Chapter 272: Ripple Dash!
A faintly glowing talisman was suddenly tossed by Lorne from the rooftop, accurately striking the patch of ground that appeared empty.
The moment the talisman touched the ground, a burst of pure golden light erupted there.
The golden light rapidly contracted inward, outlining a phantom figure clad in a black tailcoat and an ominous dark red cloak.
At the same time, another seemingly ordinary glass bottle arced through the air, flying toward the direction of the grinning Werewolf, Tyle.
Tyle sensed a hint of danger and subconsciously raised his sharp claws, which bore jet-black, dagger-like nails, intending to smash the inconspicuous projectile.
"Smash!"
The glass bottle shattered in mid-air, and some pure white liquid, shimmering with the aura of the Sun, dripped down.
"Ah—!"
The Werewolf let out a scream of extreme agony. The moment the liquid touched his skin, it instantly emitted a grating "sizzle," and wisps of white smoke frantically rose from his body, giving off a nauseating smell of burning.
That's right, the bottle contained the holy water Lorne had prepared in advance! To a Werewolf, this holy water was no less corrosive than sulfuric acid!
Lorne wasted no time. Just as he threw the talisman and the holy water, he leaped from the rooftop with all his strength and at maximum speed!
"Mental Storm!"
Tyle, who had been roaring furiously due to the holy water's burning, suddenly had his pupils contract. He froze instantly, as if a pause button had been pressed on him.
What a chance!
Lorne injected his spirituality into a playing card, and a silver single-handed sword, inscribed with complex runes on its blade, instantly appeared in his hand.
This was a Mystical Item he had purchased at a gathering hosted by the old gentleman of the Eye of Wisdom when he first returned to Backlund. It possessed unparalleled sharpness, purification, and exorcism effects.
Taking advantage of the Werewolf Tyle's momentary daze, Lorne held the sword with both hands, leaped high, and fiercely swung it toward the opponent's head!
However, just then, a bone-chilling frost mist suddenly assaulted him from the side! The surrounding dirt instantly became covered in a thick layer of white frost.
Lorne's body slightly stiffened due to the sudden cold, and his posture shifted. The sword strike, which should have severed the opponent's neck, was consequently deflected, grazing the opponent's cheek and missing its mark.
"Damn it!" Lorne cursed inwardly.
He knew this was the ability of the Prisoner Pathway to create frost.
Having missed the strike, he quickly adjusted his stance, used the momentum of his landing, spun around, and fiercely kicked Tyle's wrist!
"Clang!" With a crisp sound, the crimson moon diadem, which was emitting an ominous red glow, was kicked away by his foot!
Then, using the centrifugal force of his body's rotation, he raised the runic steel sword in his hand again and violently thrust it toward the Werewolf's chest!
But this time, Tyle, having endured intense pain, had recovered some of his senses from the effects of the Mental Storm. The moment the blade pierced his skin and barely entered his body, he let out a painful roar, violently twisted his body, and forcibly dodged the fatal blow.
Immediately following, countless coarse, black bristles frantically emerged from all over his body. His figure began to swell, his muscles bulged, and he completely transformed into a hideous and terrifying Werewolf!
Seeing the situation turn sour, Lorne immediately retreated. He was not confident he could gain an advantage by going head-to-head with a Werewolf at close range.
Just then, a chilling wind of unknown origin suddenly blew against the back of Lorne's neck, causing the hairs on his entire body to stand on end, making him uncontrollably shiver.
The runic steel sword in his hand suddenly flashed with a soft glow—a faint golden-yellow halo instantly enveloped Lorne's side. This was the passive purification ability inherent to the runic steel sword.
"I couldn't finish him off with the first strike!" Lorne cursed inwardly, finding the situation tricky.
The surprise attack just now had indeed wounded Tyle, but it hadn't inflicted a fatal injury. Such a perfect opportunity might only come once.
"I—I'm—going—to—eat—you!"
Tyle's eyes were now stained with a deep crimson. Clearly, the previous attacks had completely stripped him of his reason; now, he only craved blood!
Looking at the Werewolf before him, who was nearly uncontrollable due to fury, Lorne quickly pulled out "Phantom" from his pocket.
Before he could pull the trigger—
"Die!"
A sharp, furious, and venomous shriek suddenly exploded in everyone's minds.
Bang!
As the sound reverberated, Lorne felt as if he had been struck heavily on the head. His vision instantly blurred, his breath filled with a heavy smell of blood, and everything before his eyes was stained crimson.
Even Marich, who was preparing to help Sharon nearby, painfully dropped to one knee under the shriek, clearly having suffered a severe blow as well.
The Wraith Steve, wearing a black tailcoat and holding the crimson moon diadem, finally revealed his figure. A pale black, greenish smoke was still rising from his body.
"This is trouble—"
According to Lorne's original plan, while the Wraith Steve was distracted by the surprise attack, he would take the opportunity to eliminate the weakest opponent, the Werewolf Tyle, and seize the crimson moon diadem.
Afterward, he would team up with Marich to form a two-on-one situation. As long as they could stall the Wraith until Sharon dealt with the Zombie Jason, they would have victory secured.
But now, Tyle wasn't dead, and he himself was completely exposed. Everything had slid toward the worst possible outcome.
For a moment, the few people on the field entered a brief standoff. Lorne looked at the two enemies before him—both the Werewolf Tyle and the Wraith Steve—who were staring at him with vicious and hateful gazes. They were just waiting for a signal before they would pounce without hesitation and tear him to shreds.
"I—I surrender."
Just as the tension reached its peak, Lorne suddenly spoke, uttering words that no one had expected.
"I'm just a Hunter who works for money. I don't want to throw away my life for them."
Following that, under Marich's look of utter astonishment.
With a "clatter."
Lorne dropped the runic steel sword from his right hand, and his left hand also loosened its grip, letting the "Phantom" revolver fall onto the muddy ground.
"Idiot! They won't spare you even if you do that!" Marich, enduring the corrosion of the curse, yelled with all his strength. He hadn't expected Lorne to be so naive! The people of the Indulgence Faction didn't have any code about not killing Prisoners. Dropping his weapon now was undoubtedly suicide!
Even Sharon, who was wrestling with the Zombie Jason nearby, couldn't help but look toward Lorne. Her usually placid, azure blue eyes were filled with disbelief.
Lorne, however, acted as if he hadn't heard Marich at all, merely standing rooted to the spot without making any move.
The Wraith Steve, floating in mid-air, didn't act immediately either, but watched Lorne with extreme vigilance.
But the Werewolf Tyle, who had been struck twice by Lorne, could no longer restrain himself. Seeing Lorne drop his weapons, a flicker of thirst and mockery flashed in his blood-red eyes, and he roared as he lunged fiercely toward him!
Ridiculous—how could we possibly let you go! I'll tear off your neck first, and then rip your body to shreds!
Just as he sliced through the air, leaping up and pouncing viciously toward Lorne.
Lorne's lips, however, suddenly curled upward, revealing a mischievous, triumphant smile.
A strangely shaped, jet-black rifle instantly appeared in his hand!
"Click!"
That was the sound of a bullet being chambered.
You can't dodge in mid-air!
In the instant the Werewolf Tyle was descending, Lorne's dark muzzle was already aimed at his massive, bristly head.
"Take this move!
Thompson—Ripple Dash!"