Hello, is this a letter addressed to Demon Fortress?

The woman was as thin as a bamboo pole, wrapped in a tattered gray robe.

The robe was unusually large, completely covering her from head to toe.

Even the eyes, nose, and face weren't shown.

A human figure could only be barely discerned from the outline of the robe.

Very strange.

The hunters instantly stood up, drew their weapons, and quickly spread out to form an encirclement.

The scarred assassin's eyes were sharp, and his perception was like an invisible net, enveloping the woman.

one second.

two seconds.

He frowned.

There are no energy fluctuations.

There was no flow of magic, no trace of energy.

Just like a... completely ordinary person.

But how can an ordinary person appear here so quietly?

How could he carry a blood bag full of elf heads?

In mid-air, Lin Gui looked at Eve.

Eve frowned, her purple eyes fixed on the woman below.

In addition to healing, priests often supplement their magic with perception-based spells.

The saintess was highly accomplished in this area.

Even surpassing Shea and Lin Gui.

At this moment, Eve's senses were like the finest comb, sweeping over the woman again and again.

Finally, she slowly shook her head, her voice filled with confusion:

"I can't sense any energy emanating from it..."

"She's just like... an ordinary person."

She didn't even believe it when she said it.

Eve's gaze fell on the blood bag the woman was carrying.

The bag was open, and several elf heads were clearly visible inside.

The cut was frighteningly clean.

There wasn't a single rough edge; it was as if the cut was made in an instant with the sharpest blade.

The expression on the head's face froze at the last moment.

terror, despair, dilated pupils.

Eve carefully examined the edges of the wound.

The fractures in the muscles and bones were so smooth they were almost eerily smooth.

There was no tearing caused by struggling, and no trace of secondary cutting.

"This wound..."

"Or rather... a kind of ultimate cutting technique."

"This is definitely not something an ordinary person could do."

As Lin Gui listened, his brows furrowed even more deeply.

An extremely ominous premonition surged into my heart without warning.

below.

The scarred assassin stared at the familiar faces in the blood bag.

When they saw that elf "traitor".

His pupils suddenly contracted.

The opponent possessed extraordinary strength, yet his head was so easily taken off.

Scarface asked.

"Who are you?"

The woman in the gray robe stirred slightly.

From beneath that robe came a hoarse, dry voice, yet one brimming with arrogance:

"who I am?"

She chuckled softly twice.

"You dare ask?"

"My name is not something you little brats can mention."

The woman's arrogance instantly enraged all the hunters present.

The tip of the knife gleamed coldly in the firelight.

Several hot-tempered hunters suddenly stepped forward, their energy and magic surging, ready to make their move.

"Don't move!"

Scarface shouted to stop him.

He stared intently at the strange woman before him, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.

Years of living on the edge of death ignited a scream in their primal instincts.

Danger.

Extremely dangerous.

He suppressed the chill in his heart and forced a smile:

"What brings this friend here so suddenly?"

"We can talk."

The woman in the gray robe tilted her head, and a low, husky laugh came from beneath her robe:

"For what reason?"

"I just had an itch to kill a few people... to practice my knife skills."

The scar made my scalp tingle.

His gaze swept quickly over the blood bag in the woman's hand, then looked at the numb night elves in the cages behind him.

A guess suddenly popped into my head.

"If...it's because of these elven slaves..."

Scarface gritted his teeth and spoke faster.

"I'll release them right now."

"I swear, I will never touch the elf business again."

"We will bear all the losses ourselves."

"How about we become friends?"

"Boss!"

A young hunter couldn't help but shout:

"How many gold coins did we spend on this shipment?!"

"Just buying these few old men cost almost four million!"

"There's also the money for bribing insiders and route fees."

"Shut up!"

Scarface suddenly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot.

"Say one more word, and I'll kill you first!"

The young hunter turned pale and dared not utter another word.

Scarface turned back and looked nervously at the woman in the gray robe.

The woman remained silent for a moment.

She slowly turned her head and looked at the three iron cages covered with black cloth.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the black cloth, landing on the numb, desperate night elves.

Then, she chuckled softly.

The laughter was completely undisguised.

Satire.

"Release them?"

"Is this all... these weak, incompetent cowards who don't even dare to resist?"

Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping.

"Betrayed by his own kind, captured by humans, he didn't even have the courage to commit suicide."

"They'll just cower in their cages, trembling, waiting to die."

"This kind of garbage..."

She paused, the chill in her voice almost tangible.

"Does he even deserve to make me make a special trip?"

Inside the cage, the bodies of several elves trembled almost imperceptibly.

A faint glimmer of light finally emerged from the empty eyes.

That was humiliation.

It was also a time of despair and helplessness.

The woman looked at them and gave a cold smile.

"I'm quite grateful to you all."

The sarcasm in her voice was almost palpable.

"Help me get rid of these weak, incompetent cowards in my tribe..."

