The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Volley shooting is one of the best ways to deal with large enemies.

Thick white gunpowder smoke formed a curtain on the edge of the stair railing, and the monster behind the curtain backed upside down as if drunk.

Not all of the twelve shotguns hit it, but at least half of the pellets hit it.

Clayton saw it stand sideways after seeing the musket, and at the same time, its huge palms were protecting its head. Under the loose wet blond hair, there were a few holes with smooth edges on the waxy skin, but no blood flowed out, and none of the bullets hit its vitals.

Now comes the hard part.

The leatherworker didn't fall completely, and the guns of the patrol members had all been fired. The reloading speed of the old-fashioned shotgun was slower than the walking speed of a snail, and the leatherworker seemed to have the power to fight.

But the patrols were not unprepared for this.

The old hunter with the goatee shouted, "Bring out the holy water, lads!"

The patrol members took out glass bottles and poured holy water in the lobby without restraint. It was not the frightening leathermaker who was the first to be drenched, but a friendly werewolf. Out of the psychology of protecting the other party, they took special care of the stranger who stood in front of them.

Clayton's body trembled.

The human form of the werewolf is not directly harmed by the holy water, but is also weakened by it.

His strength was rapidly declining, and the resistance to the foreign curse was no longer restrained, it was like a tweezer stirring in his body, but he couldn't show discomfort in front of everyone.

"Donna! Go upstairs!"

He yelled at his niece, still pointing the point of his sword at the leathermaker, but backed away slowly to the goatee.

The leatherworker was also doused with holy water, his waxy flesh was almost melting, and he fell opposite him and struggled in pain. The tables and chairs were easily knocked over by his writhing deformed body, and he looked much weaker than Clayton.

But he still didn't make a move.

Donna ran up the stairs behind him, turned back to look at him uneasily at the landing.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Goatee muttered dissatisfiedly after hearing her question: "We are here, what can happen to him?"

He didn't just talk, he dropped the musket as soon as he complained, caught the short spear thrown by the young man who came after him, poured holy water on it, then handed the short spear to his right hand, pressed his left hand on the railing and jumped down to Clayton's side, his skill was more vigorous than the average young man.

Anyone who can still be a hunter at this age has some skills.

Spearmanship is his specialty.

Since the popularity of musket hunting in the countryside, there are not many people who are willing to practice spear hunting. In this era, all those who are still practicing spear hunting are elite hunters and industry elites who pursue perfect hunting.

The vitality of most wild animals is stronger than that of humans. As long as they are not hit by muskets, they may still escape from the hunter's palm after being shot.Animals that can escape with spears in their bodies are hardly ever heard of.

A skilled spearman can even stop a running wild boar with a stab, or pierce a leopard's eye socket without hurting its fur.

Goatee is such a good spearman.

Clayton glanced at him briefly, and realized the fact without saying a word—the goatee's skilled posture and confident expression would not lie, it was the expression that only after many victories can be possessed.

Although the leatherworker was once a human being, his posture has become closer to that of a beast, so the hunter's past experience will naturally come in handy.

"You go up too." Goatee ordered.

The lieutenant moved sideways, bypassing the railing of the stairs, his eyes and the point of his sword still pointing at the leatherworker.

"Be careful it breaks through the main gate." He reminded the old hunter in a low voice.

The gunners on the stairs and the gunners in front of the main entrance on the first floor are both reloading, and the gunners coming from the backyard still have a chance to fire. Clayton doesn't know how the leatherworker's intelligence compares with humans, but if he is placed in this position, he will only break through to the main entrance.

Returning to the backyard was through a short, narrow corridor in which there was little room for the leatherworker's body to dodge, an opportunity the backyard shooter would not miss.

The main entrance has the fewest people, and the leatherworker can get out without killing those three people.

Once outside, it can climb to the high roofs, and the old-fashioned muskets used by these gunmen are no longer a threat to it.

The goatee nodded imperceptibly, then took steps to the right, ready to block the main entrance.

The two men moved to the right at the same time, but their speeds and positions gradually changed. Clayton needed to back up at the end of the railing, while the old hunter needed to walk forward to the right. When the goatee moved to the front of him, Clayton finally put down his long sword, turned his head and quickened his pace to go upstairs, leaving the fight to the locals.

However, when his figure missed behind the goatee, the struggling leathermaker suddenly stopped struggling,

Under the weird palm, a mechanical coldness flashed in the pure black eyeballs exposed between the fingers.

Its left hand covered its face with one hand, its snake-like and gecko-like body lay down again, its anti-jointed legs were firmly attached to the ground, and the pointed five-pointer of its right hand pressed on the ground.

Almost instantly, it was in front of Goatee.

