"Hmm. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo”

Seniore spat out a word, and a strong force roamed through his body.

The professional cautiously held the blade to suppress his movements, and the flying sword struck away in an instant, and scattered sparks erupted.

The body of the sword that flashed away had words inscribed in the Westmar language.

Exhaustion.

For Senior, it is a sword of great significance, carrying the honor of his mentor and his way of balance.

The mountains are gone, and the jade is endless.

There are so many stories hidden in them.

His fingertips trembled, his speed skyrocketed, and a sharp light came out of his eyes, falling on the tip of the sword like a feather, and the light wind immediately brought life to his side, and never stopped.

Teng Teng, he took three steps in succession, scattered and simple slashes like magic, weaving into a net, all the cold beams on one side, as if binding the rock wall of the wave.

Mastering dozens of one-to-many techniques by himself is one of the necessary techniques for a Master Assassin, Seniors meditated in his mind.

"Damn it!" "How is that possible?!"

The surprise on the faces of the professionals quickly turned to anger as the weapons came out of their hands, staring at the group of weapons they had chosen suspended in mid-air, and cautiously retreated to the back.

Incredible, unprecedented combat skills?

The professionals of Camp Rog are looking for simple, most efficient combat techniques, but the skills displayed by Seniors in front of them are dazzling.

For the first time, they felt the need to value the pros from Westmar, who were much more like greenhouses than Camp Rog but also nurtured strong people.

"Speed."

Senior's footsteps shifted slightly, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he let out a whisper.

The group of weapons in mid-air flew upside down, lined up in a circle, spread out like a picture scroll, and shot at the front row of professionals whose faces had changed drastically.

The blade pierced the skin, splattering blood, and several barbarians screamed and retreated, and were immediately wounded.

The smell of corruption permeated the wounds, suggesting that the blades had been imbued with the necromancer's cursed powers—the professionals of the Church of Roso knew that Seniors were assassins, so they did not resort to the obvious means of quenching the poison, indicating their sinister intentions.

There was a large expanse of space around Senior, and it was clear that the pros were intimidated by his strange moves.

Some people don't, though.

"Rush over with a shield and ignore his tricks!"

A paladin jerked away his feared companions and sprinted like a bull at Senior's place, shouting angrily, waking up a group of professionals.

"Fancy moves don't have power." "Ridiculous acrobatics."

Two other figures came from behind Senior, each holding a huge shield, their eyes red, trying to knock him to the ground.

Lv13，Lv9，Lv15.

Quickly judging the level of the three, Seniors tightened the long sword in his hand.

Boom! Knock knock!

The dull crash dissipated with the stirring wind, and the Lv9 paladin took a few steps back, looking ahead with shocked eyes.

The giant shield in his hand had a clear depression, and a long black stick appeared in Senior's other hand, where the great force had just come from.

The barbarians of Lv13 and Lv15 blushed, their shoulders rattling, but they couldn't shake their sticks.

"It's not acrobatics."

"It's called the Way of Balance," Seniore said in a deep voice. ”

The shadows of the sticks staggered, and the heads of the two were hit hard, and their vision blurred for an instant, and they had to let go and retreat, shaking their heads and staring at Senior.

Why does this man have so many tricks?

The professionals looked at each other, and no one dared to move easily, including the rat-faced paladin who had been the most loud before, he stayed in the middle of the crowd, his palms clenching the hilt of his sword were slightly oozing with sweat, his expression was very gloomy, and his eyes kept flashing.

For a while, I couldn't take the Westmar Assassin in front of me.

"Kill him."

His face turned hideous, and the sound of his words shook the professionals around him.

Wow, a sharp edge broke through the air and pierced directly into the paladin's head, shooting out a stream of bright red blood, splashing the dull-faced professionals around him.

The change was too sudden.

The chain wrapped around his neck was taken back by Seniors in the blink of an eye, the red and white blades were held in the palm of his hand, and the blood-stained corpse under his feet dragged a large amount of blood on the ground, his face was cold and hard, "The professionals of the Rog camp don't kill their hands, you really have an attempt." ”

"I've seen too many idiots."

The chains shook, and the heads of several nearby professionals were shaved off, and the trembling headless bodies flew out with blood, staining the gray stone brick floor.

"Kill him!" "Kill him!" "Westmar bastards!"

The pros were furious, fearful, and frantically attacking, as a vague black shadow descended from the sky and smashed down on Senior's face, splattering a small pool of blood on his longsword.

Everyone was stunned, and in the solemn atmosphere, including Senior, they lowered their heads and saw that it was a head.

The heads of the super pros, the pupils of several paladins shrunk into needles, and they gasped.

"This is..."

They are somewhat incoherent.

Rumble! The swift figure fell, carrying a blinding cold light, and for a moment intertwined with Senior, and the stone bricks under his feet suddenly cracked, bursting into countless fragments.

The strong aura forced these professionals below Lv18 to be completely unable to get close.

The figure descending from the sky became clear, and among the chaotic stones, the astonished professionals saw Senior's solemn face, and Leslie's expression of indifference.

"Exit the street on the left."

Leslie's tone was unmistakable, and the words were addressed to the Monk Priest next to him, who calmly looked at Seniors in front of him, and Seniors looked at him as well.

The professionals gritted their teeth and left, the footsteps cluttered and faded away.

Soon all that was left was Seniore and Leslie confronting each other, and blood and broken heads all over the ground.

"You're with them, Leslie?"

Seniore frowned, although he had not been in Rog's camp for a short time, he also had a lot of knowledge about some of the things that happened in the camp, "Who released you, and what is the situation now?" ”

"I thought you didn't talk much."

Leslie's face flashed with surprise, "Or do you want to join us?" ”

As he spoke, he turned the dagger in his hand, and the momentum of the super professional slowly dispersed, and the sense of oppression was extremely strong.

“・・・”

After a little consideration, Senior's frowning brow suddenly relaxed, "Leslie, I don't understand what you're doing, as a super professional, isn't fighting demons the first priority?" Why are you hanging out with these people, or are you..."

"There were a lot of people who were on our side from the beginning, but they were on our side too early and no one noticed."

Leslie added a few skills to herself, and her eyes lit up, "You're right, fighting demons is indeed the number one priority, but before that, there has to be the right person to guide Rog's camp, and that person can't be a cunning Westmar or a pedantic monk." ”

The atmosphere was silent for a while.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Senior's look of confusion said, "Conceptual problems can be solved through communication, why are they so extreme..."

The sound of breaking through the air struck, and this time, Leslie answered Senior's question with a blade.

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After the end of the liquidation, there will basically be no mention of the Rog camp.,If you have questions about the plot.,If you have comments, please join the group.,The group number is below the introduction.,I really want book friends to join the group QAQ.。