I Will Be The Crowned King

"Well, that seems to be... Ambassador Maurice Périgord?!"

In the bustling banquet hall, a girl in a long turquoise green dress lit up, looking at the elf ambassador who was walking into the hall.

His dress looked a little messy, his vain steps up and down, dragging his taller than human body to look a little sloppy, and the bright light made his complexion as pale as lime.

Morris, who entered the hall, swayed and closed the door behind him.

Is there something wrong, or is it just not feeling well?

The girl blinked in confusion, but the next second she suddenly realized that this might be a good opportunity to make the elf ambassador fall in love with her!

Thinking of the meticulous elf ambassador who was taken care of by him and fell in love with him at first sight, the friends around him cast a jealous look at him one by one... The girl immediately stepped forward, pretending to care and asking for warmth:

"Oh, my esteemed Maurice Périgord, your face is not very good. Is the weather in Clovis making you a little uncomfortable?"

The girl who was full of thoughts about the other party being fascinated by her own tenderness completely forgot that the other party had lived in Clovis City for several years, and her excited heart even began to imagine the next development.

Now is his weakest time, what kind of sweet words and promises will he beg people to take him to a quiet room and take care of him carefully?

"Click."

Maurice, who was twitching slightly, drew the revolver from his arms, and the dark muzzle pressed against her smooth forehead.

Ugh?

The girl whose heart was filled with pink had a sweet smile on the corner of her mouth, not realizing what happened in reality.

"boom!"

A gunshot rang out, and the unconscious girl lay down among the blooming flowers on her forehead, her smile froze on her face.

The entire banquet hall fell into a dead silence at a loss, until a beautifully dressed lady noticed the girl lying on the ground with a look similar to her.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!"

In front of the screams and gunshots resounding throughout the castle, the stunned guests finally realized what had happened.

"My daughter—!"

Accompanied by the screams of the lady, the entire hall fell into chaos in an instant; the well-dressed guests instantly turned into panicked rabbits, shoving each other and ducking behind them.

"boom!"

The grief-stricken lady and her daughter collapsed together. Not a single figure in the panicked crowd dared to turn back, and even more desperately smashed away the guests in front of them and fled for their lives inside the banquet hall.

Fear engulfed their sanity, so that they forgot that there was only one entrance to the whole hall, that there were three companies of guards at the door, and that there was only one in the hands of Maurice Périgord who stood in front of the door. Just a gun.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!..."

In the chaos, the elf ambassador with his head bowed shot aimlessly, and the crowd who pushed each other to flee for their lives kept screaming; except for one or two unlucky people who were hit by lead bullets, they were more knocked down. Being trampled on, pushed away, smashed over delicate tables and chairs and brightly knitted rugs.

"Boom!"

He kicked a middle-aged man who almost knocked him over. Standing in the tidal crowd, Lisa desperately protected the cake in her arms. The scene in front of her reminded her of the stormy night in Thunder Castle.

It was also such a chaotic scene, and it was also a mess of mourning. During the rainstorm, only a few shots were fired on the side of my own people, just like chasing rabbits to kill the "imperial people".

Gun, what about Lisa's gun?

Suddenly, Lisa was stunned for a moment, and turned her head to look for the weapon that she had specially put in the piano case; but just as she turned around, a figure suddenly rushed up.

"Ahhhh~ I finally found you!"

The crying little maid Angelica hugged Lisa and buried her little head in her chest. Lisa, who couldn't move, was held in her arms by her.

"Don't be afraid, lovely Miss Lisa, don't be afraid!"

The flustered little maid hugged Lisa like this, with a voice that was about to cry, and she didn't know who she was comforting. She climbed under the table on a messy carpet, and the delicate cake dress was dragged by her without any scruples. on the ground.

"Don't be afraid, lovely Miss Lisa, Angelica will protect you!"

Lisa, who was hugged tightly, stuck her head out and looked at the little maid who was about to cry in confusion.

"Click, click, click..."

Morris, who had fired the last lead bullet, found that the revolver in his hand was not smoking as usual. Confused, he pulled the trigger and pointed the muzzle at himself.

