The azure sword aura sliced through the flying spear, and Alvin flickered his figure, colliding with the man wielding a greatsword.
The longsword and greatsword clashed, neither losing an inch!
The surge of air currents from their strike made it impossible for anyone to get close at once.
With a swordsman like Alvin blocking the way, ordinary people could only watch from the sidelines.
The knights didn’t choose to charge through but instead surrounded the carriage, guarding against any potential ambushes.
Sure enough, a shadow slid along the ground at an incredible speed, heading straight for the carriage.
Using the cover of darkness, in the blink of an eye, the figure darted from fifty meters away in the crowd to just three or five meters from the carriage, riding a gust of cold wind.
Beneath the black cloak, a pair of sharp black daggers gleamed.
Dark purple magic light shimmered over the magic blades, forming a cross-shaped slash aimed at the carriage.
The moment the rainbow-edged blades touched the carriage, wood and iron shattered.
A figure emerged from the flying debris and landed on a nearby clearing — a girl with pale golden hair.
She was cradling a graceful lady in a princess carry.
The assassin twisted her dual swords and dodged several powerful strikes from the fully armored knights.
They were the elite of the elite, but this assassin was too slippery; the heavy greatsword couldn’t land a hit.
After putting some distance between them, the black-cloaked assassin lightly touched the ground with her toes, turning toward the mother and daughter pair, intent on finishing the mission as quickly as possible.
The knights naturally knew the targets were Phil and Miss Rosily.
They all dismounted, either stepping forward to block or attacking the black-cloaked assassin directly.
Rosily gently set her mother down.
Phil’s soft hips touched the ground first. She lifted her gaze toward her daughter, Rosily, who had just pulled her out during the attack.
She could only say: as expected of my own daughter!
So cool!
Rosily said proudly.
“Mom, I’m capable now.”
“B-But… that’s not something you can handle…”
“Just trust me!”
“I… I’m your mother, how… sigh…”
Phil feigned hesitation but ultimately bit her lip, lowered her eyes, and nodded.
After receiving her mother’s approval, Rosily took a deep breath and summoned the silver longsword from her ring.
She turned around to face the terrifying aura of the black-cloaked assassin.
One assassin against eight knights, yet she wasn’t losing ground. She even left marks on the knights’ armor — cuts that kept oozing blood.
Rosily whispered to her sword, “Cang, do you have any ideas?”
She didn’t hear a response from Cang, but in fact—
Cang: She’s watching, I dare not speak!
The girl’s heart pounded wildly.
Just as the black-cloaked assassin knocked another knight away and broke through the defense line toward the mother and daughter, she suddenly stopped.
Thud!
The sound of something soft hitting the ground.
Alvin, blood staining half his body, swung his sword at the black-cloaked assassin, who crossed her swords in defense.
Their clashing magic—one blue, one purple—whipped up a wild gale.
Rosily stood in front of her mother, using magic to shield her from the residual force of the collision, but even that made her miserable.
Her physical strength was already enough to go toe-to-toe with a Fourth-Tier Puppet.
But Rosily’s progress in magic power was painfully slow.
She felt as if something was blocking her inside, preventing her from freely drawing on Origin Magic Power like Elqi could.
“Damn it, why is my magic cultivation so slow?” “Is it because my body’s too strong?”
Rosily didn’t understand why her mother, a delicate woman, could give birth to such a powerful daughter.
Elqi had mentioned that Rosily had an incredible combat adaptability, as if inheriting someone’s experience.
Could it be from her “father’s” side?
In the school library, she had found books explaining how to give birth, understood how she came to be, and realized she seemed to have a “father” who had abandoned his wife and daughter.
“Wait, now’s not the time to think about that.”
A turbulent wave of nightmare magic surged in.
Rosily swung Cang, cleaving through the residual energy that could easily rip the ground apart.
Enya’s golden-red Dragon Eyes glanced at the white mist stretching like mountains in the distance, then at the battlefield beneath her feet.
She clearly distinguished where the main battlefield was; for now, she could afford to put that aside.
She looked at Rosily on the ground—the girl gripping Cang tightly, always protecting Phil from any harm.
Phil sat sideways on the ground, gazing up at the sky.
Their eyes met. Enya smiled softly, while Phil shot her a questioning look—what exactly was her intention?
Enya had revoked Phil’s Dream World privileges, truly turning Madam Phil into a fragile woman who could only rely on her daughter for protection.
Phil: “Damn you! Just you wait!”
Enya ignored her.
Those Dragon Eyes stared carefully at the battlefield below, focusing especially on her daughter’s performance.
Suddenly, Rosily noticed something.
She glanced toward the shattered carriage.
She looked around again but saw only insignificant bystanders watching the “immortal battle” from a hundred meters away, and two lifeless bodies lying on the ground.
The girl clearly remembered their group of twelve: the maid had stayed at home to help watch over things, the carriage held only her and her mother, there were eight knights plus Alvin…
And one carriage driver!
“Sorry, Madam Phil, Miss Rosily.”
A chill ran down Phil’s neck.
She was furious.
Enya was supposedly part of her, yet what was she doing? How could she revoke her permissions like that?
Ugh, I’m doomed!
As the Incarnation of Falsehood, Phil could repair herself over time even if damaged, but that didn’t mean she could just throw herself away recklessly.
Rosily swung Cang around but only carved a shallow scratch on the hand reaching for Phil’s neck.
The carriage driver withdrew his hand.
