Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Samael's smile blossomed into a radiant grin, and under his meaningful scrutiny, Melie broke out in a cold sweat, her body trembling involuntarily.

Chapter 47 Samael's Night Raid

"I can't give you an answer right now..."

Mary's eyes darted around, and she gave a forced laugh as she uttered a strained answer.

"Buzz!"

In an instant, the ether hummed!

The man with a benevolent expression, surrounded by flying divine runes, gathered a ball of red and black light in his hand, and gazed at the white-haired succubus in front of him with a bright smile. He gave her a "take care" look and slowly stepped forward.

Mary felt a chill run down her spine and immediately began to explain her plan at lightning speed.

"I can help you infiltrate her dreams and see what's on her mind!"

Seeing the elongated shadow before him completely engulf his body, the Great Sage swallowed hard and quickly added.

"Now! Immediately! Right now!"

"Snapped!"

With a crisp sound, a slender hand landed on Mary's shoulder. The white-haired succubus shuddered, and her body involuntarily trembled with a tingling sensation.

"In broad daylight! Spying on your companions' secrets, what kind of behavior is this!"

Samael snorted and patted Meryl on the shoulder, scolding her with a righteous and stern expression.

Ah, this...

The unscrupulous instigator, his plan thwarted, stood there dumbfounded.

As night fell, the moon rose high in the sky, and all was quiet.

"Are they all fast asleep?"

"definitely!"

"you sure?"

"Don't worry, I'm an expert at sensing dreams!"

"Well then, let's begin..."

Two silent figures on the street in front of the corridor muttered something to each other, then carefully avoided the numerous warning spells and stealthily made their way to the most secluded door.

Under the cold moonlight, their faces were revealed.

It was Samael and Meli.

Entering a dream during the day is too risky and has a bad influence, so it's definitely not an option.

Therefore, it's safer to come at night.

"Merry, is this trick of yours even reliable? I'm warning you, don't mess with me, or you know what will happen!"

Samael remained wary of his insignificant ally and couldn't help but question and threaten him again.

"Of course! Entering dreams is my area of ​​expertise! Besides, at this point, you're not trying to run away, are you?"

At the door, the white-haired nightmare patted its chest proudly as it tinkered with something.

"Okay, let's go in."

As she spoke, Mary deftly used her shapeshifting magic to pry open the door lock with a twist and turn of her hand, leaving the warning magic behind the door intact and without disturbing the sleeper inside.

You're really good at this!

Samael was amazed by Meryl's skill in picking locks and entering, but he also cautiously signaled the woman to go first and scout the area.

The ancient serpent followed behind the great sage in a lewd manner, staring maliciously at her unguarded back and slender neck, its muscles constantly taut.

If Morgan were to wake up, his good friend, who had acted bravely and righteously, could guarantee to take down the "night raider" Mary immediately, and incidentally complete a series of additional conditions for shifting blame and taking credit.

There's no way around it; if you sneak into someone's bedroom late at night and get caught, there's no way to explain it away.

So, you chose this situation, and if it happens, then you'll have to make a sacrifice.

Samael, utterly devoid of any sense of camaraderie, was scheming how to betray his teammates in the worst-case scenario. The invisible malice emanating from him sent a chill down the spine of Melly, who was walking ahead.

Fortunately, the dream demons, being a race born from dreams, slept soundly that night, except for the two of them.

Even Morgan in bed was no exception.

However, the sleeping witch was curled up in a ball, as if wrapped in a cocoon, feeling no sense of security. At the same time, her brows were furrowed and her forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, as if she were experiencing a terrible nightmare.

Run! Run!

In the dimly lit forest filled with hazy mist, a silver-haired witch wearing a veil and a trench coat sat astride her warhorse, leaning nervously against its back, urging her mount to gallop.

Whoosh whoosh!

At the same time, a sharp, piercing sound came from behind, as dense as rain.

Fortunately, the branches in the dense forest were scattered and oblique, blocking most of the flying arrows. One by one, the feathered arrows pierced through the ancient trees along the way, scattering wood chips and making a dull "thud" sound.

Even a few arrows that dodged the obstacles nearly tore through the thin armor plates beneath her clothes, narrowly grazing the witch's skin and bringing a chilling sensation.

But luck won't always be on the side of this fugitive.

puff!puff!

As the trees thinned out, two powerful arrows pierced the hind legs and sides of the warhorse with lightning speed.

"boom!"

In an instant, the galloping warhorse buckled and fell heavily to the ground, sending up clouds of dust and scattering fallen leaves everywhere.

The warhorse's forelegs were twisted and broken from the violent impact, blood gushing from the wounds. Its neighing grew weaker and weaker, and it coughed up blood frothy with pink bubbles.

Clearly, one of the arrows pierced the warhorse's lung.

But the horse's owner had no time to care about any of that.

Even more deadly was that the overturned warhorse, by sheer coincidence, pinned one of her legs down, causing intense pain that made the witch break out in a cold sweat.

As if things weren't bad enough, the sound of horses' hooves grew clearer and clearer all around, accompanied by cruel shouts.

"Brothers, that chick can't run anymore! Grab her, let's enjoy the princess's service too!"

"Do whatever you want with it, but remember, it has to be alive!"

"That's right, King Uther's only daughter will definitely fetch a good price!"

Dozens of knights, their faces obscured by black cloaks, lowered their bows and drew their longswords, grinning maliciously as they surrounded them from all sides.

Seeing the shadowy figures approaching with ill intent, Morgan, pinned beneath his warhorse, gritted his teeth. He immediately dipped his fingertips in his own blood and began chanting incantations while drawing Ogan script on the ground.

