Dust of History Chapter 29: Assassination

Even in the capital city, during the darkest time before dawn, the noise had to be suppressed for a while. The street, which has exhausted the hustle and bustle of the whole day, is like a dying convulsion, with the occasional noise of a few drunks and the lights evaporating some remaining vitality.

Two drunk young men walk with each other's arms. One was completely drunk, and the other was a little more sober, and could still find a place for the two of them to stay next with the remaining sanity. Both of them are very young, exactly the age of fooling around, handsome and good-looking, and they are also the capital of fooling around. This is a common character in the capital, and the colleagues I met on the road didn't care.

The two young drunks gradually came to the quietest and darkest section of the road. There were also three drunks walking over crookedly in front. Everyone is getting closer and closer at a topsy-turvy pace.

Those three drunks seemed to be very drunk, and the smell of alcohol on their bodies filled the whole street. They couldn't even figure out the direction they were walking, they were almost walking sideways on the street, and they were about to run into those two drunk young men before they knew it. At the moment when they were about to collide, the hands of the three drunks suddenly flipped, as if they had been practicing for decades, and they each had a dagger in their hands. The hand holding the knife is very professional, and the grip is tight and steady. The body that was distorted like a snake that was shedding its skin just now straightened up suddenly, like a leopard, it suddenly rushed towards the two young people who were already close at hand. That quick movement has nothing to do with the still drunk expression on his face and the smell of alcohol all over his body.

The blade is very short, and it shimmers green under the light. There is no blood slot on it, because once the blood is out, the toxicity will be weakened.

These three knives entered the body as smoothly as piercing into bread. The sharp edges didn't make the slightest sound in the muscles, as if even the bones couldn't stop them. The unique shape really played a role, no blood flowed out, every bit of toxin on it played its role, quickly and completely integrated into the body tissue to spread and destroy. The body that was so full of vitality just now stopped all vitality. Needless to say, struggling, even breathing, heartbeat, and every sign of life stopped immediately. In the blink of an eye, it was still a human being, but in the next blink of an eye, it was a lump of meat waiting to rot and maggots.

The saber is tempered with poison extracted from the tail of the scorpion master in the distant underground world of Nigan. As soon as this strange and violent toxin enters any living body, it will immediately paralyze all nerve tissues. Even if it cannot die, it will definitely not be able to move. It is the poison most favored by assassins. What's more, the poison on these three knives is enough to kill ten of the strongest horses.

The three corpses fell upright, making a sound like wood hitting, but in the blink of an eye, their bodies were completely stiff. The young man who was not too drunk just took a step back with his companion on his side, and pushed drunkenly. The three sensitive, solid and experienced assassins collided with each other, and their knives stabbed into each other. Companion's body.

A dozen or so black figures flashed silently in the surrounding darkness, and their professional steps and movements made their actions silent. These people all held the same dagger in their hands, and they all had the same green light. Seeing their companions lying there upright in a strange posture, there was no movement in the eyes of these people, and they stared at the two people surrounded by them with the same straight eyes as the corpse.

It was not until these people stopped that a person came out from the darkness. This man was tall and tall, not wearing black clothes, as if he was reluctant to hide his overbearing muscles. He was holding a huge sword that matched his figure, and every step he stepped on the ground had a sword that matched his figure. footsteps. If it weren't for the bandages on his face, he would be like a mighty giant spirit god.

The man carefully looked at the two people surrounded by his eyes through the gap in the bandage. The culprit who had put him in the bandage looked so drunk that he had to be supported by his companions to stand. And even though this companion had knocked down the three assassins, he still looked slightly drunk, it wasn't just pretending.

"Who are you?" He stared at the slightly drunk man, the bandages made him unable to speak clearly. He waved. "Well, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter who it is, kill him for me. Don't kill the drunk one, I will deal with him personally." All the men in black around jumped on him.

The people around here are all well-professed professional assassins, hired by his uncle from other countries with a lot of money, and these secret weapons will only be used in extreme cases. Killing such a half-drunk man would never be a problem. As for that drunk, I have to keep it for myself and deal with it slowly. First pick out the tendons in the hands and feet, and then catch him back...

But immediately, even his somewhat troubled head realized that something was wrong. Even though this man was empty-handed, even though he was a little drunk, he managed to survive the attacks of these dozen or so professional assassins with ease. He grabbed an assassin's hand with one hand, and the joints in his hand made a cracking sound as lightly as twisting clothes.

The assassin who had his wrist broken had just let out a small moan before it stopped immediately, because his body was used as a shield, and the several daggers inserted into it made his voice as stiff and stagnant as his body in an instant.

Then the human-shaped shield immediately played a huge role in the user's hand. At the same time that he was stabbed a few more times, he also stabbed an accomplice with his hand in the assassination posture, and then swung sideways, his legs stiff as wood hit the accomplice who rushed up from the side, with the sound of bones breaking sounded.

