My Heroic Life

Joan looked back at Roland, who was moving more and more slowly, in anxious heart. At the same time, Hestaya had already swooped up with a scythe in her hand. Her thin arm lifted the scythe with cyan light, but she smashed it down. The powerful force.

Joan's face suddenly changed at the moment the weapon touched her with her gun. She roared and stood firmly, and finally barely took the blow.

"boom----!"

A gust of wind broke out at the intersection of the two weapons, and the black slabs under Joan's feet shattered into stones, and the strong shock wave swept across the hall, blowing a group of monsters into the sky.

"Huh? You can actually block my attack, you are not a waste."

The half-human and half-ghost old woman chuckled, and then a fierce light flashed in her eyes, and she began to chop frantically. It was a disorderly attack with a sickle, but it was difficult to resist. Hestia was fully used in the blood of God. The crazy part, the mighty power of the giants allowed her to even crush steel into mud.

"Hahahahahaha."

In the continuous roar, Hestaya laughed wildly. It seemed to her that she had already won the moment she started the melee combat. How many heroic spirits with extraordinary strength in the court court were divided under her scythe, the saint in front of her. What are the exceptions?

However, she was gradually surprised that the attack had gone for more than a dozen rounds, but not only did Joan of Arc not be defeated, but after the initial period of attack, she became more and more courageous. The defense was just like her instinct, with every effort. They were almost perfect, and Hestaya was clearly trying to chop every time, but she didn't feel like she hit anything.

"Damn it! What's the matter!"

For Herstaya, the bone frame that advocates the most primitive strength, speed and other attributes, this is something she can't understand. The physical attacks that monsters can't handle will not be mentioned for the time being, even the death and curse exuded by the bone sickle. Both had little effect on Joan, and on the other side, Roland was constantly attacking the bondage of the ceremonial costume to the spiritual body.

These two guys are not right, this saint is also very powerful among the upper heroes, and seems to have restraint against me.

Hestia gradually understood the difficulty of the enemy. She had fought against a heroic pharaoh named Nitocris on the front line of Egypt. She was actually regarded as a priest in the clan who knew the heroic spirit better. In her opinion, the heroic spirits The shortcomings are obvious. Most of them have special skills on the one hand, just as Nitocris can defeat her with the magic of the undead, but she is not her opponent in hand-to-hand combat.

But the saint in front of her was completely different. The continuous attacks forced Herstaya to temporarily stop and rest. She looked at the Joan of Arc, who was not far away, who was not far away, and a sharp light flashed in her eyes.

Chapter 56 The Worst Thing in the World

Joan looked at Hestaya, who was panting, and knew that the battle had entered his own rhythm.

Similar to her on the other side of the strait, the battles are often swift and quick. The difference between the knight king who has a faceless cannon is that the European Union of Joan of Arc often has no classic battles that the world celebrates.

The reason is simple, because anyone who sees Joan of Arc's battle will have an impression-simplicity.

There is no powerful magic power to release, there is no invincible light cannon that sweeps the army. The duel between Joan and the powerful enemy is often the beginning of the downwind, the enemy is energetic, and the tricks are dazzling. Only the power of defense is not the power to fight back.

Then as time passed, the enemy gradually felt wrong. The lonely Joan became more and more able to cope with various tsunami-like offensives, but his physical and magical powers were greatly diminished, and his advantages were getting smaller and finally forced to be helpless. Performed a killer move, but was restrained by Joan's treasure. In the end, he could only be defeated by the counterattack Joan, and hated on the spot.

The description of Joan of Arc should not be strong and victorious, but should be perseverance and undefeated. At this moment, Hestia was helpless with Joan for a while. Roland on the side was relieved and began to cool down. Power on the edge of the outbreak.

It seems that there will be no problem for a while.

Roland hesitated, and finally did not further liberate the painful side-effect power, but began to solve the curse by relying on the vast knowledge.

Herstaya looked forward. After a series of fierce confrontations, the saint's face was ruddy, her golden silk-like hair was floating in the mist, her face was determined and holy, and her valkyrie-like figure was almost half-human. Half-ghost and ugly, she formed a sharp contrast.

There was a fierce light in the old woman's eyes, she smiled viciously, the bone sickle in her hand emitted a gloomy light, as if she had adjusted her breath and rushed up again.

