Chapter 352: The Real Team

At this critical moment, Pergrande’s Magic Staff swept in, intercepting the sword for his companion. To Sera’s surprise, although she had activated the Mind Gem again, her Fear Slash didn’t have a significant effect on her opponent. In the few short seconds she was blocked, the two of them had already stabilized their formation, leaving her no more openings.

"See? I told you they were holding back," Pergrande said, narrowing his eyes. He fixed his gaze on Sera, whose flow of time was clearly different from their own, carefully watching for any threats from her direction.

The Dwarf said nothing. A flame-like Light Power now coated his flail; he was clearly getting serious.

"Tch!" In the battle circle of the two Martial Monks, the Half-Elf’s cheek was grazed by the tip of Quest’s tail. He retreated to the pack beast’s side, placing a hand on his scabbard and spitting out a mouthful of bloody saliva.

"How about it, old pal? Satisfied now?" Quest clapped his hands, his tail swaying gently behind him. "Just give up. I need to go help them."

"I admit, my hand-to-hand skills are no match for yours," the Half-Elf said, looking at the Tiffling with a solemn expression. "But that’s because I’ve dedicated half my life to my sword. Do you dare compete with me in Swordsmanship?"

"I don’t know how to use that thing of yours," Quest said, calling over Ivendel, who had been watching from the side, to fetch his wooden staff. "But I have something even longer than yours."

"Longer is stronger, old pal. Are you really confident you can beat me with weapons?"

"If I can’t even trust my own weapon, how can I face myself and continue my training!" The Half-Elf tightened his grip on his hilt, waiting only for Quest to advance before drawing his blade for a thunderous strike. "This is my single strike. Do you dare come at me?"

In contrast to the Half-Elf’s exotic sword, which was longer than a typical short staff, the weapons on Aron’s side were far more plain. And this was the one front where Ron’s party had failed to gain an advantage.

"It’s clear your habits are better suited for wielding a shield, a tower shield from the army, I’d guess." The Chief Judge was in a three-way standoff with Aive and Andre. He and Aive moved cautiously, their steps careful, while Andre merely tried to crudely imitate their movements. "You’re empty-handed now. Your blocking motions are superfluous."

"I think you talk too much," Aive said, pausing slightly to let Andre, who had fallen out of rhythm, get back under her protection. "Are you this chatty when you’re facing demons?"

"This is just a spar," Aron replied, not seeming offended. He continued, "This man isn’t your usual adventuring companion, is he? He lacks the most basic coordination with you."

"On the battlefield, even a child can be trained to pick up a weapon and kill. But without team coordination, even high-ranking demons and Archbishops risk falling. Judging by your skills, the enemies you face are no common bandits. He obviously wouldn’t be able to survive that kind of battle."

"Are you two..."

"You can guess all you want. We won’t admit a thing," Aive said, the corners of her lips turning up. "I’m perfectly happy to keep running in circles with you. Their reinforcements will be here soon."

"’Running in circles,’" Aron scoffed. "Or rather, it’s part of your tactics."

"I’m looking for an opportunity. For example, now!"

Aron suddenly lunged at Aive. However, the instant their blades were about to meet, the Chief Judge changed his attack. Aive instinctively raised her right hand to block, but unexpectedly, his target wasn’t her at all—it was Andre, who was still trying to provide support from the side!

BANG! The sword blade struck Andre’s shield, erupting in a brilliant glow. "Holy Slash!"

The shield, made of ordinary materials, was split by the single blow. Yet, Aron’s sword didn’t continue its downward arc. Behind the shield, flesh and bone had caught the front half of his Longsword, stopping it from moving even an inch further!

"Hiss..." Andre’s face twisted in pain. He swung his short spear, which was also imbued with Light Power, and thrust it at Aron’s chest. "Holy Slash!"

CLACK! Just as the spear tip was about to touch Aron’s armor, he finally managed to pull his sword back, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow that was mere inches away.

After retiring from the battlefield, they naturally wouldn’t be wearing the same armor they used against demons. If that spear had landed squarely, it could have truly been fatal!

’Aron had never imagined that he, who had survived countless injuries in the Holy War, might one day fall at the hands of a greenhorn!’

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" the Chief Judge roared in a low voice, suppressing his fury. "Why didn’t you dodge?!"