The assassins are all masters of coordinated operations, and they all use the strides and formations they have honed over time to continuously assassinate the man in the middle, but this man's body is wandering around like a string of flowers among the flying daggers . It was as if the attacks of the dozen or so people around him were all arranged for his dodge. He had already known every movement of everyone, and while dodging like running water, the corpse that was as stiff as wood was left in his hand. Blocking the right thrust, the assassin kept making the sound of bones breaking under this strange weapon or was stabbed by the dagger attached to the shield, and fell straight down.

When the human-shaped weapon swept the two assassins out with a powerful sweep, and the other was stabbed by a dagger and fell straight, the big man standing next to him finally understood the situation. He raised the giant sword in his hand and wanted to rush up to join the battle group, but he looked at the target lying on the ground that he was about to deal with slowly, and rushed towards the meat on the chopping board. He didn't forget that this was the real person to deal with, while that person was still dealing with the remaining assassins. He raised the huge sword high and slashed towards the target. Under this guy weighing more than a hundred kilograms and his brute force, the human body would be as delicate as a flower petal.

'Boom'. The stone slabs on the ground flew. Strangely, he didn't feel the feeling of chopping bones and crushing muscles, and he didn't hear the sound of flesh cracking. Only a strange chill in the throat.

Then a warm current surged up, and every part of the throat felt this weird heat wave, and there was some tingling in it. This warm current even began to flow out of the body, extending down the skin.

The opponent who was sleeping on the ground drunk like a dead dog has stood up. Not only did he stand up, but he stood there with piercing eyes, sober like an apple washed clean in ice water, with blood still dripping from the sword in his hand. It was blood in his throat.

He dropped the sword, clutched his throat and stepped back, as if he could escape the horrible reality in front of him. But the blood in the veins was still gushing out happily, trying hard to pass through the surrounding fingers, and some of it poured into the trachea, which made him want to cough, but he couldn't cough, he could only make some strange gurgles sound.

That sturdy body is now a dry grass in the cold wind, trembling violently along with the terrible voice in his throat. He retreated to the edge of the wall, his thick legs could no longer support his body, and he sat down along the edge of the wall, the grunt in his throat and the trembling of his body receded along with the blood flowing from his fingers, and finally stopped . Hands soaked in blood slipped down his throat.

Asa threw the humanoid weapon in his hand, and the last assassin flew out under the forceful impact of his accomplice's dead body. More than a dozen assassins were already lying on the ground. He turned around and saw his companion who had just successfully killed his opponent.

Rod Hart stared blankly at Strike who was sitting in the corner. This incomparable nobleman, the opponent he fought so vigorously during the day, is now a piece of dead flesh.

In the faint light of the torches scattered on the ground, that tyrannical face was still frozen in extreme fear, and the skin lacked blood was loose and deformed, revealing a disgusting white like chalk. Contrasted with this disgusting color, the bright red under the throat is not only the evidence of the last life of this ****, but also the label of death. The wound in the throat was split open and turned up a little, like a smiling mouth, but the tube inside could be vaguely seen.

Rod Hart's face was already distorted. He suddenly dropped the sword, took a step back, squeezed the hand holding the sword twice, and then rubbed his hands together, as if he wanted to rub off the remaining touch. But the soft and clear feeling of cutting the throat just now is still there, not only in the hand, but also along the arm and rushing straight into the heart. He turned his head to look at Asa, and opened his mouth, as if trying to squeeze out a relaxed smile, but that handsome face was full of distorted pain and disgust.

He suddenly bent over and began to vomit.

Killing people is not an easy thing to do. If someone really doesn't feel anything, it can only mean that he is a piece of wood. If someone still finds it very enjoyable, it means that he is as mentally ill as the kind of person who has a lot of fun with his own shit.

Rodhart vomited hard, hard. There was already nothing in his stomach, and every time he drank a little wine at the banquet just now, he sneaked out and vomited it up. But he was still trying to vomit, his stomach convulsing violently, as if trying to squeeze out the rest of his guts and all the nasty sensations. This young hero who was still high-spirited just now, the hero that everyone is looking forward to, is now vomiting like a dog. Finally he managed to squeeze something out of his stomach, which was bile.

He vomited all the gall, twitched a few times, and took a few breaths. Rodhart seemed to be relieved at last. Panting, he straightened up and wiped his mouth. He turned to look at Asa, showing a A little embarrassed smile said: "It's the first time to kill someone with your own hands, to kill a real person like yourself. It's really uncomfortable and disgusting."

He wiped his face with his hand. Although he was still embarrassed, his smile returned to that kind and charming one. After this extreme exhaustion, he still appeared confident, as if a good student faced with difficulties had made up his mind to overcome a difficult study problem. "But it doesn't matter, these are like measles, and you will get used to them slowly in the future." He looked at the corpses on the ground, and there were several half-dead assassins moaning. "So I said I must help you. If I was alone, I would probably die. You saved me again."

