Chapter 153: Takeover (Part 1)

Just as the remaining three people in the room stepped onto the stairs, one in front and two behind, Dean’s leaping figure appeared, and that low shout became incredibly clear.

“Hey!”

The Grand Knight walking at the front had no intention of dodging. He waved the Longsword in his hand and went straight to meet him, while the two sentries behind him, who were close to Knight-rank, temporarily stopped advancing and watched with their swords drawn.

Clang!

The two Longswords slammed into each other, and the clear sound of metal clashing traveled far away.

“Ha, a guy looking for death!”

Feeling the force coming from the Longsword, the Grand Knight could not help but smile contemptuously.

Through the clash of the Longswords, he could clearly sense that although Dean’s Strength far exceeded the Knight-rank, there was still a certain gap compared to the Grand Knight-rank. Moreover, Dean had leaped down from above, incorporating his body weight into his force, but even so, his Strength still did not surpass him.

Such an opponent was obviously easy for this Grand Knight to deal with.

Therefore, he was filled with contempt.

However, the next moment, that contempt was replaced by horror.

Flames, seemingly endless redness, spewed unspeakable heat and rushed out from that Longsword with the scent of death—

Boom!

The entire stairwell was engulfed by the Flame.

[Attacking…]

[Dragon Flame Breath Lv2 performing special attack check…]

[Target flame resistance check failed…]

[Target takes 100% special attack]

Three consecutive prompts on the character panel signaled the result of Dean’s [Dragon Swordsmanship·Dragon Flame Breath].

In fact, to maximize the power of [Dragon Flame Breath], Dean specifically chose this battlefield—a staircase that could only accommodate two people going up and down at the same time. What could be more suitable for the characteristics of [Dragon Flame Breath] than such a position?

Of course, if not for the support of [Military Swordsmanship (Goth)], which brought Dean’s Strength close to that of a Grand Knight, and the fact that he was leaping from high to low, making this proximity infinitely close, Dean would absolutely not have chosen such a fighting method.

After all, if the difference in Strength was too great, aside from being directly blown away and injured, there was simply no other possibility.

As for activating [Dragon Flame Breath]?

That would be even more impossible.

What’s more, even if it were activated, given the power conversion mode of [Dragon Flame Breath], it would absolutely not achieve the effect before his eyes—

The two sentries close to Knight-rank merely let out a scream before falling to the ground, gradually turning into charred coal in the house ignited by [Dragon Flame Breath].

Although the indirectly ignited flames were no longer Magic flames, they still retained the most basic characteristic of fire: burning.

As for the other Grand Knight?

He tried hard to extinguish the flames on his body, but the unique power conversion mode of [Dragon Flame Breath] made his efforts insufficient. The sensation, as if swords were cutting directly into his body, caused his injuries to worsen rapidly.

“Ahhh!!”

Amidst the howls of pain, the Grand Knight, still burning with Flame, madly rushed toward Dean on the stairs. Clearly, unable to dispel the damage caused by the flames on his body, he intended to perish together.

Whoosh!

A sound of joyful beating rang out in Dean’s palm.

A fireball equivalent to 100% of his own attack power, with a diameter of five inches, appeared in Dean’s palm, and then was thrown out—

Bang!

Amidst a dull sound, the fireball directly hit the charging Grand Knight.

Suddenly, the Grand Knight stumbled, then fell to his knees amidst even more intense burning.

Finally, he collapsed inside, motionless.

Undoubtedly, with Dean’s attributes now close to a Grand Knight in all aspects, further boosted by support, and then converted into Magic flame damage, the combined total of 230% attack power was poured entirely onto an unprepared Grand Knight. The opponent’s fate was naturally sealed.

The Talent representing ‘Flame’ could be ranked among the upper echelons of Knight Talents, close to the top, naturally not without reason.

In the face of such an attack method, where lack of resistance meant taking the full blow, the characteristics of ‘Flame’ were displayed to the fullest.

Of course, without those Magic resistance items, ‘Flame’ would certainly be able to rank at the very top of Knight Talents.

[XP+5]

[XP+5]

[XP+100]

Three experience orbs merged into Dean’s body, bringing three notifications. Added to the 10 XP obtained earlier, Dean’s total experience at this moment reached 171 points.

This was obviously enough for him to improve another applied Skill or two basic Skills.

