People are forbidden by magic, just become mercenaries

The projectile was activated again, and quickly flew towards the cheek of Anne who was pounced forward.

It didn't take the next second for Anne Honeyman to suffer the same fate as Federico.

The skull was pierced by metal projectiles, and then turned into a white mist and retreated from the stage.

"checkmate (General)!"

"Subject Transfer: Westcott!"

The dry gunshot of "pong" and the dull sound of being hit almost "dong" appeared almost at the same time, although it was not so obvious under the cover of the gunshot.

Sigurd's second shot still hit the enemy, but his attack did not hit Anne Honeyman herself.

Anne Honeyman took a step back as if being pushed back by someone, and at the same time, someone appeared from nowhere and stepped forward to stop between the muzzle of the gun and the lady.

The man used his chest to block the fatal blow for the woman almost without hesitation.

Originally, Sigurd raised his gun temporarily, so the target of this blow was originally Anne Honeyman's throat.

At this time, the man was taller than Annie, so the shot really hit his chest.

Although it was quite normal for men of that era to protect ladies, or not to do so would be looked down upon, accusing him of being sorry for his neat suit.

But it is undeniable that this gesture of chivalry looks so weird and creepy.

The match between the two is so uncoordinated.

Such an unnatural scene even made Sigurd rarely reveal a look of astonishment.

The man who was hit in the chest fell backwards due to the impact of the projectile, and Annie, who had taken a step back, immediately grabbed the man's arm and took him away from Sigurd's side as well.

In less than two seconds of confrontation, everything that happened was so bizarre.

"Well, Westcott?"

The woman named Annie didn't seem to have anything special to say to this man who gave up his life to block the gun for herself, but shook the other's head, without the feeling that her companion died at all.

"Cough cough..."

Coughing twice, the old man named Westcott actually stood firm. The part of his chest that was pierced was obviously gray, like the flesh and blood of a living human body after being hit. People feel unhappy.

In other words, the silver-plated projectile with the effect of "dispelling demons" just now should have indeed hit the opponent.

"I really don't have any plans to be merciful. If the old man didn't die so easily, I'm afraid the problem would be a little bigger."

"Well, after all, with your 'semi-immortality', this level of attack is not a problem at all~"

"Annie, although I know that I won't die because of this level of attack, but as a companion, I still hope you can feel it. After all, I was also hit by a bullet?"

"Yes, then let's go to the hotel for a drink tonight, my treat."

During the few conversations, Westcott reached into his body, trying to pull out the bullet that had been shot into it just now.

After a moment of groping, Sigurd simply held the two flintlock guns in his hands, and didn't even intend to reload them.

The pure white gun barrel in his left hand hit his shoulder. I don't know if it was a simple habitual movement or relaxation. The extra recoil brought by the unnatural shooting posture just now would probably put more burden on the arm, right?

"Ok?"

Westcott looked at his wound in a daze. The place he just hit was still not healed, but his expression was a little puzzled.

"You can't find it, because the bullet disintegrates the moment it hits your body..."

Seeming to be bored, Sigurd scratched his head impatiently with the warm barrel.

"Forget it, I've had enough. Then you two impostors, are you going to continue acting?"

"I don't deny that I am not who I am, but if you want to say that my magic is fake, then I can only say that you are still too young. Although our bodies are fake, our spirit... "

"You have a fart spirit, input the answer into the computer, and then let the computer answer a few questions that only the family members know, can this be called 'resurrection'? And..."

One finger points to the two members of the "Golden Dawn" who are waiting in battle.

Apart from impatience, Sigurd's tone was also somewhat unhappy.

"To be honest, I originally had the idea of ​​'look at the medicine you sell in your gourd', so I deliberately didn't destroy this enchantment. But your poor acting skills reproduce the people who used to be 'Golden Dawn'. It just... made me a little angry."

Still not reloading, but Sigurd has already pointed the muzzles of two flintlock guns at the two people in front of him.

"Let me tell you one last thing, Ms. Honeyman's 'Solomon's Column' is not for attacking, 'vulgar' things. She is... the most gorgeous of 'Golden Dawn' 'Back-up dancers', remember, idiots?"

It wasn't dry, but a rather silent sound appeared.

And in the ensuing magical turbulence, it wasn't just the fake dolls of the two fake members of the "Golden Dawn" that collapsed.

Like shattered glass, the surrounding scene of old London was completely shattered.

Lifting his gun, he turned around and walked into the path that appeared after the thick fog, Sigurd just left a simple sentence.

"May the glory be with you forever...Although you are just fakes..."

Chapter 130: Birdway and the Weird Druid

Moving on all the way, Sigurd did not encounter enough resistance again.

Whether the left and right walls fired some curse-type magic bullets, or a dry and smelly human head, Celtic-style "magic bullets" shot from the shadows in front, it didn't matter to this mercenary at all. influences.

You don't even need to specifically block it, just the windbreaker and the "silver cross" on the left and right cuffs are enough to completely absorb the opponent's attack.

Although it is undeniable that the power of each attack is not small, what cannot be ignored is that the specifications of these attacks are far inferior to those fake "Golden Dawn" spells just now.

"Those guys should have extracted the data from the head of 'Jack the Ripper' for every member of the 'Golden Dawn' who fought against him, and actually reproduced it, but it's a pity that there is no Mathers, otherwise they should be able to play for a while Son......"

The level of those "Golden Dawn" just now can't even reach half of the deity, such as Anne Honeyman and Robert William Felkin.

These two "golden" mages got their battle uniforms and the essence of their spells wrong. It was obvious that the two of them were only present at the time, and they were simply showing off. As a result, "Jack the Ripper" did not have any Enough data can complete the "setting" of the two.

