MTL - Kingdom’s Bloodline-Chapter 660 No way, daniel

  Chapter 660 No, Daniel

  She turned her head in the woods and smiled at him, her milky complexion gleaming in the morning sun and mist, making her unique.

  And he can only look at her stupidly. His confidence, arrogance, and freedom in front of others are useless at this moment.

  The only thing he can do is try to hide the bunch of flowers behind him.

  But as smart as her, she had seen the flowers in his hand long ago and saw through the embarrassment on his face.

   "No, Daniel," she flushed, "You are the young master. You are shown to be ashamed of me."

  To be ashamed of me...

  Ashamed of me...

mine……

of……

  But—he is getting more embarrassed and at a loss—what should I do? Tell her, is it because he worked so hard to collect it all the way along Jinghe?

  A chill came.

  Her voice sounded again, but it was as cold as frost:

  【No way, Daniel. 】

  On the corridor on the second floor, D.D woke up suddenly, and at the moment of his death, he raised his arm with a sword, and opened a deadly sword that came to his face: Dang!

  Oops-metal collided, D.D gritted his teeth desperately-why did you lose your mind at this time?

  But the reality does not allow him to think too much. The enemy’s second sword is like a shadow, forcing him to recall the most basic swordsmanship steps: side steps, turning around, and blocking, while leaving the most suitable space for counterattacks...

  Just like what the old knight taught.

  Yes, the old knight, that annoying old man with a red nose, was lying awkwardly on his knight training ground, which used to be crowded, but now full of sour scent, surrounded by spit out filth.

"You know, little Danny," the old knight raised his head drunkly, groping for his bottle, muttering crazy things he didn't understand, "As knights, we should swing swords for the weak, but the reality is, If we don't swing the sword for the strong, we don't even have a sword-this point, the broken tower can be seen more transparently than us."

  As an attendant under the door, he could only cover his mouth and nose in disgust, thinking that today's morning exercise might have been ruined again.

   "So, little Danny, our smartest thing is to get a drink until dawn when you have to swing a sword for the strong! Hahaha, cheers, my little attendant!"

  The old knight moved the empty wine bottle to his mouth, shook violently, and fell on his back again, into the disgusting filth:

   "So **** swordsmanship! To **** knights! To **** Emperor Feng! To **** standing army! To **** troubled times will end! To **** empire for eternity!"

  A sense of tension suddenly hits my mind.

  The words of the old knight were repeated in his ear, but it was deafening:

  【Fuck the empire forever! 】

  D.D was shocked, and he realized that he was on the second-floor corridor of the Diop Mansion, facing the sword wind roaring.

   But he has no time to dodge, so he can only stand against it.

boom!

   With a muffled noise, Doyle fell into a room on the second floor with a sword. He grinned and felt pain everywhere.

"Concentrate," the old knight was extremely severe, even the lips and whiskers on his mouth exploded like a hedgehog. He hit Doyle's slanted swordsman with a stick, causing the latter to hiss, "If you really can't concentrate, Then use pain to help yourself-no, pinching yourself is a fart, think about your most painful, most unbearable and uncomfortable memories, the kind that you can’t escape, experience over and over again in your mind, and then, trust me , You will find that it is so happy to wield the sword and practice the sword boringly."

what happened?

  D.D shook his head desperately, got up from the ground trembling, and picked up his sword.

  Attentive, attentive, attentive.

  He retreated to the window and confirmed to himself over and over again that this was in the Emerald City, at the scene of the murder, not the training ground of the old knight when he was a child.

  The sound of footsteps came, and the enemy carried a knight's sword and walked into the room from the dark corridor, with a cold breath all over his body.

  Under sufficient light, Doyle could see the whole picture of the other party clearly, and his pupils shrank.

  The man who walked into the room had a very special outfit.

I saw that his whole body, chest, arms, legs and feet, and crotch were tightly wrapped in black cloth of unknown material, without revealing even a little skin and features, and even his head was covered in a dark black face scarf and headscarf. Only the eyes are wearing a pair of dark action goggles.

  He is—D.D looks at each other’s costume in disbelief—afraid of being recognized?

