Chapter 12 Drinking blood for the blade
This is not the first time Elson has murdered compatriots in Mansu.
He was once just an ordinary mortal, working all day long to exchange his life for money, and barely getting enough food and clothing.
He is not willing to give in!
Why are those nobles born in Rome, while I, Elson, have to work hard as a cow and horse, working so hard that my waist is broken but I can only get a meager salary? I am obviously more diligent and harder than them. ! ! !
But blaming others was of no use, and Elson's life continued to be poor and difficult.
Until he met the coworker whom he hadn't seen for a long time. They were quite familiar with each other and shared their experiences in the room. The other party warmly invited him to work with him - to establish a secret missionary group and respect the principles of the blade. Please Scarred Captain!
Before reciting the incantation, Elson sharpened the knife he used to use in the slaughterhouse to the point where it could almost break hair. He and the believers who had never met him stood in a circle side by side, holding their own blades against the center. He chanted the mantra taught by the founder of the religion, his acquaintance.
His consciousness fell into a blur. When he woke up, his body was covered with bruises and blade scars. Several believers died from excessive blood loss.
The acquaintance was covered in blood, holding a long curled sword and smiling heartily at Elson and the other two remaining believers.
"Scars are pain and experience. We use scars as weapons, and scars also protect us from harm."
"My disciples, killing is the best way to sharpen a sword's edge."
"The blade is meant to drink blood, the blade is meant to taste flesh, the blade is meant to chew bones."
"The life of the weak is the best whetstone!"
…………
Elson showed such enthusiasm along the way just to relax the other party's vigilance!
He pretends to be exhausted from time to time just to make the other party despise him from the bottom of his heart!
After showing weakness and gasping for many times, Elson was convinced that his disguise had successfully paralyzed Little John, and the other party should have lowered his guard.
Then this is the perfect time to backstab! It’s time to use this kid’s hot blood to water my blade and refine my secret transmission!
With the desire for power, Elson resolutely stabbed Little John in the back - the dagger was specially twisted to be parallel to the ground, and it would definitely be able to stab straight into the heart along the gap between the ribs. With a slight twist, it would be done. Send the other person a short and painful journey to death!
Poof, the blade penetrated the flesh and blood of the soul body.
But it didn't sink straight into the back of the heart as Elson thought, but was firmly held by a strong big hand, blocking the castration!
Little John, also known as Watson, felt the pain of tearing in his palms, and the blood flowed to the warmth of his palms.
He lowered his head to meet Elson's surprised eyes, and the innocence on his face faded, replaced by a ferocious sneer.
"I knew you had no good intentions!"
Watson is not really an ignorant young man who has never experienced anything in the world. His clear stupidity is just a disguise. He never believed this fat man who suddenly appeared from the beginning!
No one would trust a stranger, especially a stranger with unusual enthusiasm who appeared in such a strange environment!
Watson had already discovered that this man looked obese, but actually had tight muscles. His limbs were obviously sound, but his movement speed could not even keep up with a disabled person like himself. It was obvious that he had hidden evil intentions!
The vigilance in his heart was already full at that time. He seemed to be looking around, but in fact, his attention was focused on listening to the movement behind him.
The moment he heard the obvious sound of force hitting the ground, he immediately turned around and saw a flash of silver light heading towards his heart.
But this speed... is too slow, too slow!
Compared to the Furstan people's swift scimitar, it was as slow as an old lady waving a spoon!
He only grabbed it once and held the dagger firmly in his hand. The blade was jammed by the thick muscle and could not be moved further.
Watson picked up a wooden stick with his backhand and hit Elson on his flat nose. The bridge of Elson's already low nose was broken and almost collapsed into a flat piece of ground.
Elson only felt that his nose was sore and painful, and his mouth was filled with bitter, salty, and sweet, as if he had knocked over a spice jar. If his soul had not been tearless, he would probably have tears flowing down his face.
But after all, he was a disciple of the Scarred Centurion who had cultivated the first-level secret transmission of blades. His tolerance for pain was far beyond that of ordinary people, and he had come to his senses with a flick of his head.
Elson's eyes narrowed into thin slits and a fierce gaze burst out. He shouted viciously: "So what if you see through it, you will still die in my hands!"
While speaking, he suddenly used force to pull out the dagger, but found that the dagger seemed to be deeply embedded in the iron pincers, and it would not move at all no matter how hard he applied.
Elson couldn't help but panic. He knew that his arm strength had greatly increased since he completed the secret transmission, and it was much easier to cut animals in the slaughterhouse. Why was this cunning John's arm strength far better than his own?
He decisively let go of the dagger and allowed the power of the blade to dissipate on its own. At the same time, he took several steps back and silently transmitted the secret message to condense a new blade.
But how could Watson just let you retreat? He let go of the dagger in his hand, which was half like melted ice and snow, put his right toe on the ground, and jumped like a one-legged zombie to catch up.
A great man has a saying: When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy is stationed, we harass; when the enemy is tired, we attack; when the enemy retreats, we pursue!
He chased and beat him with a wooden stick. The first blow hit the opponent's hastily raised left arm, the second hit hit the newly reborn blade, and the stick broke in half. The third hit made the broken sharp stick pierce the opponent's left arm. He narrowed his eyes narrowly.
Ahhhh! ! ! Elson's mind was agitated by the pain. He could no longer maintain the operation of the secret transmission, and the dagger in his hand turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared.
He accidentally missed his footing and stumbled to the ground. The moment he fell to the ground, a big hand grabbed his throat.
His dark right eye suddenly felt a sense of relief, but the next moment, in the remaining half of Elson's field of vision, he could see the irregular sharpness of the bloody wooden stick gradually enlarging!
His eyes were completely blind and his soul was about to disappear, but Elson suddenly gave up the struggle.
Ever since he couldn't restrain his desire for power and brazenly attacked his kind in the forest in order to advance the secret transmission of the Blade, he had been feeling fearful in his heart.
Dream murders are not completely traceable. He had heard the legend of the Anti-Suppression Bureau at a church meeting. It was said that it was a special department set up by Great Britain to target those who secretly practiced esoteric transmission. It was responsible for investigation, trial and punishment. The crime of the heretic exists only in dreams—characters like him.
It is rumored that the Anti-Suppression Bureau does not need to abide by ordinary social laws, has a perverse behavior style, and brutal interrogation methods, so it has an extremely bad reputation.
And this is what Elson fears the most.
He shivered in the shadow of the incident all day long, with fear like a cold blade at his throat.
But Elson couldn't resist the temptation of a rapid increase in strength after improving the secret transmission. It was the only thing he could rely on to fight against the anti-suppression bureau.
Struggle, fear, obsession, hesitation... seemed to tear Elson's spirit into several pieces.
Now all this has finally come to relief, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. He once gave others death in the forest, and now he will die in the forest.
And you, little John, will also have to endure the pain and suffering that I struggled with.
Elson suddenly smiled happily and said: "Now, it is your turn to face the pursuit of the Anti-Suppression Bureau."