"boom!"

The next second, a roar exploded behind the door of the banquet hall.

The unconscious Morris' shoulder was bloodied by the shot, and his entire body staggered forward half a step.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The door was shattered by the blast of gunfire, but not a single buckshot could touch Morris again; his tall back stood motionless, like a once-invisible wall behind him.

"boom!"

An explosion-like noise blew open the dilapidated door, and Lawrence Bernat, with a flintlock axe in both hands and a revolver in the other, stood in front of the door, and a hoarse but gentle sigh came from under his low three-cornered hat:

"Two hundred years before the saint's calendar, a sect of the old gods held a special ceremony in the countryside of Edland."

"My mother was seriously ill, and the local church and doctors were helpless, so this depraved poor man prayed to the old god, willing to use his own hand to take his mother's life."

"He succeeded."

Morris, who was standing in the same place, seemed to be stimulated, stiff, and turned his head behind him with a movement that was definitely not a humanoid. Voice.

His eyes were covered with purple bloodshots, and the blood vessels on his face burst out one by one, like a wriggling snake constantly wriggling on his face, and the open jawbone allowed transparent viscous liquid to flow out of the corners of his mouth uncontrollably.

"This poor mother's disease has been cured, and she is even healthier than before, but she has also become a sacrifice to the Three Old Gods, where all reason has been wiped out."

The elf ambassador who turned his head stared at Lawrence, raised his right hand and aimed the palm of his face at the door; Cole Dorian, who saw this scene, rushed out from behind Lawrence and raised his hand to shoot.

"boom!"

The lead bullet shot out of the gun flame exploded in the air without warning, turning into a dark, dark flame.

The flowing fireworks wandered in the air like tentacles, and then slammed into the judges standing outside the gate.

"The person who drinks this potion will be swallowed up by the power of the Three Old Gods within 192 seconds, possessing power comparable to a fifth-order spell caster, turning into a pure killing machine, until the potion burns out his vitality. !"

"Seriously, Captain, can I wait until the end of the little encyclopedia to explain this kind of explanation?!"

Cole Dorian roared and pulled the trigger, waving a pitch-black cane and rushing towards Morris, who was still standing:

"With such a hard setting introduction, even Clovis Truth is not popular anymore!"

"clang!"

The metal crash sounded, and the cane dancing with the afterimage exploded dazzling sparks in the air, but it did not touch Morris' body.

There was no surprise or hesitation on Cole's face, and he raised the "dagger" revolver and stabbed Morris in the forehead.

The gunshots sounded, but it was Cole Dorian who flew out; the figure in the black leather trench coat slammed heavily on the wall, the cracked wall and the flying masonry left no doubt at all, this was enough to take him away 's life.

At this moment, Lawrence did not go to rescue Cole, and took the opportunity to point the muzzle of the flintlock axe at the elf ambassador:

"It's called... a gift from the old gods!"

"boom!"

The scattered lead bullets blasted sparks one after another in the air, and the tall elf ambassador suddenly took a big stride, and with an extremely exaggerated posture, he avoided all the lead bullets.

There was a panicked scream in the hall.

"Everyone give me peace!"

Cole Dorian emerged from a pile of rubble, and with the bloodline of the Holy Grail Knight opened, he swung his cane and threw at Morris as if nothing was wrong, and he still had the extra thought to shout to the crowd:

"Those who don't want to die listen: we are the inquisitors of the Inquisition, and this Maurice Périgord is an old god!"

"Stand still and don't move, wait until we clear up this big trouble!"

The hot, hot flintlock axe hit him, and Maurice raised his head back quite naturally; his arms stretched out to the sides as close to a cane as he slid.

He stepped forward as if on a drum, "ordering" the sparks of the lead bullet to follow his footsteps closely on the floor.

The dark flames bloomed at his fingertips, and his body, which was spinning away from the attack of the two judges, spread to the surroundings, constantly blasting small and dazzling sparks on the ground and the surrounding midair.

"boom--!!!!"