   Still accustomed to late night action, a full-time killer?

"you--"

  D.D worked hard and endured, not letting the phrase "Aren't you too panic" blurt out:

   "What was the trick just now?"

  The black-clothed killer stood before him.

"You are much weaker than him," the assassin behind the dark goggles gently turned the sword in his hand, his voice was cold, "The big guy is very hard, at least for eight rounds, hitting three swords and still holding on. fall."

  D.D is an exciting spirit, thinking of his comrades-in-arms.

   "What did you do to Glover?"

  D.D moved his steps and carefully looked towards the corridor:

   "Zombie, how are you?"

  But Glover did not answer.

  The other party said that the zombie carried at least eight rounds...

   Damn it, I blame this **** corridor, if I arrived earlier, flanking back and forth...

  But Doyle reacted immediately, panicking in his heart: Oh, now, he is the only one left.

  The black killer sneered:

   "But it's also too strong."

  The voice fell, the enemy deceived him, and the sword raided!

   No matter how flustered, D.D also had to bite the bullet and raise his sword to meet the enemy, and he was able to open a sword.

  Damn, the enemy's sword is very stable, fierce and deadly.

  He gritted his teeth and said to himself: How could you have such a bad luck?

  But it’s not the most difficult one, but what’s more terrible is...

"Hold your head up! You are my son! You are a man from the Doyle family! Humph, it's a big thing, and it's worth scaring you..." The old man akimbo arrogantly and gave him a meal. chatter.

  In my impression, this is the most prestigious time of the old baron.

  No, here again!

  D.D shook his head desperately, pulled himself from a state of distraction back to reality, struggling to block the sword that the opponent had reached before him-did Glover say that? Distracted while hitting, fell down?

  But he, Danny Doyle, the socialist of the guard, is weak—hehe, he is someone who has other strengths!

  In terms of swordsmanship, about fighting, about marching and fighting, about the degree of reliability, he is not as good as Glover!

  Why let him come into danger and fight the enemy life and death!

   Isn’t this what the protagonist should do?

  The enemy's sword moves fiercely, but D.D only feels powerless. After a while, he hits a sword in his left hand and has to stagger back.

How to do how to do?

what to do?

  D.D had to parry while shaking his head desperately, trying hard to think about the current things, and avoid falling into inexplicable distractions.

  When will the support of the prince and Terrorblade come! Just that scary Morgan, or that tugging Nexi, even that Aaron is good!

  He can't hold it alone!

  No, wait, does he really have support? Does Mallos know he is here?

  No way, no way, concentrate on it, don’t think about anything else, quickly think about how to save your life-can you jump the window? Find a more attractive posture to land? This shameless guy can't chase him all the way in broad daylight, chase him to Kongming Palace!

  Ah, no, the zombie is still in the hallway. What if he walks away from this big guy-hey speaking, I blame this stupid big guy. Go **** before and after!

  With confusion and confusion, Doyle's flaw was finally caught by the enemy. The black-clothed killer sneered and pierced through his defense!

  [Think about your most painful, most unbearable and uncomfortable memories, the kind that you can’t escape, experience over and over again in your mind, and then...]

  The words of the old knight sounded again, but this time, he was particularly severe.

  D.D was taken aback.

  The tip of the enemy's sword approached his head, and there was no way to avoid it.

  The girl’s voice resounded in the void:

   [No, Daniel... I will be ashamed. 】

  At that moment, D.D only felt a sorrow in his heart.

No.

   Hum.

  His heart contracted violently.

No.

  D.D trembled and thought of something.

  In an instant, he subconsciously moved, dodges, resisted, and avoided the fatal blow at the cost of being slashed by the opponent's shoulders.

   "Huh?" A hit was missed, and the black killer questioned.

  【...To be ashamed of me. 】

No.

  His body is moving, but his heart is wailing weakly:

It hurts.

No.

  【...Ashamed of me. 】

  The pain spreads from the heart and spreads throughout the body, awakening the power of end that has been sleeping for a long time, and uttering endless wailing together:

It hurts!

No.

No.

No.

  【You are the young master...No way. 】

"No!!!"

  With a heartache, D.D screamed angrily, as if to tear all the perception before him!

