That's right, that's what adventure is like!

Chapter 96 Forbidden

boom-

The kick was powerful, steady, and vicious, striking Castor in the abdomen.

However, the black light suddenly contracted as if it were alive, immediately absorbing and dispersing the impact.

Casper remained motionless, staring at Roland with a mocking smile on his lips, as he thrust his longsword straight at him.

A flash of sword light.

Roland used the recoil from the straight kick to lean back and try to adjust his posture, but the sword was so fast that its trajectory was almost invisible.

The sharp blade sliced ​​across Roland's chest, shredded his tattered black robe, and hurtled toward Roland's heart.

A sharp, metallic scraping sound rang out at that moment.

The balance of power played a crucial role at this moment; an invisible force caused the blade to deflect by half an inch, grazing the top of the fiery red scales and leaving only a white mark.

"interesting.

Casper glanced at the leather armor, raised an eyebrow slightly, and then launched the first attack!

The sword light was extremely fast, carrying pure killing intent, shattering the surrounding snowflakes, and heading straight for Roland's throat. There was no technique involved, just pure speed and power!

when!!!

Sparks flew everywhere. As if he had expected it, Roland raised his longsword to block the attack, but the force from the enemy's blade made his arm tremble slightly.

The gleaming sword was so close to his face that he could even hear the creaking sound of the enemy's sword twisting under the strain.

Casper also noticed it.

This sword has been through too many battles recently and has lacked maintenance; it should have been replaced long ago.

Since that's the case, let's change it!

He twisted forward, his longsword launching a relentless barrage of attacks, sparks flying, each strike forcing Roland to retreat half a step.

at last.

As Roland managed to raise his sword to parry again, he suddenly stretched out his left hand, fingers spread, and grabbed at the blade!

laugh.

The blade pierced his skin, penetrated his flesh, and collided with his bones. Blood streamed down Casper's palm, but he showed no intention of letting go, gripping the silver blade tightly.

He wants to take the sword!

The thought flashed through Roland's mind, but his body reacted faster than his brain.

He didn't try to take back the longsword, but instead simply loosened his grip on it with his right hand!

If you can't win by strength, then you can win by skill.

Casper's pupils contracted slightly, clearly not expecting him to abandon his sword so directly. But before he could think any further, a streak of red light came hurtling towards him from the side of his head!

That was the Scorching Pulse Javelin. Although Roland was forced back, he consciously moved closer to where the javelin had fallen. Now, with a flick of his toe, he caught it in his hand and swept it across the ground!

The runes shone brightly, their power fierce!

Casper took a half step back, unable to grasp the new sword in time, and could only raise his right arm to protect his head!

boom!

The gun slammed into his right arm, the black light contracted wildly, forcefully blocking the attack, but its brightness dropped by more than half, clearly indicating severe damage.

Casper staggered two steps, his right arm hanging down, the spot where he had been hit by the gun was torn open, black blood flowing out and dripping onto the snow.

Roland pressed forward.

With his hands gripping the javelin tightly, he used the distance advantage of this long-handled weapon to sweep it towards Casper's waist and abdomen!

Casper retreated, unable to grasp the longsword he had seized, and was forced to abandon his attack, grabbing the javelin with his bloodied right hand.

boom-

As the gun was grabbed, Casper's right hand made a cracking sound as if his bones were breaking, but he seemed to feel no pain as he raised his knee to strike Roland.

Too slow.

A cold glint flashed in Roland's eyes; he had already noticed that Casper's movements were not as swift as before.

Turn to the side, raise your arm, and press down!

His knee was suspended in mid-air, not landing on Roland. He then twisted the javelin, and the butt of the javelin slammed into Casper's knee!

Click.

The sound of the kneecap shattering could be clearly heard in the hall.

Casper groaned and knelt on one knee. The black light pulsed violently, repairing the injuries to his body, but without its suppression, the toxins in his body spread again.

But he did not fall. He forcefully supported himself with Roland's longsword and stood up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and his voice hoarse.

"Good—you're quite capable."

Roland did not rush to make a move, keeping his eyes fixed on his movements, guarding against a desperate counterattack.

Casper looked at his knee, then at the wound on his right arm. The black light was still surging, but it was already extremely faint.

Killing its three guards was too much of a loss for it.

But he was still holding the sword.

He gripped the silver-white longsword he had snatched from Roland tightly in his left hand, his right arm hanging limply, black blood staining the pure snowflakes.

"It's your turn."

He stepped forward and slashed.

The movements weren't as fast as before, but the force remained. The blade sliced ​​through the snowflakes, leaving a silvery arc. Roland parried with his spear, his forearm going numb from the impact.

The blade sliced ​​down the shaft of the spear, sparking as it cut towards the fingers gripping the javelin; the sharpness made even the pores of the skin contract.

Roland knew better than anyone how sharp this sword was; if it were to cut through, his entire hand would probably be severed!

So he took a half step back, twirled the spear in the air, and smashed the spearhead, which was covered with fiery red runes, into Casper's face.

Castor leaned back, letting the gun tip graz his nose, catching a strand of his singed hair.

In that instant, a cold glint appeared!

The sword's edge sliced ​​through the scales, leaving a bloody gash on the neck, just a hair's breadth away from an artery.

A balanced stance saved his life once again.

Roland's eyes turned cold, and he thrust the javelin into Roland's chest.

The angle of this shot was extremely tricky. If he tried to seize it, he would inevitably expose a weakness. If he tried to block it, he could take advantage of the situation to disarm the sword.

