"At the original location of Green Cross, my lord." The militia said weakly: "They suddenly appeared, a group of women! Wearing armor, Mr. Marx thought they were survivors of some organization. Until they start attacking us! Master Mancini retreated with Monsieur Marx, and if it had not been for the sudden appearance of this child and his father, I am afraid I would not have had a chance to escape and ask for help......"

The young man supporting the militia raised his head proudly, looked at the black-haired and black-eyed demon hunter with curious eyes, pursed his lips, and did not speak.

"How is Mr. Marx's injury?" Knight Barthes anxiously asked, as a knight, he had never seen a leader like Marx, even if there was a glimmer of hope, he did not want Marx to have any accidents: "How many of them are there?" “

The militia bowed his head in shame: "I don't know, my lord, I didn't see how many of them there were, and the brothers thought there was no danger." Almost as soon as the other side attacked, we were scattered. I saw Mr. Marx being impaled in the abdomen by one of the women. “

Along the way, the corpses of the aberrant were almost everywhere, and everyone thought that the aberrant had been wiped out. The militiamen, including Knight Barth, let their guard down. After all, they are not professional fighters, but civilians who have been hastily trained and have gone to the battlefield.

The wounded militia cautiously looked at the wounded nuns everywhere and whispered, "My lord, the people who attacked us look about the same as their equipment. But it doesn't feel the same, they look a little bit fancy, it feels like ......"

The militiamen didn't know for a moment how to describe the enemy they encountered, and they looked like animal trainers who had escaped from an acrobatic troupe.

"Are there a lot of them who have grown extra limbs? Look, crazy, almost, irrational? Sister Silence, Selistein, walked up to the Demon Hunter and asked the militia in a less skillful way of speaking.

"Yes, that's right." The militia looked at Selistein, who was covered in blood, and there was a hint of pity in his eyes, and the reason why she was willing to stand up and respond to Mr. Marx's call to become a militia member of the People's Self-Protection Federation was because she did not want her sister to have to use weapons to protect herself one day.

Looking at the girl in front of him who was about the same age as his sister, but seemed to be used to being covered in blood, the militia felt that he had made the right choice!

The militiaman's gaze did not offend Sister Silent Celestein, in fact, as a close attendant of the Witch King, no one dared to look her in the eye for many years, let alone use such an emotion of pity! Celestial had mixed feelings about this.

The demon hunter looked around, the wounded all over the ground, making it look like some kind of field hospital. He looked at Richard Pastor Richard, as the local host, the church should also do something: "Lord Richard, can you please ask your people to take care of the wounded here, whether it is a nun or a witch, I don't think it will continue to bleed today, do the great Campas and his most fearless warriors agree?" “

The enthusiastic paladins behind Richard responded enthusiastically, and in their eyes, the Demon Hunter was simply the greatest warrior in the world!

Reverend Richard flicked the rest of his cigarette in the direction of the demon hunter, and made a vague gesture of counting gold coins at him. The demon hunter smiled slightly, and quietly pointed to the equipment called [Faith Armament] used by the Silent Nun on the ground, and also made a gesture of counting gold coins with his hand.

Richard slammed his fist on his palm, indicating his agreement, and the demon hunter nodded in satisfaction, and in an instant, two foxes, one big and one small, had completed a dirty deal, and the pure and fearless nuns were probably the biggest losers.

"Can you show us where they were attacked?" The demon hunter asked the boy who was holding the militia, and he saw a rough callus on the boy's hand, the marks of years of using the weapon. In contrast to this is the strong muscles of the boy's arms.

"Of course! I'll take you there! The boy replied calmly, "My name is Carl, maybe you don't remember." But my family and I owe you a favor! My dad stays there, and I'll take you back to him!" “

The young general named Karl leaned against the wall, lowered it gently, and then walked in the direction from which he came.

The Demon Hunter remembered the family he had met when he first entered the lower city. It's hard to imagine that this child, who looks mature and steady, once shot two crossbow arrows at himself, although the power is not great, but the young man's resolute heart can be seen. Unexpectedly, it was actually the two of them, and the demon hunter laughed.

"Be careful, it may be a ploy to divert the tiger from the mountain." The demon hunter left Li Yanlong and the knight Bart and his daughter, as well as the rest of the militia, and whispered: "Take care of our witches, if there is any change in the people of the church, leave the others alone, take the witches back to the camp!" “

Richard's paladins began to build improvised defenses around them, apparently considering the possibility of attack, while the priests began to bandage and treat the wounded.

Despite the nuns' complaints, Sister Silent Celestein's orders allowed them to twist their noses and accept the priest's help. Celestein stood beside the Demon Hunter with the Battle Nuns who could still fight, as well as all the Clerical Nuns.

"Today, the battle between us, is over." "But the nuns," said Celestein, "must be done alone, traitor. Traitors must die! Miser? Brigita, and the sisters she bewitched, will be purified in the divine flame! “

The Demon Hunter nodded in agreement, "I told you that we have a common enemy. ”

Young Carl is like the most seasoned hunter. In the ruins of the lower town, traverse the complex terrain and find the place where the battle took place before.

It was a crossroads, the battle was long over, and the corpse of a militiaman was hung on a pillar and swayed in the wind.

The dead militiaman, from the corners of his mouth to his cheeks, was slashed with a sharp knife, with an expression on his face like a clown's smile, and his arms were spread in the direction of the demon hunters, as if welcoming their arrival.

"You're late." The blood on his chest seemed to taunt everyone again.