My Players Are So Fierce

496: 171.

Your family really keeps things under wraps_3

496: 171.

Your family really keeps things under wraps_3

—

“Put me down!

You better run!”

On the other side of the foggy battlefield, the scout Miss Anbo sighed weakly:

“We’re on the edge of the mist.

Hurry up and get help.

Whether these five hundred people can survive depends on you.”

“Everything’s so chaotic, how am I supposed to run?”

The one carrying her, Bull Bull, grumbled:

“Damn it, you’re worthless!

You’re a skilled scout but your luck is always miserable.

I remember you were the first one to fall in Morlan village, right?

By the way, I’ve been wanting to ask you, was your eye injury caused by us last time?”

“No.”

Two arrows were stuck in Miss Anbo’s back.

Given a psychic hunter’s physical condition, two arrows wouldn’t usually be fatal.

However, the psychic hunters were apparently less honorable than the witch hunters.

Those pragmatists had added a Weakness spell to their arrows, making it hard for Miss Anbo to even walk.

She hung on Bull Bull’s back and spun around in the chaotic fog like a headless fly, dizzy from the spell-induced weakness.

At Bull Bull’s question, she replied while gasping for breath:

“It was a poison used by a vampire torturer, but it didn’t completely blind me.

It just makes my eyes super sensitive to light and…

turns the color of my pupils strange.

That’s why I’m wearing an eyepatch…

Hold on!

There are people coming.

Put me down!

Walk quietly.”

Bull Bull promptly placed Miss Anbo on the ground, then, with the one-handed war hammer and the Falcon Shield in his hands, crouched beside her.

Miss Anbo, short of breath, set up her rifle.

Although her forehead was covered with sweat, she still gritted her teeth and maintained clarity.

In the dispersing darkness of the fog, she spotted three people approaching cautiously.

It was two psychic hunters guarding a panicky psychic.

Seemed like they were trying to flee from the battlefield.

Miss Anbo gave a very professional hand signal.

However, Bull Bull, who was too nervous about the upcoming ambush, completely ignored his teammate’s warning, causing Miss Anbo to sigh helplessly.

She aimed and fired when Bull Bull suddenly stood up and charged.

With a “Bang”, the psychic hunter acting as a guard had a hole blown through his neck and collapsed convulsively, only to be stabbed in the eye with a throwing knife that Miss Anbo mustered the last of her strength to throw.

The other guard was struck in the face by the sudden uprising student’s shield, becoming dizzy, only to get hit in the head with the spiked single-handed war hammer held by the witch hunter.

Hey!

The Skull-splitting Hammer, kid!

However, immediately after that, Bull Bull was sent flying from his spot by the psychic’s flaming assault, landing awkwardly after rolling twice.

Miss Anbo tried to throw another knife, but was choked by the psychic’s suffocating grip, writhing in pain.

Could Bull Bull, the young man with a chauvinistic streak, stand for this?

She was the NPC he had painstakingly won over!

If she was killed now, wouldn’t all the efforts he put in be wasted?

Spit!

Die, bastard!

“Thump”

The one-handed hammer was thrown like a flying hammer, hitting the psychic’s collision absorbing shield.

However, this barbaric attack from the battle enthusiast didn’t cause any harm to the haughty magic user.

While the latter gave Bull Bull a bitter look, the athlete pulled out his Vampire Family Wing Blade.

With the shield in his right hand leading, his body crouched, he charged forward.

Speaking of which, the skill “charge” is not as practical as one would imagine in a 100% realistic game, especially for players with poor athletic ability.

Using it can make them experience shortness of breath and dizziness.

In severe cases, it can even cause vomiting.

However, athletes with excellent motor skills don’t have this problem.

Bull Bull was probably one of the best players among the current 70 who are adept at using “charge”.

His aim was precise, his speed extreme, and he successfully transferred the kinetic energy accumulated to the Falcon Shield and launched an onslaught.

“Boom!”

The psychic’s shield finally shattered.

Under his astonished gaze, the blood-red Vampire Wing Blade sliced across his robe, leaving a bone-deep bloody mark.

“Ah!”

The psychic screamed.

He knew he’d underestimated this strange Blood Servant who mixed with the witch hunters, but it didn’t matter.

He was a noble sorcerer.

As long as he could create some distance, he could surely…

“Urgh!”

Bull Bull tilted his shield, revealing the crossbow hidden behind it, the string already drawn.

With the player’s unique refusal to play by the rules, he pulled the trigger at a very close range.

The emerald hunting arrow spun and buried into the psychic’s waist, causing such pain he couldn’t even teleport.

The Circle Tower might not abide by any rules, but the witch hunters’ hunting arrows were not just for causing pain.

These things attached themselves like rooted vines, and in just a few seconds, rendered the psychic numb from his waist down.

Chao, it’s like his little hook had been cut!

He couldn’t feel it!

Poison!

This damn Blood Servant used poison!

How cunning and despicable!

No principle!

I’ll take you down with me today, sorcerer!

Pushed to desperation, the psychic had no choice but to fight back.

His powerful Arcane Rupture hit Bull Bull’s shield, cracking it completely.

But the bulled-up athlete was red-eyed, and with a sword in both hands, he lunged and hacked regardless of the burning pain from the Flame of Sacrifice.

Miss Anbo from behind was struggling to crawl to her rifle.

She picked it up and was about to cover for her warrior, only to have her shoulder held down by a hand from behind.

“He doesn’t need you.

He can deal with tough foes himself.

He has become tough enough, like a bull with grown horns…

a Transylvanian saying ‘dare to provoke a bull and you must pay the price.’”

The voice of Murphy entered into Miss Anbo’s ear.

Cadman Earl, who was wiping his bloody lips with a handkerchief and looking elegant, lifted his head.

Just after having his meal, he watched his warrior’s battle with the psychic, appreciatively.

He said softly,

“Dear Miss Unlucky Anbo, please understand.

This is a man’s battle, and a wise woman should know not to intervene.

You just need to stand by, ready to applaud and kiss the victor.

That’s all.”