I will be crowned king

"clang!"

The loud sound of splashing stone fragments echoed in the deep corridor, and the long scythe filled with steam was nailed to the cold rock wall, trembling slightly like the sickle blade of a living creature.

Anson, who had barely escaped death, was tense all over. The stumbling figure in the darkness was reflected in his suddenly shrinking pupils, and he gasped violently with the ups and downs of his shoulders with the corners of his mouth slightly open.

If it weren't for the conjurer's innate sense of distance, if he didn't have "superpowers"... he would have ended up with an unlucky elf blood mage.

"Hide beautifully."

Chanis said coldly, limping towards this side: "If I remember correctly, you should be the most insightful...conjuration mage among the scum I have ever seen."

"oh?"

Anson raised his eyebrows and pointed the muzzle of the "dagger" at the dark figure. The left hand hidden behind his back had quietly pressed the bayonet handle hidden in the cuff: "So... it wasn't 'accidental', my hand slipped. one time?"

"of course not."

Chanis raised his head slightly, and his hoarse and panting voice echoed in the corridor: "Then how did you notice it?"

Anson shook his head: "I'm not talking about this time."

The figure of the judge was suddenly startled, and his footsteps stopped in place.

A dull roar echoed in the dead corridor.

"...You have discovered it a long time ago?"

Chanis's expression became solemn, and his eyes shrouded in smoke revealed uncontrollable murderous intent.

"It can only be regarded as a little suspicious - he just promised Louis to stay near the exit, and the next second he broke the promise and started killing." Anson said in a deep voice, watching the inquisitor's every move vigilantly:

"No matter how much you hate the Old God Sect, it's still too deliberate."

It was so deliberate that it was as if he was deliberately looking for an opportunity to accidentally "accidentally" kill everyone.

"Can I ask why?"

"You know why, Mr. Conjurer Anson Bach."

"...I was forced."

"That's what all the condemned men say when they go to the gallows."

"I didn't have a choice at first, but now I want to be a good person."

"The prerequisite is that you are still a human being."

"..."

In the dark corridor, the two of them were like friends they hadn't seen for many years, chatting wordlessly.

Until they both pulled the trigger at the same time.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The dazzling firelight continuously collided in the dark corridor, causing deafening loud noises in the narrow corridor.

In the blink of an eye, Chanis, dressed in black, rushed out of the shadows without warning. His murderous eyes tore through the smoke and locked onto Anson's figure. Thick steam surged out of his tattered windbreaker like substance.

Without hesitation, Anson rushed forward and drew the bayonet hidden under his left arm.

"clang!"

The bright silver blade shredded the white mist, and the sound of metal shaking exploded in the air one after another; the splashing mist left burn marks one after another on his body.

Facing the oncoming Anson, Chanis, who was wrapped in white mist, retreated decisively. His staggering figure dodged the falling bayonet at an extremely weird angle, and rushed straight towards the sickle nailed to the wall. .

Anson, who missed the shot, suddenly turned around in mid-air, pointed his left hand holding the bayonet at Chanis's back, and made a "pistol" gesture.

Curse magic, [Hunting]

The next second, a cone-shaped flame shot out from the tip of Anson's left index finger and struck the Inquisitor's back.

Just when his back was about to be pierced by flames and his heart and ribs were blown apart, the staggering judge suddenly turned around and threw the empty "dagger" revolver.

"boom!"

The golden-red "lead bullet" rushed straight into the barrel of the revolver, and the silver gun body exploded into a ball of fire in mid-air.

Taking advantage of this brief gap, Chanis grasped the sickle nailed to the rock wall.

Without hesitation, Anson, who clutched the bayonet tightly, rushed towards the opponent, and at the same time imprinted [Sharp Wind] on the blade.

Since the opponent is using a long weapon like a sickle, the best way to fight is of course to fight as closely as possible and shorten the attack distance.

Then he realized that he had made a fatal mistake.

"clang--!!!!"

A scream that tore through the air rang in his ears, and the cold sickle blade turned into an afterimage in Chanis's hand, attacking Anson with an extremely strange attitude.

Just when he was about to be torn into pieces, Anson stopped the bayonet that had been thrust out and held the sickle blade with the back of the knife.

Anson, who pursed his lips tightly, was shaken all over, and he could even hear the bones in his body whining uncontrollably.