’Of course he was pulling his punch as he broke the shield! How could he possibly deliver a fatal blow to a commoner who had somehow become a Paladin?!’

"Because I’m not afraid!" Andre staggered backward and fell, landing hard on his bottom. Blood stained more than half of his armor and tunic; the Chief Judge’s strike had nearly cost him his life.

"Insolent!" Aron’s family was also noble; he had never imagined he would be talked back to like this by a commoner. "What right do you have not to be afraid?!"

’Even demons would tremble in fear before his Holy Slash!’

"I’m not afraid because I’m not afraid!" Andre gasped, his expression twisting into something close to a savage grin. "Chief Judge, you look down on me, and it’s true I don’t have the skill. That’s why I have to give more to create an opportunity for Miss Aive!"

Aive didn’t respond, nor did she take the opportunity to attack as Andre had suggested. Instead, she knelt and took out a Potion and bandages, trying to treat Andre’s wound.

As an Adventurer, her friend Andre was, in her eyes, unquestionably competent at that moment. But Aron would not think so.

"Foolish! Utterly foolish!" The enraged Aron strode forward and kicked Aive over, sending the Healing Potion spilling across the ground. His face grim, he walked toward Andre, who was on the verge of unconsciousness and holding on by a thread. "Do you have any idea that, on a real battlefield, an act like yours could cause the front line to collapse and the entire battle to spiral out of control?! You think you blocked that sword because you’re not afraid of death? It’s because I wasn’t using my full strength!"

"A demon wouldn’t hold back, you idiot!"

"Even as a Paladin, someone like you would just be a burden! You’d be better off staying a farmer!" Aron took out his Holy Emblem, which was clearly marked with the symbol of Tyr. "No matter who led you astray down this path, today, in the name of the Tyr Paladins, I will strip you of this power! Come forward, I—"

Aron raised his Holy Emblem. But at that exact moment, a warning like the thunderous beat of war drums sounded in his heart. The Chief Judge leaped back quickly. The next second, a blast of Magic carrying Erosion Energy bombarded the spot where he had just been standing, blasting a large crater in front of Andre and Aive.

To a Paladin’s Perception, a powerful evil presence was like a toxic fragrance, while a powerful good was like a melodious, heavenly tune. At this moment, in Aron’s ears, in the ears of all four of them, no heavenly tune played. Instead, the sudden appearance of this evil was suffocating!

"Everyone, prepare for battle!" Aron’s expression changed. His companions immediately gathered around him and formed up. "Just as the Archbishop predicted. A powerful evil force is entrenched here!"

"Bullshit!" A cold shout rang out as a pale-skinned woman with white hair and red eyes appeared. She stood protectively in front of Aive and Andre, glaring at the members of the Molten Iron Barrier with pure malice. "I’m old enough to be your damn grandmother!"

"A Vampire Descendant... no, a Vampire?!" Raymond Aron looked uncertainly at the woman who had suddenly appeared, wondering about her identity. "Lord Ron, is this the enemy you’ve been fighting all this time?"

Although her current display of power didn’t seem particularly overwhelming, he had the distinct feeling that there was another power within this woman, one that made even him feel helpless!

Taking this opportunity, Aive and Victoria went around Silvia to treat Andre’s injuries, while Ivendel helped him away.

"Silvia?" Ron was taken aback for a moment. "Didn’t we agree that you wouldn’t..."

’Of course they could handle Andre’s situation. After all, he alone had at least three more cards to play!’

"How could I wait any longer!" Silvia said, placing her hands on her hips and frowning. "Didn’t you see that bastard injure Andre and kick Aive to the ground? Was I supposed to just stand by and watch? Benefactor, I’m not a spectator!"

"’Ben-Benefactor?’" The minds of Aron and his three companions nearly overloaded. They stared at Ron in bewilderment, countless thoughts flashing through their heads. ’What is going on?’

"Listen up, you lot," Silvia said, leaning on her Walking Stick with one hand, her chin slightly raised. "Standing before you is Countess Sylvia, a loyal ally and companion of Lord Ron! The one you were just questioning, Andre, is our Civilian Militia Captain, responsible only for maintaining public order and patrol duties!"

"You wanted to use us to probe the reality of the Delusional Land, didn’t you? Well, come on then. The team you’re about to face now is the real one—the one that faces the dangers of the entire Delusional Land!"

"Delaford, how long are you going to hide!"