However, in this house burning with Flame, it was not appropriate—

Dean had already clearly heard the noise coming from around him. Obviously, those Commoners had been attracted by the wailing and the light of the Flame in the night.

And the patrol guards should be arriving soon.

Dean did not turn and run toward the second floor. As he ran, fireballs kept appearing in his hand. He selected the most easily ignited spots and threw them out one by one.

Therefore, when Dean reached the balcony, and his Energy value was only 0.2 left, the entire house had already plunged into a sea of fire.

Glancing at the Commoners around the house who had started fighting the fire, Dean chose a connected roof where no one was present, leaped straight over, and then, after a few flashes, disappeared into the night.

…

After returning to his residence, Zimo did not drink a cup of honey mead as usual and quickly go to sleep. Although he was wearing pajamas, he paced back and forth around his bed, showing no intention of sleeping at all.

After all, the scene of meeting Dean kept spinning in Zimo’s mind.

Similarly, the orders regarding Madel also began to surface in his memory.

Like incompatible natural enemies, they churned in Zimo’s mind, making Zimo, who was already irritable, feel even more uncomfortable.

Zimo knew very well that what Dean had said earlier was not wrong.

He was now a discarded piece!

Once the worst-case scenario occurred, Madel would definitely throw him out to quell Marquis Vauban’s anger, and incidentally divert this Lord Marquis’s attention, buying more opportunities for the other party’s departure.

Zimo was naturally unwilling to accept such a result.

However, as a Spy for Goth, even if he was unwilling, he had to do it.

Because, once any mistake occurred, it would not just be him who died; his parents, wife, and children far away in Goth would all perish.

However, Dean’s appearance gave him a glimmer of hope—facing the hope of survival, even if it was just a sliver, no one would give up.

Undoubtedly, obeying Dean, who was of a higher rank than Madel, did not count as disobeying orders.

Of course, as a Spy, Zimo would not simply trust the other party’s one or two sentences and hand over his real bargaining chips.

He needed a fact. A fact spoken from Dean’s mouth, and moreover, a fact that needed to be proven.

Facing survival, his heart urgently hoped that such a fact would appear quickly.

However, thinking of the armed forces around Madel, Zimo sighed repeatedly—apart from the subordinates of Marquis Vauban, Zimo could hardly imagine who else in Vauban County could threaten Madel.

The previous irritability and the current dilemma.

Suddenly, Zimo forcefully grabbed the wine bottle by the bed, opened his mouth, and gulped down more than half of the bottle.

The cold liquid went down his throat, but more of it splashed onto Zimo’s pajamas from the corners of his mouth.

“Hah, hah…”

When the liquid in the bottle was completely gone, Zimo panted heavily, and the wine bottle in his hand was thrown to a corner of the room.

Just as the bottle was about to hit the ground and shatter, a gloved hand appeared there and caught the bottle steadily.

“M-My Lord!”

Zimo looked at Dean, who appeared there in disguise, and subconsciously called out.

“If your performance is merely this, I highly doubt what your value really is!”

Dean said slowly in his altered voice, while walking toward the bedside table with the bottle.

“In the face of life and death, how many people can be without fear?”

Zimo smiled helplessly and sat on the bed with a look of dejection.

“I told you, I will give you a new choice!”

After placing the bottle, Dean turned around. His eyes hidden under the hood looked at Zimo. The latter was slightly stunned, and his alcohol-affected brain finally caught up. He asked in a trembling voice: “M-My Lord, you, you…”

“Even with the curfew, you should have the ability to find out what happened in the Lower District, right?”

Dean said this.

Suddenly, Zimo, who was sitting dejectedly on the bed, shot up, and then rushed out of the room like a gust of wind.

“Lit, Lit, I need to know what just happened in the Lower District… Hurry, hurry, you damned fellow, get up for me! I need the news!”

Such voices rang out repeatedly in the corridor of the house.

And less than a quarter of an hour later, the news Zimo was waiting for appeared before him—

“In the Civilian District of the Lower District, a house caught fire. Although it was rescued in time and did not ignite other houses, all five people in the house where the fire occurred perished… However, the soldiers from the City Guard have sealed off the area, and I cannot get more information!”

The man named Lit reported the news he had gathered in detail.

“No, no, this is enough!”

Zimo waved his hand while standing up, then walked quickly toward his own room.

Standing at the door, he slightly tidied his appearance, and only then did Zimo push the door and enter.