Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 519 - 475 Bell Ringer

The wooden planks, battered by the blast, became more scattered, and the once teetering, ominous tower was reduced to a pile of debris. After Ralph composed himself, the unknown fear seemed laughable.

Verlet thrust her sword into a gap between the planks, testing it slightly, then extended the blade towards the next crevice that might harbor the bell ringer. The planks were in disarray, and any significant weight could cause a secondary collapse, like dominoes spilling across the floor.

However, this posed no great challenge for the nimble and flexible Verlet. Skilled in both swordplay and dance, this was the result of her dual role as sheriff and young lady. In these terrible swamp-like grounds, she moved with the grace of a feline, as if on flat terrain.

Ralph stood on the edge of the ruins, lifting his firearm, the muzzle moving slowly as it followed Verlet. It required utmost patience and strong willpower, using Verlet as bait to lure out the monster; Ralph could not allow himself any failure. His index finger had been resting near the trigger for close to a minute, the stiffness spreading numbness from his nerves to his brain. Yet, Ralph remained as focused as a corpse.

The moment a noise arose, a flash of brilliance appeared in the eyes of the fierce wolf.

"Verlet, two o’clock, jump!"

Just then, Verlet had retrieved her silver sword, having just tested a deep enough crevice in front of her left foot, in the most relaxed state after resolving the crisis. Before her brain could react, her muscle memory retained from training made the decision upon hearing Ralph’s voice—to heed the man’s direction and leap forcefully towards two o’clock.

The reaction force caused the planks to collapse, but a giant hand emerging from below quickly tossed them aside—a two-meter-long hand as thick as a bucket, its flesh black and purple, with a texture like a rotten plum eaten by worms. The coarse fingertips were rubbed raw, wooden splinters wedged in like fanged serpents sinking into the flesh, oozing pus with a stench of decay.

The giant hand instantly shattered the spot where Verlet had been standing. Changing from a slap to a grab, it reached for the sheriff in mid-leap.

Verlet spun in the air, a backflip causing the giant hand to miss, clutching only a few strands of red hair between its fingers. Her hat was snatched away, and the ends of her long hair, falling loose, were tainted an awful black by the pus upon touching the ground. Rolling to her feet, Verlet put some distance between herself and the hand.

The bell ringer revealed half his body amidst the debris of the ruin.

He was a malformed, twisted giant, probably around four meters tall, his upper body draped in a single piece of pitch-black linen. A pair of mismatched eyes were set in his lumpy flesh, and his head resembled a squashed walnut, with the grotesque wrinkles possibly concealing his lips—or perhaps he had none. Ralph found it difficult to discern.

There was no spark of intelligence in the mismatched eyes, and his actions confirmed a low intellect, yet his ability to express malevolence was remarkably strong. The bell ringer pulled one more massive hand from the rubble, smaller than the first and of a paler filth-stained color. The right hand was clenched into a fist and never unclenched.

The moment the bell ringer appeared, he began to emit a series of dull moans, bovine and deep, like the muffled roar of a human being. Blood gushed over his swollen body, and three large triangular wooden boards and countless wood splinters were embedded in his hunched back.

Ralph was not sure if those wooden pieces were decorations the bell ringer carried all along, but if not, he felt relieved.

The moment the monster emerged, it roared at Verlet, the Female Demon Hunter’s escape irritating it. Almost simultaneously, its teacup-sized eyeballs exploded as Ralph’s bullet hit its mark.

Bang!!!

Clutching its head, the bell ringer swayed on the spot, its threat significantly reduced by the loss of sight. Verlet stood ready with her sword, waiting for the bell ringer’s frantic struggles to subside before rushing in to elicit a new sound.

The bell ringer’s struggle ceased.

Darting and leaping across the wooden planks like a dragonfly skimming water, Verlet’s sword danced with a curious rhythm in her hand.

This time, she aimed for the bell ringer’s exposed neck.

Ralph had reloaded another bullet, and Dragonfire was primed for the next burst. The fierce wolf watched his prey intently, and certain anomalies revealed themselves under his watchful gaze.

The wood fragments embedded in the bell ringer’s flesh were growing. Growing was just an illusion to the eye—it was the healing flesh repairing the body, expelling the foreign wooden shards. The bell ringer’s body was self-healing, and the damage caused by the tower’s explosion was fully recovered within seconds.

Hyper-speed regeneration.

And that shattered eyeball, it was obviously within the scope of recovery as well.

"Watch out for evasion."

Ralph took aim once more; Verlet’s assault couldn’t be stopped, Ralph had to disrupt the bell ringer’s movements during the brief moment he launched his attack.

The sweeping giant hand, like a falling tree, struck at Verlet. If this attack hit her squarely, few of her bones would likely remain intact.

Fortunately, the roaring bullet grazed the gap between the bell ringer’s thumb and forefinger, tearing off some flesh, and once again burst the giant’s eyeball.

Another roar, another recovery. Verlet’s attack only scraped off some flesh from his shoulder, but she herself dodged the devastating blow.

It was ridiculous, Ralph thought; this eerie regenerative ability almost rendered the monster invincible.

Thoughts wove through Cassandra’s head like an alarm clock, Ralph’s thinking quick as the swiftly gathering clouds in Cassandra’s sky.

Silvette was right.

We had the potential to defeat these monsters.

Then this hyper-speed regenerative ability must have its limits, a condition that allowed for that possibility.

The bell ringer was pulling its lower body from the rubble. Even the dumbest of creatures would know after being blinded twice not to be a sitting duck, and that short-haired dwarf standing still would be more dangerous, needing to be crushed first.

The bell ringer propped himself up with his hands, extracting his lower half from the ruin; he ignored Verlet’s attacks, as the clawing assaults could be endured and overlooked as long as he took it. All he had to do was use his left hand to protect his head, blocking the vitals.

The bell ringer, eventually stood up.

Ralph, finally saw what he wanted to see.

The bell ringer’s right hand was always clenched into a fist, not due to a deformity, but in the center of his right fist, between the fingers, there was a faint glow.

The bell ringer held something in his hand, something he was gripping tightly.

"Verlet, chop off the fingers of his right hand!!!"

Without hesitation, under the cover of Ralph’s fierce gunfire, Verlet stepped onto the bell ringer’s knee, flipped backwards in a jump, and with the force of her descent, she chopped off the bell ringer’s thumb and forefinger. Like a venomous snake unsheathing its fangs, her sword flicked the little trinket out of the fist.

The gleam beneath the rust caught everyone’s eye.

It was a bell, a golden bell with a handle.