How could Shermans forget these eyes, those eyes that rolled like a blazing storm as if they were eternal day.

"The Witcher......

For a moment it seemed as if it were back in the seemingly never-ending night, burning anger and unquenchable despair, Shermans immediately pulled the trigger, and heavy gun smoke rose, accompanied by a brief flash of fire, and lead bullets were fired from the muzzle of the gun.

The pungent smoke was a little unbearable for Shermans and obscured his vision.

He wasn't a warrior, he was just an ordinary man with fanatical beliefs, he was old, he didn't have a guard by his side, and all he had in his hand was a backward flintlock pistol, not to mention that Shermans had already fired, this damn weapon was extremely troublesome to reload, and he had no chance to fire a second shot at such a close distance facing the witcher.

Shermans was suddenly annoyed and regretful, and Jager had advised himself that he should change to a more advanced pistol, although he was his own bodyguard and would ensure his safety, but it was inevitable that some sudden situations would arise.

But Shermans refused them, and he couldn't tell what it was like, Shermans just didn't want to give up this weapon, and despite all its disadvantages, he sometimes felt that it was just like himself, an old thing, out of place in this new era.

The next moment the sharp spiked sword pierced through the rising smoke, and the witcher arrived with his sword, he was extremely light, and Shermans was already dazed, and the shot just now did not hit him at all.

Looking at the valiant witcher, for a moment Shermans thought he was back in the cathedral of St. Nalo, where he was reciting the sacred prayer under the protection of the witchers.

The sharp pain pulled Shermans back into his mind, and the spike sword slashed his arm, causing him to release the flintlock pistol in his hand, as if he didn't want to kill himself, or the sword would go straight through his chest.

"The Witcher...... How did you end up here. ”

Shermans took a deep breath, as a noble cardinal, a believer protected by everyone, he had not felt the so-called pain for too long, so violently, and he felt that he was alive, truly alive.

The witcher was clearly not prepared to answer Shermans's words, he did not continue to attack, but just looked at him coldly.

"Is it a purification mechanism......

Shermans whispered that there was only one situation when the witchers were here, and that the Purifier had given up working with the exiles in favor of the Evangelical Church, and that he was undoubtedly the best bargaining chip to use in exchange for profit.

"No...... I won't take it. ”

Shermans said as he reached for the pen on the table.

Each person is bound by his own will, obeys the iron rules he has set for himself, and can give his life for it.

The same is true of Shermans, who can endure exile and Migar's crazy plans, but the only thing he cannot endure is the man under the crown, and he will never allow a man like Seny Lothair to become pope, and he will never fall into his hands.

Strong-willed, but his body was decrepit, and before Shermans could plunge the pen into his throat, he was stopped by a punch from the witcher, tormenting him with pain and writhing weakly on the ground.

He held his notes, twitching in the candlelight, and the cardinal, who was so embarrassed, that there were bursts of laughter, as if the witchers were laughing at him.

Inevitably sad and depressed, the witcher mentioned Shermans and was about to take him away, but at this moment another pair of blazing white pupils lit up in the darkness, Shermans saw it, and then the white sword light covered his vision.

Hidden in the darkness was more than one witcher, who struck like thunder, swift and deadly.

The slender steel pierced through the heart of the witcher, and before the blade arrived, the witcher felt the surging killing intent, and the attacker did not hide his intentions at all, he was confident that he could kill himself perfectly with this blow.

The demon hunter doesn't care, he is a demon hunter, there is a powerful secret blood surging in his body, he is already an extraordinary existence, how can the power of mortals shake him?

After the formation of the Protestant Order, many witchers had such emotions, possessed extraordinary powers, and felt proud that they were no longer human, but should be higher beings.

But to the Witcher's expectations, the opponent's speed was far beyond his expectations, and the Witcher tried to turn around and deflect the blade from the spot, but this trick could not escape the attacker's gaze, and he stabbed it accurately, and the blade stabbed out of the witcher's chest with bright red.

The witcher let go of Shermans, and he tried to return the fire, but another great force came from behind his chest, followed by a dull gunshot, and the shattered projectiles slammed into the flesh with poisonous mercury, sending a mist of blood in front of the hunter's chest.

"No silver bolts?"

The voice of doubt sounded, Lorenzo didn't give the witcher any chance to resist at all, the staff sword remained in his body, Lorenzo shook his hand vigorously, and then after a cold light, the folding knife extended out, and the head of the knife attached to the holy silver slashed down hard.

Cutting through the flesh and bones, perhaps with the blessing of secret blood, Lorenzo failed to cut his arm directly, but at this moment he also clearly felt that his folding knife was unobstructed and did not touch any metal.

The silver bolt is a restriction on the witcher, but to a certain extent, it is also a protection for the witcher, and the strong holy silver will effectively protect the internal organs and other vital organs, but the witcher in front of him does not have these.

A few thoughts swirled quickly through his mind, and Lorenzo swung his knife again and continued to seriously injure his enemies, at which point the witcher also struggled to resist, his back to Lorenzo, and then the blazing fireworks ignited from the wound.

This is not a simple pure flame, Lorenzo did not think that his pure flame could burn into such a turbulent appearance in just a few seconds, the fireworks rose several meters, directly igniting all the combustibles around it, and then the fireworks covered the body of the witcher, and the sword began to turn red in this heat.

Mighty Michael.

Lorenzo didn't have time to think about it, and kicked Shermans away, he still had a lot to ask the old fellow, he didn't want him to die so inexplicably.

Shermans was also a little confused, he didn't even have time to feel the pain, he could only hold his notes tightly, if he was going to die, at least he had to keep this note, no matter who the successor was, he would one day be able to lift the hazy veil of the world.

