I Will Be The Crowned King

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At the moment when the gunshots sounded, Reinhard, who was stunned, didn't have time to react. He saw An Sen, who had his back to the figure, smashed the table with his right hand, and he was knocked out by the exquisite carved dining table.

He first felt the whistling of the air in his ears and the exclamation of strangers, and then the pain from the collision and squeezing between his back and abdominal cavity, pouring into his brain like ice cubes.

The illusion that he was caught between the battering ram and the city gate at the same time made Reinhard Roland, who had been forced to give up since he was a child because he had not awakened the power of his bloodline, blacked out and fainted.

Almost at the same time, An Sen, who avoided the cold gun with the help of [Mist of the Undead], had recovered his figure and finally saw the attacker's figure clearly.

The other party was wearing a clean black formal suit, with neatly combed hair, a face full of consternation, showing a bit of maturity and immaturity, and there was a bit of bookish air between his brows.

No wonder Reinhard admits his mistake, he does look a lot like Alan Dwayne, except for his height, of course... Anson muttered to himself in his heart.

The attacker didn't seem to know the information that Anson was a spell caster. From head to toe, he was incredulous, and even pulled the trigger and was stunned for a moment:

"You?! How could you..."

Before he finished speaking, a golden-red beam of light hit his face.

Spell magic, [hunting].

"Crack-crack-crack!"

The beam of light penetrated the entire restaurant, and after penetrating two goblets in a row, blew a bottle of Tirpitz rum on the wine cabinet to smithereens.

The frightened and angry assailant dodged swiftly and swiftly, the residual warmth that passed by left a charred black wound with deep visible bone on his left shoulder, and the muzzle of his right hand suddenly lifted up and pulled the trigger quickly, but No sound was made.

Um? !

An Sen, who originally planned to continue the pursuit, forcibly stopped his body, forcibly slid in the opposite direction to the previous momentum, and threw a [sharp wind] at the attacker at the same time.

The next second, six craters appeared silently on the chair, floor, and wall, exactly where he was about to move.

If Anson hadn't retreated just now, there was almost no possibility of escaping!

Just as the other party pulled the trigger, An Sen's mind synchronously "saw" that the lead bullet rushing out of the muzzle did not hit the ceiling according to the normal trajectory, but passed through a very strange arc in the air. ; And regardless of the chamber, ballistics, or crater, there was no sound at all.

Able to control the ballistics of objects and isolate the sound, this guy is a wind knight... Ansen, who knew it in his heart, adjusted his pace calmly; instead of taking out the "dagger" revolver as usual, he pulled out the sleeve between his sleeves. The bayonet, rushing towards the opponent.

The continuous misjudgment coupled with the fact that the target not only did not escape, but even took the initiative to attack himself, the attacker's face showed a bit of panic, and he subconsciously avoided the interior of the restaurant.

The light-blue [Sharp Wind] attacked him from all angles from time to time, but it failed to cause the same damage as the [Hunting] at the beginning. and cutlery marks were left on the tableware.

There was not much space in the restaurant, and the attacker quickly retreated to the corner near the window; facing Anson, who had already charged forward, he hid the pistol behind his back again and pulled the trigger quickly.

This time, the four lead bullets are no longer in sequence, but come at intervals from different directions and angles, and even the speed is not the same; the only thing in common is that they are still silent.

There was no time to dodge... Anson's expression turned cold, and he continued to pounce on the attacker who had no way back, as if he was unaware of these attacks while biting his pipe.

Although after the incantation reached the fifth level, his "ability" has been strengthened to the point where he can see the bullet trajectory, but seeing and keeping up are two completely different things; Cleave bullets with instinctive knives.

Seeing the target rushing straight up, the corner of the attacker's mouth couldn't help but rise slightly.

But he couldn't laugh immediately - with a snap of his fingers, golden red flames gushed out from the pipe at the corner of Anson's mouth, rushing towards him like a surging flood.

Spell magic, [Rising Fire].

The attacker subconsciously tried to dodge, but immediately realized that he had retreated to the corner; the surging fire also seemed to have turned into some kind of liquid, which was not affected by the airflow at all.