Enya spoke softly in her mind:
“Cang.”
As her voice fell, Rosily heard a lofty female voice from the silver-gray longsword.
“Young mistress, watch carefully. This is how I use it!”
Rosily saw a tall gray-haired woman step beside her, grasp her sword hand, and guide her body forward.
One strike, two strikes, three strikes, four strikes, five strikes!
The burly carriage driver continuously retreated.
Though he dodged the sword tips by mere inches, his protective magic was fully active.
Yet the girl’s sword could break through every defense.
This silver-gray sword aura was strangely peculiar?!
Five long sword scars opened across his chest, blood spraying uncontrollably.
No matter how he used his magic to try to seal the wounds, it was all in vain.
He was furious.
“I’m a thoroughly forged Fifth-Tier, and I can’t even beat a First-Tier genius?”
The carriage driver’s anger surged, his whole body tensing.
Nearby, Rosily heard the proud voice from Cang in her ear.
“Cang means gray-white; I am decay and death!” “So cool!”
Rosily smiled happily but didn’t relax her focus, treating the formidable enemy before her seriously.
With her mother behind her, just like the last Magic Puppet battle, she once again faced the necessity of confronting the enemy head-on.
After seeing Rosily’s decent performance, Enya smiled with relief, then glanced at the other battlefield.
Alvin and the assassin were locked in a deadly struggle.
The situation there was grim. Alvin had exhausted a lot of energy trying to kill the enemy quickly.
In a drawn-out fight, a swordsman going toe-to-toe with an assassin showed just how formidable that assassin was.
When they broke apart, the black-cloaked assassin chuckled.
“Not bad, mortal blood.”
Alvin held his sword in stance, glanced at the traitorous carriage driver, exhaled heavily, and gathered all his magic power.
The black-cloaked assassin leaned backward, his bones cracking slightly, then straightened, revealing the sheep skull mask beneath his hood.
“Now, I’ll get serious.”
His aura suddenly surged, firmly suppressing Alvin.
Rosily was shocked by the sudden magical outburst, leaning forward.
Though she caught herself in time, it gave the carriage driver a huge opportunity.
The burly carriage driver charged forward.
Enya narrowed her eyes, whispering to herself: “If I don’t go down now, I’m out of the game?”
“Perfect for a warm-up.”
Her silver-black pendant on her long ears transformed into a full set of armor, covering her entire body, leaving only the Dragon Horns, Dragon Wings, and Dragon Tail exposed.
Then she flipped upside down in midair.
With a single flap of those black bone and red-membrane dragon wings, Enya transformed into a falling meteor.
The carriage driver’s massive body slammed into the ground, creating a deep crater. Rosily nearby felt her feet leave the ground.
She felt suspended in the air, only after a moment did gravity return.
The tremor caused a crowd of onlookers to lose their footing and fall.
When they got up, they dropped their weapons and fled.
These people had only been paid to hold the surface; naturally, they wouldn’t risk their lives.
Now that the boss was dead and a terrifying new powerhouse appeared…
Running was the only choice.
Phil was slammed by Enya’s shockwave, flipping once in the air before landing hard on her peach-shaped hips. She gasped sharply in pain.
A hand clutched her back as she glared fiercely at Enya.
“My tailbone!”
Rosily gripped Cang, staring dumbfounded at the strange armored figure. The silver armor paired with the black dragon ensemble was insanely cool.
“You…”
Enya gave Phil a glance.
Though Phil was displeased with her behavior, she forced down her emotions and stood up, embracing her trembling daughter.
They were like two halves of a whole; Phil understood Enya’s temperament.
Enya seemed like a normal woman at first, but once fighting started, it was as if she was on drugs—one word summed her up—
Crazy!
Meanwhile, Alvin’s left arm had been severed, blood gushing. The gap between him and the black-cloaked assassin wasn’t about skill but sheer level difference.
Spitting blood, the middle-aged man, who had been idling as a teacher for a year or two, smiled with relief despite his broken arm.
The assassin didn’t press the advantage to kill Alvin outright but turned his attention to the new arrival.
A pair of horns, a set of wings, a tail.
This armored figure was definitely not human. What kind of existence? What faction?
The black-cloaked assassin flicked blood off his twin black daggers and said to Enya,
“I am Dark Hall’s Sheep Bone.”
“Huh?”
Enya lowered her voice and waved her hand dismissively, “What’s that? Don’t know him.”
…
As Enya spoke, the black-cloaked assassin teleported in an instant, stabbing his right dagger straight at Enya’s forehead. An assassin must learn to create openings.
Boom!
The assassin found himself staring at a strange ceiling, head spinning.
“Where is this?”
“Wasn’t I just completing the assassination? Right, killing that mother and daughter pair…”
“I remember fighting an armored figure.”
…Did I get knocked away?”
He touched his chest, feeling as if several ribs were broken. Rising from the rubble of stone, Sheep Bone finally recalled what had happened.
A flash step in close, a stabbing attack, then a black whip cracked across his chest, sending him flying into a nearby villa.
He staggered to his feet and walked out of the hole.
Sheep Bone saw Enya still standing there, seemingly waiting for something.
An unnamed fire burned in his heart.
Dark Hall assassins had only two endings: complete the mission or die in battle!
Enya lifted her head slightly, her thoughts already on the other battlefield, where the climax was approaching.
She summoned a longsword from the ground, gripping it as she faced the shadowy figure before her.