At the beginning of a new round of confrontation, Hestaya added magic between the attacks. Her gray bone scythe kept swinging, and every time a gray ghost crawled out of it to attack Joan.

In this case, Joan had to deal with Hestia's sickle first, and then relying on her extraordinary physique to take a few attacks from the ghosts, and then kill the ghosts between battles.

However, what puzzled her a little was that the attacks of these gray ghosts seemed to be of little use. Their curses were so weak that they seemed not as powerful as ordinary ghosts, but their instincts were telling her that these things were extremely dangerous.

The battle between the two began to become incomprehensible, and on the other side, the huge Eleudenier Palace began to make a loud noise, and Hestaya, who thought that Roland had stopped colliding and restraining because of weakness, changed his face greatly.

"Damn! You are a magician!"

The old lady watched the attire that cost him countless efforts being destroyed from the basis of the structure, her heart was like a knife twist, her cloudy eyes stared at Roland in the distance, but she was immediately blocked by the feeling of Joan.

"You, huh, that's why..."

Herstaya looked at the nervous blonde girl and felt her heart instantly. Her face twisted, and her yin and yang ridiculed her most disgusting human feelings.

"You actually like your guardian spirit, your brain is more problematic than those brainless skeletons."

Joan's eyes widened slightly after hearing Hestia's words, and then immediately attacked for the first time with an angry face.

"Hey? I'm so embarrassed when I'm told about the main thing? The fake saints full of men, thieves and prostitutes, you really make me sick!"

After hearing the words, Joan was expressionless, and started a close fight with the half-human and half-ghost angry old woman. She understood that Roland might still need some time behind her, and as long as Roland was free from the shackles, the two together defeated Hersta. Ya will relax a lot.

However, what she didn’t know was Hestia’s cunning. The furious old woman had the opposite in her heart. Pieces of gray ghosts were released from the scythe and bitten towards Joan. Although the blonde girl is defensive, she still gets tricked frequently.

"Let me think about it, the saint and her guardian spirit, there are really many ways to play, and without knowing it, tell me you bitch, how many have you played?"

"Evil way! Stop your foul language, we are not that kind of relationship!"

"Huh? You haven't told him yet? It's so stupid to have a crush on the saint who is her guardian spirit!"

"To shut up!"

Under Hestaja's provocation, Joan was uncommonly angry. The monster in front of her ridiculed her in the forbidden zone of the saint's heart, and she had dimly realized that her feelings were unbearable.

While resisting the storm-like attack, Hestaya looked at the saint walking towards her trap with a mockery.

"It turns out to be your wishful thinking, haha, I really don't know what he will say after listening to it, if I would curse you, a false and serious disgusting saint!"

"Roland won't say that! Stop your instigation and separation!"

"...Roland?"

Hestia was stunned for a moment, but she was awakened by Joan’s attack. She looked at the uncontrollable anger of the saint and said with certainty: “It doesn’t matter if you say it or not, because he won’t like you. ."

"what?"

Joan asked with anger, and Hestaya gave a wicked smile.

"After all, who would choose to like an old woman?"

Jeanne's eyes widened in perplexity. The next moment, the bone sickle in Hestalya's hand glowed with a gray turbid light. In the light, Jeanne felt that something in her body was quickly being pulled away.

His stamina was rapidly reduced, and the flag gun in his hand became extremely heavy. Jeanne felt that his eyes were suddenly dim, and the arms in his field of vision were already full of wrinkles like dry trees.

Taking charge of aging, this is an ability of Hela in the myth, but in Hestia's hands, this ability is far less powerful than in the myth.

"You didn't expect that those powerless gray ghosts are actually spells, and they will be triggered when you kill them. These spells accumulate little by little on you until I detonate them and burn your youth."

Hestia smiled like a catharsis. The Valkyrie that was once in front of her is no longer here, replaced by an old man with dry skin and yellow hair.

Deprived of time, Joan's brain was blank. She tried her best not to fall down and reached out to touch the long sword at her waist, but Hestaya did not give her the opportunity to launch the saint of red lotus.

She grabbed the aging saint's neck and said with a smile:

"Do you feel the fear? That's right, aging is such a thing, then it's over, I will accept the soul of the upper hero."

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