Curse Returns: Eight Extraordinary Skills? I lack nothing.

Screams echoed through the forest, and the servant's bone knife, stained with blood, gleamed a dark red in the twilight.

Hawke turned to save him, but a servant riding a skeletal horse crashed into him from the side. The horse's horn pierced his left shoulder, cracking his black armor and causing blood to seep from the crack.

Hawk gritted his teeth, grabbed the bone horse's horn with his left hand, and plunged his short sword into the servant's chest with his right. The servant let out a sharp screech, turned into black smoke and dissipated, and the bone horse also crumbled.

Hawke clutched his left shoulder and took a few steps back, blood seeping from between his fingers and staining his tactical vest red.

The "Iron Wall" defense had been breached. A large section of the armor on the left shoulder was shattered, and the flesh beneath was torn open, revealing the white bone beneath.

"Hawk!" Nanami's voice came from the side, "Back off, I'll cover you!"

Nanami's black flash exploded among the attendants, blasting two of them away simultaneously. His breathing became rapid, a large patch of his trench coat was charred, but his sword remained steady.

His ten-stroke spell doesn't require much spell power; as long as it hits a weakness, it can cause considerable damage.

But hitting a weakness requires accurate judgment, and accurate judgment requires a calm mind. Nanami was still very calm at this moment.

Kusakabe attacked from another direction, the golden halo of the Simple Domain flickering uncertainly in the darkness.

His knife was swift, each cut precisely striking the servant's weakest point.

It's not the bone-severing armor, but the gap connecting the bone armor, the core of the spirit beneath the cloak.

He beheaded three servants, then added three more blows to ensure that each one was completely destroyed.

"Nanami, how many do you have left?" Kusakabe asked.

Nanami did not answer.

He was counting, but he couldn't finish. There were more servants than he had expected, and the number was still increasing. Deeper into the forest, more pale light was appearing.

Deep in the forest, on a clearing surrounded by dead trees and skeletons, three tall figures stood silently.

The False Crown Marquis.

The highest-ranking familiars under the Pale Knight are transformed from the corpses of top-tier sorcerers or top-tier cursed spirits.

Three false crowned marquises stood in a row, clad in pure white gilded armor, their heads miniature versions of the Pale Knight Mask, wielding large bone weapons.

Greatsword, warhammer, halberd.

Their armor was thicker and more complex than the bone armor of the Skeleton Guards, and silvery-gray mist flowed between the gaps in the armor, like some kind of living metal.

The first false crowned marquis wields a giant sword.

Standing nearly three meters tall, his armor was as thick and heavy as a mountain, and the ground trembled slightly with every step he took.

He was the most silent of the three, and hadn't uttered a single word since he appeared. He simply stood there quietly, like a statue.

His greatsword was stuck in the ground, the blade half a foot deep into the soil, and a pale white cloth strip was wrapped around the hilt.

The second false crowned marquis wields a warhammer.

The warhammer's head was larger than an adult's head, its surface covered with pale runes, and each strike was enough to create a crater several meters deep in the ground.

He grinned, his expression hidden beneath the pale mask, but his voice held excitement. He twirled the warhammer in his hand, sending a gust of bloody wind through the air.

The third false crowned marquis holds a long halberd.

The halberd blade was long and sharp, gleaming coldly in the twilight.

He was taller and more agile than the other two, and stood at the front of the three, like their leader.

He held his halberd horizontally in front of him, the blade pointing towards the edge of the forest.

"Humans have arrived." The pseudo-crowned marquis, holding a halberd, spoke calmly, as if stating a trivial fact.

“A lot have come.” The voice of the pseudo-crowned marquis, holding a giant sword, was deep and hoarse, squeezed out from the depths of his throat, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

"Just kill them." The pseudo-crowned marquis, wielding a warhammer, grinned. The warhammer spun in his hand, sending up a gust of bloody wind.

The three fake-crowned marquises did not move; they simply stood there quietly, waiting.

Across from them, at the edge of the forest, two people emerged from the shadows.

Yuuto and Kujukyuu Yuki.

The False Crowned Marquis, wielding a long halberd, held it horizontally in front of him, the blade aimed at the Ninety-Nine Yogis.

"That woman is mine."

The other two pseudo-crown lords, wielding greatswords and warhammers, remained silent, but simply took a step toward Youren.

The gravel on the ground vibrated slightly under their footsteps, and a silvery-gray mist filled the air. When the mist touched the ethereal white light, it hissed like water droplets falling on a red-hot iron plate.

Yuuto gripped the Kikuichimonji, and the lightning on the blade shone even brighter.

Chapter 133 The False Marquis 2

The fake Crowned Marquis, wielding a giant sword, was the first of the three to make a move.

He gripped the hilt of the greatsword with both hands, raised it high above his head, and then brought it down.

It's simple, brutal, and requires no skill whatsoever.

But the speed and power of this sword strike made Yuuto realize that this was not some fancy move; it was pure, extreme violence that staked everything on power and speed.

The greatsword's blade was at least thirty centimeters wide. The heavy blade crashed down with a whistling sound. Even before the blade arrived, the pressure of the sword had already sent the withered branches and pebbles at Yuu's feet flying everywhere.

Yuuto didn't take the hit head-on, but dodged to the side. The giant sword crashed into the ground, sending dirt flying and creating a crater nearly two meters in diameter. Debris and dirt flew in all directions, denting the surrounding tree trunks in countless tiny dents.

Yuuto did not retreat, but stepped forward, and Kikuichimonji swung up from the bottom lane, the blade slicing towards the wrist of the pseudo-crown lord.

