into the back of his neck.