Assassin's Chronicle

Chapter 198: Death Blow

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

A colorful, nameless snake slithered down from the tree. Its hissed and flicked its tongue. After a few moments, it found its target. It slithered up Anfey’s leg.

Anfey knocked the arrow and stared at the forest below him, still as a statue. He was trying to size up his enemies and take them out one by one.

This time he had picked the mercenary who had been interested in the soup earlier. Anfey could see the man dashing towards him, and realized he would arrive after approximately twenty seconds.

The snake kept slithering up his leg. The coldness felt strange, but Anfey looked like he could not feel anything at all. His body maintained the same posture.

He knew that snakes were cold-blooded and liked resting next to something warm. The warmth generated by a human body was very attractive to snakes, and it was not shocking a snake would try to coil itself around him. Judging from the color and the shape of its head, the snake was venomous. Attracting a venomous snake right before a fight was unlucky, but as an assassin, Anfey was accustomed to accidents. Nothing could distract him.

A figure coated in combat power passed by under him. Anfey released an element arrow that was aimed at the man’s back.

The element arrow dispersed with a loud crack, but the man was not injured. The magic armor flashed, and Anfey could see a magic crystal on the armor reduced to dust.

The bow in Anfey’s hand disappeared. Anfey reached down and slapped his knee, where the snake was resting. He grabbed the snake’s tail, yanking it off him, and tossed it aside.

Accidents could not distract Anfey, but it could affect his movements. Even though he was very fast, he was still delayed for a few seconds. His opponent was an experienced mercenary, and the few seconds was all he needed to regain his composure.

Anfey leapt down from the tree, his dagger shining, pointing at the mercenary’s neck. The magic armor the man wore was another surprise. What he hoped would be a fatal blow was nothing but an inconvenience to the man. Usually, Anfey would try to preserve his strength. This time, he did not want to do that.

Just as Anfey had expected, the man was ready to engage him. He turned around and drove his sword towards Anfey’s chest.

Every person had a certain way of fighting. If someone had fought Anfey before, he would know that Anfey would not expose his fighting plan when his target was still feet away from him. The longer he could hide his plan, the better.

The sword was much longer than the dagger, and normally it would be able to pierce its target. However, Anfey stopped in midair, and the wind blades under his feet disappeared. The sword was close to him, but he was able to avoid it.

Anfey’s dagger clanged against the sword, and he kicked the mercenary in the chest. The man grunted and drew his sword back for a second blow, sending his sword radiance after Anfey.

Anfey jumped out of the way and avoided the attack. The mercenary was not as good as Anfey at calculating and staying close to his target. Anfey kicked him and jumped upwards, but the mercenary was kicked, and his body was tilted.

Anfey landed and jumped up. He stared at the mercenary.

"It’s you!" the mercenary said. He recognized Anfey.

"No, it’s not," Anfey said. He leapt forward and dashed towards the mercenary.

The mercenary frowned, but Anfey was already on the move. "Come on," he bellowed angrily.

Anfey’s body was almost parallel to the ground, as if he was an arrow himself. He held out his right arm in front of him and pointed the dagger straight at the mercenary. What Anfey was doing was called a "death blow." It was a move used by people who were determined to see their opponents dead. With his right arm held out in front of him, he traded mobility so he could kill the mercenary with one blow. In close combat, the loss of mobility usually meant death.

Perhaps it was because of Anfey, or perhaps it was because the mercenary was a daring and ruthless man himself, he used a "death blow" as well. His body was parallel to the ground, and the only difference between him and Anfey was the combat power on his sword.

As they were about to clash, the mercenary smirked. A man without combat power was no match for a man who had it.

The sword and the dagger clashed. Anfey’s dagger flew out of his hand, and his body kept going forward due to the momentum. Anfey curled his body up and turned from dashing forward to flying forward. As the two dashed past each other, Anfey kicked the man in his groin.

The mercenary grunted in pain and stumbled to the ground. Anfey leapt up and the two stared at each other. Anfey’s stance was natural, but the mercenary looked as if he was in great pain. Even though his combat power had prevented Anfey from completely disabling him, the mercenary was still in great pain.

Anfey raised his hand, and a lance made of wind blades gathered in his hand.

"You’re a two-discipliner?" the mercenary asked. He began to see Anfey in a different light. However, he could not understand why Anfey had chosen a lance. A knight with his horse was no match for a swordsman.

Anfey did not say anything. He had stopped a mercenary, and the other two had already arrived at where he was before. They crouched down to study their companion’s corpse. One of them held the elf's body in his arms and was sobbing, while the other was trying to console him. The sobbing man’s hood fell off, revealing two pointed ears.

Anfey bellowed and thrusted his lance towards the mercenary’s foot. He knew that the people in this world had a common mistake, and that was their lower body was often defenseless.

Anfey’s attack was very fast. Silvery wind blades shifted like an angry sea. Some blades dispersed like stars. The mercenary could only defend himself, and could not attack. Even Ernest was no match for Anfey when he was using a lance, let alone a mercenary. All he could do was blocking the lance.

Anfey leapt forward and thrust the lance at the man’s foot. The mercenary took a step back and tried to block with his sword. Anfey suddenly changed his direction of attack and slashed the lance at the man’s face. He had been aiming at the man’s lower body, and had angered the mercenary. However, this move was unexpected, and the mercenary was not fast enough to block the attack. The only thing he could do was try to move out of the lance’s way. The lance caught him on his left shoulder. It did not leave a deep wound, however, because of the mercenary’s combat power.

The mercenary roared and took a step back, his combat power becoming more blinding. Then his sword thrust forward and hit the lance. The blow scattered the wind blades that formed the sword, and sent Anfey flying backwards.

No one wanted to give up an opportunity for attack, especially when facing someone like Anfey. The mercenary leapt forward and dashed towards Anfey.

Before, the mercenary had been too slow. This time, he acted too fast.

Anfey sat in the grass, and he had drawn his bow. He aimed at the mercenary, and let loose his arrow.

Blocking an arrow from a hundred feet away was not difficult, but there were only a few feet between Anfey and the mercenary. The mercenary was running too fast for him to react and avoid the arrow.

The mercenary swung his sword. He did not know where Anfey was aiming, and was trying to protect himself instinctively. However, he missed the arrow. He felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and his vision was filled with blinding light.

Anfey rolled aside as the mercenary fell to the ground, his clothes burning. Anfey could draw the bow in a short time, but he could not form an element arrow. This time, he had used a blasting arrow made from bones of the manticore.