Therefore, Robert William Felkin's "Barton Technique" movement was obviously impossible to appear at this time in [-], and the opponent probably saw this fighting technique that was very similar to "Barton Technique", so Subconsciously imported and completed the "Barton Technique" movement.

As for Anne Honeyman, it is probably because "Jack the Ripper" is not a threat to her and others at all, so she has no need to "back-up dance" to others, so the simple waving just now appeared. The bombing technique of black and white short sticks.

Although it is not to say that Anne Honeyman does not know how to use bombing techniques, but when she cooperates with her companions, and the "stage" and the building are completed, Anne Honeyman will definitely not rush into it all by herself. front.

Anne Horniman is the "backup dancer". She is not interested in personal achievement. Her way of fighting is to strengthen the strength of others and make the whole "stage play" more gorgeous.

Passing through the stone dome gate, Sigurd seems to have entered the core part of this magic association stronghold.

Compared with the previous narrow and damp passage, this place suddenly opened up.

Although there are still moss and vines around, the empty space is not so unacceptable. In fact, the smell of damp vines and moss is not too annoying for Sigurd.

At this time, Sigurd seems to be on the second floor, surrounded by a stone structure like a guardrail, covered with dense moss, vines, and other unknown plants.

"Each exit corresponds to a road when entering..."

Looking up to the opposite side, there is a stone gate that has the same structure as the one that Sigurd just passed, and there are many structures similar to "observation decks" on the surrounding walls.

The silent sound of "Boom" appeared, followed by the crisp crackling sound of ice cubes being crushed.

"Oh? Looks like I've been playing for too long? Has anyone arrived yet?"

When Sigurd was close to the guardrail, he stretched out his head and looked down, and found that there seemed to be a magician engaging in a firefight below.

The picture moves downwards. If the upper structure is like a "theatre", then the downward part should be said to be very much like the "Arena" in ancient Rome.

The area around ten meters high is full of thick walls, and probably the only door has been sealed and hidden by magic.

And among them are two people who are facing each other.

Judging from the mental state of the two parties and the situation of the venue, the two parties probably just tested each other. Although they sacrificed their spiritual outfits and props to each other, the real contest has not yet begun.

And it is worth mentioning that there were no other people at the scene except the two parties, not only Mark and other members of "Dawn Morning Light" were not there, but also the Puritan crusade troops were missing, probably all trapped in the trap of the passage Did you win?

And one of them is a man wearing an old-fashioned robe, holding a wooden scepter in his hand that is taller than himself, and at the top there is a group of strange lumps floating in the center of the wooden bend that I don't know how to describe. It doesn't look like gemstones or other symbolic items.

In fact, even the overall feeling gives people a feeling that it is not a hard object, it seems to be a lump of some soft object.

A man fully clothed from head to toe.He bent his waist and hunched his back, making him look like an old man, but with his bare skin, it can be seen that the other party seems to be not very old, and he doesn't have the rough feeling of an old man, but a bit like a girl as smooth as meaning.

Opposite this "contradictory body" druid is the little leader of "Dawn Morning Light", Birdway. At this time, she is looking at him and the "floating object" behind him with disdain.

It can be said that in the "debris parade" where pots, pans and pans do not fall, there is actually a regular flow of magic power. Obviously, even if those things are not spiritual equipment, they are all part of the other party's magic formula .

"Is this the so-called 'Hundred Ghosts of the Night' in Japan?"

"Perhaps it should be called 'animism' in terms that you modern people are more familiar with, but the theory of animism exists everywhere, and this is just one of them."

The voice could not distinguish between men and women, and the low and unpleasant tone made Birdway frowned unconsciously.

"No, it's not good. After all, if it's the Hundred Ghosts Night Walk led by the 'Da Yao', it will be more troublesome for me to be honest. Although the principles and ideas are similar, the results are completely different."

Shaking the short staff in his hand, Birdway said with some contempt.

The other party didn't seem to care about Birdway's contemptuous attitude and tone at all, and still talked on his own.

"Are you delaying time, waiting for someone else to come here? 'Fallen Gold' little girl?"

"Leaving aside what you mean by 'corrupted gold'. But if I intended to gang up on you, you wouldn't have come here alone."

"That's naturally the best. After all, your companions may be in some trouble now."

"What do you mean?"

Birdway frowned and stared at the other party, as if trying to read something from the other party's movements and demeanor.

But the other party's motionless body like a sculpture, and the appearance of no face at all, Birdway couldn't see anything.

Chapter 130 Nine: My Name Is William Wayne Westcott

"Your men and those British magicians may have some trouble."

"And, do you think your three-legged cat's temple composition can make it difficult for my subordinates? Besides, if you die here at this level, then you can only blame yourself for your lack of ability."

Listening to Birdway's words, the distorted druid nodded, as if he did not deny Birdway's statement.

He adjusted his center of gravity slightly with the wooden crutch in his hand, as if he felt a little uncomfortable from standing for a long time.

"From this point of view, you do have the style of those guys from the 'Golden Dawn'. Although your level may not even be at the bottom of that association, it's not your fault."

"Although I won't deny that my level is still far from worthy of being compared with the members of 'Golden Dawn', it is quite unpleasant to say these words from the mouth of the enemy..."

The short staff in her hand was turned upside down by Birdway. The end of the original long handle now looks like the thin blade of a Western sword, but the end of the "blade" is not a Western sword-style gauntlet. Instead of a plate, it is closer to the grid of a conventional great sword, and it is shaped like a flower hanging upside down on the whole.

The distance between the two sides is not close. The left and right sides are almost standing at the two ends of the entire "arena". The distance between each other is at least 200 meters. If it is not for the overall structure, the dialogue between the two sides may take some effort.