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1040: Chapter 155 Demigods 1040: Chapter 155 Demigods The girls had been observing.

Since the first battle, they had been watching everyone’s fighting styles, positional choices, and coordination with comrades.

The girls discovered that by calmly observing the demigods’ battles, they could find many highlights to compensate for their own deficiencies.

The stage at which the girls were currently, urgently required them to compare and contrast their own experiences with those acquired from others.

One could say that the series of battles that had occurred along the road were very tily, delivering to the girls benefits that proved more effective than a year of grueling training.

The demigods fought with high efficiency and fluidity, their combat appearing like a splendid performance that was rich in spectacle, causing the onlookers to be involuntarily imrsed in it.

The first to capture Catherine’s eye was the short, stocky figure of the Dwarf Shielder, Conaida.

Shielders, similar to Guardian Knights, were the defensive bulwark of a team, capable of protecting team mbers from harm.

Specializing in defense, Shielders had more formidable defensive capabilities than Guardian Knights, but their sole flaw was the lack of high-speed movent skills, resulting in limited mobility to provide tily and effective support to other teammates.

This defect, inseparable from a Shielder clad in heavy armor and wielding a huge shield, was especially pronounced in complex terrains like dense forested mountain paths.

But Conaida was different; he perfectly circumvented this flaw.

The road here was still complicated, with uneven ground, roots and vines everywhere, and wild weeds flourishing wildly.

Even a normal professional’s movent speed would be reduced to a minimum on such terrain.

However, Conaida was not a normal professional—he was a demigod at the pinnacle of professionals, having mastered control over his power and physicality to the extre.

Whether defending or moving, he would not expend any superfluous effort.

Moving, his body stayed low, almost sliding across the ground.

With every step, he made minute adjustnts, keeping his center of gravity slightly ahead of his body, not only maintaining but actually using obstacles to slightly increase his speed with each stride.

However, Conaida’s tily defense against most attacks wasn’t just due to his way of moving.

Even with his movent, his speed couldn’t surpass that of an actual Charge skill, making it impossible to do what even Catherine, the knight, couldn’t do in the midst of a fierce battle.

But in real combat, he was always able to appear where he needed to be before the enemy attacked.

He had already started moving before the enemy launched their strike, always preempting them on their path of attack, without a single error or exception.

Catherine’s eyes sparkled with surprise.

In her observation, every movent on the battlefield was within Conaida’s grasp, including every enemy’s next action and every ally’s next move—completely within his calculations.

He knew which ally would be attacked by which enemy at which position and was able to offer support with ease.

To the knight girl, it was as if he had opened a door to a new world.

Catherine had occasionally fought in this manner before, but had never understood it so systematically and intuitively.

It was only after seeing Conaida’s defensive performance that the girl knew that if she could master this skill and combine it with her own speed, then her defense could be dramatically improved.

However, the girl also understood that although the skill seed simple, it required a vast amount of combat experience to support accurate judgnt, since correct anticipation was the basis of this defensive thod.

Not just Catherine, but Freya’s eyes shone with a similar excitent.

Though there were no Crystal Energy gunners or chanics among the Demigods, the Elf ranger Flare, and High Priest Alcne provided her with stellar examples of long-range combat.

Theoretically, a dense forest is a nightmare for all ranged professionals.

Nurous tree trunks obstruct the flight of arrows, the uneven ground makes it impossible for archers to move and change position, and the thick underbrush blocks their line of sight—hardly any archer would choose to fight in dense woods.

But Elves are an exception, especially a powerful Demigod ranger like Flare, who is an exception among exceptions.

In Freya’s eyes, Flare in her green dress danced gracefully through the forest.

Spinning out from behind a tree that served as cover, she shot several silent arrows in different directions, her body not stopping because of the shooting, but instead using the vibration of the bowstring to speed up her rotation and hide behind another tree.

Seconds later, Her Majesty had already appeared on a tree branch more than ten ters away, her arrows swiftly piercing the necks of several unprepared magical beasts.

When the remaining beasts looked up to find the attacker, Flare had long vanished without a trace, with only the slightly trembling treetops confirming that all they witnessed was not an illusion.

Each of Her Majesty’s attacks was a textbook shot, utilizing no special arrow techniques, yet these ordinary strikes each brought down a powerful enemy.

Freya saw Her Majesty as a machine of utmost precision, constantly in motion.

Every step she took was perfectly placed.

Facing attacks from enemies, she didn’t need Conaida’s coordinated defense, nor did she have any need to dodge, for she was never where the enemy expected, always beyond their reach.

Likewise, she didn’t wait for the mont to shoot or need to aim because whenever she drew her bow, her position was just right.

All she had to do was release her right hand, and the arrow would naturally hit the target and claim the enemy’s life.

Although also adept at long-range attacks, the Lizardman High Priest Alcne had a completely different battle style from Flare.

If Flare was like a forest breeze, ceaseless and elusive, penetrating every corner of the woods, then Alcne was like a rock in the swamp, immovable, regardless of the rain and marsh erosion.

The High Priest stood firmly in place, her javelin resting lightly on the ground.

Her yellow-green vertical pupils were half-open, like an immovable rock.

Whenever a magical beast approached her, all one could see was a flash of her javelin and the beast would stagger backward, floored, spraying blood, never to make another sound, while Alcne herself maintained her original posture, standing motionless.

When no beasts were near, she moved, and Freya couldn’t make out her reaction at all.

With just a flick of her hand, the javelin would disappear from her grasp, and mid-flight, it would split from one into tens, raining down like monsoon, giving several magical beasts no chance to escape, nailing them to the ground where they would claw futilely, devoid of the strength to stand again.

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