Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 395 - 81: Holy

Boom——

The fort cannon at the top of the tower roared once more.

The entire Wolf Castle trembled, and the white mist formed when the White Crystal was drained instantly enveloped the tower.

The tall Wolf Race member clad in a black woolen coat, upon leaping onto the city wall, burst through his coat with a bang, transforming into a massive and muscular gray Werewolf. He agilely dodged a crossbow arrow shot by the Texas Wolf Race and swept them off the city wall with a slap.

At that moment, the gloomy clouds scattered in the sky, and the bright moonlight illuminated the city wall, making the black fur on his body distinctly visible.

This was an incredibly robust Werewolf, with bulging muscles and a height of over three meters.

"A big catch."

Jeanne’s voice came through clearly.

"As expected of the rebel race, not only mingling with a bunch of lowly-blooded wanderers, but also associating with people from the Holy Church."

"Where is the old fool Juliano? Make him kneel before me immediately, and I will speak good of your Basilicata Family to the Wolf Lord. A thousand-year-old ancient bloodline shouldn’t be severed like this."

The Werewolf spoke human words, with a calm presence.

Losa reached out and brushed over the Shining Cross Sword, instantly igniting a string of flames, turning the blade red hot and exuding a scorching glow. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

This Werewolf posed a strong sense of threat to him, making him feel that even if he put in his best effort, he might still be instantly killed by him.

The Bloodfall made his heart beat faster and faster, and he was desperately squeezing his bloodline power, so much so that Losa hadn’t even begun Half-Dragon Transformation, yet Dragon Scales started to grow from his heart area.

The Werewolf sniffed and sneered, "Not only people from the Holy Church, but also Dragon Descendants. I thought beings like you had long vanished with time... But alas, just a little guy who hasn’t matured yet."

The Werewolf kicked off the ground, disappearing suddenly.

His speed had clearly surpassed the limits of what Losa’s vision and Spiritual Power could capture, comparable even to Chelina before she reached full level in her prime.

But Chelina’s speed was exchanged for sacrificing her other attributes.

This Werewolf in front of him has undeniable Power and Physical Strength.

Losa didn’t exchange a glance with Jeanne, his eyes sparkled with a golden glow, Dragon Might mixed with the Dark Lord’s pressure, forming a sleek black Demon Dragon behind him.

The terrifying pressure belonging to the Dark Lord caused the Werewolf’s smooth movement to freeze momentarily—though it was only for an instant, in battles at this Level, an instant was enough to decide victory.

The spear tip of the Holy Spear pierced through its chest.

The Werewolf’s proud and formidable Defense was as fragile as paper in front of the Holy Spear, a Divine Artifact specifically crafted to counter dark creatures.

"Gungnir?"

The Werewolf’s face showed a trace of disbelief, and at this point, even if Jeanne was wearing just a mask, or wrapped herself like a Mummy, he absolutely couldn’t fail to identify her identity.

"Knight of Radiance!"

The Werewolf let out a roar filled with anger and fear, and fled.

At his wound, the remaining Holy Radiance transformed into the Holy Flame, continuously consuming his body, but at this moment, he couldn’t care about anything else. A person’s name is like a shadow cast by a tree; the terrifying reputation of the Knight of Radiance among dark creatures showed its effect, even more than the actual "Dark Lord" pressure Losa possessed.

If turning into Skills or Talent, likelihood is: when facing dark creatures from Yesterday’s Giant Ship World, once their name is revealed, most dark creatures would immediately flee.

This Werewolf didn’t realize that Jeanne’s strength was clearly not at its peak.

"Holy!"

Jeanne clasped her hands together, and the Holy Spear hovered above her head.

This was Gungnir, the Spear of Certain Hit!

The fleeing Werewolf only felt a fierce pain in his back, a doomsday-like danger, thinking of the legendary Holy Spear, how could he not realize that he couldn’t escape now?

In the air, specks of golden light continuously gathered toward the Holy Spear in Jeanne’s hand. This Spear of Certain Hit actually also had a downside; although it certainly hits, it could only kill one person each time.

If the enemy were smart, they could find a shield to exempt this damage.

But now it’s different.

Because the Holy Spear was stained with Werewolf’s blood, guided by the remaining Holy Flame within them, this strike almost couldn’t possibly miss—it’s certain to hit!

The dazzling golden light instantly pierced through the sky, igniting a brilliant golden glow in the darkness.

The Werewolf’s screams became increasingly dire under the burning of the Holy Flame, until he was reduced to ashes by the blazing Holy Radiance.

With this strike, Jeanne’s identity could no longer be disguised, but plotting an assassination against the Ripper was already a low-probability task; taking down such a big catch wasn’t a loss.

"How are you?"

Losa inquired.

Jeanne calculated and said, "I’m alright, about thirty percent of my Power is gone, I need a good rest, the next strong enemy comes, you’ll have to stand in front."

"Alright, leave it to me."

With all his methods at hand, Losa’s strength would surpass a Centurion, especially with the double blessing of Volcanic Divinity, his Dragon Flame—even if he can’t take down a Wolf Race of such intensity that just occurred, he could hold his ground for a while.

This wide-scale Destructive Magic in a fortress defense would definitely be a trump card.

...

"Which family are you from?"

The Werewolf opposite looked at Hans with a puzzled expression.

The Wolf Race was very sensitive to bloodlines; whether they were lowly or a member of a high-ranking wolf family was almost instantly discernible. In his eyes, Hans was evidently a pure-blood Werewolf, yet he didn’t belong to any known prominent family.

Hans didn’t reply; he also didn’t know which family he belonged to. The wolf bloodline inherited from the Wolf Blood Potion’s family should have long been extinct.

Moreover, this bloodline, to be honest, wasn’t considered noble within the Wolf Race, at the very least, definitely couldn’t compare to Chelina’s.

"Forget it."

"Regardless of which family, whoever dares defy the Wolf Lord’s will should go to Hell."

The Werewolf’s fingertips extended sharp claws, suddenly lunging at Hans.

Hans’s body twisted, expanded, transforming into a silver-gray Werewolf in the blink of an eye, engaging in battle with the black Werewolf from the Yakxi Family.

This was indeed a straightforward Werewolf internal conflict.

Unlike the Medieval world’s werewolves who fought like beasts without any tactics, the Yakxi Wolf Race, even in Werewolf form, displayed various tactics.

He executed an over-the-shoulder slam, throwing Hans fiercely aside. While curling his lips into a sneer, he collided again into Hans, who had just climbed to his feet, with a torrential rain-like assault, leaving Hans only able to defend, with no room for counterattack.

A blade of coagulated blood abruptly appeared behind the Werewolf’s neck.

The Werewolf didn’t even glance back, delivering an elbow strike to repel Kurs, leaving a corrosive Magic Power scar on his own neck.

The Werewolf touched the wound on his neck, a grim smile creeping onto his face, "Interesting."

Behind him, an energetic wind struck again.

A blue-gray Werewolf leaped up, knocking the Yakxi Werewolf away.

He straightened his posture, his expression stern, "Be careful, this is Senon from the Yakxi Family, quite a formidable Centurion, rumored to have slaughtered an entire human settlement. Let’s team up to take him down."