The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1107 (Ch.1106) Interception and the Harmonica

No matter how bizarre and fantastical the "fantasy" may be, a "story" at the fourth ring level is no match for three equally skilled high-ring characters—moreover…

Theoretically speaking, Roland has not yet obtained the power of the fourth ring of the Fantasy Ring.

He wasn't ready to write a story that would have enough impact on the world.

Snapped--!
The long whip lashed through the encirclement of plant soldiers, aiming at Trek. However, unlike some other executives, he wasn't overly confident in his physique—so far, this 'White Veil Killer' hadn't displayed particularly strong aggression…

This is unreasonable.

Trek was extremely cautious.

He retreated along the corridor, letting layers of soldiers and vines form a barrier in front of him. These shields gave them enough time to react to the 'whip's' transformation: for example, it might suddenly become a blade…

It's not too late.

This is the fighting style of the "Undying Ones".

Snapped--!
As expected, the whip struck a soldier's shoulder, severing one of his arms vertically.

But soon.

It has a new one.

"The ritualists you encounter will become increasingly skilled."
-
You should help me think of a way to escape now.

"Do you 'want' it?"
-
I…

He really didn't 'want'.

But that's just too shameless.

Roland was about to say something when a gust of wind suddenly dispersed the flames before him. A sharp storm nearly ripped every leaf from the soldier's body: they transformed into blades, sweeping diagonally towards Roland!
Click.

The tabletop was cut off.

The wall was cut in half.

Mud splashed.

The man leaped and tumbled through the storm. He couldn't escape the cutting force; soon, it pierced through his coat and shirt, leaving white streaks on his skin.

Some are light, some are heavy.

In mid-air, the blurry shadow resembled a tightly wound spring, its legs spinning like a propeller as the gap widened.

This is not a movement that a human could make.

"I hate the rituals on this road—"

After landing on his knees, he braced himself forward with his hands.

The vines that had been hidden for so long finally bulged out!
It burst through the floor, and the sharp vines, despite their best efforts, only managed to pierce the thin outer layer of Roland's palm.

But a sharp pain swept over me!

"I never wanted to be an executioner who paralyzes his prey..."

Trek slowly walked around the soldiers blocking his way, a triumphant smile flashing in his eyes.

“I wish they were more ‘sensitive.’ Sensitive, cultists, little fleas. More sensitive, extremely sensitive, sensitive enough to detect even the sting of the wind on the skin—pain teaches a lot, doesn’t it?”

Roland pulled his hand out of the needle prick, braced himself with one hand, and flipped it backward to avoid the blow coming from above.

The 'giants' are becoming increasingly dense.

They had almost completely blocked his escape route.

"Pain can also make people feel the presence of God... His grace and mercy—people are always merciless, thinking that everything is their due... Is that really the case?"

Roland shook his arm.

He could no longer stand up straight.

—When pain reaches a certain level, it becomes unrelated to willpower and belief.

Just for a moment.

This pain, however…

"I think I should go now."

"can you do it?"

Roland glanced at the words formed by white flames around him: Departure.

"Maybe I should just listen to my friends..."

He raised his intact arm and pushed forward with all his might!
In an instant, the lush forest seemed to be stretched by some invisible force—the green soil rising underfoot became narrower, and the half-collapsed wall bricks twisted into the shape of lances.

Everything around them seemed like a lump of dough being pulled in two directions, and their relationship with the 'cultists' was becoming increasingly distant as things changed!

Roland didn't think, his eyes fixed on the shifting flames in his vision:
"To the right!"

He twisted his upper body to the right, but his hand, using his elbow as the center, bent in the opposite direction to an incredible angle, and then sprang up with his palm, avoiding another thorn hidden in the green soil.

"backward!"

then.

He leaped backward.

Avoid it once again.

"Follow my guidance forward. Once the stage is torn open, do not look back."

The raging flames transformed into countless arrows pointing forward. They didn't point to any place Roland needed to go—they simply meant to escape the battlefield.

just now.

He is 'two' him.

Roland reached out and made a gesture.

The space that was cut open again was barely enough to accommodate the body of an adult male. But as is well known, cats are liquid.

Of course he can.

"catch him!!"

Trek, leading two five-ring elites, gave chase. He absolutely could not let this cultist who could sever the "field" escape—even if it meant losing Theodore and Fonseca.

This is a secret technique of the cutting field.

A secret technique that has never been seen before.

If they get it...

"catch him!"

The gardeners who arrive at the Fourth Ring Road will have the ability to cultivate and improve their own plants. Besides Trek, the other two Green Knights should also have their own 'pets'—Roland soon found out what they were.

Along the way, coral-colored hollyhocks sprouted from the ash trees in sight, like diseased bark suddenly swelling...

It's getting increasingly bloated.

"Avoid...no! Protect yourself!!"

Roland instinctively tore off his coat and whipped it around himself like a whip!
"It has a steel frame."

Bang——! !

The deafening explosion almost shook the entire street.

Each ash tree planted with hollyhocks became a bomb with gunpowder buried inside!
The flames could not harm a ritualist who had survived two Judgment Swords, but just as Roland had no way to handle the oncoming impact—

He felt as if he had been hit head-on by a raging bull.

The immense impact propelled him backward, and almost instantly, he closed the distance between himself and his pursuers.

Plant soldiers and thorns that overturned the green soil followed one after another.
-
You should have reminded me sooner…

"What right does a blind man have to make demands! Quick! Get away from those flowers!"

"You possess the power to break through barriers! They cannot contain you!"

"Follow my instructions! Go around to the left..."

"Roland?"

"Roland... Damn it! Roland! Don't look at those roses!!"

The third Green Knight cultivated a rose.

of course.

Roland no longer enjoys the special abilities these roses possess…

Roses alone.

Will suffice.

"Oh?"

Trek gestured for the two Green Knights to stop.

The soldiers and thorns moved slowly forward, surrounding the 'person' kneeling on the ground, trembling incessantly—of course, in Trek's eyes, 'it' looked like 'Horn'.

"Fear... Rose?"

This is so interesting.

It seems that once we bring them back to the vortex, no torture will be needed; just a rose will suffice…

but.

Fear Rose —

The price of a wondrous object? Or whose curse?
Trek shook his head.

Now, they must get him away as soon as possible. His "field" has dissipated, and soon, heretics will notice this place...etc.

Thinking of this, Trek suddenly raised his head and looked around.

A quiet, still summer night.

The continuous footsteps, conversations, and explosions did not ignite even the slightest spark in the surrounding area.

Nobody was curious.

No one spoke up, or shouted as they fled like madmen…

No, it's abnormal to begin with.

"...We are in other people's 'field'."

Trek frowned.

Just a few steps after they finished their pursuit of the cultist, they unknowingly stumbled into another "field"...

who is it?

His gaze slowly crept up to a round table not far away, following the bizarre melody that seemed to float above the flames…

And the owner of the round table.

Beneath a wide-brimmed black hat, the musician at midnight holds a silver harmonica.

Trek swallowed hard.

Back away slowly.

A while ago, someone appeared in public.

“…K…K…Kash…”

(End of this chapter)