Crown of Silence

Chapter 598 Protection

Ward

In silence, only Ye Qingxuan and Lancelot looked at each other.

"Leave Avalon?"

After a long time, Ye Qingxuan slowly shook his head: "Impossible."

Lancelot's expression did not change, as if he had already known the answer, but he just asked: "Why?"

Ye Qingxuan thought about it and was amused by the answer he thought of:

"Of course it is to save this city."

"You know, I don't want to hear this kind of routine words at the awarding ceremony."

Lancelot shook his head: "I know, you brought the elites with all your chips, you want to bet them on the gambling table, all, if you don't win, you will die.

But you chose the wrong place, Ye Qingxuan, this is not a casino. Your opponent is a natural disaster, There is even a possibility... that there are two. You will lose everything you have. "

He said, "Everyone who follows you here will die."

"That's exactly what I want."

Ye Qingxuan replied indifferently: "That's what they mean. They came here to follow me to die. If they don't die because of my weakness, they will be very disappointed.

I know what else you want to say, but I won't leave here, never."

Lancelot was silent for a long time, and sighed regretfully: "Little Ye, so many years have passed, and you always leave me no choice..."

There was a collision outside the door, and someone roared, and soon, the roar disappeared.

The sound of power armor sounded and stopped at the door.

Ye Qingxuan's eyes turned cold.

His guards were attacked by Lancelot's men. They were measured, but definitely not appropriate.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, they will protect you."

Lancelot lowered his head and said softly: "Protect you to leave here."

——

Five hours ago, early morning.

In the pale mist, Naven exhaled cold mist, and the mist lingering between his mouth and nose gradually rose, winding up along the stone pillars of the gate of Westminster Abbey, and finally dissipated at the fingertips of the relief.

On the stone pillar, the relief of the saint was expressionless, just looking down at the silent street, and at the fingertips, a drop of sweet dew condensed from the mist slowly dripped.

The dew fell on the back of Naven's hand, causing the five fingers holding the hilt to tighten. The steel seemed to carry heat, and holding the sword tightly, he could feel the illusion of warmth.

In just half a month, after experiencing symbolic blessings and purification, as well as complicated alchemical rituals, he implanted the alchemical matrix of the witch's hammer into the back of his neck, injected the body strengthening fluid into the tendon sheath, and the etheric nerve center as thick as the little finger and thousands of nerve fibers as thin as spider silk have been integrated with the spine.

He is completely different from the past.

Under special circumstances and Ye Qingxuan's request, in just half a month, he passed through decades of long training and tests for ordinary apprentices and became a newly promoted witch hammer.

And the body that had gradually aged and declined in the years of fighting and torture, after several adjustments, returned to the peak... or even better.

As the operator of power armor, the knight is no different from steel, and the body is not far from steel - in order to enhance the performance of a certain aspect, the original limbs are cut off and replaced with steel. It is not uncommon.

Naven's cultivation direction is the most common "sword dancer". No artificial internal organs are implanted, only the spine is partially modified, and thousands of etheric nerves bring superhuman reflex speed and dynamic vision.

And Naven's expertise in perception allows him to install another special matrix - thermal vision.

In the pair of bone-white pupils, all objects lose their color and turn into another strange vision. All matter emits heat, and no matter how clever the disguise is, it cannot escape his insight.

That's why he was assigned the task of keeping watch.

In the shadow under the gate, he stood quietly, his body under the gray robe like a stone statue, motionless. Only when he occasionally breathed would a little white mist come out of his mouth and nose to prove his existence.

But not long after midnight, he heard trivial footsteps coming from afar.

"Who?"

He looked up suddenly and saw a figure coming from the end of the street, step by step towards Westminster Abbey.

Naven's expression gradually tightened, raised his arm, signaled to the lookout behind the door, then walked out of the shadows and announced in a low voice:

"There is a military station ahead, please do not trespass."