In the roar of the raging fire, stray bullets wiped several bloodstains on Anson's temples and shoulders, but for some reason, it did not affect his actions at all. He was covered in flames and slammed straight into the attacker who could not hide. .

"boom--!"

The sound of the flames exploding shook the entire restaurant. The surrounding tables and chairs, wine cabinets, coffee tables, sofas, chandeliers... were either lit or shattered by the air waves, and scattered around with the flying embers.

"clang!"

The charred attacker pulled out his life-saving dagger before being beheaded, blocking the sharp bayonet.

But it's not over yet... Anson, who was blocked by the blade, decisively pulled out the "dagger", the dark revolver turned a spear in his hand, grabbed the barrel of the gun, and slammed the attacker on the head.

The raised handle of the gun let out a whistling of trembling air, and the attacker, who was caught in the neck by the bayonet, had nowhere to hide. He took out his revolver and aimed at Anson's forehead.

"boom--!"

The roaring lead bullet blew Anson's hair, and was forced to withdraw the revolver and the bayonet in his right hand that had not been hit. He avoided the headshot by predicting the position of the muzzle.

But the attacker didn't take the opportunity to pursue, and even didn't bother to look back, and rushed straight to the nearest restaurant window.

The assassination plan has failed, the explosion and gunshots just now will definitely attract the guards outside; he has to escape from here before the opponent completely surrounds the entire parliament!

Looking at the escape exit that was already near Chi Chi, the attacker turned to his side decisively, pointed his left elbow to the front, and at the same time retracted his neck, protecting most of his head with his arms.

But the moment he touched the window, the delicate stained glass did not shatter like the caramel was bitten up and down by his teeth, but turned into soft and tough brown candy, which directly pierced his raised left elbow. sunk in.

This... the attacker's pupils shrank suddenly.

"Click."

The crisp sound of the hammer of the revolver sounded, and he turned his head sharply, the corners of Anson Bach's raised mouth... and the pipe still smoking at the corners of his mouth were reflected in his pupils.

Spell magic, [Yanyujia].

At the moment when the two were covered by fire at the same time, Anson decisively covered and disguised Reinhard in the corner with smoke, the window glass and the front door of the restaurant; it was precisely because of the need to maintain this extremely energy-consuming spell that he was almost killed by one. Gun blasts head.

However, compared to the final reward, this small risk is clearly worth it... Maybe it was too hasty, and the attacker didn't even notice that the window was still intact after the explosion. Elaborate trap.

"I'll give you a small piece of advice, put down your arms and beg for your spare time, impersonating my clerk."

With cold eyes, An Sen looked at the attacker who was "sticky" by the smoke, and slowly raised his "dagger" at his head: "I'm not a particularly patient person... You have 60 seconds to answer my question. "

"Your name, your list, and who instructed you to kill me?"

The attacker struggled to turn his head, and the smoke that had only been attached to his left arm had begun to spread to his shoulders, entangling his neck and torso a little bit; obviously he had lost the ability to resist, but he still looked indifferent, four There was a bit of stubbornness in his eyes.

The cold-faced An Sen didn't seem to see it, and silently counted down the countdown in his heart very "abide by the agreement".

Sixty seconds later, he raised the dagger revolver and pulled the trigger.

At that moment, the corner of the attacker's mouth revealed a little cosmic delight; but in an instant, the coursing turned into a surprise, because the sound did not come from the revolver.

"puff!"

The "smoke tentacle" wrapped around the attacker's shoulder turned into a "smoke bayonet", penetrating the attacker's shoulder without warning.

"Hey ... Hey, um, um ... um, ah, ah, ah ... !!!!!"

Heartbreaking screams echoed in the messy restaurant.

The pale-faced attacker was gasping for breath. The "smoke bayonet" that penetrated his shoulder was not only sharp, but also had hooks and barbs of various sizes that were not easily detectable by the naked eye. Among the muscles, repeatedly tore the ruptured wound over and over again.

What he didn't know was that Anson gave the smoke condensed into bayonets and tentacles the property of "expanding" the senses, doubling the pain.

There is no way, the fifth-order conjurer with proficiency can do whatever he wants within his casting range... An Sen sighed silently in the bottom of his heart, and pulled the trigger by the way.