"Sifting them out one by one."

"As a token of my gratitude—"

She paused, and the aura beneath her robe suddenly changed.

"I will let you... pass away without pain."

Before he could finish speaking...

A terrifying killing intent, like a tangible ice spike, exploded instantly!

The air seemed to freeze.

The flames of the campfire were pressed almost to the ground.

The hunters turned pale and even stopped breathing for a moment.

"Bloodbath!"

Scarface roared angrily.

From the shadows, a figure that almost blended into the darkness suddenly sprang up!

The speed was too fast, creating a piercing sonic boom.

The dagger transformed into a ghostly green venomous light, piercing straight into the woman's back!

Timing, angle, and speed are all at the level of a top assassin.

The force concentrated on the tip of the blade even tore through the air.

however.

The woman simply turned slightly to the side.

The amplitude was so small that it was almost invisible.

She raised her right hand and clasped her fingers together like threading a flower.

He precisely gripped Blood Butcher's wrist as he held the knife.

"Click."

The sound of bone cracking was crisp and clear.

Blood Butcher's pupils shrank suddenly. He tried to break free, but found that all the strength in his body seemed to have been drained away.

The woman pressed down with her left hand, and something instantly pierced his chest.

Blood Butcher's body stiffened.

The light in his eyes quickly faded.

"Thump."

He collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

The whole process took less than two seconds.

The woman released her grip and pulled the poisoned dagger from Blood Butcher's stiff fingers.

Just throw it away.

Then, she opened her left hand.

In the palm of my hand lay a thin, ordinary-looking...

A bloodstained wooden stick.

"An extraordinary assassin?"

She looked down at Blood Butcher's corpse, her voice filled with disappointment.

"His breathing was so heavy when he was stealthy, it sounded like a bellows."

"His murderous aura was palpable as he charged forward, as if he wanted everyone to know he was coming."

"A poisoned dagger? The tactics of the weak."

She raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the pale-faced hunters.

"Let me show you..."

What is true "assassination"?

The moment the words fell.

The murderous intent that filled the air vanished abruptly.

Along with her figure, she vanished into thin air.

Back to back!!

Scarface screamed, his voice trembling slightly.

"Master! Find her location!"

The mage suddenly raised his staff, activating all his senses.

The magic spread like a tide.

No.

There isn't anywhere.

There were no energy fluctuations, no temperature changes, and even the airflow was normal.

It was as if that woman... never existed.

"Above, above?!"

A hunter looked up sharply, but there was nothing there.

"Left...left side?!"

The other hunter turned to the left; outside the window, only snow was falling.

Fear, like a cold vine, coils around everyone's heart.

"puff."

A soft sound.

The young hunter standing on the outermost edge froze.

He lowered his head.

He saw a wooden stick slowly being pulled out of his chest.

There was no blood.

Only the coldness of cardiac arrest.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

But he fell forward directly.

He died.

"The first one."

A woman's voice drifted from somewhere.

It's light and airy, like counting.

"The second one."

"Snap."

The other hunter had a dent in the back of his neck.

His eyes widened, and he fell straight down.

The sudden death of their compatriots instantly shattered the hunters' reason.

Blades and magic attacked indiscriminately in all directions.

However, this blocked the woman's voice, which sounded like a judge's pronouncement.

"The third one."

A wooden stick pierced a soldier's temple.

It was so fast that there wasn't even time for a scream.

One by one.

The hunters fell silently, like harvested wheat.

Every time it appears, every time it disappears.

There were no signs whatsoever.

There is no trace.

The mage frantically waved his staff, creating layer upon layer of shields.

The pastor chanted with all his might, and a healing aura enveloped the entire hall.

Useless.

The stick always appears from the most unexpected angle.

Pass through the gaps in the shield and around the edge of the aura.

Apply pressure to a specific, delicate acupoint that is potentially fatal.

then.

Life is extinguished.

"The 8th one."

The woman's voice remained calm.

It even carried a hint of... boredom.

Scarface leaned against his last companion, his body drenched in cold sweat.

His hand holding the dagger was trembling.

His breathing was completely disordered.

As an assassin, he was skilled in stealth, surprise attacks, and delivering a fatal blow.

But this woman in front of me...

She wasn't assassinating.

It is teaching.

Tell him in the cruelest way possible.

How ridiculous is everything you're so proud of.

His skills were insignificant in her eyes.

"The 9th one."

The last companion's body went limp and he slipped and fell to the ground.

His eyes were wide open, and he died with his eyes wide open, unable to close them in peace.

Now, only Scar is left.

Corpses were scattered all around.

Strangely, no blood seeped out.

The assassination attempt bypassed the complex and extensive circulatory system of the human body, directly targeting the vital organs.

Scarface leaned against the cold stone wall, a dagger held horizontally in front of his chest.

The pupils shrank to pinpoints.

Every muscle in my body was taut to its limit.

then.

