Berserk: The Prophet

"Tsk..."

Seranti swiftly used his scimitar to slice away the burning clothes, the scalding skin causing him to grimace in pain. However, Wenger had already transformed his weapon into a long-handled saber on the opposite tree trunk and was charging towards him.

"Bang!!" At this critical moment, Seranti quickly adjusted to a favorable position and skillfully blocked the attack with his scimitar. However, the demon's power was too great, and he was still knocked away, only managing to stop when his back hit an old tree.

Seranti wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and stared intently at the enemy's next move. The force of that attack was terrifying; even his arms went numb for a moment. He could no longer passively take the beating; he had to find a way to counterattack.

Seranti's heart pounded wildly in his chest, each beat a reminder that his life hung by a thread. A sharp pain shot through the skin of his left shoulder—the brand left by the flames of hell. His hands gripped his two curved swords tightly, his thumbs tracing the grooves on the hilts, ready to strike at any moment.

Wenger moved with lightning speed, flapping his wings and charging at Thranduil again. The hellfire wrapped around his saber carried the aura of death, each swing carrying the power to destroy everything. Thranduil knew he absolutely could not allow this power to strike him again, or he would have no chance.

His eyes were fixed on Wenger's movements, searching for the slightest opening. Countless combat techniques flashed through his mind; every action, every breath, was calculated. He knew that what he needed was not just strength, but also the wisdom and courage to precisely control every detail.

Wenger launched another attack, his saber flashing like a black lightning bolt, aimed straight for Seranti's head. Seranti's body reacted at the last moment, tilting to one side, the saber almost grazing his cheek, sending a gust of hot air through him.

"Now!" Seranti thought to himself, his scimitar drawing a perfect arc in the air, aiming straight for Wenger's throat. As if making a desperate gamble, this strike gathered all his strength.

Wenger's pupils contracted sharply as he sensed a potentially fatal threat. He twisted his body mid-air, attempting to evade the deadly blow. However, Seranti's blade had already grazed his skin, leaving a shallow gash.

"Agh!!" Wenger roared, drawing his military knife, which was wedged between the old trees. The deadly blade, carrying flames, drew a violent arc in mid-air, attempting to cleave Thranduil in two. Thranduil quickly used the surrounding trees as leverage, tumbling through the air and narrowly avoiding the attack.

The two engaged in a fierce chase through the forest, with Wenger's every attack filled with deadly intent and Seranti's every dodge fraught with danger.

Seranti's breathing became rapid, and his strength was being rapidly and violently depleted.

Just then, Seranti noticed a subtle movement in Wenger's body, a sign that he was about to unleash his power. A glint flashed in Seranti's eyes, and with his light and powerful body, he swiftly climbed a spruce tree using vines, performing a somersault in mid-air that was almost impossible for a human to do, like a nimble feline. His scimitar, at an uncanny angle, aimed straight for Wenger's head on his shoulders.

However, Wenger seemed to have anticipated all of this. He sneered, and almost instantly flapped his wings to change his trajectory and move behind Seranty. His right hand once again swung his long-handled saber, slashing towards Seranty's back.

Seranti sensed danger behind him as his attack missed, and rolled away to dodge it. He quickly got up, crossed his twin swords, and held them in front of his chest.

"To think you could dodge that... that's interesting..." Wenger's voice carried a hint of amusement.

Before he could finish speaking, Wenger launched another attack. His saber came flying like a whirlwind, and Seranti could only keep raising his sword to parry. The demon's powerful strength quickly overwhelmed him, and he was forced to retreat repeatedly by the barrage of attacks. His arms gradually went numb, his tiger's mouth was cracked from the impact, and even the ground beneath his feet was left with deep marks from his footsteps.

Suddenly, Wenger seized an opening in Seranty's defenses and kicked him in the stomach. Seranty's body flew far away like a kite with a broken string.

Thrandt crashed heavily to the ground, the intense pain forcing him to curl up. Wenger seized the opportunity to rush forward, ready to deliver the fatal blow to Thrandt.

"Whoosh-!"

Suddenly, several chain arrows made of mithril pierced Wenger's right arm and legs, wrapping around his limbs the moment they pierced through. The arrowheads extended their grappling hooks, embedding themselves deep into Wenger's flesh and burning him.

"Roar!!"

Wenger roared in extreme agony. As the mithril burned his body, his huge, scarlet eyes felt fear—the annihilation of his very soul.

"Hiss—!!"

The neighing of warhorses rang out, and three silver knights immediately charged from three different directions, their mithril chains tearing wildly at Wenger's body and flesh.

Wenger suddenly lost control of his body, his wings flapping wildly in pain as he tried to escape.

The three silver knights below were clearly struggling under Wenger's fierce efforts, and their warhorses began to back away as they struggled.

“Shoot!!”

With Vilian's roar, the other two Silver Knights spurred their horses on and aimed their small crossbows, secured with mithril chains, at Wenger's wings.

"Whoosh—Pfft—!!"

With his wings pierced and entangled, the warhorse's violent pulling completely robbed Wenger of any chance of flying free, and he was once again bound to the ground.

Due to the limited space, the five warhorses could only gallop wildly in one direction. Wenger roared in pain, with only his short left arm supporting him on the ground.

However, just when everyone thought the situation was settled, Wenger laughed, and his body began to emit an eerie, blood-red glow...

Seranti felt a sense of foreboding. He had witnessed the demon use this move from afar, and he absolutely could not allow it to be unleashed!

Wenger's laughter echoed through the forest, his saber appearing even larger in the crimson light, its flames burning even more fiercely. Seranti struggled to his feet; he had to stop Wenger, or everyone would be in mortal danger!

Seranti took a deep breath and decided to fight to the death. He lunged at Wenger with all his might.