In the exclaimed crowd, Mace Hornard, who was still sitting quietly at the table, looked at the black flames that exploded in the banquet hall like a fireworks, and even was in the mood to "class" for Anson on the side:

"Dear Anson, have you noticed - even if he loses his mind, a conjurer still has an absolute advantage within his control."

"Excellent sense of distance, ever-changing conjuration magic that can distort reality... All excellent conjurers are also excellent artists."

"And for an 'artist', his enemies are more often... more like part of his work."

At the moment of the explosion, the expressionless Lawrence blocked Cole Dorian behind him, and the dark flames washed away like a tide, burning his body.

"call--"

The next second, the Inquisitor who slashed the flames with a flintlock axe stood upright in the sea of ​​​​fire, and strode towards Morris, who was still standing there.

"Lawrence Bernat, the most experienced inquisitor of the Order of Truth, possesses the power of the bloodline of the 'Wild Hunter', has unparalleled resistance to physical damage, and complements the abilities of another descendant of 'Dorian the Executioner' …”

Taking a sip of coffee, Mace Hornard looked at the nervous Anson with a gentle smile on the corner of his mouth:

"Dear Anson, don't be so excited; tonight's banquet has just begun, and it hasn't reached its fullest."

"I've been preparing for it for a long time, so I hope that at its most dazzling moment, it will be up to you to close it - as a teacher's gift of gratitude to his best student."

The most dazzling moment...

Resisting the tension in his heart, An Sen, who pretended to be shocked, forced a smile under the watchful eyes of the black mage, excited like a child who was brought to a play by his parents for the first time.

"clang!"

The stick that was pierced straight out was stopped by the invisible "wall" again. This time, Cole Dorian suddenly twisted the handle of the stick, and a silver light bounced from the side of the stick and slashed towards Morris's head.

"It's not a cane sword, but a cane spear—how come you didn't expect it?!"

Morris, who was sideways, avoided the sharp blade that fell, and Cole Dorian, who was laughing wildly, followed him with a spear in one hand and a revolver in one hand, and his rapid figure was like lightning.

This is the true strength of the "Holy Grail Knight" talent Cole - as long as he is not injured, he has almost twice the physical strength of the peak state of ordinary people.

In a few breaths, Morris, who had the strength of a fifth-order spellcaster under the urging of the potion, was forced by the inferior judge to a situation where he could only dodge desperately, and even had no time to cast spells.

"This is also the sorrow of all spellcasters except for a very few blood mages." Mace Hornard sighed:

"We who can't have the power of bloodline are always at an absolute disadvantage in terms of physical strength-even if we have the power of superhuman reaction speed, distortion of reality, and the power to spy on people's hearts, we can't make our bodies stronger."

Anson, who kept a stiff smile, twitched his throat hard.

"boom!"

The dark flames bloomed again. Cole Dorian, who had evaded in almost ten seconds, and Lawrence behind him pulled the trigger at the same time. Twelve lead bullets, enough to blow people's heads, blew the dragon's roar, tearing the flames into pieces. Countless pieces.

This time, Maurice, who was desperately dodging, couldn't finish his spellcasting - he ran out of magic.

Conjurers need to prepare in advance to cast spells, and as an ordinary elf ambassador, it is impossible to prepare dozens or hundreds of spells for the life-and-death battle that will only be encountered with a one in ten thousand probability~www.wuxiaspot.com~ just burst The Black Flame is his last "stock".

And a conjurer without magic is just an ordinary person with a particularly good sense of distance, and it is impossible to have a speed faster than the talent and bullets.

"Pfft!"

Morris, who was hit by a buckshot in his abdomen, slumped to the ground, and Lawrence, panting in a low voice, walked over to him and put the "dagger" on top of his head.

"Maurice Périgord." Lawrence with a hoarse voice lamented:

"I don't know much about your life, but no matter what happens, you are just a used, poor elf who has become a used **** on the road of no return to the old gods, leading to the inevitable end."

"I, Lawrence Bernat, in the name of the Inquisition and by the authority bestowed upon me by the Ring of Order, hereby declare: Your fall, thus..."

"Di-!!!!"

The ominous inquisitor's whistle sounded like a devil's howl, blasting over the castle!