God-level Demon Hunter

The witcher had almost figured it out.

Golfin continues to provide vision.

He took off the heavy objects on his body and put them into the space, and the five fingers of his left hand quickly outlined a black and gold triangle charm in mid-air.

The seals of Heriot and Quinn covered the demon hunter's body, covering most of his body odor.

This is the native method learned in Kaer Morhen.

The witcher stepped on the weeds that submerged his ankles on his toes, and approached the camp without a sound, while adjusting his position until there was no barrier between him and the hound.

"A group of poachers who are greedy for profit, harvest the scalps of dryads, rob passing carriages, and are cruel and ruthless to their own kind."

"The sins are serious, and death is not a pity. Killing them all is not evil, right?"

The witcher's pupils contracted, his eyes were as cold as frozen sharp blades.

With a wave of his hand, Gabriel appeared in his palm.

The index finger squeezed the trigger falsely.

The sharp arrows on the crossbow were aimed at the dozing dachshund lying on the hay mat.

"Whoosh—" There was a rapid and slight piercing sound.

The feather arrow drew a subtle arc in midair, hit the hound's head, and broke open the skull.

"Puff..." The blood blossomed.

With a kick of his legs and a tilt of his slender head, he walked quietly into death.

Kill a hound, experience +5

The witcher's footsteps were even faster, and he quickly moved to the side, his movements and gestures were like tide water lapping on the beach, and crabs burrowing out of the waves.

Changed position, with the help of eyeliner in the sky.

"Whizzing--"

The bowstring trembled continuously.

Aim, pull the trigger, aim, pull the trigger.

Five headshots in a row, like the sickle of death, precise and silent, the watchman, the four scalp hunters in the tent unknowingly lost their lives!

There were five dead bodies in the camp.

击杀皮耶特……经验值+20*5，（猎魔人Lv7，7800/4500）

"It is my last mercy to let you die without pain."

After five times.

The rest of the poachers were completely covered by tents.

Golfin couldn't find the shooting angle either.

Roy retracted the hand crossbow, grabbed the one-eyed monster bone dagger from the void, and turned his wrist to draw a few cold lights.

He bent his knees and squatted, and slowly sneaked towards a tent.

……

A hand protruded from the dim tent, wearing a black leather glove, and firmly pressed the mouth of a bald middle-aged man lying on his back.

At the same time, the other hand swiped horizontally across the neck like lightning.

"Pfft..."

"Um..."

The trachea was disconnected, the aorta ruptured, and the blood splashed onto the attacker like a fountain, but was bounced away by an invisible membrane.

The bald man woke up from his sleep, his eyes widened, and he let out a few "huh" in a weak and frightened manner.

But it only lasted for a moment, and soon lost all strength and remained motionless.

……

"sixth."

After getting the kill prompt, the demon hunter reported the number in his head.

Drilling out of the tent, the dark golden pupils swept to the left, a canvas tent with white lily patterns graffitied, under the thin quilt inside, the graceful curve of the figure can be vaguely seen.

"woman?"

The witcher observed the left side, and the sleeping figure in the blind spot on the right suddenly sat up.

A man with a cockscomb hair and a mouthful of rotten teeth happened to stand up suddenly, and saw the attacker who was kneeling and squatting like a ghost at a glance.

"Someone! Wake up!"

There was a sudden exclamation in the camp.

Then the bowstring trembled.

A cloud of blood exploded on Cockscomb's head, and he sat back with his round eyes staring!

But it was too late, and the remaining poachers all woke up.

Pulling the weapon beside him, shouting loudly, he rushed towards the demon hunter like a gust of wind.

Chapter 11 Maria Balin

"Whoosh-"

A crossbow bolt hits a poacher in the forehead.

He charged at the front, closest to the witcher.

However, this distance within reach has turned into an insurmountable gap.

Anger and fear were all solidified on the big face covered with flesh.

He fell back hard.