But Chanis' attack isn't over yet!

The cold-faced judge grasped the long handle tightly and pulled it back without any warning.

Anson, who was stuck within three steps of the scythe, watched helplessly as the scythe struck from his back.

"puff!"

Along with a puff of smoke, the dropped sickle pulled out a string of sparks on the rock wall.

A sinister smile broke out at the corner of Chanis' lips, and the fallen scythe suddenly began to tremble, making a sharp whistle sound, dragging sparks towards Anson's head.

Anson, who had just escaped a disaster and gradually condensed from smoke into a solid substance, could not avoid it at all. He stared at the scythe that was coming toward him and spewing steam. He threw away the "dagger" and the revolver with his right hand and snapped his fingers again.

Curse Magic, [Rising Fire]

"Um?!"

Chanis, who frowned slightly, turned back sharply. The sparks the sickle struck on the wall suddenly stopped and turned into raging fire, turning into a golden-red torrent and rushing towards him.

Seizing the opponent's flaw at this moment, Anson clenched his teeth and rushed behind him desperately - while not forgetting to take out a grenade and throw it to the opponent.

The metal ball rolling in the air rushed into the sea of ​​​​fire, bursting into dazzling fireworks in front of Chanis, whose eyes were wide open.

"boom--!!!!"

A deafening loud noise shook the corridor, and Ansen, who fell backwards, was directly knocked out by the air wave and hit the rock wall hard.

The billowing smoke filled the entire corridor.

Anson, who endured the dizziness and pain, stood up from the ground, raised his hand to catch the "Dagger" revolver that fell from the sky, loaded it, loaded the gun, and pulled the hammer. All in one go, the dark muzzle pointed at Chanis's position and roared again. .

This is a very obvious truth - it is impossible for an inquisitor of Chanis's level to be sent to see the Ring of Order with a little magic and a grenade.

"clang!"

The moment the gun flames roared, a flash of metal-colliding fire burst out from the smoke.

Without any time to think, Anson suddenly slid behind him to dodge, and at the same time pulled the trigger crazily.

"Dang————Dang! Dang! Dang! Dang!"

The scythe sounding the whistle tore through the smoke screen, and the black afterimage shattered the lead bullets one by one, approaching like a steam train.

"clang--!!!!"

He forcibly used his bayonet to hold the falling sickle blade head-on. The momentum coming from the blade shocked Anson's whole body, and his face instantly turned pale.

Although he had obviously blocked the attack, the severe pain made him feel like he had been split in half.

Not only that...the roaring sickle continued to spit out smoke, and the entire corridor echoed with the scream of the whistle.

The frightened Anson suddenly raised his head and found that Chanis was also staring at him. Under his bloodshot pupils, he bit the corner of his pipe and let out a low roar:

"The Old Gods...must die!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a thick white vapor exploded instantly.

The pitch-black corridor shook violently, and countless pieces of gravel cracked from the rock wall on the top floor, dissipating invisible in the high-temperature steam before they hit the ground.

"boom--!"

In the darkness shrouded in steam, a golden-red fire lit up.

At the last second before it turned into [Anson Bach (cooked)], Anson, who endured the pain, fired a [Gathering Flame] directly underneath him.

The power of the Conjurer is to interfere with and distort reality. In other words, as long as it is within the casting range and as long as the magic in the memory has not been completely exhausted, it can still ignite a flame even in a vacuum without oxygen or in the deep blue sea. .

Although the feeling of being roasted by fire is not pleasant, it is at least 10,000 times stronger than being cooked by steam.

The white mist cleared, and Chanis, who frowned, stared coldly at the figure shrouded in firelight, and silently raised the scythe in his hand.

Anson was breathing heavily, and scattered flames mixed with ashes were rising and flying around him; his whole body was covered with charred ashes from head to toe, and he was extremely embarrassed.

In comparison, Chanis only had a little more dust on his windbreaker, and all the blood and dirt had evaporated in the explosion.

Is this the strength of the retiring judge?

It's different from Lawrence's extremely tyrannical defense, and it's not like Louis Bernard's fully improved "Sea Knight", but it's similar to a guy who is said to have "collapsed half the position with one roar."

The power to be extremely succinct and overbearing.

"Cough cough cough cough...!!!"

