The shells shattered one by one in the collision, and the ropes of the dreamcatcher hanging on the eaves began to turn black and shrunk, as if they had been corroded by some kind of strong acid. Lothar has lost count of how many times she's been knocked down and how many times she's gotten up. Maybe hundreds, maybe just a few times, but these few times feel like hundreds of times. It was a hopeless battle, and the Count was well aware of it. The plan to take the networm had failed, and the tomahawk in his hand could indeed deal damage to the enemy, but only to do damage, and the witch hunting knife was not a weapon forged to fight the demons, it could not prevent new ugly limbs from growing from the wounds, nor could it launch deadly attacks on the demons' vital points. After all, it's a question of whether or not there is something critical to such a thing. And compared to the demons, Lothar's body is already full of vital points.

The left hand, which has been broken. Although his right arm could barely hold a tomahawk, the feeling of a cracked bone reminded Lothar that his every movement could cause his arm bone to pop out of his flesh due to misalignment. Also broken were his ribs, and the Count couldn't say exactly how many, but there must be more than one. He could only hope for now that the location of the broken rib was not too fatal and not stabbed into his internal organs as he dodged. The only good news is that Lothar's legs are intact so far, and thanks to them, the slightest mistake in his speed and footsteps will cause the demon's attack to collapse the already powerful body on the spot.

"Ahh This was not a good sign, Lothar knew how dangerous childbirth could be, and in his mind, all births should be accompanied by doctors and maids. Although the Earl also knew that more ordinary families did not have such conditions when pregnant women gave birth, even so, the news that a certain noble lady had died in childbirth would spread among the nobles every once in a while. He didn't know what a normal delivery would be, but it was undoubtedly too long.

Don't let anything happen to you. The fury had long since receded in a continuous stream of blows, and no one could keep their anger high for long, not even those known as berserkers. This is why people in some places will eat poisonous mushrooms with hallucinogenic effects before fighting, because anger will sooner or later be consumed with the physical exertion of the person. So the key is what to do when the anger subsides. What is now sustaining Lothar to continue fighting is a sheer force of perseverance. It didn't come from some kind of belief or belief, because in fact he couldn't think and remember it very clearly now. This perseverance comes from daily training and almost instinctual dogma, and rigidity is not entirely bad at times.

It's just that this kind of perseverance that lasts for a while doesn't know how long it will last. Lothar's breathing was already staggered, his chest heaving erratically, and his throat sounding like an old, broken bellows. Even when battling the Sharktooth Siren in the Underground, Lothar didn't fall into such a situation. Of course, at this moment, the Count has not yet reached the point of desperation, or he thinks that he still has the last hole card in his hand, which is death. As long as you can enter the state of the living dead that you once had in the hollow of the seabed, your physical strength, fighting spirit, and injuries will no longer be a problem. But the point is, who knows what will happen after this death. Admittedly, his agreement with his destiny is still valid. However, even the Lady of the Tides can abandon the Burning Waves Siren, who has served Him for so many years, why should the Lord of Destiny repeatedly accommodate him as a small mortal? If he chooses to die too recklessly, and only ends up not being able to resurrect, then it is really over.

"Boom!" the moray eel's body slammed to the ground with a dull thud, and several shells shattered under the force. There are not many shells left. "It's close at hand. "It's ours!" "I'm going to eat that woman with me, I haven't eaten a pregnant woman yet!" said the demon heads excitedly, no one on this beach could stop them, and in this dawn nothing outside of this beach could come near it. Heartless Bay, there is no second witch hunting knife.

"Ahh "Boom!" the palm soaked in his own blood slipped at the moment of force, and the blade of the axe slid away from the demon's flesh, causing the Count to crash headlong into the monster's body and then bounce off and fall. Lothar's right hand took on a twisted shape, the crack in his bone finally broke off completely, and the Fool's Justice broke out and fell into the sand a few steps away.

It's over. Lothar knew about it. He had used all the means and tried all he could. But after all, he was a mortal, not a mythical half-human, half-god hero, not a wizard with mysterious powers, no god whispering in his ear the way to victory, and no spirit of nature standing up for him. All he could rely on was the tomahawk in his hand. Now, too, the tomahawk has left him. Weak, unwilling, Lothar shook her head and roared wildly, trying to attract the attention of the moray eels, even if only one noticed, maybe the networms would be safe for a while. But demons are cruel, their cruelty lies in the torture of people, and after Lothar's left arm was broken, those monsters stopped attacking him, which was deliberate.

In the flickering of his gaze, Lothar suddenly saw something falling on the sand near his eyes, and he narrowed his eyes slightly to see that it was a whistle, which seemed to be what Sach had given him earlier. The whistle was made of what looked like bone, with words and symbols carved into it that he couldn't read. The Count didn't think the whistle would do much of a thing, but perhaps the sound it made would attract the attention of the demons more than shouting. So he used his last strength to move his body, stuck out his tongue and took the whistle into his mouth with difficulty, and then blew all the remaining air in his lungs!

“！”

There was no sound, maybe it was broken. Lothar thought subconsciously. A massive black shadow leaped over him, crashing into the already fragile barrier. Eventually, one of the last three shells shattered, and the entire barrier crumbled. The demon laughed, ready to enjoy its long-awaited meal. But at this moment, a huge shadow like a castle rushed from the direction of the sea, and slammed straight into the main trunk of the demon! The moray eel, which had already pointed its large mouth at the roof, was struck down by the force that burst in, and the distance less than three steps from the hut became an insurmountable chasm.

"No!"