"Whoosh-"

The second poacher who rushed to the neck was shot with an arrow, wailed like a beast, bent and knelt down to the big iron pot on the campfire, and smashed the pot of leftovers.

While other people surrounded, swords, axes, and maces swished loudly.

The witcher wielding his long sword advanced instead of retreating.

"Shh-"

Facing a sharp sword that was stabbing at his chest, he turned extremely nimbly, avoiding the blade with ease.

Gu Weishir turned with him, drawing a proper semicircle in front of the man, tearing open the fragile flesh and blood.

The man seemed to be sending himself to the sword blade, clutching the rectangle around his neck, spraying blood and falling down, the blood stained the grass.

A second man swings a mace and smashes it into the side of his face.

The witcher sharply lowered his body slightly, and returned a sword from bottom to top like a thunderbolt. The blade was extremely tricky, passed the mace that was overflowing with wind, pierced the gap in the man's armor, and pierced into his armpit.

"Tick tock..."

Blood dripped down the sharp blade and pooled at the witcher's feet, staining his boots red.

It piles up.

Soon, the blood on the ground seemed to be instantly ignited by some kind of substance.

Rich blood-colored flames rose up, covering the witcher's boots, tights, and gray-black Wyvern armor, twisting and cohesive like life.

The several poachers who came under siege were shocked, their eyes widened as if they had been hit by a hold spell——

The scarlet tentacles grow piece by piece, and the wrists and abdomen are covered with suction cups. The bloody flames burning all over its body are mixed with a trace of black aura.

It nestled behind the demon hunter, swinging in the wind, like a loyal guard, the surrounding space had invisible ripples like water waves, and the suction cup on its wrist was like a swaying wind chime.

Ding bell, ding dong.

Trills of pain and fear.

The strange sound was desperately drilled into his mind.

The unbearable past is tumbling crazily.

There was an uncontrollable panic in everyone's heart.

The arm holding the weapon trembled.

I couldn't help but backed away, moving slowly.

And Roy jumped into the hesitant crowd.

The tentacles vacated in the air cling to him back and forth, moving among the crowd at an extremely fast speed.

The long sword broke.

The bloody tentacles made a charged pounce, obeyed its orders, and immediately rolled towards the target pointed by the sword.

Clinging to death!

The huge gap in will makes the recruiters unable to resist and unable to move.

The brain trembles in fear!

The tentacles frantically scrolled.

And Guwahir, bathed in bloody flames, gleamed and sang.

This is a song of blood written with a sword that is as light as a feather, and the torso and limbs cannot stop its sharpness.

The scorching blood sprayed onto the flowing Quen Seal.

The witcher had no time to wipe.

Panting, swinging the sword.

ten seconds.

Dead bodies lay beneath their feet.

"call--"

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and with a wave of his hand, the red spell in his palm ejected Igni Fury, dragged the dazzling flame, and hit a fleeing man.

The thin leather armor and brown hair were dyed with flames, and the man rolled on the ground crying, exuding the smell of meat.

"Bang!" The demon hunter in the middle of the pile of corpses and pool of blood swung his sharp sword and slammed an incoming arrow.

Dark Gold's pupils locked on the last enemy.

A guy who's firing an arrow.

A tall, well-built woman.

The witcher ran towards her in a few steps.

Regardless.

The gray feather arrow was directly bounced off by Kun En on the surface of his body.

Knowing that there was no escape, she dropped her bow and arrow, gritted her teeth, pulled out the short blade on her belt and rushed towards the man.

The two figures hurriedly crossed each other.

The dagger was blown away.

The sharp and razor-sharp Guvithir, especially with blood temperature, reached the woman's neck and cut the skin.

An intuition forced the witcher to back down.

"Don't, don't kill me!"

"I'm not a poacher!" the woman yelled, raising her hands, her cheek muscles twitching, her face showing fear for the first time since the battle, "I'm not with them! I swear!"

"You just started."

The dark golden pupils swept across her body indifferently, and the witcher asked seriously.

Maria Ballin