She turned her head in the forest and smiled at him, her milky complexion shining in the morning light and mist, which was unique.

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

The only thing he could do was to try his best to hide the bouquet of flowers behind him.

But as smart as she was, she had already seen the flowers in his hands and saw through the embarrassment on his face.

"No, Daniel," she said with a slight blush on her face, "You are the young master. If someone sees you, I will be embarrassed to death."

It would embarrass me to death...

I'm so ashamed...

mine……

of……

But he became more and more embarrassed and at a loss as to what to do. Should he tell her that he had worked so hard to pick it all the way along the Mirror River?

A chill came over me.

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

【No, Daniel.】

In the corridor on the second floor, D.D suddenly woke up. At the critical moment, he raised his arm and drew his sword, blocking a deadly sword that came towards him: Bang!

Oops, metal collides, D.D grits his teeth, why is he distracted at this time?

But the reality did not allow him to think too much. The enemy's second sword followed him like a shadow, forcing him to recall the most basic steps of swordsmanship: side step, spin, block while leaving the most suitable space for counterattack...

Just like the old knight taught.

Yes, the old knight, that annoying red-nosed old man, is now lying unsteadily on his knight training ground, which was once bustling with people, but now is full of the sour smell of wine, surrounded by vomited filth.

"You know, little Danny," the old knight raised his head drunkenly, groping for his bottle in a daze, mumbling crazy words that he couldn't understand, "as knights, we are supposed to wield swords for the weak, but the reality is,

If we don't wield the sword for the strong, we don't even have the sword, and that broken tower can see much more clearly than we can."

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

"So, little Danny, the smartest thing we can do is to stay drunk until dawn when you have to wield the sword for the strong! Hahaha, cheers, my little squire!"

The old knight moved the empty wine bottle to his mouth, shook it vigorously, and then fell forward again, pouring it into the disgusting filth:

"So fuck the swordsmanship! Damn the knights! Damn the imperial wind! Damn the standing army! Damn the troubled times! Damn the eternal empire!"

A sense of tension suddenly hit my heart.

The old knight's words were repeated in his ears, but they were deafening:

【Fuck Empire Eternal!】

D.D was shocked, and then he realized that he was in the corridor on the second floor of Diop's mansion, facing the whistling sword wind.

But he had no time to dodge and could only block.

boom!

With a muffled sound, Doyle fell into a room on the second floor with his sword. He bared his teeth and felt pain everywhere in his body.

"Concentrate," the old knight was extremely stern, even the whiskers on his mouth exploded like a hedgehog. He hit Doyle's crooked sword-holding hand with a stick, making the latter hiss and shrink, "If you really can't concentrate,

Then use pain to help yourself, pinching yourself is useless, think about it, think about your most painful, unbearable and uncomfortable memories, the kind that you can't escape, experience them over and over again in your mind, and then, believe me, you

You will find that it is such a happy thing to not think about anything and practice swordsmanship boringly."

what happened?

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

Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.

He retreated to the window and confirmed to himself over and over again that this was the Emerald City, 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 walked into the room from the dark corridor carrying a knight's sword, with a cold aura all over his body.

Under sufficient light, Doyle could see the other party's entire face clearly, and his pupils could not help but shrink.

The man who walked into the room was so uniquely dressed.

His whole body, chest, arms, legs, feet, and crotch were all tightly wrapped in black cloth of unknown material, without even a trace of skin or features being exposed. Even his head was covered in a dark black scarf and turban.

Only his eyes were covered with a pair of dark action goggles.

Is he looking at the other person's attire in disbelief, afraid of being recognized?

Or is he a killer who is used to operating late at night and specializes in hunting?

"you"

D.D tried his best to endure it, not letting the words "Don't you think it's too hard to hold it in" come out:

"What was that trick just now?"

The killer in black stood in front of him.

"You are much weaker than him," the killer behind the dark goggles gently turned the sword in his hand, with a cold voice, "That big guy is very tough, he carried it for at least eight rounds, and he still couldn't hold on even after being hit by three swords.

fall."

D.D was agitated, thinking of his comrades.

"What did you do to Glover?"

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

"Zombie, are you okay?"

But Glover didn't answer.

The other party said that the zombies lasted at least eight rounds...

Damn it, it’s all this damn corridor. If I had arrived earlier and attacked from both sides...

But Doyle reacted immediately and panicked: Oops, now he is the only one left.

The black-clothed killer sneered:

"But it's only too strong."

As soon as the words fell, the enemy stepped forward and struck with a long sword!

No matter how panicked he was, D.D had no choice but to brace himself and raise his sword to face the enemy, barely able to deflect a blow.

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

He gritted his teeth and said to himself: How could this unfortunate thing happen?

But this is not the most difficult thing, what is more terrible is...

"Lift your head! You are my son! You are a man of the Doyle family! Humph, even if it's a big fart, it's worth scaring you like this..." The father arrogantly put his hands on his hips and gave him a slap in the face.

chatter.

In my impression, this was the most majestic time for the old baron.

No, here we go again!

D.D shook his head desperately, brought himself back to reality from his distracted state, and struggled to block the opponent's sword that was already in front of him. Is this how Grover got into trouble? He lost his focus and fell down when he hit him?

But he, Danny Doyle, the socialite of the Guards, is weak and has other strengths!

When it comes to swordsmanship, fighting, marching and fighting, and reliability, he is not as good as Glover!

Why did he get put into danger and fight to the death with the enemy?

Isn't this what the protagonist should do?

The enemy's sword attacks were fierce, but D.D felt powerless. Not long after, he was hit by a sword in his left hand and had to stagger back.

How to do how to do?

what to do?

D.D had to resist while shaking his head desperately, trying to think of something about the current situation to avoid falling into an inexplicable distraction.

When will the backup of the prince and the terrifying blade come? Just the scary Morgan, or the pulling Nexi, or even that Arlend!

He can't bear it alone!

No, wait, does he really have backup? Does Mallos know he's here?

No, no, no, concentrate, don't think about anything else, just think about how to save your life. Can you jump out of the window? Find a better position to land? This shameless guy can't chase him all the way down the street in broad daylight until he reaches Kongming.

Palace!

Ah, no, the zombie is still in the corridor. What should I do if this big guy is gone? After all, it’s all the fault of this stupid big guy. Damn it, attack him from the front and back!

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

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

The old knight's words rang out again, but this time, he was particularly harsh.
To be continued...