But the old hunter reacted faster than his apprentices. After realizing the monster's movement, the short spear in his hand also stabbed in anticipation.

The short spear held by the goatee is the standard of the boar spear. There are horizontal lugs on both sides of the spear head to prevent it from piercing too deep into the prey and making it difficult to pull out. Therefore, the user can more easily draw the spear for multiple piercing attacks.

However, this convenient design prevents the old hunter from causing deeper damage to the fierce prey in front of him.

The sharp metal spear head completely pierced the white tough flesh, but this alienated monster didn't pay attention to the wound and the person who made the wound at all. It didn't even try to dodge, but just kept moving forward under the surprised eyes of the goatee, allowing the spear blade to cut through its body to the end.

It ignored the entire row of patrolmen next to it, and its awl-like fingers pointed straight behind Creighton, who hadn't realized that he was the target.

This scene completely fell into the eyes of Donna Bello.

She didn't care about hiding anymore, and suddenly raised her finger to the leatherworker, and she chanted a spell sharply and sharply, with a dozen syllables almost condensed into two voices.

An invisible force erupted behind the leatherworker, dragging it backwards.

Although this power did not last long, it also gave Creighton a chance to react.

The space on the stairs was not suitable for dodging, and he would not allow the battle line to be so close to Donna.So he turned around and stepped down off the stairs, at the same time making a vertical slash with the long sword.

This sword not only used the strength of his whole body, but also increased his weight from top to bottom. Even if his strength declined to the level of a mortal, it would still be enough to injure the opponent.

At the junction of the vertical scratches, a corner of the sticky skin stained with blood and bullet holes was raised, revealing the flesh-colored skin underneath, which is no different from ordinary people.

"Damn it, it's got a coat on it!" Goatee yelled.

It is only now that people have discovered the truth.

The leatherworker's body surface was covered with a layer of specially tanned leather, which seemed to be blessed by some kind of evil force. This layer of protection blocked the holy water, as well as the goatee and Creighton's spear and sword attack. Even the bullets of the musket were taken away by it.

When the patrol members saw this scene, their loading movements were a little slow.

"Continue to charge!"

With a loud cry, the old hunter straightened his short spear, and thrust it into the monster's shoulder blade with all his strength.

Even if the spearhead is relatively short, as long as the joint is stuck, the mobility of its right hand can still be abolished.

Clayton had never communicated with him how to cooperate with melee combat before, but at this moment he threw out again with a tacit understanding, and the long sword pressed towards the eyes of the leather craftsman.

The monster raised its right hand subconsciously, pulling the joint gap at the back of the shoulder to the maximum, and the goatee's wild boar spear pierced it directly, locking its right hand in a state where it could only stretch forward but could not exert force.

"Cut off" the goatee shouted, but before he finished shouting, Clayton cut off the long handle of the wild boar spear with a sword as if predicting.

The leatherworker's upper body fell down, and its two hind legs kicked the ground, but it still couldn't maintain its balance.

Its left hand still has strength, but it is impossible to pull out the metal spear point that affects its movement. No matter how hard it tries to reach back, it can't reach the short part on the right shoulder, and the structure of the spear point can't shake out of the wound by hitting foreign objects.

Unless someone helps, it will never be able to retract its right hand in this life.

The excellent cooperation made Clayton a little more confident. He raised his long sword again and slashed at the leathermaker's neck.

After the long sword cut through the pale white leather, it moved aside without any resistance, instead of cutting into it, only because the flesh and blood inside was gone.

The leathermaker used this pair of "armor" to attract Clayton's attention, but he himself escaped from the back of the leather bag and retreated to the original center of the hall. Only then did people see its true colors.

Its skin finally became a little more bloody, but it made it look even weirder. The wound in the middle of its face was bleeding outwards, and the cobweb-like purple bloodshots made it difficult to see its features. There was no hair on the top of its head. The hair on the previous layer of shell probably came from the scalp of a certain victim.

However, with such an injury, it never paid attention to the damage to its own goatee, but kept staring at Clayton, which made the old hunter suspicious.

"Do you know it?"

The antique dealer shook his head decisively: "I've never seen it look like this before."

"It may not look the same as it did when it was a human being."

"Then of course I wouldn't recognize it."

The goatee stopped asking, and he also realized that his question was a bit ridiculous, not to mention that this outsider had been in Revo for less than half a month, and the "beast" had been raging for much longer than that.

As if realizing that the goal was impossible to achieve, the leathermaker didn't want to stay here any longer. It limped and turned around, rushing towards the main entrance.

The three patrols guarding the main entrance have now reloaded their shotguns.

Without the protection of its "skin", its body was crumbling under the baptism of bullets, but it managed to throw itself against the door.

The door just opened outwards, and it fell before a black robe.