The Laughing Swordsman

Chapter 305 – Lion In A Flock Of Sheep

There wasn't the slightest bit of hesitation as over a hundred people charged straight towards Vicar, Willow included.

However, this didn't even seem to disturb Vicar. His expression would make one think that he was actually relaxing in a spa. Though, the people that were fighting him definitely did not see that image.

As the army approached, it seemed like Vicar wasn't going to move. Yet, once they were just a few meters away, he did.

Not backwards, but straight into the middle.

It was as though a lion made its way into a flock of sheep.

As he dived in, a man attempted to swing his sword at Vicar, but it glided past and ended up lodging itself into the shoulder of one of his teammates.

Immediately, agonizing cries filled the air despite Vicar himself not attacking. Another man with a spear thrust it towards him, fully determined to either kill the opposing person, or die here.

However, it seemed his spear was just slightly off, as it went just past Vicar's stomach and hit someone else's sword, preventing them from bringing it down. Then, Vicar swung his greatsword.

It was fast.

Too fast.

The man with the spear could only see a white blur before he couldn't see anything at all.

Because his head exploded into a mass of flesh.

As for Vicar, he didn't seem fazed at all that he just killed a man like that. In fact, he even slowly closed his eyes as though he considered this situation to be one where he could just sleep.

Vicar's greatsword flew around him almost like it was actually a mirage. It made it seem as though it was light, but that was not the case.

One person attempted to slash, but halfway through, his sword was hit.

With a loud bang, it shot out of his hands and pierced another person's neck. The person that lost his sword had snapped both wrists, his hands now dangling. And soon after, his head came off too.

Despite the bloody massacre and how badly the army of people had been losing, not one person ran. Perhaps everybody knew the consequences of charging in, that it was almost certain death.

But nobody decided to back off.

Willow was originally at the front, but Vicar slipped past her easily. She too wanted to join in the battle because she was just as suicidal as the others. However, there were simply too many people with the same thought, thus couldn't get closer.

Instead, she just grit her teeth and waited for her turn to come along.

All of Vicars's movements were smooth, like polished butter. It was to the point that it made him seem like he was moving slow, even while he was moving fast.

He had his eyes closed, but it was as though he could actually see everything. Nobody's actions escaped his sight. Each attack either was deflected into someone else or was rendered useless altogether.

It seemed nearly impossible, or at least unfair.

Vicar had the heaviest weapon, but swung it faster than the person with the lightest. A woman holding onto her longsword proudly waited for an opportunity instead of rushing forth. Eventually, Vicar swung his greatsword into someone, directly splitting their body into several pieces.

That direction was the exact opposite of the woman, thus giving her the opportunity to lunge forth with her sword. However, she suddenly found her balance was lost, throwing her strike just barely off course.

Then, a white gleam came straight for her neck.

It was because Vicar tripped her, sweeping his leg past. Despite having his back turned, that didn't matter.

The fresh smell of blood permeated the air while the dead bodies continued to stack up. Willow watched as the comrades she fought countless life and death battles with perished.

It was as though they were just livestock, meant to be slaughtered.

She grit her teeth as fury blazed in her eyes, but it could not stop everyone from dying. She could not stop their furious and hardened expressions from turning into dull and lifeless ones.

It was not as though the people with black hair were just recklessly swinging at the people in front. They were actually putting their all into it, creating formations they have used upon surrounding people before.

They would either attack in sync, or use the opportunity from one person's attack for their own. It was clear that each and every single one of them had gone through countless bloody battles.

But it was all pointless in front of Vicar.

His movements were strange. They didn't seem to be structured or have a proper reason for their execution. Yet, it was him that came out unscathed while his opponent was dead.

One person aimed to grapple him by attempting to grab his arm. Yet, Vicar's elbow shot out and hit the person square in the face, cracking their skull.

Two others attempted to take advantage of his outstretched elbow. Vicar's hand shot out like a needle, landing onto someone's wrist and causing them to cry out in pain.

That person let go of their sword and ended up ramming their own face into it.

As for the other person, it looked so promising when his spear shot straight towards the side of Vicar's abdomen. Yet, the moment it was going to connect, Vicar folded his body as though he was a piece of paper and let it pass on right by.

Then, he wrapped his abdomen around the hilt of the spear and yanked the person holding it. As that person stumbled forwards, a hand grabbed onto his head, before pulling it off entirely.

Finally, Willow was given an opening from that man's death.

She stepped over the corpse of her partner that just died and charged in recklessly. Willow knew by now that Vicar wasn't an easy opponent, but knew there was only one way to beat this kind of opponent.

Overwhelming them.

That meant she was just going to swing.

And hope.