Unexpectedly, Casper did not dodge, but instead loosened his grip on the longsword, letting it slip from his fingers, while simultaneously extending his palm toward the trajectory of the javelin.

*Pfft—*

The gun tip pierced through flesh and blood, protruding from the back of his hand. Casper, unconcerned about his already crippled left hand, twisted forward, raised his drooping right hand, gripped the gun barrel, and pulled sharply!

Caught off guard, Roland was pulled toward the enemy by a powerful force, while out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a cold glint that was growing larger and larger.

Casper kicked the falling longsword back up.

This is a fighting style that trades injury for life!

The sword tip drew ever closer, its flowing silver light shattering the snowflakes, carrying the aura of death as it approached Roland.

It was too fast; there was no time to dodge.

The world fell silent.

Time slot.

Roland looked around.

Everything slowed down. Casper's blood-stained lips curled into a cold smile as his kicked longsword tore through the air, leaving a silver trail.

How to solve this?

His gaze swept over the hands gripping the javelin tightly, over the deadly arc at the edge of his vision, and over the black light flowing across Casper's body.

And then he saw it.

The only way.

Release your grip, step forward, and meet the sword.

The longsword was incredibly sharp; the leather armor briefly altered its trajectory, but it still couldn't stop it from cutting into flesh.

The cold blade pierced my left shoulder, passing under my shoulder blade and drawing out a string of blood beads. The intense pain stretched out in the gap of time, becoming a dull sensation.

Roland did not stop.

He continued forward, trying to penetrate deeper with the blade, while pressing his body close to Casper and reaching out his right hand to grab the other's waist.

The time slot has ended.

*Pfft*

Casper's blade pierced Roland's right shoulder, protruding from behind, and blood dripped down the blade.

But Casper didn't laugh; he looked down at his own body.

There, a sword also pierced through the thin black light protecting him, deeply embedded in his internal organs, and churning within them.

It was his own sword.

Roland used the same method to take his sword.

"You—" Casper began, black blood continuously dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Footsteps sounded overhead; the imperial army had finally arrived and was about to launch an attack through this passage, bypassing the solid defensive positions and heading straight into the fortress.

Roland heard this, and although his face was already pale, he did not hesitate at all and began to stir the longsword further.

Blood rained down.

Casper swayed.

He gazed at Roland, a faint smile on his face: "Good—very good."

The javelin slipped from his fingers, and he finally lost his balance, falling backward and splashing a puddle of red and black snow.

He lay on his back, staring at the hole in the dome, from which snowflakes drifted down, landing on his face and bringing a chill.

The footsteps grew closer.

"I don't want to kill you."

Roland took out a short sword made entirely of black crystal from his dimensional bag, held it to Casper's throat, and coldly asked, "Tell me the whereabouts of the Blue Crystal Heart."

Casper was stunned for a moment.

He seemed not to hear Roland's question, his gaze instead fixed quietly on the sword.

The sword was jet black, with a ruby ​​at the end shimmering in the wind and snow, its tip glowing faintly.

Then he chuckled softly.

Roland had seen him smile many times, but this time it seemed to carry something different, deeper and more complex.

"So this is it—"

He murmured to himself, his gaze never leaving the sword.

"Three months ago—my father bestowed it upon me—saying that I should take it to the Blue Crystal Mountains—and store it in the vault—"

He coughed up another mouthful of blood, but his smile deepened: "I've been thinking—when will it come in handy..."

He raised his hand, trembling, to touch the sword, but halfway up, his hand fell limply to his side.

"So it was now—after all."

Roland looked down at the Forbidden Sword.

Faint, dark patterns flowed across the sword's surface; these were inscriptions combining curses and deadly poison. Once they pierced flesh, even the soul would be corrupted, rendering any means of resurrection ineffective.

The forbidden sword.

So this is what the real "absolutely forbidden" thing is.

It's not against an enemy, it's against one's own child.

But right now, there's no time to think about that.

"Answer me," Roland's voice turned cold, "I want clues to the Blue Heart."

Casper remained silent for a few seconds, his chest rising and falling slightly, blood seeping from beneath him and spreading across the snow.

"Deep in the mountains," he finally spoke, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "I have a map on me, marking several possible locations."

Roland bent down and quickly retrieved a piece of parchment with fine lines drawn on it from inside Casper's robe, with several locations marked with blue symbols.

enough.

He stood up, looked at the Casper at his feet, and hesitated slightly.

Are you considering whether or not to kill me?

Casper smiled faintly, black blood seeping from the corner of his lips.

Roland did not speak.

Casper's gaze fell on the silver-white longsword he had already taken back, and then he looked at the forbidden sword that he knew all too well.

"Leave it to me."

He spoke softly, each word as if he were using all his strength: "This sword—I'll leave it to you."

Roland frowned, but said nothing more.

He planted the forbidden sword beside Casper, turned around and sheathed his own longsword, while picking up the javelin from the ground and carrying it on his back.

Footsteps were already close at hand, and the shouts of the Imperial soldiers could be heard clearly, but they did not come down for a long time, as if they were waiting for something.

"I'm gone."

Roland strode into the depths of darkness.

Casper did not speak again.

He simply turned his head to look at the black longsword, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Father—"

He murmured, his voice gradually swallowed by the wind and snow, "I am more worthy of being remembered than you."

His eyes gradually closed, but the smile on his lips remained frozen on his face.

In fact, he had no means to be resurrected.