At this moment, his power of ending covered his brain like a spider, and the spider feet plunged into his flesh and blood, grabbing all his attention and spirit with unparalleled pain, ordering him to forget those distracting images, order He moves, sinks his shoulders, swings his sword...

   Clang!

  During the metal fight, D.D breathed in a trance, the spider of the power of the end still covered his brain, shaking his legs and feet relentlessly and coldly, but could not solve the pain in his heart.

  Block, progress, forcing opponents to defend...

  This sword lures the enemy, the next sword counterattack...

  Find a good location, prepare for the ultimate move...

  The feelings of the past traveled through time, returning to his consciousness and body, those swordsmanship and tactics that he thought he had forgotten for a long time.

but why……

  Why, he still hurts so much!

   "I missed it," the black-clothed assassin swiftly swung his sword, his figure getting faster and faster, but he still had the power to speak, "You are bigger than that--huh?"

  D.D is not in the mood to listen to his nonsense, the pain with nowhere to go overwhelms his perception like the waves, making him suffocate, and he can only vent his anger by roaring:

"No!"

  唰!

  Finally, Doyle's sword broke through the opponent's defense, and hit the opponent's chest in a "triumphal blow" by the old knight professor!

  Like a duel of ancient knights, a sword at the last moment.

   Clang!

  Unprecedented metal collision sounded, the black-clothed assassin was slightly embarrassed, but still successfully stopped this killer move, retreating seven or eight steps, until he exited the room.

   Damn it!

  D.D roared in his heart: Why—why did it not hit, why not lethal!

Hold!

  The ruthless spider in his brain started to move again, which made him instantly calm down and immediately realized that the killer in front of him was a master of swordsmanship.

  Even his strongest killer...

   "Your ‘Triumphal Strike’ was too scattered and too soft. It was supported by a strong mouthful," the black-clothed killer stopped outside the room, silently looking at Doyle, who could not help but breathe, "I haven’t practiced enough."

  D.D was startled for a moment.

"Are you Joaquin’s student? Or his student’s student?" The black-clothed assassin spoke slowly and walked into the room slowly, "Even if you have been a knight attendant, you can learn the'ten styles of the legion', including triumphant strikes. ,Right?"

  Joaquin.

As soon as the name    came out, D.D's thoughts paused for a second.

"Yes, Danny Doyle, these things you learn will be useful, even if the **** years are over, even if the knight is no longer an honor," the old knight's stick is still fierce, and the beating hurts terribly, and he , He just wondered when the get out of class would be over and he could go to her, "You will face that moment, and everyone will, whether it is with a sword or with a life."

  Joaquin.

  Joaquin...

  The spider in the brain moved again, pulling D.D back to reality.

  I saw the black-clothed killer sneer, but changed his hand to another sword stand, and his momentum changed accordingly.

  Strict, atmospheric and strong.

  Majestic and majestic.

  But D.D looked at the opponent's posture, but was stunned.

  This familiar feeling...

  In the next second, before he could react, the black-clothed killer's offensive resumed, and the two swords of D.D intersected between the lightning and flint!

  The black-clothed killer attacks, spins, and dodges.

  D.D is to block, improve, and counterattack.

  One move and one style, the two attacked and defended to respond extremely smoothly, just like perfectly inlaid building blocks.

  It seems that I have practiced against each other thousands of times.

  This round did not last too long, and the two were divided at the touch of a button.

  D.D looked at the black-clothed killer in shock, and the opponent also looked at Doyle through the goggles on the mask.

  "This is the'marching style', the starting style of the legion ten style," D.D said in a daze, "you, old Joaquin, no...who are you? Who is teacher Joaquin's? Are you also his student?"

  At that moment, the figure of the old knight did not disappear, but became more vivid, overlapping with the person in front of him.

  But...No, it's impossible.

  According to my father, the students of the old Joaquin, the attendants, and the ancestors who are older than D.D for several rounds, aren’t they all in the Scarlet Year...

   "No wonder."

  The black killer didn't answer him, but smiled to himself.

  His laughter was cold and scary, hoarse and unpleasant.