"boom--!"

The gunshots sounded, this time the lead bullet was not redirected, leaving a blood hole in the attacker's thigh - and he couldn't escape.

So his bloodline power is able to control the transmission of sound in the air, and can control the direction of flying objects and even bullets, but at the cost of... not being able to speak?

"Last warning."

Holding the still smoking muzzle, Anson glanced at his pocket watch: "Give you another sixty seconds, don't make me regret my kindness and generosity."

"kindness?"

The attacker who endured the pain raised his head, cold sweat dripping from his face like water, and the corners of his mouth were still stubbornly tight: "Anson Bach, this is far from over."

"Put away your hypocritical kindness and fight as hard as you can before the real fear comes; when he comes, it will be the only thing you have left!"

He stared intently at Anson's eyes, the corners of his trembling mouth rose wildly, his right hand suddenly raised the revolver, pointed at his temple, and shot the last buckshot.

"boom--!"

The roar sounded, and two gun flames bloomed in the restaurant at the same time.

Because of the need to maintain the [Smoke Entertainment Home], Anson's reaction was one step slower than the attacker's; the lead bullet had penetrated his throat before the barrel of his right hand was knocked off.

At the same time as the blood was gushing out, a relieved smile appeared on the attacker's face.

It's over, it's over.

Although it is a pity that the assassination failed, it was all worth it, Ansen Bach... can never imagine what awaits him...

"Boom!"

With a calm face, An Sen suddenly stepped forward and swung the revolver to hit the attacker's forehead; the blood-gushing figure fell unconscious, his smile froze.

With his backhand to release Yan Yujia, An Sen squatted beside the dying attacker with a dignified expression, and stretched his right hand to the wound that was still bleeding.

Just as he was about to touch the skin, a translucent silver paintbrush appeared in his empty right hand, and followed the movements of his hand to draw a circle around the wound.

Spell magic, [Wound Canvas].

This is the new magic that Anson has just learned from the "Great Book of Magic". In theory, it can transfer a wound or damaged trace to another location or living creature.

This magical effect is visible to the naked eye, but there are many restrictions: the wound to be transferred must always be within the casting range, and once it is removed, it will become invalid; at the same time, the caster must be unable or give up resisting, otherwise it will have a counter-effect.

He wants to transfer the wound from the attacker to himself, creating the illusion that the opponent's assassination is almost successful!

Carefully use a paintbrush to circle the part of the wound... Remove it little by little along the angle of the skin... Then slowly lift the wound into the air... Confirm the position... Slowly fit it to a certain position on your shoulder... Not too deep, Otherwise, the injury is too serious... It can't be too shallow. These are two penetrating wounds. Too shallow it will look fake...

How should I put it, although the magic itself is amazing, why does the operation process feel like a drawing software?

Holding the penetrating wound on his left shoulder that was already bleeding, An Sen, who kept complaining in his heart, glanced at the unconscious attacker on the ground, sighed and shook his head, turned and walked to the table that he had pushed to the corner, and grabbed a hand. Sit down on the chair.

I don't know if I'm lucky, the apple **** on the table is still intact, not even stained with a little dust; Anson shrugged his right shoulder and picked up the rum that fell at his feet, biting off the cork~ www.readwn.com~ Poured myself half a glass.

After another minute, the comatose Reinhard finally woke up. He opened his eyes with difficulty, panting to keep himself awake as much as possible, looked around and then...

stunned.

The restaurant, which was magnificent a few minutes ago, is now in a mess, as if it had been bombed by a grenade or a three-pounder; a stranger in a suit and leather shoes was lying with scorch marks all over his body, but no wound could be seen. In the midst of broken glass, he was unconscious.

Anson Bach was sitting in front of him, covering the bleeding wound on his shoulder with one hand, and busy playing with the wine glass and fork with the other, drinking rum and eating apple tarts as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, are you awake?"

Seemingly noticing his own voice, the Brigadier General raised his head happily and poured a glass of wine with his injured left arm, as if nothing had happened:

"The guards will have to wait a little longer to come over. Would you like to accompany me for a drink first?"