But other than that, the feeling at the moment is actually a little strange, and he can't say it.

Death came knocking on the door, and it was obvious that someone jumped in through the window and shot at the door, although Shermans didn't know his purpose, but it felt like the Grim Reaper asked to wait before Lorenzo could fix the matter.

Lorenzo didn't think of Shermans', he just felt like he was in bigger trouble.

Soon after Lorenzo infiltrated, he saw these witchers, they broke in directly and generously from the front, and with the blessing of the secret blood, the Shermans guards were completely defenseless, and they were easily killed like cutting melons and vegetables.

The Old Order had been completely destroyed after Advent Night, and even the surviving witchers like Lorenzo were mostly hiding in the corners of the world, enjoying the hard-won peace, so the identities of these witchers in front of him were well confirmed.

They were Protestant witchers, as evidenced by their fighting methods that were completely inconsistent with Lorenzo's knowledge, and the lack of silver bolts in their bodies.

Sure enough, the damage caused by Advent Night to the Evangelical Church has not recovered until now, and these witchers seem to be powerful, but compared to Lorenzo, who was born in the old order, they are still far behind.

Lorenzo knew very well what it meant that there was no silver bolt, as long as the witcher wanted to, his demonization could be carried out without restrictions, it would be a more terrifying existence than ordinary demons, and the best way to deal with him was to make it powerless in an instant, and it was too late to awaken the secret blood...... That is, death.

In the blazing fireworks, Lorenzo did not back down, but continued to advance, and continued to submerge the staff and sword into the body of the witcher, and at the same time, the shotgun on his back fired again, and countless projectiles entered the flesh and blood.

He tried to turn, but the red-hot sword was twisted by his body, and the secret blood continued to rise, and the entire room was covered in burning fire, and Lorenzo's vision was only the glow of the burning fire, and the feeling of suffocation followed.

"Be honest with me!"

Lorenzo cursed and pulled out the folding knife that had been stuck in the flesh.

Although the Demon Hunter has far more strength than ordinary people with the blessing of the secret blood, he still has a weakness, just like a demon, he will die after being pierced through the heart and severed in the head.

Lorenzo's sneak attack pierced the heart of the witcher with precision, and now he was able to move entirely by relying on the terrifying power of the secret blood, which brought the witcher's body to an inhuman state, and at the same time, the powerful life force began to heal the heart, and he could recover with time.

This is the trouble for the witchers and even the demons, cutting off their heads, they can still continue to fight with instinct, and pierce the heart, and with the persistence of the will, they can gradually recover.

Lorenzo twisted his red-hot sword vigorously, expanding the wound that had not yet healed, choking the fragile flesh and flesh, and then the folding knife slashed down fiercely, slashing hard at his neck.

The witcher was difficult to bargain, Lorenzo's fierce combo caught him off guard, under the threat of death, he could only expand his power to the maximum, in an instant Lorenzo's vision turned pure white, the dazzling light pierced him and he couldn't help but close his eyes, the folding knife began to burn red and melt, and the clothes also burned out of thin air.

In an instant, it turned into a burning hell.

A dull sound sounded, and then sporadic projectiles entered Lorenzo's own body, so close, the ammunition carried by Lorenzo also detonated due to the high temperature, Lorenzo gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and according to his previous judgment, he slashed the folding knife hard.

The raging fire stalled, then stopped, then collapsed, and Lorenzo slowly opened his eyes, the incomprehensible sun had dissipated, and in front of him was a kneeling headless corpse.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, this is the power of Michael's faction, the most directly lethal among the witchers, the extreme temperature, it is simply the day walking in the world, fortunately, Lorenzo's sneak attack was successful, and the follow-up attack was decisive enough, otherwise once his temperature rises to the extreme, the steel will be melted at the moment of contact.

Looking at the charred corpse, the dry and carbonized body crumbling, and the flesh and blood squirming tenaciously underneath, Lorenzo suddenly had a strange illusion, and he couldn't help but think of lacquer antimony, this alchemical product also has similar properties, just a little bit, can release powerful light and heat.

Turning slowly, Lorenzo looked at Shermans, who was lying to the side, the old man was also embarrassed at the moment, his holy robe was torn by the heat, and his body had multiple burns and blisters all over it, but even then he still held his notes and looked at Lorenzo in horror.

"Cardinal Shermans, long time no see. ”

The smoke cleared, and Lorenzo took out a new folding knife from under his coat, but he had enough weapons with him before this departure, and the cold glow reflected Shermans's face.

Lorenzo carefully observed Shermans's expression, the horror on his face gradually disappeared, followed by a more complex expression, Shermans seemed to be a little unable to believe what he was seeing at this moment, choked on the smoke, Shermans coughed vigorously a few times, and then asked in an uncertain tone.

"Medanzo ......"

The old voice sounded, and Lorenzo had an ugly smile on his face, a look of helplessness.

Sure enough, this was the result, although it had been expected, but it was true, Lorenzo was still a little difficult to accept, but now he didn't have time to discuss it with Shermans, he picked up Shermans, picked up the witcher's spike sword, and kicked open the charred door.

There are other witchers in the manor, looking for Shermans's whereabouts like hungry wolves.

Lorenzo was able to kill the witcher just now so quickly because of his sneak attack and enough experience, in essence, he was no different from other witchers, once he fought, Lorenzo could only barely guarantee that he would not be killed, and he had no ability to protect another Shermans.

As he ran wildly, the sound of fighting came from all around, the burning fire covered the entire field of vision, the green grass also turned to ashes, the black snow drifted in the air, but then it was torn apart by the falling rain, and the lead-gray dark clouds appeared at the end of the sky, slowly approaching here.