He saw it.

The woman was standing three steps away from him.

It appeared at some unknown time.

The gray robe was still tightly wrapped around him.

The wooden stick in his hand was spotless, not a drop of blood on it.

"Look."

She spoke softly, as if making a comment.

"Fear can stiffen your muscles."

"Irregular breathing can give away your location."

"A shifty look in your eyes means you're looking for a way out."

She paused, then casually pointed the stick at his hand holding the dagger.

"He can't even hold a weapon properly..."

"Does he even deserve to be called an assassin?"

Scarface opened his mouth.

I want to roar, I want to fight back, I want to fight to the death.

But my throat felt like it was filled with ice crystals.

He couldn't utter a single word.

Only the chattering of teeth could be heard.

It was exceptionally clear in the deathly stillness of the snowy night.

Scarface was filled with fear, and his body was trembling like a sieve.

But those eyes were fixed intently on the woman's every subtle movement.

Thirty seconds.

In just thirty seconds, all of his men were wiped out.

This woman's assassination skills were terrifyingly suffocating.

Even more than any legendary assassin he had ever seen.

but.

He secretly observed a crucial piece of information.

That is, the level of power the opponent displayed...

It will never surpass the legendary.

There was no protective aura, no oppressive domain.

As long as it's not a legend.

He will then have a chance.

Scar deliberately amplifies his fear, expressing it through his body language.

He even knelt down with a "plop," tears streaming down his face.

"Spare me... I'll give you anything..."

The woman indeed let out a soft scoff.

That arrogant, toy-like attitude filled Scarface with ecstatic joy.

He shuffled forward half a step on his knees, burying his head even lower.

But inside, a frantic scream was raging:

Closer...

Just a little closer!

The woman was exactly as he had hoped.

She stepped forward, and a mocking whisper came from beneath her grey robe:

"Waste is useless..."

It's now!

Scarface suddenly sprang up from his kneeling position!

All the energy in his body instantly gathered at the tip of the dagger!

A chilling, eerie green light tore through the air.

"Pfft!"

The dagger pierced the "chest" beneath the gray robe without any resistance.

A ferocious, ecstatic look erupted from Scarface's face.

"We succeeded!!"

He laughed loudly and twisted the dagger viciously.

"You were careless! You bitch."

The laughter stopped abruptly.

Because he heard it...

A woman's soft laugh.

It wasn't a scream, it wasn't a muffled groan.

It's that kind of... light, amused chuckle, as if watching an insect struggle.

The smile on Scarface's face froze instantly.

It felt like falling into an ice cellar.

"A decent strike."

The woman commented calmly.

"The timing, angle, and explosiveness were all top-notch."

"pity."

She raised her hand and grasped the edge of the gray robe.

With a gentle tug.

The robe slipped to the ground.

It revealed the area below...

An empty body.

The dagger was still stuck in his chest.

It's like piercing the air, with no point of contact.

The scarred man's pupils shrank to pinpoints.

Soul, spirit?!

"you……"

He made a strange hoarse sound in his throat.

The woman looked down at the dagger stuck in the soul's body.

Reach out and gently "pull" it out.

The movement was as casual as plucking a leaf.

"Good camouflage, good design."

The sarcasm in her voice was so thick it was almost palpable.

"Unfortunately, I am no longer an ordinary person."

She raised her hand, the wooden stick in her hand gleaming with a blinding cold light.

Scarface tried to hide.

But my body felt like it was nailed to the spot.

He could only watch helplessly.

The same methods the other side used to kill his companions have been applied to him.

There was no pain.

There was no impact.

There was only one kind of darkness, followed by a long period of darkness.

At the last moment, he heard the woman whisper:

"The 10th one."

"There are two more."

Scarface swayed.

Then it fell straight backward.

His eyes were still open.

It contained an extreme sense of shock and bewilderment.

The woman didn't even glance at the corpse on the ground.

She turned around and looked up at the sky.

The robe has been removed.

At this moment, she is merely an unobservable soul.

She raised her hand, pointing it towards Lin Gui and Eve.

He gently hooked his finger.

"Have you seen enough?"

"It's your turn."

Lin Gui's Netherworld Eyes silently watched the woman below.

Or.

That spirit is so clever.

She possessed an elven-like, unparalleled beauty.

His features were exquisitely sculpted, and his skin had a faint purple glow.

Her hair was like a waterfall, and even in her soul form, it still appeared thick.

She has a tall and slender figure with perfect proportions.

Even in its soul form, one can still discern its former graceful and agile physique.

But what is most impossible to ignore is...

It was her eyes.

Those eyes were coldly fixed on the direction where Lin Gui was.

There was no emotion in his gaze.

There was no anger, no murderous intent, not even curiosity.

There is only one kind of condescending, almost indifferent...

Examine.

It was as if they were looking at two insignificant items.

or……

Two insects that narrowly escaped death.