   "No wonder you are like him," the black-clothed killer slowly said, with deep-seated hatred between the lines, "I am a loser."

  As soon as the voice fell, the black-clothed assassin suddenly bowed his knees!

  D.D raised the sword subconsciously, but found that the opponent was not attacking him, but dodge.

  咻!

  A sharp sword light appeared on the black-clothed assassin's head, which was a bit worse.

  In the next second, the black assassin turned around and took out his sword without stopping, and had three swords back and forth with the sneak attacker!

  While body shape is in circulation, the black-clothed killer has a sharp sword wind, and the sneak attackers are forced back.

  Seeing the visitor clearly, D.D's eyebrows are overjoyed.

   "Why, the Royal Guard," the black-clothed killer looked at each other, "Are there any women now?"

  The sneak attacker shook his sword, and said coldly: "There will be soon."

   "Mrs. Miranda!"

  D.D exhaled, only to feel that it was dawn:

   "Thank God you finally—be careful!"

  Before speaking, the black-clothed killer once again took out his sword and attacked Miranda who came to help!

  But the female swordsman was unwilling to show weakness, and the sword light flashed continuously, facing the enemy.

  "Tianma music chapter," After two rounds, the black-clothed killer still had free time to speak in the battle, "The kind that is best recognized-but the kind that is best dealt with."

  Miranda frowned, and the sword became more vigorous.

   "He has powers!"

  D.D was unable to intervene, so he reminded him in a hurry:

  "Can disturb the mind..."

  But he reminded it was late.

  In the eyes of D.D, Miranda's eagle swam rhythmically towards the black-clothed killer, but on the way he paused and hung down obliquely.

  It's like falling asleep suddenly.

  Miranda's eyes trembled, and her lips kept trembling:

   "Okay, but mom, you are not allowed to peek, you have to count to a hundred before you can come out to find me..."

   And the black assassin sneered, and the blade went to Miranda's neck.

Oops!

  Doyle roared and rushed to Miranda, but he was too late.

  No, no, no!

"boom!"

  Only a muffled sound was heard, a figure rammed in from the door and threw the black-clothed killer against the wall!

  Miranda fell to the ground and shook her head vigorously, trying to recover her consciousness.

   "Stiff—Glover!"

  Seeing the enemy being suppressed, D.D was surprised and delighted:

   "Ah, you're not dead yet-hell, flanking back and forth..."

  But Glover ignored him.

  At this moment, the zombie is covered in blood and looks like crazy. He strangled the black-clothed killer's neck and pressed him to the wall, his beard and hair were stretched, and he shook his head in pain:

   "Teto, little Teto... asshole, what are you doing in my mind?"

  But after only a moment, Glover trembled all over and let go of the black assassin.

   "No, no! Okay, I don’t cry, I don’t cry, I don’t shake, I will lift this apple..."

   With a plop, Glover fell to his knees, his face full of fear.

"I know, my ability." Under DD's incredible gaze, the black-clothed killer sorted out the clothes that had been torn apart by Glover, and shook his head with a tut, "I tried my best to converge, but... you know, this Just like instinct, no matter how you hide it, you will eventually show your feet and show your true shape."

  He stretched out his hand indifferently, pushed down the lost Glover, stepped forward, retrieved his sword, and looked at D.D again.

  Doyle looked at his companions in shock: Glover leaned against the wall, shaking constantly, while Miranda lay on the ground and tried to get up.

  He then reacted, feeling cold in his heart:

  How come I am the only one left?

   "You are very young," the black-clothed killer turned his head, crackling between the joints, "Should Joaquin hire you in his old age?"

   "It's really unfortunate, no matter to you or to him."

  Seeing the opponent approaching step by step, D.D swallowed.

  Yes, it was really not lucky to be accepted by that old alcoholic knight.

"You are too weak, little Daniel, you can't bear hardship, you don't have perseverance, let alone the will to see death as home. Alas, I'm afraid that you won't be able to develop the power of ending in this life, and you won't be a knight," the old knight After taking a sip of wine, under the sky full of stars, sighed to him, "But it's okay, you know, some people, even if they have the power of ending, are not worthy of being a knight."