The man seemed to laugh softly, but his footsteps did not stop, and he continued to move forward, one step, two steps, and the third step into the area ten meters in front of the door.

The order from the lookout came.

- Trespass, kill.

At that moment, the silent Naven stepped forward, the sword blade at his waist popped out and fell into his hand, drawing a concise half arc in the air, and the stream of light crossed a distance of several meters in an instant, slashing towards the neck of the visitor.

Under the gray robe, Naven's hands alternately moved forward. Although he was running wildly, his body did not rise and fall, and it was as stable as sliding, but the speed was incredibly fast.

In just a moment, he was already close at hand, the sword blade fell, and the sound of steel friction sounded in the whistle.

The visitor raised his arms, and the arm armor under the robe separated the sword blade. He stretched his hands forward skillfully, clenched his ten fingers into fists, and pressed against Naven's liver and spleen.

In the dim light of the street lamp, the pair of arms were faintly illuminated. They were covered with calluses, thick and ferocious, and looked like cast iron. Before they touched the body, the biting wind pressure could be felt.

Naven's pupils shrank.

This was a fighting trick against armored knights. For elite knights who had been transformed and modulated, the defense of the heart and head must be the top priority. The hardness of the bones may have been strengthened by alchemy. Not to mention the hands, even a hammer attack may not be effective.

Therefore, when facing the enemy, how to attack other minor parts is the top priority.

In a short moment, two crisp sounds of "kapa" rang out.

Naven's right hand holding the sword had no time to defend, but his left hand pulled out a short knife from the leather sheath tied to the inside of his right arm and chopped down the two palms neatly.

The joints of the two palms rubbed against each other, making a crackling sound. At the last moment, they turned over forcefully, one hand locked Naven's wrist, and the other hand snatched the knife.

The crisp sound of snapping was the effect of Naven's dislocated phalanx.

The opponent's strength was unexpectedly strong, just like a knight who had undergone a second strengthening of strength and bones.

In the severe pain, Naven, as if unaffected, did not try to snatch the blade again, but took the initiative to face the blade, the hilt in his right hand suddenly reversed, holding the long sword upside down, and stabbed it towards the carotid artery of the visitor!

Bang!

In the loud sound of steel breaking, Naven's long sword suddenly broke, and the sharp blade of the long sword rolled in the air and fell to the ground with a clanging sound.

And the arrow that broke the long sword in an instant brushed Naven's shoulder and nailed into the stone, buzzing. Until the opponent's short knife was attached to his neck, the arrow broke through the air and the shriek came late.

He lost.

Naven looked at the visitor expressionlessly. On the high tower of Westminster Abbey, the low sound of a strong crossbow being strung up sounded, and it was already aimed.

The visitor did not cut Naven's throat, but simply took back the dagger. After looking at him for a moment, he smiled softly and put the dagger back into Naven's sheath with his backhand.

On the back of the turned hand, the emblem of the arm armor was revealed.

——The Knights of the Round Table·Grand Knight Badge.

The visitor, one of the sixteen Grand Knights of the Round Table, reached out and patted his shoulder: "That's it, guards, change of post."

Naven was stunned and frowned: "What do you mean?"

The Grand Knight raised his hands and showed the military order: "By order of Lord Lancelot-from now on, Westminster Abbey is taken over by the Knights of the Round Table.

You are protected by the Knights of the Round Table..."

A low roar came from all directions.

In the thermal vision, dozens of ether furnaces glowed with fiery scarlet colors. Heavy power armors were pushed by the ether furnaces and moved on the streets of Avalon, with steel whistling.

The entire Inquisition's headquarters, Westminster Abbey, had been completely surrounded.

In Westminster Abbey, the low sound of power armors starting up continued to sound. The arrows on the huge longbow were aimed at the big knight from a distance.

The situation was tense.

In the hall, the sleepy Shi Dong slightly raised his eyes and looked at the yawning Archbishop Mephistopheles: "Are we... under house arrest?"

