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Chapter 68: Fla Sword

The adventurers' reactions were all very quick.

Even though most of them had already imrsed themselves in dreams deep in the aroma of wine.

When I rushed out the door with the halfling, the rooms on both sides of the corridor also rang with countless sounds of clothing rubbing and tal colliding.

The sword hilt in my hand grew increasingly hot, and along with it my heartbeat also accelerated.

The inexplicable sense of urgency welling up in my heart made my attention at this mont beco exceptionally focused.

My gaze swept across the empty corridor, capturing the hidden clues within;

The wooden sword swung lightly before as I carefully felt the temperature changes in the hilt.

Suddenly froze.

My gaze stopped on a room door in the middle of the corridor facing south, incredibly silent amid the commotion.

"This is... Jeff's room?"

I clearly rembered that last night he, like , had basically drunk nothing, and when we parted his face showed no signs of drunkenness at all.

And with the qualities he'd displayed these past two days on the road, facing my warning, he absolutely couldn't be so careless as now.

Sothing's wrong!

My thoughts only took an instant. My legs had already begun moving the mont my gaze paused.

Without hesitation.

"Bang!"

Wood splinters flew!

Under the impact of vigorous force, the door was violently kicked open!

The night was deep. The only light source in the entire room was the oil lamp with feeble flas at the bedside.

But precisely because of this, I saw, on the bed, caravan captain Jeff's face completely drained of blood and filled with pain.

As if entangled in nightmares, his pale lips pressed into a line, eyes tightly closed, sweat practically soaking the pillow beneath his neck.

And even more horrifying.

Jeff's left leg was lifted high by a hand extending from the darkness.

tatarsals, fibula and tibia...

Pale white bones emitting cold light silently separated from flesh and blood, slowly spreading upward, crossing the knee and climbing the thigh.

Standing beside the bed was a man with a thin, haggard fra.

He wore a shabby scale armor covered in dirt and dust. His left hand held Jeff's leg bone, his right hand clutched a short knife where rust was clearly visible.

Most eye-catching were his dead gray eyes almost completely filled with whites, and his pale, greenish skin like rotten wood, not resembling a living person.

The rather impactful scene before my eyes made instantly recall what the adventurers at the dinner table had ntioned today—the strange incidents recently occurring in Karanfor.

My expression darkened accordingly.

The blade lifted slightly, my palm scalding hot.

Thick leather boots suddenly landed on the wooden floor. Fine dust splashed up.

Impassioned, high-pitched music from strings rang out from behind at so unknown ti.

The next second, I charged straight at him.

Always hiding in concealnt, many tis even the deceased themselves hadn't noticed before their skeletons were stripped away, dying in their sleep.

The thin man obviously hadn't anticipated that tonight, taking advantage of the heavy rain and dark clouds, what should have been a perfect operation.

Would be so abruptly discovered by the youth before him.

The short sword in his hand stained with iron rust forcefully cut. Jeff's left shin from the knee down was severed at the root.

Strangely, although the blade was dull and blunt, the process of cutting bone and flesh was extrely smooth.

The wound was incredibly smooth, as if so invisible force attached to it, even blocking blood from flowing out.

On the bed, Jeff with his shin severed, his expression was still that sa silent painful struggle, as if he couldn't sense the changes occurring to his body at all.

At the sa ti, I, rapidly charging forward amid the stirring music, had already brought the enemy into my attack range.

"Bang!"

My right leg suddenly stepped forward, stomping a small pit in the floor beneath.

Lifting the sword, twisting my wrist.

Not the slightest intention of holding back.

From the start, full power.

【Whirlwind Slash】

Whoosh—

What rang in my ears was the wooden sword's breaking-air whistle, more brief and dense than tal.

The temperature that surged due to approaching the target made countless tiny water droplets condense in the air around the sword body.

As if returning to Mist Forest, stirring the fog.

The dark brown sword body transford into an arcing black light,

Whistling past!

Having just cut off Jeff's shin, left hand still holding the leg bone, the thin man could only desperately hold the weapon in his hand before him.

"Clang!"

Sparks scattered.

A small section of rusted sword spun and embedded itself in the ceiling.

The wooden sword 【Qingsong】, which at ordinary tis only seed like an ordinary weapon, facing this evil creature stained with the power of undeath before my eyes, finally displayed it as a "blue" quality weapon.

The scalding blade rolling with water mist, at the instant it touched that rusted tal, suddenly burst forth fiery red blazing light at the edges.

Absolutely no possibility of blocking!

The rusted sword was cut through. The surface worn but still possessing a tal interior scale armor also fundantally lacked the ability to resist.

Extrely contrasting, the dark brown wooden sword flickering with fiery red blazing light smoothly cut into the tal scale armor's depths like cutting tofu.

Through the power transmitted from the scalding sword hilt in my hand, I could clearly feel the blade's smoothness after an instant's resistance.

Sizzle—

"Ahhhhh!"

Completely not having anticipated the power possessed by the wooden sword 【Qingsong】.

An expression of disbelief appeared on the thin man's face.

Imdiately, the violent white smoke rising from the wound as if burning made him scream in agony.

Discovering the sword tip had already penetrated deep into the other party's body, not being rigid, I flexibly changed my posture.

My hands tightly gripping the sword hilt twisted. My body leaned forward sideways.

In an instant, I changed the original slashing posture to a thrust convenient for frontal force.

Exerting force in my hands, about to completely pierce through the chest of this man with skin pale and green like a corpse.

But unexpectedly, facing the intense burning pain, he still retained a trace of sanity.

Screaming in agony, lips opening and closing, he spat out a mass of grayish-white dense fog.

As if mixed with so sinister, deep light, making the already dim light in the room even darker.

Swaying and wavering, it revealed a dangerous aura.

Trailing a slender smoke tail, it charged straight at my face!

My force instantly stopped. I halted my steps.

Instinctively withdrawing the wooden sword from his body, toward that mass of fog-light,

Slashing upward.

"Whooom."

As if encountering so natural enemy, the fog instantly collapsed under the blazing light's burning of the wooden sword.

Flicking the sword body, countless fine smoke particles dissipated into the air.

The thin man's sudden counterattack made my offensive pause.

Knowing he wasn't a match.

When I looked over again, he'd already fled to the window.

Behind rang the adventurers' hurried approaching footsteps.

The man glanced back at everyone again, clutching the wound at his chest, leaping down with a jump.

I naturally had no reason to let him escape. Plus the adventurers beside had also already reached the room.

Several people each held swords vigilantly, quickly chasing to the window.

But only saw a patch of darkness bathed in drizzling rain.

At the distant horizon, dawn seed to be breaking, reflecting a little dim light.

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