  Damn it, here again, that guy’s power!

  D.D patted his head desperately.

  【No way, Daniel. 】

  A familiar and terrifying voice rang in my ears.

  It evokes countless pains, allowing D.D to dispel memories and try to defeat the killer's ability in front of him.

"The Royal Guard," the spider climbed back onto his brain, entered his consciousness in pain, ordered Doyle to return to the mansion, and ordered him to gritt his teeth and raise the sword. "The Royal Guard will not let go. By yours."

  Well, you don’t have to count on Terrorblade.

  I don’t know, will the Bridge Guardian help him get revenge?

  For the sake of the old part anyway?

  "The Royal Guard? I have encountered three, indeed, all of them are very strong." The black killer didn't care, and approached D.D step by step, "I only killed one of them."

   Kill a royal guard...

  D.D clicked in his heart, subconsciously posing "marching style".

  The black-clothed killer sneered behind his face mask:

  "Will you be the second one?"

  Doyle glanced at Glover and Miranda and smiled.

  The spider in the brain fiddled with his nerves mercilessly, forcing him to speak:

   "I hope it will be the last one."

  The black-clothed killer was silent for a few seconds, then slowly raised his sword.

  At this moment, Miranda finally woke up, panting and speaking:

   "Window."

  Doyle stared at the black killer intently, and was startled when he heard the words:

   "What window?"

   Pop it!

  In an instant, in a burst of noise, the glass on the window shattered, shocking D.D!

  咚!

   With a muffled noise, the black-clothed assassin subconsciously raised his hand to block, followed by a violent stop, and fell to the ground.

  In the glass **** that fell all over the ground, D.D was surprised to see: a long arrow pierced the arm of the black-clothed killer, and the point of the arrow went straight into his chest, not knowing how deep it was.

  Doyle turned his head subconsciously:

  Outside the window, on the roof opposite the mansion, Paul Bozdorf has a calm expression, standing with a bow, orderly hitting the second arrow.

  The silly big guy is right.

  It's still the Western Wilderness who shoots accurately!

  The black-clothed assassin cursed, propped his sword on the ground, and howled and rushed out of the room.

  He is injured and can't run far!

  D.D refreshed, and just wanted to call on the zombies in the room and the Invincible Northland Iron Woman Warrior to pursue them, but they all fell in the room, unable to get up, let alone pursue them.

  But he immediately reacted:

  Hey, this is not my chance for Danny Doyle to stand alone and make great achievements, exhale and raise my eyebrows to regain the little puppet bear!

  Thinking about it, Doyle subconsciously took a step forward, chasing the black killer.

  Haha, this birdman covered in black cloth from head to toe is nothing more than that!

  But as soon as he took the second step, in D.D's brain, the spider of the power of the end relentlessly retracted its legs and feet.

  At that instant, the arms, wrists, calves, back, and the scars left by the fight with the black-clothed killer suddenly returned to D.D's feeling. It hurt so much that he shouted and fell down with a thump.

  Fuck!

  How come it hurts so much!

   "Don't worry, we are just the first batch of support. There are still nets outside the house." Miranda rubbed her temples and gritted her teeth. "You don't need to chase, he can't escape - ah, this **** illusion."

Is it.

  In that case, eh.

  D.D made up his mind in the pain of his whole body, and gave himself up:

  The opportunity to make great achievements should be given to others-there must be someone who needs it more than me.

Moreover……

  Thinking of the skill of the black-clothed assassin just now, D.D panted exhaustedly, feeling lingering.

  【No way, Daniel. 】

  D.D trembled abruptly.

  This is, what is this?

  The black assassin, didn’t he escape?

  Why, why is his power still affecting me...

  【No way, Daniel. 】

  At this moment, Danny Doyle stared at the unconscious Glover, suddenly feeling a cold on his wrist.

  That is a drop of water.

It's raining?

  No, it's not rain.

  One drop, two drops, three drops...more and more drops of water fell on his hands.

  The next second, the spider lying in his brain completely retracted.

  D.D was taken aback.

  How...what's going on?

  In the messy room, D.D trembled and realized that before she knew it, she had already burst into tears.

  (End of this chapter)