Chapter 657: Actually Used Two Moves?!

"Who... who are you?!" The faces of the other black-robed ascetics darkened with profound gravity; they never expected that Lord Muye's projected clone would be slain in a single instant!

"Just who... exactly are you?!" Unlike the others, this group of black-robed ascetics, though astonished, had not fallen into panic like Luther and his cohorts.

They were distinct from Luther; their training and past experiences had long since taught them to disregard matters of life and death, and in a world where incomprehensible things were already plenty, the current situation was perhaps unexpected to them, yet perhaps also within the realm of reason.

In fact, part of the very purpose for their existence was to resolve these unexpected anomalies.

Every single one of them was capable of standing alone; in their limited lifetimes, they had slain terrifying monsters and assassinated revered princes and dukes—a group such as this making it entirely possible to assassinate even a true Saint-tier expert.

Similarly, they differed from ordinary soldiers, a distinction that manifested not only in terms of technique.

At the same time, it was evident in their physical constitution.

A single ninth-tier Anti-Magic Domain scroll could reduce a high-and-mighty ninth-tier mage to an ordinary person, and it could likewise turn a ninth-tier Heavenly Knight into a mere mortal whose combat skills were simply a bit superior.

And at that moment, their lives would become as fragile as any mortal's; sometimes, a gentle thrust of a sword into a vital spot was all it took, and even the most formidable expert would find death inescapable.

Could this concept then be applied to assassination? Naturally, it could, which was why these ascetics, though their cultivation might not be terrifyingly high, had always been the absolute sovereigns within this Anti-Magic Domain.

Solidifying the physical flesh would alter a person's bodily condition, creating tremendous safety hazards; therefore, divine arts were usually bestowed upon armor and weapons, which was also the most commonplace method.

Yet even this most common of divine arts was something only those at or above the rank of High Priest were qualified to learn, and the difficulty of cultivating it was immense.

For soldiers armed to the teeth, full-plate armor combined with divine arts was already sufficient to withstand any attack.

These ascetics, however, were different; for the sake of mobility, they naturally could not wear thick, heavy armor, so permanent magical formulas and even divine arts were solidified within their bodies, allowing them to engage in hand-to-hand combat with third- or fourth-tier magical beasts using sheer physical strength, without needing any technique whatsoever.

And it was not just strength; their speed, reflexes, and all other faculties far surpassed those of ordinary men.

Coupled with the curses and deadly poisons laced upon their weapons, any expert, upon encountering them under conditions where their power was suppressed, would surely face certain death.

Their comprehensive strength had already exceeded that of Irina and the other assassins by far, making it an inevitability that these assassins would suffer devastating losses under the element of surprise.

They did not believe that Fang Qi, acting entirely alone, could contend with so many of them.

Their blades needed only to graze a fraction of Fang Qi's skin to strip him entirely of his combat capability.

"Do not worry!" Each of them was capable of holding their own, so a leaderless panic would naturally not occur, and very quickly, another stepped forward to take over the responsibilities of command, "He is but a single man!"

Meanwhile, within the prison of the Kingdom of Stan.

"Who... who dares to turn off the projection?"

"Beat him!"

"I have had quite enough!" The assassins suddenly erupted in revolt.

Amidst a chorus of wretched screams, several guards present on the scene, along with those who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, were struck to the ground by the massive crowd of assassins.

Only then did they sit back down in the square with satisfaction, continuing to watch the magical projection.

"Tell me, is this gentleman 'Altaïr' or 'Ezio'?" an old man inquired.

"I think... it should be Master Ezio. I heard that Ezio's assassin attire features a small white cape over the shoulder," another old man whispered.

Meanwhile, before Fang Qi, the black-robed ascetics divided into two columns, orderly and methodical, just as they had faced their past foes; they understood that the figure before them was an absolute and formidable adversary, yet how many formidable adversaries had fallen beneath their blades in the past?

Throughout the grand hall, a chilling aura of slaughter loomed; the oppressive atmosphere made it difficult for all the onlookers watching the battle to even catch their breath.

With their powers shackled, this would undoubtedly be a clash of the most pristine combat techniques and experience, a duel of the bloodiest killing arts.

Swift! The speed of these black-robed ascetics was truly far too fast for ordinary men, to the point where one could only discern a streak of dark shadow darting forward.

Yet Fang Qi, who was currently in a state of perfect synchronization, suddenly swayed slightly; before the crowd could even comprehend what had transpired, the black-robed ascetic who had rushed forward first found his sword-wielding wrist seized and pulled by Fang Qi, and the short blade in Fang Qi's hand, as though piercing a thin sheet of paper, instantly bored two gaping holes into his back.

The short sword of another ascetic followed immediately in succession; Fang Qi sidestepped minutely, and his reverse-gripped short blade smoothly slit the opponent's sword-wielding wrist, causing blood from the severed main artery to spray across the ground on the spot.

One attack after another followed in rapid succession, the dark shadows of blades intertwining into a web of death; their offensive could not be called anything less than fierce, for they were truly those who understood the art of slaughter, every strike nearly impossible to evade, with almost no redundant movement in their thrusts.

Yet Fang Qi's counters seemed guided by divine foresight; as though possessing eyes in the back of his head, he crouched down low in the span of a lightning flash, and at almost the exact same instant, a blade behind him traced a trajectory of death.

Nearly simultaneously, Fang Qi used the momentum to drive the short blade in his hand fiercely into the instep of the black-robed ascetic charging from the front, pinning it completely through!

It gave off the impression that Fang Qi had been aiming specifically for the front enemy's instep all along, and evading the attack from the enemy behind was merely incidental.

His offense seemed to carry an elegant, fluid rhythm, as though no one could possibly interrupt it.

The attacks crossed and shifted within the span of a spark, leaving onlookers virtually dizzy from the sight.

The leader's expression turned frostily grim; he knew that if he did not strike now, it would be too late!

But at that moment, Fang Qi soared high like a great, snow-white eagle, his short blade plunging down fiercely!

Clang!

With a crisp ring of clashing metal, the new leader actually managed to block this heavy, forceful thrust, immediately followed by a fierce punch from his left hand aimed straight at Qi.

Fang Qi, however, merely extended his palm to catch it smoothly; before anyone could react, the hidden blade beneath his sleeve snapped out, instantly piercing through the opponent's palm, and with a powerful shove, the hidden blade drove straight into the chest!

"How... is this possible!" The ascetic collapsed, his gaze vacant and uncomprehending.

The Shrine expended a terrifying sum of wealth on them every year, ensuring that both their physical resilience and strength far surpassed ordinary men, and their combat experience and techniques were likewise incomparable to commoners; yet why were they killed by this man before them in at most one or two moves!?

Could it be that the wealth the Shrine invested in them all these years was spent in vain?!

And at this moment, Owner Fang was also staring at the ascetic with a face full of bewilderment: My physical body was enhanced by the system's perfect version of the T-Virus, capable of killing a magical beast with a single punch based on sheer strength alone, and I am in perfect synchronization with Ezio's peak combat techniques, yet a single strike didn't finish this guy off?! It actually took two moves?