Abra Sinai, the great priest of the future Grey God Cult, launched a ritual to invite the Grey God to come. At this time, he stared at a man and a woman in front of him - his "daughter", and a young knight who might be just.

While Cyril was trying his best to persuade Nerola, he was also staring at Abrah?

He knew that the Baron would never fall down because of Belinda's sudden heavy blow to him. On the contrary, Abra's body might not even be worse than before entering the room.

Maybe even better.

Abram's long staff was pouring out of the grey and viscous substances. Without the barrier of the bed, Cyril could clearly see the gray substances creeping up the baron's legs, wrapping the calves that had been injured by his sword, and slowly climbing up the abdomen, mixing with the intestines that all fell out, turning into a black red ball.

Abra did not even interfere with Cyril's lobbying, and stood there leisurely, until Cyril finished his last words, he spoke slowly:

"One last chance, Narura, my good daughter, come back to me."

"Stop dreaming, Mr. Baron, she is not your real daughter. Do you think she is imprisoned and raised like a cage bird. She will fly you to your head intimately to give you a soaked bird shit?"

Cyril said unconstrained vulgar words while pulling Nayora hard. This time she did not resist and stood beside Cyril.

"I'm very curious. Are you willing to watch your good daughter fall into my hands?" Cyril knocked the window behind him with elbow, and looked at the baron in front of him with a brutal look that had just been removed from his face, and he couldn't help but ask.

"Because I don't need to be in a hurry." The baron said slowly, suddenly shaking his body, and his whole body made a crackling sound, even his body was raised a little. "Do you think you can leave here alive?"

"I think I can give it a try."

Abra glanced at the relaxed expression on the boy's face and couldn't help but let out a free and easy laugh. When he was still a normal baron, he smiled like this with some unique charm of a vicissitudes of the uncle, but at this moment it sounded creepy.

"I remember I said just now that this is my territory. I think you know what is there in my territory."

"I know, of course I know. I just killed ten of them, which is easier than killing a werewolf."

Cyril's tone was extremely calm, and he even turned his head and helped Narula turn over the broken window so that her skirt would not be scratched by the broken glass.

After he finished all this, he watched Narula jumping on the eaves outside, then turned around, looked at Abraham's taller body, and said softly:

"I know, you're waiting for this stick to repair your body, and you're waiting for those ugly and disgusting Bandith to climb your roof - to be honest, I admire you very much if you make such a beautiful manor gloomy."

He looked at Abrah steadily and then gave a title:

"Fake a fake, Mr. Baron."

He keenly sensed that Abra's body trembled, and this sentence accurately hit the high priest of the future Grey God Cult. Abra hesitated for a moment and said slowly:

"You seem to know a lot, young knight, I'm very curious now where you know—"

"No, no, no, Mr. Baron, what you should be curious about is not how I understand you, but about myself." Cyril smiled and shook his head, interrupting Abra's words:

"For example, why don't I escape immediately when I see such a powerful person? How can I know the existence of the original heart of the world? Why can the crossbow arrows penetrate your gray repulsive force and shoot you-"

Every time Cyril said something, Abra's face became gloomy. When the boy deliberately elongated his tone, as if he wanted to try his best to mobilize his curiosity, he could no longer bear it, and pinched the long staff in his hand and made a crackling sound.

"Of course, the thing you should be curious about is what I am waiting for when I say so many things."

The half-elf boy suddenly blinked playfully, then turned sideways, picked up Evans beside him with one hand, threw it out the window without treating Narura's tenderness at all, and shouting loudly:

"Evans, take her away after you have enough sleep!"

Evans, who was thrown out of the window, rolled beautifully, and seemed to curse, but his movements were extremely fast. He carried Narula, who was still standing still, on his shoulders. Even though his legs and feet were not running smoothly due to the previous few impacts, he ran for a long distance in a flash, and jumped off the eaves and disappeared from Abra's sight.

Abra's face suddenly became even more gloomy than the dark clouds before the heavy rain. He no longer wanted to talk nonsense with this young knight. He grabbed the long staff in his hand and smashed it towards Cyril without any rules.

The howling wind seemed to be crying with resentful souls. Cyril's silver-gray eyes reflected a long staff. He watched it magnify rapidly in front of his eyes. When it was about to fall on his head, his slightly squatted body suddenly bounced to the side, and at the same time he waved his left arm and knocked towards the long staff!

"when!"

A metal collision sounded echoing in the room. Abra was surprised to find that the young man in front of him had a round shield in his hand and easily bounced his long staff away!

Block, perfect judgment, heroic spirit takes effect!

The double blessings of strength and agility made Cyril's speed increase sharply. His left arm simply swung out, and his shield swung the long staff heavily. Then he stepped in, and the long sword flashing silver light took the gap in Abra's chest!

Shield reverse!

The strength of the heroic spirit is fully reflected at this time. Cyril's beautiful movement like a textbook has brought him more speed and strength bonuses.

Abra had no time to react. Seeing that the shiny sword was about to penetrate his heart, his hand holding the staff tightened his hands, and then a faint gray repulsive force gushed out again, and then he barely lifted Cyril's sword and rubbed past him.

Cyril frowned slightly, scolding the other party for his shameless behavior of relying on equipment. He did not mess up because of this, kicked Abra hard away and then pulled back his sword.

This time, the enemy's shield rebellion only left a shallow wound on Abrah's side, and was quickly climbed up by the gray matter and repaired.

But Cyril looked at his opponent calmly this time, but he was not at all disappointed.

At least this time, I understand a little bit-
Chapter completed!