"Probably... are we going to resist?"

"For hundreds of years, why does the Grand Inquisitor go to some unknown place at the critical moment? Is this a curse?"

Shi Dong sighed with some trouble, and shook his head for a long time: "It's too troublesome, forget it."

He lowered his eyes again: "Since there is someone guarding the door, let the boys go back to the dormitory to sleep. It's the time to grow up, it's not good to stay up late, don't let others down."

--

Under the same dark night, in the lower city, in the ruins of the manor, Watson yawned and lit the cigarette at the corner of his mouth.

The flickering light of the cigarette illuminated the long sword on the neck. The blade had layers of patterns, and the patterns were as beautiful as flowers. It was a rare and good sword.

A cold wind blew, and the tattered desk in front of him wailed, as if it was about to collapse.

He took a deep breath of the aroma of tobacco, then relaxed, leaned on his wheelchair, and slowly scanned the surroundings. Looking at the shadows that surrounded him.

Half a minute ago, he was still sitting in his office, flipping through the news sent by the informant behind his desk, and the fireplace was warm.

But half a minute later, the office had collapsed, and the four walls were instantly smashed by the "visitors" who rushed in. Then, the fireplace was covered by the collapsed walls, and the warmth was gone.

Watson was surrounded, with a long sword against his neck, watching his men being subdued by the group of visitors one by one, pressed to the ground, and shackled.

Lightweight armor, fierce offensive means, skilled sweeping movements, and various equipment specially created for secret killings, it can be seen that there is a close plan and planning...

"That rumor is true?"

Watson smiled: "The decapitation unit built for special operations during the war, or the assassination army raised by Anglu... actually exists."

No one responded.

Those cold eyes just stared at him, and if he showed any signs of resistance, he would probably chop off his head without hesitation.

Watson had no doubts about this, but he still couldn't help but stretched out his hand and flicked the sword blade on his neck: "This sword is good, top quality. Tianzhu's hundred-grain steel must be smuggled goods, right? Where did it come from?" bought?"

Seeing the circular mark on the end of the sword blade, he suddenly became confused: "Oh, it belongs to the cripple in Ascaris Alley? He took it from me. It's so funny, he bought my sword to rob me..."

In the silence, someone sighed softly.

The people guarding him separated, and a man in a coat came over, dragged a broken chair, and sat opposite Watson, with the sword removed.

"Be honest, Mr. Watson."

He placed a badge on the table: "Do you recognize this?"

Watson's eyebrows raised slightly, "Oh, the military's spy chief? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, did anyone tell you that you crossed the line?"

The spy leader seemed helpless, "I don't really want to get involved in the affairs of the fifth department. Unfortunately, everything can't always go as planned. For some reason, the superiors feel that you are no longer reliable.

So, you need to cooperate with me. "

Watson smiled, "Or die?"

"Yes, or die."

The spy leader nodded, "We need to ensure that everything can be handed over smoothly. Although you have been fired, the work must be handed over well, so as not to leave any trouble for your successor, right?"

There was a long silence, Watson smoked a cigarette and looked at him expressionlessly. The confidential talk leader sat in a chair, silently waiting for his response.

It wasn't until a long time later that Watson smiled and spread his hands enthusiastically: "Then what are you waiting for? Bring me the map. You are welcome to search your home, gentlemen!"

Soon, a map was spread on the broken table.

Watson held a cigarette in his mouth and quickly made marks on the map, one after another.

“Currently, within Avalon, there are seventeen secret warehouses, nine gangs, and forty-one bank accounts.

A rough total of about 160 million pounds of liquidity. The fixed assets are more than six times, and there are fifty-one large enterprises with secret shareholdings..."

After spitting out a breathtaking number, Watson put out his cigarette and smiled:

"Which one do you want to start checking first?"

I have to catch a flight tomorrow, so maybe... no updates?