Asa looked at the corpses on the ground and frowned, and asked: "Why do you insist on me to help you deal with this assassination? Why don't you just tell the ministers in the military about the prime minister's bribe of you. They will naturally think There is no way to protect you, or simply use this to deal with the prime minister. Now he intends to kill you, isn't this more powerful evidence?"

"It's not the time yet. This handle can't bring him down, I'm just saying my own words." Even thinking about these methods, his friendly and supple face always has a naive taste on it, making him look Like a little kid confident in his tricks. "The key is that I have already dealt with this assassination but I still don't report him. This way he knows that I don't want to be his enemy, and he also understands that I am not easy to deal with. Naturally, he will have scruples about me. Don't dare to act rashly. If you have the psychological advantage, things will be much easier in the future... Maybe you can have more friends, which is much better than multiple enemies."

"You have changed." Asa sighed. I remember that he was still an ignorant teenager when he was in Ai Li, but now in comparison, he seems to be as naive as a child.

"Because I have matured. I no longer indulge in my fantasy, and I already know how to face the real world." Rodhart looked at Asa and smiled, the wound on his lip was still there . "You taught me how to face this cruel world."

Asa had mixed feelings, shook her head, not knowing what to say, and sighed again. His mood fell to the bottom with this sigh.

Suddenly a strange and huge chill penetrated from the back to the whole body. It seemed that countless ice needles suddenly pierced through the skin and muscles, rushed into the spine and pierced into the bone marrow. Asa jumped forward with all his strength, turned around mid-air, and there was already a huge river formed by lightning in front of him.

'poof'. Rod Hart next to him only heard a sound now. A black figure flashed out from the darkness and stepped on the head of an assassin who was still moaning, and the head immediately exploded powerfully. With the power of this kick, the man turned into a black lightning that merged with the darkness, and struck towards Asa with that sharp white tip.

Can't hide. die. This is the thought that appeared in Asa's mind for a moment.

This ray of light that can divide the entire night into two is already in front of us. Like a torrential river from the sky, it condenses all the majesty for a hundred years, and then flows eastward to the sea without returning. The impassioned and impassioned will drown everything in front of it, sweep away and twist everything.

Even though Asa was already flying back, the blow that had been accumulated for a long time still flew in front of him at an irreparable speed.

I don't know how long this sword has been silently brewing in the darkness. He didn't expose his sharpness until the target's spirit was relaxed, his body was relaxed, and his reaction was the slowest.

Asa's body was already in the air, without any weapon in his hand, he could only wait for the call of death in front of him to approach little by little. All the sensations are extremely sharp, he watched the tip of the sword getting closer and closer to him little by little...he could even feel the skin on his face start to crumble under the sword energy , it seemed that it was about to burst immediately, and the muscles and bones underneath would disintegrate like rotten wood. His head would burst under the sword aura, splashing around the surrounding ground and walls like a tomato... ..

I don't want to die.

Asa roared. All the strength, spirit, fear of death and desire for life are concentrated in the hands.

He caught the bolt of lightning that was about to smash him to pieces. All his life was concentrated in his hand, it was no longer a simple action, but to use all his life to fight against death. His hands glowed with a white light.

The blade squeezed forward bit by bit between the skin between the fingers. The power between the fingers and palms was rushing, roaring silently, squeezing desperately, pulling the deadly sharpness.

The tip of the sword finally stopped when it was about to reach between the eyebrows.

The two landed at the same time, Asa continued to retreat, and the man in black continued to press forward. The two of them advanced and retreated, galloping down the dark long street, every step weighed more than a thousand pounds, and stones and mud kept flying under their feet.

Finally, the blade couldn't withstand the powerful squeeze from both sides, and with a groan after the limit, it shattered into countless tiny pieces.

The moment the sword shattered, the man in black started to jump backwards, stepping on the body of another seriously injured assassin, the sound of bone breaking sounded, and then he bounced back, throwing the last assassin's body Life ends cleanly underfoot. After a few vertical leaps, he completely disappeared into the night before dawn. It was as abrupt as when it appeared, without leaving a trace of sound, as if it was just a phantom emerging from the gloom, only flashed for a moment, and the power of fear of death returned to nothingness immediately.

Asa stood there in a daze. He could hear his own heartbeat, and the blood dripping from between his brows slowly flowed down the side of his nose. The skin was not damaged, but the underlying muscles and blood vessels were ruptured.

Sword qi, pure sword qi, does not contain the slightest magic, and does not need magic. Not a killer, a killer doesn't use a sword like that, this is a real swordsman.

