hotmtlnovel Chapter 28 The Dimensional Strike from the Southern Hero
Chapter 28 The Dimensional Strike from the Southern Hero
"Would a sword costing fifty copper coins kill three of the Seven Sages of the Collapsed Kingdom?"
Lynn couldn't help but laugh.
Indeed, true strength doesn't require external proof, just as Simmel didn't need that undrawn sword of the hero.
After passing through the bushes, the view opened up a bit more.
This is a cliff, with a lush forest below and the outline of a village visible in the distance.
"Oh, right."
Lynn suddenly remembered something.
Back in Golden Country, facing Solitaire who was always flying in the sky, and that old fox Duncan, I always felt like I had no way to use my strength.
The soldiers' short arms are a major disadvantage.
While throwing weapons can provide a manageable defense, their effectiveness is greatly reduced when facing an extremely cautious opponent who flies hundreds of meters in the air.
Why not take this opportunity to ask a max-level player?
"I have a question about combat that I'd like to ask."
"Please speak."
The Southern Hero took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away non-existent sweat from his forehead.
"What should you do if you encounter a demon or monster that flies through the air?"
Lynn gestured, "It's that kind of shameless person who refuses to come down and just throws magic spells at you from the sky."
The image of Duncan hovering high in the sky, casting a spell of slap on the ground, flashed through my mind.
And then there's Solitaire, that chatterbox, who keeps making sarcastic remarks as she flies.
If we don't solve the problem of anti-air capabilities, we will still be at a disadvantage when encountering this type of enemy in the future.
"Is it flying in the air?"
The Southern Warrior stopped wiping his sweat, folded the handkerchief, and tucked it back into his pocket.
Then he looked up at the azure sky above.
"This is indeed a troublesome matter."
The Warrior of the South stroked the stubble on his chin. "For warriors like us who can't fly, not being able to reach is the most troublesome thing."
"So what do you usually do?"
Lynn pressed for an answer.
"How do I do it?"
The Hero of the South suddenly turned to look at the void to his left, "As for me, I can just shoot it down."
Clang!
A clear, resonant sword cry suddenly rang out, and the Southern Warrior had already drawn a sword, then swung it and sheathed it.
The movement was so fast that even the afterimage was not visible, but it was actually just an ordinary upward slash.
Lynn looked in the direction he was swinging his sword.
Hundreds of meters away, a huge bipedal dragon was leisurely flying in the sky.
next second.
puff!
The dragon's body suddenly split open from the middle, and blood splattered like raindrops.
The two halves of the body lost lift and spun as they plummeted into the forest.
Only then did the belated sound of wind breaking reach their ears.
"Huh?"
Lynn looked at the fallen corpse, then at the calm-looking Southern Hero beside him.
"That's... all?"
"It's over."
The hero of the South straightened his bangs, which had been ruffled by the wind.
Lynn swallowed.
At a distance of several hundred meters, without the aid of magic, it was just a pure slash.
This is no longer within the scope of swordsmanship, is it?
"Is this... an extension of the slashing attack?"
Lynn asked tentatively.
"More or less."
The Southern Warrior resumed his steps, descending the mountain path. "Transmit the intent of your strike, let the air become an extension of the blade. If you believe you can hit it, you will."
That's easy for you to say.
This is like the saying "If you run fast enough, time can't catch up with you"—it sounds reasonable, but it's complete nonsense in practice.
"How long will it take to master this?"
Lynn followed.
The Hero of the South thought for a moment, "I've been training for ten years."
"..."
Lynn decided to change the subject.
The cultivation methods of this monster are of very little reference value.
"By the way, how did you spot that dragon just now? Did you use magic detection?"
Lynn asked.
Lynn was completely unaware of the dragon's presence until the Southern Hero drew his sword.
"I'm not good at magical detection."
The Southern Warrior said, "About ten minutes ago, I saw it passing by at that time, intending to attack the flock of sheep down the mountain."
"Predicting the future?"
"Um."
The Warrior of the South nodded. "Since we've seen them, let's just get rid of them. That sheep-raising family is already struggling; if they lose their sheep, this winter will be tough for them."
Lynn looked at the man's back and thought he was a powerful and charismatic warrior.
"We're almost at the village ahead."
The Southern Hero quickened his pace. "The cider made by the proprietress of that tavern is exceptional; it'll be sold out if you go too late."
The two walked down the hillside, one after the other.
The village is nestled in a valley and has only a few dozen households.
Upon entering the village, Lynn immediately stopped and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The village was unusually quiet.
Only a few crows landed on a tree in the village, tilting their heads and staring blankly at the road below.
"It seems we're a step too late."
The Southern Hero did not draw his sword, but the originally lighthearted rhythm became slightly heavier. "It seems we won't be able to drink the cider."
Lynn didn't reply and quickly walked deeper into the village.
What came into view was a scene of utter chaos.
Several carts overturned by the roadside, wooden barrels full of apples were smashed, and the fruit was trampled to pieces.
An old man's body lay face down by the well, a rough spear stuck in his back.
Not far away, a woman lay in a pool of blood, clutching a basket tightly to her chest.
Lynn was slightly uncomfortable.
This is the norm in this era: the demon army ravages the land, and humanity struggles to survive.
"Are there any survivors?"
Lynn spoke in a low voice, his gaze sweeping over the tightly closed doors and windows.
Future Vision activated, and a scene flashed through my mind a dozen seconds later—but no useful information appeared.
"have."
The Southern Hero pointed to the center of the village. "They're all hiding in the cellars. However, some uninvited guests are still around."
The two walked through streets littered with corpses.
Near the center of the village, two figures were still searching for something.
Those were two male demons.
The one on the left is tall, with a sickly grayish-blue complexion, and covered in blood.
The one on the right is slightly thinner and is holding a curved knife.
Upon hearing footsteps, the two demons simultaneously stopped what they were doing.
"Oh dear, there are actually humans who dare to come back?"
The thin demon's vertical pupils flashed with a cold light. "Are they lost adventurers? Perfect, those old guys were too tough, they'd get stuck in my teeth."
The tall demon grinned menacingly, "The older one is mine; his flesh looks quite firm."
Just as Lynn was about to draw his sword, a hand pressed down on his shoulder.
"Leave it to me."
The Southern Warrior walked past Lynn, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, without even touching the hilt of his sword.
"Huh? Are you out of your mind, human?"
The skinny demon let out a sneer, twirling his curved blade between his fingers. "You dare come empty-handed? Aren't you going to draw your sword?"
Clang!
A crisp sword rang out, so short it seemed like an illusion.
The figure of the Southern Hero seemed to blur for a moment, then immediately became clear again.
He remained standing in the same spot, his hands hanging at his sides, as if he had never moved.
The two demons froze almost simultaneously, then lowered their heads to look at the lines of blood that had appeared on their chests.
puff!
Two jets of blood gushed out simultaneously, then turned into black particles and dissipated.
Sold out instantly!
Lynn didn't even see the process of drawing his sword.
Although he already knew the strength of this strongest human hero, witnessing such an overwhelming battle still made his scalp tingle.
This is the terrifying aspect of having foresight combined with unparalleled swordsmanship.
The opponent was already dead before he even made a move.
"it's over."
The hero from the south walked to a dry well at the edge of the village and shouted at the well opening, "Come out, it's safe outside."