The False Crown Marquis didn't dodge; he simply released the greatsword, which fell to the ground with another muffled thud. He then clenched his free left fist and slammed it towards Youren's face.

Yuuto sheathed his sword to parry, the blade blocking the fist, but the force penetrated the blade, making his entire arm go numb.

The triple reversal of life flowed through his body, dispersing the impact throughout his entire body, and several more cracks appeared in the ground beneath his feet.

Yu Ren used the momentum to retreat, creating a distance of several meters between himself and the fake crowned marquis.

The False Crown Marquis bent down to pick up the greatsword, gripped it with both hands, and pointed the tip of the sword diagonally at the ground.

His movements were slow, but each movement carried an indescribable sense of oppression, like a mountain, an abyss, or a dark cloud pressing down on his head.

Silver-gray mist seeped out from the gaps in his armor, swirling around the greatsword and coating the blade with a pale light.

Yuuto gripped the Kikuichimonji sword, its shimmering white aura flowing across the blade and intertwining with the blue and white arcs of lightning from the Thunder Magic.

He took a deep breath and charged forward again.

At the same time, Tsukumo Yuki also clashed with the False Crown Marquis wielding a halberd.

Tsukumo's fighting style is completely different from Yuuto's.

She doesn't have as many fancy abilities as Youren. She doesn't have the Golden Light Mantra, the Reverse Life Triple, or the Heavenly Talisman. She only has the Phoenix Wheel and the Wrath of the Stars.

But in her hands, these two things are the sharpest weapons.

The Phoenix Wheel spun rapidly beside her, its golden light growing brighter and brighter, illuminating the dim forest.

Ninety-nine did not rush to attack; she was waiting for the False Crown Marquis to make the first move.

The fake-crowned marquis, wielding a halberd, didn't keep her waiting long. He spun the halberd in his hand, the blade thrusting out from the side with such speed that it left a pale afterimage in the air.

As Jiujiu turned to the side, the halberd blade grazed her waist, tearing a gash in her coat.

She did not retreat. The Phoenix Wheel slammed into the back of the False Crown Marquis from the other side, and the golden disc smashed onto the armor, exploding into a burst of golden flames.

The False Crown Marquis staggered forward a step, but he quickly regained his balance, swept his halberd back, and slashed at Jiujiu's neck.

Ninety-nine ducked to avoid it, and the Phoenix Wheel flew over her head, crashing into the shaft of the halberd.

The golden light collided with the silver-gray mist, creating another shockwave.

The fake-crowned lord, wielding a warhammer, charged toward Youren, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly.

Instead of hacking and slashing like the Greatsword Master, he used the head of his warhammer to strike repeatedly, one blow after another, each strike carrying immense force.

Yu Ren didn't try to take the hit head-on again. He used his lightning teleportation to explode beneath his feet, and blue-white arcs of electricity carried him out from under the hammerhead, making him appear to the side of the False Crown Marquis.

The chrysanthemum-shaped sword slashed horizontally, its blade cutting into the side of the false crowned marquis. The blade penetrated half an inch into his flesh before being stopped by his armor.

The Qi of the Reverse Life Triple Flowed on the blade, increasing its output, and the blade cut in another half inch.

The False Crown Marquis felt the pain, roared, and swung his warhammer, forcing Youren back.

He glanced down at the wound on his side; a crack had appeared in his armor, and silvery-gray mist was seeping out from the fissure.

"You hurt me." The voice of the fake crowned marquis was not angry, but calmly stating a fact. He raised his head, his expression unseen beneath the pale mask, but Youren sensed that he was smiling.

Yuuto did not respond.

The lightning on the kiku-ichi character shone even brighter.

The fake Crowned Marquis, wielding a giant sword, swung his sword again, but Yuuto dodged to the side, the blade flashing up from below.

The armor of the false crowned marquis shattered under the blade, and a silvery-gray mist gushed out.

He didn't back down, but instead punched Yuuto in the chest with his left fist.

Yu Ren didn't dodge; the golden light membrane of the mantra condensed in his chest, and he took the punch head-on.

The fist slammed into the light membrane, which flickered violently a few times but did not shatter.

Yuuto was knocked back two steps, and felt a dull pain in his chest, but he was not seriously injured.

The Qi of the Reverse Life Triple circulated within his body, suppressing the pain.

He steadied himself, holding the Kikuichimonji horizontally in front of him, the lightning crackling on its blade.

The False Crown Marquis looked down at the gash on his chest, cut open by the Chrysanthemum Ichimonji. His armor had shattered, revealing a layer of grayish-white bone-like hard shell underneath.

He reached out and touched the crack, his fingertips brushing against the soft tissue beneath the hard shell, where a silvery-gray liquid seeped out.

"Your sword is not bad." The voice of the False Crown Marquis came from within the armor, deep and hoarse, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

He gripped the hilt of the greatsword tightly, and the silver-gray mist between the gaps in his armor surged violently.

On the outskirts of the forest, Nanami Kento and Kusakabe Atsuya were still locked in battle with their subordinate army.

Seven Seas' ten-stroke incantation precisely marked the weakness of each skeleton guard, and the black flash exploded at the weak point, blasting the bone armor into fragments.

His knife was fast, each strike swift and decisive, killing one enemy with a single blow.

But his breathing had begun to become rapid, a large area of ​​the hem of his trench coat was charred, and a tear was found in the sleeve of his left arm, from which blood seeped and dripped down his fingers.