Chapter 54

Russer felled the heavily armored warrior in front of him and warily glanced at the smiling knight not far away. With his strength, it wasn't difficult to kill a heavily armored swordsman, but it was hard to do so while surrounded by so many people.

It had to be said that the defense of these heavily armored swordsmen was extremely abnormal. Not only were they clad in heavy armor, but even Russer's blunt strikes were ineffective. If it were an ordinary person, a single blunt strike from Russer would have caused internal bleeding.

Swords couldn't penetrate, and blunt strikes didn't work. In the end, Russer had to kick the swordsman's lower body, repeatedly targeting his knee joints, and finally broke his knees. Only then did he find a gap behind the neck, where he delivered a hand strike, allowing his斗气 (martial aura) to invade and explode, finally felling the heavily armored swordsman.

Their defense was astonishing, but their combat ability was actually not high. They only knew how to slash and sweep, and there was no sign of martial aura fluctuations. They relied solely on brute strength, making them very strange enemies. Combined with the faint odor emanating from them, Russer strongly suspected that what was inside the armor was not human.

With this suspicion, Russer naturally wanted to verify it. He kept an eye on Leornard and went to lift the helmet of the heavily armored swordsman.

Clippity-clop... Leornard's warhorse lifted its leg and took a step, almost charging to Russer in a single sprint, and Leornard swung his sword.

Russer had been wary of him, but the speed of the warhorse still caught him off guard. He awkwardly swung his sword to block and retreated several steps, putting a safe distance between them.

"What kind of horse is this!?" Russer asked in surprise. The horse, when it moved, was as swift as lightning, clearly no ordinary beast.

The warhorse actually curled its lip in a disdainful expression: "Horse? What horse? Your whole family is a horse. You ignorant fool, look closely, it's a unicorn, Lightning."

Lightning raised its large hooves and thumped its forehead, the movement so large that it almost knocked Leornard off its back.

Russer's jaw dropped, and he asked in astonishment: "Where's your horn?"

Although this world had no such creature as a unicorn, Russer had read books and knew that unicorns had horns. The forehead of this 'horse' was completely bald, with no sign of a horn.

Lightning seemed to have anticipated this question and replied bluntly: "It fell off, humph!" Then it turned its head and ignored Russer.

Russer's gaze returned to Leornard, who rode a unicorn as swift as lightning and was himself quite powerful: "You have the strength of a Great Swordsman. Who are you?"

An expert can tell the skill level of another with just a touch. From that one strike, Russer had roughly gauged Leornard's strength, which was at least at the Great Swordsman level.

Although one rank lower than Russer, the combination with his mount made a significant difference. With a unicorn as a mount, not only was the speed fast, but the intelligence was also high, easily achieving a synergy greater than the sum of its parts. Moreover, Leornard knew magic, clearly following the path of a Holy Knight.

"Truly a barbarian from the Abyss, with no manners at all. When asking someone's name, shouldn't you first introduce yourself?" Leornard took out a whip from his saddle and lashed it on the ground, wrapping it around the neck of the heavily armored swordsman Russer had felled, lifting him up.

The heavily armored swordsman hung by his neck, limp and leaning against the unicorn. Leornard summoned holy light with one hand and pressed it against the wound on the back of the neck.

"Lord of the Ice City, Sword Saint Russer Loven, who are you?" Russer, curious about the other's identity, didn't want to waste time arguing and quickly reported his name, then urged for an answer.

"Your name is so short, fitting for a barbarian from the Abyss." Leornard smiled and shook his head, speaking elegantly: "I am the Commander of the Holy Blade Army, Knight of the Divine, Conqueror of the Resting Abyss, Leornard Saint Anthony Augustus Arms Rock Amsterdam..."

Leornard reported a name that was eighty-six characters long, almost making Russer yawn.

"Enough, enough, Mr. Long and Stinky, are you talking about this place when you mention the Resting Abyss?" Russer pointed at the ground, surprised.

Leornard didn't get angry, smiling and saying: "Just call me Leornard. Of course, I've conquered so many planes that even I can't remember them all. They have no meaning to you, but this place does. So, let's call it the Resting Abyss. I'll forget it soon anyway, so it doesn't matter what you call it."

Russer was stunned for a long time before managing to say: "Has anyone ever told you that you talk like you're asking for a beating?"

"Perhaps, but who cares about the voice of an ant? Defeat my servant first."

The heavily armored swordsman, whose neck was still in Leornard's whip, shook his head and stood up straight on his own.

Leornard released his hand, quickly shaking it in disgust, then took out a clean handkerchief from his saddlebag and carefully wiped it. After wiping, he casually threw the clearly high-quality handkerchief to the ground.

Russer frowned. Was he healed? No, even if the neck wound was healed, what about the knees? How could he stand up?

The heavily armored swordsmen's ability to not die, combined with the faint odor, made Russer suspect that what was inside the armor might be an undead creature, especially since the neck wound didn't bleed after being felled.

But now it didn't seem like that. The heavily armored swordsman was not afraid of holy light and could be healed by it.

The heavily armored swordsman shook his head, clearly no longer affected by the injury. He picked up his longsword and took large steps toward Russer.

"I can kill you once, I can kill you ten times." Russer grunted, sidestepping the heavily armored swordsman's slash and delivering a hand strike to the gap behind the neck. His martial aura invaded, tearing open a large wound, and he followed up with a sword strike, decapitating the heavily armored swordsman.

Knowing the weak point, these iron cans were easy to deal with.

"Let's see you save him now." Russer muttered angrily.

"Heh heh, how do you know I can't save him? But it's been so long, and you've only killed one. My other servants must have almost flattened the battlefield..." As he spoke, he glanced out, and his eyes bulged at what he saw.

A grayish-white skeleton was swinging a large scythe, slicing through the body of a heavily armored swordsman. The scythe, like an invisible force, passed through the heavily armored swordsman's body, taking away a small, unremarkable soul flame.

"Scythe of Death!? Impossible, isn't that a skill of the Golden Skeleton? How can a Gray Bone Skeleton have it?" Leornard's face lost its elegant smile, replaced by shock.