In his mind, Lynn imagined that if he were to search the cabinet without the other two knowing, they could easily launch a sudden attack from behind the cover of clothing. If the attack failed, they could jump out of the window to escape.
This was undoubtedly the best hiding spot in the entire room!
Realizing this, Lynn didn't hesitate for a mont. Without any warning, he drew his sword.
The blade slid out of the scabbard, creating a soft, resonant hum in the room.
In just an instant, the silvery blade sliced through the wooden cabinet as if it were cutting through butter, and the closed cabinet doors fell apart.
Wood splinters and torn fabric filled the air, but the expected gush of blood did not follow.
Furrowing his brows, Lynn was sowhat surprised. Had he made a mistake in his judgnt? Was their target simply careless and left these things in the room?
André, who was standing nearby, was startled by Lynn's sudden unsheathing of his sword. He was about to mock Lynn for his erroneous judgnt when, from the narrow gap between the bookshelf and the wall, a short sword suddenly extended out of the darkness, heading straight for André's neck!
The one launching the attack was Lynn.
As soon as Lynn saw the coins and manuscripts on the table, he knew he couldn't avoid this confrontation.
The narrow gap he had hidden in offered no cover at all. He relied solely on shadows and visual distortion to remain hidden. It was undoubtedly a very dangerous place, but Lynn and André had arrived too quickly. They were still reeling from their ti travel experience, and Lynn's mind was in turmoil, leaving him no ti to find a better hiding place or set up a proper ambush. He hadn't even had ti to pick up the dropped parchnt scrolls on the floor.
If the two of them discovered that there was no one in the cabinet and started searching the room carefully, they would quickly find him. So, Lynn acted without hesitation.
Considering the lethality of the situation, Lynn refrained from using his partially mastered and improved "Frostblade." The short sword he wielded was much more reliable within arm's reach.
The mont André saw the splintered wood flying and relaxed his guard, a strong sense of impending danger washed over him.
Before joining the Witch Hunters, André had been a renowned rcenary, constantly teetering on the edge between life and death. He was intimately familiar with this deeply ingrained feeling. It had saved him once again. Just as the sharp short sword was about to descend, André managed to twist his body and narrowly avoid a grueso fate of decapitation.
However, Lynn's surprise attack had been lightning fast, and even though André had made an evasive move, he couldn't avoid it entirely. The sharp short sword left a deep gash on his neck.
Crimson blood flowed from the wound, and André, feeling a mixture of shock and anger, was well aware that he had narrowly escaped death.
"You bastard!" André shouted, his rage surging. He swung his longsword downward, intending to cut Lynn in half.
His strike was swift and heavy, and Lynn barely had ti to react. Nevertheless, his body instinctively made a parrying motion, and the clash of their blades filled the room.
Before this, Lynn had never wielded a sword to harm another person, but thanks to the previous owner, Carl, he had a well-trained muscle mory.
It was Carl's impressive swordsmanship that had deterred the unfriendly neighbors in the slums.
However, this ti, Lynn was up against a Witch Hunter who was not lacking in training. André, empowered by the Elixir of Divinity, possessed abilities far beyond the ordinary. He was a rciless opponent.
André's swordsmanship was unorthodox but ruthlessly efficient. In just three clashes, Lynn's wrist was sore, and he could barely hold onto the short sword.
"Die!" André roared, lifting his longsword to push away Lynn's short sword, and with his left hand, he reached for Lynn's throat.
Lynn, gasping for breath, his face turning red, quickly lost consciousness.
Warning, Covenant target under severe life threat. In accordance with Federal Intelligence Managent Act, Article 37, the nearest law enforcent personnel will be automatically contacted...
The sudden reminder in his mind pulled Lynn's consciousness back from the abyss of despair, filling him with a glimr of hope.
Warning... no signal... Warning... not connected to the network... Please proceed to the nearest elevated location to search for satellite signals and call for federal assistance promptly...
Lynn muttered a curse under his breath. He had forgotten that he had already crossed over and couldn't be certain if he was in the sa universe anymore.
Damn it! He should have saved the money he used to buy a new spaceship and upgraded its intelligence. How was he going to find a satellite signal now?
Even if he could, did he expect federal officers to fly over to rescue him?
But at this mont, Lynn had no ti for regrets. The hand tightening around his neck was like a death grip, slowly but relentlessly choking the life out of him.
Warning... no signal. Initiate ergency protocol. Highest probability of survival analysis. In accordance with the user agreent, connect to the neural network...
The prompt in his mind beca more urgent, but Lynn couldn't hear it anymore. He felt as though his brain had exploded, and his soul seed to detach from his body, examining the world in a strange state.
Lynn's dispersed ntal power expanded like ripples in water, and his perception of the elents beca clearer...
...
"Brunette, black eyes, looks like we've got the right person." Seeing André easily subduing their target, Blaine relaxed his grip on his sword and turned his attention to Lynn.
"You're quite capable, little mouse. If you're so good at hiding, why not cut off a hand and a leg..." André sneered.
Whether it was an illusion or not, he felt like he was struggling to breathe, and his anger continued to rise.
If it weren't for the last-minute realization that a live person was worth more than a dead one, André would have wanted to kill Lynn imdiately.
Blaine, on the other hand, was unfazed by his companion's cruel suggestion and casually chid in, "Just cut off a hand; otherwise, you'll have to carry him back yourself. Rember to be quick and make sure he doesn't bleed out on the way."
With his back turned to Blaine, André had no ti to respond. His face turned purple, and the longsword he held in his left hand crashed heavily to the ground. His labored breathing, previously irregular, had now beco increasingly rapid. He resembled a fish out of water, with his heart and lungs on the verge of bursting.
Ten years ago, when he was swallowed by a massive vortex in the Sea of Mist, André had experienced this suffocating near-death feeling. Breathing was nothing more than a luxury, and if he hadn't been exceptionally lucky, he might have already been buried at the bottom of the sea.
But this ti, he wasn't underwater, and Lynn's recent attack had clearly not severed his windpipe.
André gasped for air, but his condition showed no improvent. Instead, it worsened, and his grey eyes seed on the brink of popping out of their sockets.
What kind of magic was this? André imdiately realized that the young wizard's apprentice in front of him was up to sothing, but the overwhelming suffocation response had caused him to miss the opportunity to counterattack. The hand gripping Lynn's neck grew weaker.
At the sa mont, Lynn, with his head hanging low, suddenly made a move. His tightly shut eyes snapped open, and simultaneously, the oxygen in the surrounding air was instantly vacuud away. A short sword thrust upward, piercing André's throat from below!
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