This is also a real master. This person completely mixed his breath and sound into other people, and he may have noticed it, but he didn't notice it at all. He has been lurking without the slightest agitation, until the best opportunity to make a move, and only at that moment did he show his murderous intent. If he missed a single blow, he immediately retreated without the slightest hesitation. Quick decision.

"Who the **** is that?" Rodhart just walked over, staring blankly at the direction in which the person disappeared. He was completely shocked by this sword. He is also a swordsman. He could see the cultivation level contained in this sword. He murmured: "This is the last real assassin..."

"Not an assassin." Asa looked at his palm. The palm was not broken or injured, but some skin was torn and blood came out. He shook his head and muttered. "Not an assassin..."

"Why not..." Rodhart was puzzled.

"If that sword stabs you, can you avoid it?" Asa said.

Rod Hart's face turned pale, he swallowed, and replied with certainty: "Dead."

Asa said coldly: "Yes, you are dead. I can't stop that sword. Don't forget, you are the real target of their assassination. As long as you die, their mission will be completed No. My life and death are none of their business. Could it be that an assassin with that kind of skill doesn’t even have this bit of judgment? So he’s not the assassin who’s going to deal with you. He’s coming after me.” A trace of dangerous and mysterious atmosphere made every nerve and every thought of him feel full of energy. This feeling even made him a little excited, like a wolf far away from the wilderness smelling blood again.

Asa walked over to pick up the sword hilt dropped by the man on the ground. This is just an ordinary long sword, which can be bought anywhere in the capital. If it was a good sword, a sword that matched that skill, what would the result be? I had already tried my best to block it just now.

Why doesn't this person use a sword that belongs to him?

If he wasn't with those assassins, how could he know and use this assassination? Also, why did he kill himself at this time? What would happen if he died now? The assassination of the priest is a major event. After careful investigation, you will immediately know the origin of these killers. The key is that Rod Hart will naturally tell everything under such circumstances, and he is indeed squeezed out again. The position of the Prime Minister's son... There is really no more suitable murderer than the Prime Minister in this world, but Asa knows that he is not. Who else? Who else?

Asa sighed and cursed in a low voice. But I am also a little happy that I have regained my intellectual confidence.

The next day, when the Prime Minister learned that his nephew had gathered his men to take revenge on the newly promoted knight for losing the game, he immediately became furious and angrily denounced the family for such a scum. Fortunately, that knight was very skilled and happened to have a priest of the church present, so this despicable plot did not succeed.

The Prime Minister immediately asked His Majesty the Emperor for the crime of incompetent discipline, but His Majesty the Emperor has always been very sensible, knowing that this was the behavior of the loser with corrupt morals, so he did not blame the Prime Minister. The prime minister personally apologized to the knight in front of everyone. So the matter seemed to be resolved peacefully. It seems that the Prime Minister and this excellent knight have established a friendship.

The School of Magic held an official inauguration ceremony for the new priest. This priest is also very young and excellent, and was personally recommended by the bishop. This is an unprecedented precedent, and the politicians have a keen sense of smell to detect this extraordinary omen. He is also good friends with the commoner hero knight, and the already aroused emotion of being a hero has been pushed to a new peak. If he went to the battlefield to make a contribution this time, he would be able to skyrocket even more.

This lord priest is about to go to the western front, and many of the people who came to see him off were princes and ministers.

The Lord Duke is naturally indispensable for such an occasion. He still has such a slightly fat figure, is dressed in gorgeous clothes, wears a hat that matches him well, and has a handful of jewels inlaid in his waist. , a gorgeous and somewhat vulgar sword. The smile on his face is the brightest, the best-looking, and the most expressive of kindness and gentleness among all the people. The originally friendly facial features are purely friendly, friendly, and friendly.

Behind this friendly face, you can't see anything else at all. The invisible danger is the most dangerous~IndoMTL.com~If that slightly fat body is put on a night suit, can it be as agile as a suit? Lightning in the night?

The duke came up to shake Asa's hand and wished him a good journey. The calluses on the Duke's tiger's mouth and the base of his fingers were thick. What would it be like if such a hand firmly held the seemingly decorative sword at his waist? Is it possible to send out a blow like lightning in the clear sky of the surging river? Thinking of this, Asa's heart beat very hard, and he even wanted to immediately verify what would happen if he faced such a blow head-on.

But this is obviously not possible, at least until the bishop is done with this troublesome help before he can restore his previous freedom to do whatever he wants. Now he can only smile and say to the Duke: "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Where is it? It's an honor to make friends with such an outstanding person as the priest. We will definitely have a chance to have a good relationship after you come back." The Duke said enthusiastically.

"It's a pity that there are not many good opportunities like last night." Asa whispered in his ear. The Duke's eyes looked very strange. Then Asa sighed again, and said, "Actually, you don't have to worry too much, I will never get in your way. I don't bother to care about these things."

Ten days later, Asa returned to Bracada again.