Pain, incomparable pain. It is said that out of all the human suffering, excluding the mind and torture, the most profound pain is the pain that women suffer during childbirth. That's exactly the pain that the webworm is experiencing at this time. Unlike ordinary mothers, the mercenary at this time is in the middle of an enchantment that the witch has carefully crafted so that she can have a good rest. In this room, the networm is not disturbed by the outside world, which means that she cannot hear the roar of Lothar from outside the house. She could only lie on the bed and express what she was suffering with a cry of pain, and nothing else could comfort her, like a lonely boat floating in the sea, no matter how much she cried out, she could not be answered.

Helplessness, loneliness, these negative conditions together with pain catalyze fermentation, giving birth to an even worse mood, despair. In that maddening agony, the networm could no longer think, could no longer examine her condition, she could only think of death. Childbirth is intended to give birth to a new life, and it is an act of continuing vitality. But it is this behavior that brings a much greater risk of death than other threats of the same era. Isn't this a contradiction? Or is it that the world has never wanted to live, so it is preventing the reproduction of living things in this way? Or is it a sign that there is a certain connection between life and death, and that life cannot continue to exist without the awareness of death.

The networm's desperate cries became an accompaniment to a death fight on the beach. Lothar wasn't sure what his lover was going through, but he knew that her pain must have something to do with the monster in front of her. Coupled with what Kiri had whispered in his ear before, although the Count didn't understand why the ugly multi-headed moray eel had come to them, he knew that this was not the time to ask. He saw with his own eyes that the mountain monster was devoured by the monster, and he saw Sach frightened and mad. The witch-hunting knife in his hand emitted a heat slightly higher than his body temperature, which was a testament to the magical power of the enemies he faced.

But so what? Anything that threatens his last two relatives in the world, whether he is a dragon or a demon, can only be slashed by a knife. There is no room for compromise in this matter. For the second time in his life, Lothar clearly felt the roaring blood flow within his body, and the anger and power of this flow were even greater than the night he learned of his parents' death years ago.

"I want you dead!" the warrior roared, letting the boat quickly crash into the demon's thick torso by inertia and waves, and the whole person jumped up with this force, and the tomahawk in his hand slashed a terrible crack in the skin with cold scales from the bottom up!

"Quack!" the moray eels screamed in unison, the damage inflicted by the Fool's Justice being especially effective for them. But being effective doesn't mean that a witch hunting knife can really be the key to deciding the outcome of a battle. "Bang!" the two moray eel heads that approached Lothar quickly turned and slammed into the Count's body! The dull sound of the impact showed that these ugly grotesque heads were actually much more powerful and resilient than they had been fighting the mountain monsters before, and that the reason they allowed the gatekeeper to destroy their own heads was probably just for teasing.

"Hmm. The Count, who had been knocked off the monster's trunk, let out a muffled grunt, and the whole man smashed like a cannonball into the shallow water by the beach. It was enough to send a warrior to a wreck, and even with the cushion of sea water and sand, Lothar's ears rang with the buzzing sound that only occurs when the brain is injured. But his anger did not allow him to fall so easily, and the warrior in leather armor stood up from the shallow water as soon as he stood up, and the real anger in his eyes made him not have the slightest fear in the face of demons.

"Kill!" Before the heads uttered a mocking word, the warrior began his charge again. At this time, Lothar was not a knight, he could completely ignore the tenets that had made him abide by them all his life, and as long as he could knock down the monster in front of him as a means that he was seen as a subordinate method, he would not spare any means. Now Lothar has only one identity, he is a defender, defending his blood relatives and loved ones. And just this one identity is enough to make him stronger than ever.

Any opponent will be expected to be in the face of such an earl, because when a man is determined to fight you, you have to consider whether to put your life on the table and play a game with no winner. But the demon is not a living being, and it can see all emotions in its countless eyes of insidious evil, but not fear. You can't kill something that's already dead, and this demon is something that comes from the gathering of unwilling souls who died in the sea.

"Whoa!" the five lower heads roared, stretching out their necks that seemed to stretch indefinitely, sending their sharp teeth to Lothar's side. The Count did not hesitate in the face of an oncoming attack, the shallow water and fine sand slowed him down, but also made his landing more solid than on flat ground. Lothar instinctively took advantage of this, and he stopped his advancing form with his legs buried in the sand to his ankles, and after a deep breath, he quickly lowered the upper part of his body forward, and the moray eel aimed at his torso lost its purpose and brushed the Count's back. But Lothar didn't intend to let his opponent go, he exerted his strength from his waist, twisting his entire body like a leather band that had been twisted and stretched, and with the splash of water, the blade of the tomahawk once again tasted the taste of demons. Even, due to the thickness of the moray eel, Lothar's attack almost cut off the monster, leaving only the extremely thin flesh attached to the second half of the body.

Again, the screams rang out, and the terrible howls turned into a wave of sound that shook the sea and the sand. Under this trembling, the shells buried under the sand around the hut were lifted slightly upwards. But now was not the time to care, for the danger faced by Lothar was far from over, and he had escaped the attack of the first moray eel, but with him four equally ugly heads. Moreover, the demons from the sea will not necessarily attack from the front.

"Poof!" the water splashed, and the beast lurking from the water did not think about whether its attack would hurt its previous kind, and it clenched its teeth fiercely at the Earl's waist, but it did not expect to be stuck by the tomahawk that reached between its upper and lower jaws in time, and could not close it completely.

"You want to eat me, your teeth aren't hard enough!"