Anson took a deep breath and coughed violently. After accidentally inhaling a breath of steam, his entire throat and lungs seemed to be burning violently. They only undulated slightly, as if someone had used a mace covered with rusty nails to cut through the trachea. Like poking it in.

Anson's whole body was so tense that his cheeks kept twitching slightly in pain.

If the other party does this again, I'm afraid I will have to...

"The power of blood?"

Chanis suddenly froze on the spot, staring at Anson with disbelief: "What Cole Dorian said is actually true...you..."

"You are actually a gifted person?!"

Anson was suddenly startled.

He suddenly remembered something. In his impression, Louis seemed to have said that even without using abilities, talented people who have awakened the power of blood can sense each other's existence in some way.

Looking at Chanis's appearance, could he be aware of the reaction of a gifted person in himself?

"How is this possible... The power of blood in the body of a spellcaster who believes in the old gods has not dissipated, but is still intact?! This... this is absolutely unprecedented..."

Chanis was extremely shocked, and his words suddenly stopped.

No, that's not right.

Not unprecedented.

This situation did exist in the history of the Church of Order, and it was just a hundred years ago.

The guy... who turned the entire Order world upside down...

At that moment, the inquisitor, whose face was full of disbelief, suddenly turned ferocious; he swung his screaming steam scythe and launched an attack without warning.

"boom--!!!!"

At the moment when the steam exploded loudly, Anson didn't hesitate for a moment, turned around, threw Chanis down and ran towards the exit of the underground passage.

Now I don't have the means to cause enough effective damage to this guy. Even if I bet on the power of blood to "resurrect the dead", at most it can only delay a little time.

Moreover, Anson expressed serious doubts about whether he could still activate the power of blood after being completely steamed.

"boom--!!!!"

There was another loud noise.

In the surging steam, Chanis, wielding a scythe, came from behind at an astonishing speed.

Continuous trembling sounds shook the entire underground passage; traces of cracks continued to extend on the rock walls on both sides, and countless rubble mixed with dust collapsed from the rock wall above the head.

Listening to the screams getting closer and closer behind him, Anson, who was panting, looked increasingly ugly.

At this critical moment of life and death, he suddenly remembered a question that he had been a little confused about before - since Chanis had to kill himself, why did he save his life when entering the underground passage?

Obviously as long as he left it alone, he would not be able to enter the underground passage. It was definitely a high probability that he would be covered in artillery fire from the Judgment Knights' airship and exploded into the sky.

The answer is simple - because he wants to kill himself!

Obviously, for Chanis, his identity didn't matter from the beginning. He didn't care about it at all. All he wanted was to kill more of the Old Gods.

As he said himself, from the moment he became a spell caster, he was no longer a "human"; no matter how friendly or similar he seemed, he was still an unrelenting enemy.

The Old Gods must die... This is the logic of Chanis, or many Inquisitors.

"boom!"

The crisp sound of gunshots suddenly sounded in front of the underground passage. Anson, who was trembling all over, suddenly looked up, and a familiar figure came into his eyes.

That's...Louis? !

The expressionless Louis Bernard stood in front of the exit of the passage, staring with cold eyes at Anson who was running desperately, and Chanis who was chasing after him.

He looked at the friend who had defeated him time and time again, the friend who had hurt Freya Moses Field in front of him, and the friend who had killed his brother Claude Bernard and captured Thunder Castle.

After a long silence, Louis slowly put down the still smoking revolver in his right hand and pointed the black muzzle straight ahead.

Anson felt chilled.

In his current state, even with the blessing of bloodline power, he will never be able to escape the pursuit of the two geniuses, Louis and Chanis! What's more, there is the Judgment Knights outside.

Louis...he didn't even need to do it himself, as long as he revealed the information that "Anson Bach is a spell caster" to the Judgment Knights, he would be dead!

"Anson——" Louis, with a complicated expression, suddenly shouted:

"Get down!"

Anson, who was suddenly stunned, stopped and immediately noticed another petite figure standing behind Louis.

Freya Moses Field? !

The expressionless Elf Queen Iser slowly raised her right hand, spread her fingers, and pointed her palm straight ahead...

Then he clenched his fist fiercely.

"boom----!!!!"

Sorry, sorry for the late update. On the first day of the new year, I wish you all a happy New Year!