Our Family Has Fallen

But Reynard swung his sword with all his might, as if impervious to pain, each strike plunging deep into the monster's flesh...

"No! You actually released it." The Witch naturally noticed the situation. She became even more furious when she saw the siren appear, as her control over the creature had been wrested away.

But before she could regain control, Lance, dragging his greatsword, rapidly closed in.

The Witch initially didn't take much notice. She simply raised her hand to point at him. In Lance's eyes, complex runes formed instantaneously. They contained power far greater than any Curses he had previously encountered; those earlier ones were beyond comparison.

However, the Curse landed on Lance without hindering his movement. He continued to charge forward at great speed.

This anomaly instantly caught the Witch's attention. She could feel the Curse suddenly dissolve—a situation she had never encountered before, leaving her momentarily stunned.

To resist so easily suggests either some treasure on his person or extraordinary strength. This man is no ordinary mercenary.

Either possibility induced envy in her. She too had once been a beloved treasure of the old ancestors, having everything she wanted. Now, she was reduced to such a state. It was impossible for her not to feel such resentment towards Lance.

But Lance cared not for her attitude. As her enemy, there was only one path for her—death!

The distance between them was rapidly closing, his greatsword poised and ready to strike.

Yet, the Witch did not appear flustered. Instead, a cruel smile spread across her face.

I'll teach this young man a lesson. Judging by his looks, his flesh must be quite firm.

Thinking this, the Witch finally unleashed her emotions, involuntarily extending her inhumanly long tongue to lick her lips.

Lance had been observing all along. The Witch's strange gaze sent a chill down his spine, but it did not instill fear. Instead, he quickened his pace and swung his greatsword towards her.

The Witch, seeing Lance closing in, reached out to stir her cauldron, scooping up a ladleful of the Potion and flinging it at him.

Seeing the odd, thick soup, one didn't need to think twice to know it was nothing good. His greatsword swung wide. Then, using the blade's inertia, he swiftly sidestepped. In the next instant, the thick soup hit the ground. It instantly released a puff of yellow-green smoke that even corroded the soil.

Damn it, if that splashed on someone, could they even survive? Seeing this, Lance couldn't help but feel alarmed.

But his hesitation was only momentary. Lance's fighting spirit did not waver in the slightest as he directed his dancing greatsword towards the Witch.

Logically, an old Witch, being a "Mage," should be at a disadvantage in close combat, much like the previous old hag who had become completely flustered.

But it didn't take long for Lance to change his view, for his swinging greatsword was blocked.

The greatsword stopped in front of the Witch. She held a ladle in her left hand and a strangely shaped Bone Hammer in her right.

The face of the Bone Hammer met the greatsword. Astonishingly, she blocked it with just one hand!

Simultaneously, the greatsword began to tilt towards him, meaning his combined strength with both hands was no match for the Witch's single hand.

"WOW WOW WOW! Quite sturdy, aren't we~" The Witch cackled wildly at the shocked expression on Lance's face, her hand beginning to exert force.

Lance felt the intensity of the contest. The Witch's corpulent body contained not just fat, but terrifying strength.

The Witch pushed away the greatsword and followed up with a swing of her Bone Hammer. With that kind of power, a direct hit would probably turn him into a meat pancake.

Fuck!

Lance inwardly cursed and didn't dare to confront her head-on. Using his greatsword as a shield, a musket materialized in his hand.

Battle is decided in the blink of an eye, with no room for hesitation. He immediately pressed forward and pulled the trigger.

This is the swordsmanship of Hamlet!

BANG!

The gunfire erupted suddenly. The Witch, caught off guard by such an unexpected attack, failed to react in time as the bullet struck the armor woven from individual white bones.

Spirit Light flared, and although the armor shattered, it still blocked the bullet.

Absurd!

Lance couldn't help but be startled when he saw this. He finally understood why Barton had said that the Knights of Holy Light from the Church were not afraid of bullets.

Supernatural Power once again displayed its formidable might, giving Lance a small shock.

But there was no time to dwell on that. He swung his greatsword down at the Witch.

This sword stroke unleashed all his power, enough to split a horse in two.

The recent surprise attack had clearly enraged the Witch. Her thick arms swung the Bone Hammer to collide with the greatsword. It was a brutal, head-on clash with no room for tricks. Lance couldn't withstand it; his hands trembled violently. He could only retreat to offload the force.

The Witch certainly didn't want Lance to escape. When she saw his musket reappear, she instinctively raised her arms to block. Her pursuit faltered.

But no shot followed. Instead, she heard a mocking voice.

"What are you afraid of? It's not even loaded."

That's right. I just fired. Where would another bullet come from?

Just as the Witch lowered her arms, gunfire erupted unexpectedly.

Before she could react further, a sharp pain shot through her. The bullet tore through her witchcraft protection and burrowed into her body, forcing out a scream.

"AAAH!"

Another gunshot accompanied her scream. Lance quickly planted his greatsword in front of him as cover. The muskets in his hands kept changing—long barrels, short barrels—all aimed and firing at the Witch. He alone produced the firepower of ten men, forcing the previously arrogant Witch to duck and scramble for cover.

What can block bullets? It just means the bullets aren't big enough, or the firepower isn't intense enough! With something bigger and stronger, any demon or fiend can be dealt with!

A smile appeared on Lance's face. If he couldn't match strength, he would use skill. If he couldn't win in melee, he would fight at range. He had always been so versatile.

Still, being corpulent had its advantages at this moment. She blocked with both arms, protecting her head, making a headshot difficult. Though her hands bled profusely, such injuries were clearly not enough to kill her.

Instead, it gave her a moment to react and crouch behind the cauldron. The bullets hitting the cauldron left no mark; it was clearly a valuable item.

Lance could only pause his firing and begin to swiftly reload the musket in his hand. He typically carried thirty muskets; once fired, they needed reloading.

Only when the Witch took cover behind the cauldron did the strange cocoon behind her become visible. But before Lance could ponder it, the Witch's counterattack arrived.

She reached into the pocket at her waist and, with a backhand throw, scattered a handful of strange substances towards Lance. He had thought it was another Curse, but it turned out to be a virus that attacked the body directly.

His innards spasmed. Intense dizziness accompanied by nausea surged to his brain. A complex array of afflictions tormented Lance's body. He nearly lost his balance, forced to lean on his greatsword as he stared fixedly at the enemy.

"TEE HEE HEE!" Seeing this, the Witch seemed to have found Lance's weakness. However, she didn't press her attack. Instead, she grabbed another handful of ingredients, tossed them into the cauldron, then scooped up a ladleful of the bizarrely scented, thick soup and drank it.

The bullet wounds on her body began to heal. Most noticeably, bullets were squeezed out from her blood-drenched arms as new flesh grew over the coarse skin.

In an instant, Lance's perceived advantage was lost; instead, he was now heavily injured.

Lance tried using Flesh Reconstruction and Bless, but they only offered momentary relief. The next second, the illness would reassert its agonizing grip, eroding his strength. The torment was unbearable.

Undeniably, the Witch's formidable strength and eerie witchcraft had plunged Lance into an unprecedented crisis.

"Does it hurt terribly~?" The Witch seemed to notice Lance's distress. Her smile never left her face, but her eyes revealed a venomous desire to tear Lance apart alive and devour him.

Seemingly impatient, the Witch charged at Lance the moment her wounds healed, her Bone Hammer swinging directly at his head...