Berserk: The Prophet

.........

My throat is dry, I need water...

The wriggling sensation was disgusting... The worm was still wriggling its fat body under the skin of my neck.

My head is spinning...

"Uh..."

Green slowly opened his eyes, which were ready to fall back asleep at any moment. His eyelids were so heavy that it seemed he was in a tent. There was a bowl of water by the bed, and Green reached for it with his heavy left hand.

"crash"

The water bowl was accidentally knocked over, and the water spilled all over the ground, nourishing some of the trampled grass.

"Boss?!"

Bazso rushed into the tent, helped Green back to his original spot against the suitcase, and then fetched a bowl of water for Green.

"What happened the night before last? You've been unconscious for two whole days."

...two days?

Green paused as he picked up the bowl of water. His previously dry eyes instantly welled up with tears, which condensed into a single tear that fell into the bowl, creating a ripple. The sorrow and pain in his heart, along with the water, poured into his dry and aching throat. He then put down the bowl and curled up into a ball. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

"Hey, I'll go get you something to eat."

Although Bazso didn't know what Green had gone through, he knew that Green needed some space of his own. Boys don't need many words to comfort each other, because they know that no matter what happens, they have to face tomorrow. They just need a space to vent their emotions. Bazso patted Green on the shoulder and turned to leave.

In the past two days, Juda has gradually gained the upper hand on the battlefield. General Yuris of the White Dragon was captured alive, and the morale of the entire Midland army has been greatly reduced. Especially after hearing that most of the White Dragon Knights had been wiped out, it would be even more difficult to rebuild them.

However, the war continues, and one can even imagine Judas making exorbitant demands on Midland.

The battle in Midland now is probably more than just fighting; they may also be considering how to dismiss those mercenaries.

However, it is almost certain that this war will not last much longer.

I'm not reconciled... If I weren't so weak right now... how could Ali and the others have...

He swallowed his tears silently, his voice choked with emotion. If only he had made a wiser decision back then... then Ali wouldn't have...

He died at the hands of that demon because of his own mistake!

.........

Several crimson demons with wings on their backs were watching the battlefield not far away in the jungle, drawn here by the scent of blood and death.

"Gu Jie!!"

The violence and bloodshed in the air gave them immense pleasure, except... the putrid stench belonging to Azdahaka, a vile and impure odor that made the demons nauseous.

However, they don't mind getting a share of the spoils in this chaotic time, since they haven't replenished their blood with fresh human blood for a long time.

Five undead demon warriors, riding on demonic warhorses with two horns on their heads, drew their demonic swords from their waists, hellfire burning on the blades, and charged into the chaotic battlefield.

Meanwhile, Trunks was engaged in fierce combat with the leading Dread Legion infantry. Only the monster, wielding the Empire's broadsword and shield, was able to hold its own against Trunks, relying on its monstrous physique and combat instincts from its previous life. Despite the passage of time, the helmet was still faintly recognizable as the attire of a legion commander.

After more than thirty rounds, the legion commander's increasingly tattered Imperial Legion armor was proof of his disadvantage, and the wounds from the greatsword that emitted a faint holy light were sizzling and emitting white smoke.

"Jie Jie!!"

The Fear Legion Commander let out a few incomprehensible roars from his tattered throat, as if he was angry about the current situation, and summoned a dozen Fear Legion infantrymen to surround and annihilate Trunks.

A dozen spears were instantly aimed at Trunks, intending to turn him into a pincushion. But all of this seemed to Trunks in slow motion. He simply leaped into the air and easily defused the situation. His feet landed on the overlapping spears of the Dread Legion infantry. In the blink of an eye, his greatsword transformed into a golden halberd with an extremely long attack range. The halberd spun around in his hand with great force, and in an instant, the heads of the dozen or so Dread Legion infantrymen rolled to the ground.

"Roar!!"

The legion commander angrily thrust at Trunks, but Trunks found an opening. After deflecting the attack with his heavy halberd, it flashed and transformed into a greatsword. With a swift turn of the sword, he instantly severed the attacking arm.

The rotting blood had long since turned into a pool of black, foul-smelling water, flowing out from the severed arm but quickly disappearing. The cut surface was sizzling with white smoke, and the cut was scorched a dark red like charcoal, with a faint tendency to gradually expand.

Trunks followed up with an attack, but the experienced legion commander turned and blocked it with his shield. Lacking the strength of an arm, the fear legion commander knelt awkwardly in the muddy soil, only able to hold his shield steady.

"Drink!!"

Trunks suddenly gathered his strength in his waist, turned around and swung his greatsword in a semi-circle to his side, executing a beautiful mid-air side strike that transferred all his weight onto the greatsword, slashing down with all his might.

"Bang!" "Crack!"

Trunks' greatsword cleaved the shield in two, and the body beneath it was also split in two. The hoarse throat could no longer utter a sound. This devoted ancient imperial legion commander could finally rest in peace.

Trunks' battle had just ended, and the summoned Legion of Fear had also been completely dealt with. Although it seemed that only two or three hundred soldiers had been lost, this was only due to the protection of the Goddess of Justice. After all, the goddess does not often favor herself.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Sizzle!" "Crack!"

"Heh..." "Uh..."

Several sounds of hooves trampling heavy armor and piercing flesh rang out, drawing Trunks' attention and causing his pupils to shrink.

"It's a heretical demon!!"

Barkley's soldiers issued a warning. The demons were riding their tall demon steeds, recklessly devouring the souls of the soldiers pierced by demonic blades. Hellfire was scorching their bodies, and they were quickly drained of their flesh, leaving them withered and shriveled, resembling newborn rats. The withered soldiers were then tossed to the ground like trash, their armor scattered everywhere.