"Earth and stone are my body, water is my blood, trees are my fortress. With mysterious heritage, I summon ancient wisdom to answer my call and awaken from slumber—descend, guardian of the earth!"

As the final stroke was completed, the crimson magic circle shone brightly, like living veins, stretching out in all directions.

Boom...

Instantly, the earth rumbled and trembled. A giant monster, seven or eight meters tall, with a body made of rock and green grass growing on its head and joints, crawled out of the crack in the ground. With its majestic figure, it blocked the summoner's path, raised its hand to form a sword from stone, and then swung the nearly three-meter-long weapon, sweeping it across the pursuers.

Puff puff puff!

In an instant, several of the leading knights, horse and all, were violently slapped away, their bones shattered, and they fell to the ground as puddles of flesh.

Seeing that there was no way to avoid it, the black-clad cavalrymen became fierce. They immediately drew their armor-piercing blunt weapons and, relying on their excellent horsemanship, weaved and circled from both sides, hacking and smashing at the rock monster's joints.

However, the monster remained motionless, its raised foot kicking and stomping forward, causing people and horses to fall and tearing a bloody path through the jungle of swords and blades.

"Damn it, we can't get through!"

"Damn it! How come this woman's magic hasn't run out yet!"

"Don't rush, retreat! She can't hold out much longer!"

Looking at the blood and flesh scattered all around them, the black-clad knights, who had lost a third of their men, felt a sense of retreat. Amidst the clamor and shouts, they turned their horses around and distanced themselves.

As expected, the summoned Earth Guardians, limited by their master's distance and magic supply, could only operate within a radius of about a hundred meters.

Even more insidiously, the pursuers, who had retreated to a hundred meters away, still did not forget to harass them from a distance with bows and arrows.

Left with no other option, Morgan had to order the Earth Guardians to return to their vicinity and remove the warhorse that was pinning her down.

With the clanging of arrows striking rocks, the Earth Guardian crouched down and carried its carefully protected master to the tree trunk, a blind spot for the arrows, to temporarily avoid the onslaught.

However, the movement of his limbs caused excruciating pain to his right leg, which was pinned beneath the warhorse.

It must be a fracture...

Morgan held a wooden stick in his mouth, gritted his teeth, and placed his hands on the broken bones. Relying on his senses and willpower, he forced himself to align with the broken bones and squeezed out the little magic he had from his empty body to barely heal himself.

After being subjected to such torture, she was drenched in sweat, looking as if she had been pulled out of the water.

The Earth Guardian, having lost the support of magic, crumbled, its majestic body turning into scattered earth and stones.

"vomit!"

As a result of the backlash, the witch vomited a mouthful of blood. Her pale face was almost devoid of color, and the dizziness in her mind intensified wave after wave.

I can't sleep... I can't sleep!

Noticing the rustling sounds gradually coming from all around, Morgan raised his trembling arm and slapped his cheek, hurriedly trying to dispel his drowsiness and perk himself up.

But looking around, the Earth Guardians were already in ruins, the dying warhorses exposed had long been riddled with arrows, and his own broken right leg had just healed, leaving him with no ability to move around vigorously.

Nowadays, even escaping is a luxury.

Is this really the end?

A hint of despair crossed the witch's face, but she resolutely bit her tongue to regain her senses.

Chapter Forty-Eight: Mei Liangxin and Wu Daode!

No, there are too many things I haven't finished! I must live! Live to quell the rebellion, live to reclaim my father's throne!

Finally, this unwavering determination, deeply ingrained in her blood and soul, made the princess, in dire straits, take a deep breath, pick up the longsword and bow from the corpses of several black-clad cavalrymen nearby, hold them to her chest, and look at them with resolute eyes.

As dusk fell, a blood-soaked figure staggered out of the dense forest. His once fair and flawless skin was now covered with wounds of all sizes, and the torn flesh and congealed blood were stuck to his clothes.

With each step the witch took, her wounds aggravated, as if she were dancing on the edge of a knife.

Finally, whether it was a moment or half a century later, that body, supported entirely by willpower, struggled to the lakeside, but then could no longer hold on and fell into the icy lake.

The biting cold washed over the wounded flesh, seeped into the blood and marrow, and seemed to gradually freeze even the soul.

But at the same time, the nourishment of water and the rhythm of nature also allowed this scarred body to slowly regain its magic.

Amidst the pain of destruction and rebirth, the butterfly finally emerges from its cocoon.

The witch, soaking wet, climbed ashore, draped in the clothes she had stripped from her pursuers, and gazed at the long road ahead, murmuring to herself.

Survived...

Time to set off again...

The wounded Britannian witch embarks on a new journey, seeking help from the lords, large and small, who once served under her father Uther in the south.

However, each inquiry was met with a rejection.

Cornwall.

"Sir Hector, you are the most trustworthy and noble man in Britain. Please help me quell the rebellion in the South and reclaim the throne."

“Your Highness, please forgive me for being unable to pledge allegiance to you. According to His Majesty Uther’s prophecy, only the one who pulls out that sword is qualified to become the King of Britain.”

Oxfordshire.

"Lord of Oxford, you are my father's close friend..."

"I'm sorry, there are uprisings everywhere, and I'm too busy to handle everything. Everyone should take care of themselves first."

Darlington.

"I……"

"Haha, my dear niece, it's amazing that you came to me of your own accord. Do you know that Vortigern has already offered a city's worth of land and twenty chests of gold just to get you!"

The world is changing, and people's hearts are changing too.