Chapter 701: A Powerful Half-Blood

The woman facing Henwell is very short. It is hard to judge her age from her appearance, but she is certainly not a little girl. Her sharply pointed, triangular ears, obvious little fangs, and faintly brown-green skin all suggest that she may not be human, or at least not fully human.

She wears ocher armor that does not look metallic. It seems to be made from some kind of chitin.

She carries two heavy weapons. One is a long-handled spiked warhammer more than a meter in length. The other is a flail with a thirty-centimeter handle and a chain more than a meter long.

Either weapon is difficult to master on its own, let alone both at once.

For the moment, Henwell decides to call her a woman.

She is short and looks unusual, but by human standards, she is still quite beautiful.

Her features remind Henwell of legendary races such as orcs and elves.

The two heavy weapons in her hands, each with a head as large as a human skull, prove that she is a fighter who relies on raw strength.

Combined with the uncanny speed she displayed earlier, Henwell judges her to be top-tier in both strength and speed.

Henwell intends to exploit the reach of his war spear and keep his body outside her attack range.

He quickly discovers that the plan will not work.

The instant she charges, Henwell predicts where she will land. His war spear shoots toward her chest like a striking serpent.

The thrust appears ordinary, but it conceals several possible follow-up moves.

Henwell's thrust is also brutally fast and perfectly timed, making it difficult to dodge or block.

To his surprise, she seems unable to evade it, and his spear strikes home.

The moment the feedback through the blade feels wrong, Henwell realizes the danger. It is already too late to pull back and defend.

He releases the spear with his left hand and fires his wrist crossbow behind him without even turning his head.

After a sharp metallic clash, pain explodes across his back and sends him flying.

Before he lands, Henwell whirls his war spear around himself and covers every possible angle of attack.

Sure enough, the instant he starts swinging, he feels the spear connect with a target.

Before he can change moves and pursue, the short woman retreats beyond the spear's reach again.

Henwell holds the war spear across his body in a stance suited for both attack and defense, then coughs up several mouthfuls of blood.

Even through his blood-soaked cloak, a deep dent is visible in the back of his Nightwind Armor.

Several conical holes mark the dent, clearly left by the woman's flail.

The woman studies Henwell curiously. After a moment, she says, "Your equipment is impressive. I can't believe you're still standing. If that armor weren't so good, I would have shattered your spine."

Henwell spits out bloody saliva. "My equipment isn't the only impressive thing about me."

He plants his war spear in the ground, unfastens the cloak from his back, and hangs it over the spear.

Then he slowly draws the Dawn and Dusk Greatswords from his waist. "Your build is unusual, and your weapons are tricky. I need some time to adjust."

"That strange movement of yours is the real problem. It resembles the legendary Blink of the dark elves, but it is not quite the same. I can also see something like the earth spell Earth Escape in it."

"I'm less interested in how you combined those innate abilities than I am in your bloodline. If I am not mistaken, you carry the blood of both dark elves and orcs."

The woman pauses. "You know a great deal. You don't sound like a native of this place at all. Where are you from? Divine Grace Continent?"

Henwell does not answer. "So you truly do carry several bloodlines. What is rare is that you managed to remove their flaws and retain only their strengths."

The woman asks, "Are you mocking my bloodline?"

Henwell shakes his head. "Of course not. You can speak and think. Whatever your race, you are still a sentient being."

"As a noble knight, courtesy demands that I warn you: the rest of this fight will not be so easy."

"Henwell Rudolph Phoenix, the lord of Blood Hill in the Vorry Kingdom of the Abandoned Continent. It is an honor to fight you."

The woman hesitates for a moment. "Alex Dana Blackfeather Wolffang. I have come to send you to your death!"

Blood Will erupts from Henwell's body, and the twin greatswords in his hands blaze with bloody flames.

Alex abruptly vanishes and reappears directly in front of Henwell.

Her flail crashes down toward his head. Henwell does not block it with a sword. Instead, he thrusts the Dawn Greatsword forward with his left hand as if he intends to trade his life for hers.

At the same time, he sweeps the Dusk Greatsword behind him with his right hand.

A clear metallic ring sounds, and his right hand feels the unmistakable force of an impact.

Just as Henwell decides that Alex's real body is behind him, he also feels the Dawn Greatsword in his left hand strike something solid.

Without pausing to think, Henwell stamps on the ground and releases the Chains of Civilization.

An illusory web more than thirty meters wide spreads across the ground with Henwell at its center.

Alex senses a change in the space around her, but she cannot see the Chains of Civilization.

Henwell has already blocked her Clone Slash. She needs to open the distance again.

To her horror, she can no longer use her innate abilities.

Before she can understand what has happened, Henwell's Unparalleled Sword Dance is already upon her.

The twin swords weave up and down in Henwell's hands, forming an impenetrable curtain of blades.

Empowered by the blood-red flames, the two greatswords resemble enormous wheels of light as they carve repeatedly at her small figure.

Under Henwell's storm of attacks, Alex can do nothing but defend. She cannot even disengage and widen the distance.

Henwell surpasses her in physique and strength while matching her speed.

His combat techniques are fierce and precise, shifting unpredictably throughout the relentless assault.

After only a minute, Henwell lands blows on her left shoulder and abdomen. Yet he only cuts through her chitin-like armor, leaving shallow wounds beneath it.

Henwell finally catches an opening and is about to sever her arm with a single stroke when his scalp suddenly tightens with warning.

He immediately retreats at full speed.

Before pulling away, he kicks Alex in the chest.

She blocks with the handle of her warhammer, but her hurried defense cannot absorb the force. The impact launches her away like a shell.

After retreating more than ten meters, Henwell kicks a battle spear from the ground and sends it flying.

The spear shoots like a bolt from a ballista and strikes exactly where Alex is about to land.

But Alex disappears the instant her feet touch the ground.

Henwell frowns and scans his surroundings. A moment ago, he sensed an overwhelming threat.

If he had continued his attack and killed Alex, he would have faced terrible danger himself.

Henwell understands that Alex's partner is responsible. He has been unable to lock onto the other assassin's position from the beginning.