The replacement only withstood two sword strikes from Brian before his weapon was directly knocked away.

Rather than being a part of the patrol team, they were more like a gang of thugs, Brian thought angrily. What had these people done besides extortion and blackmail? He and Greyhound meticulously carried out the lord's orders, making them seem like outcasts in the team.

But...it was precisely this group of good-for-nothings, these scoundrels who would harm the town to curry favor with the fortress, who killed Greyhound using the most despicable means.

Unforgivable!

He swung his sword at the neck of his terrified opponent—

Just then, a dark figure stabbed out from the side, approaching Brian's heart in the blink of an eye. This attack was too concealed; by the time he noticed it, it was too late to parry.

In desperation, he kicked off the ground, throwing his body backward, while simultaneously feeling a sharp pain in his chest.

After rolling twice, he stood up smoothly and immediately adopted a defensive stance. The sneak attack had only pierced his coat and skin, thankfully causing no serious injury. The key was the person who had delivered the blow! He didn't recall anyone in the patrol team possessing such swordsmanship.

"Oh? You actually dodged it," the man said, pushing away his weaponless teammate as he stepped forward.

By the light of the fire, Brian realized that he didn't recognize the man at all—he wasn't tall, but his hands were excessively long, almost reaching his knees when hanging down. His face was also unfamiliar; Brian swore he had never seen it before.

"You're not one of the patrol team...who exactly are you?"

Although he didn't interact much with the five others next door, he still knew who they were. This guy had obviously replaced one of them and infiltrated the castle with the team. It wasn't strange that he hadn't noticed while traveling at night, but Scarface and the others couldn't have failed to notice. Since they weren't surprised, there was only one explanation: this guy had been specially arranged by Scarface.

"You've already guessed the answer, so why ask?" He smiled indifferently. "Anyway, you're about to die."

"Damn it, he hurt me!" Scarface said resentfully. "Viper, quickly chop off his hands and feet; I want to slowly drain his blood!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hills, but I must prioritize the task given to me by the Earl."

Before the words had finished, the man called Viper charged forward. He attacked from tricky and bizarre angles, and with his extremely long arm span, Brian was forced into a difficult fight, retreating repeatedly without any chance to counterattack.

Careless! Brian was getting anxious. After fighting for so long in the underground passage, the people above should have noticed, right?

Originally, he had planned to avenge Greyhound himself, but now he could only hope to hold on a little longer, waiting for His Highness's guard knights to come and encircle these villains.

"You seem to be expecting something," Viper suddenly paused his attack. "I guess you're hoping the Prince's men will come to save you? Unfortunately, this stone castle is different from the taverns and inns you're used to. In those wooden-framed houses, the entire floorboard creaks when someone is having fun. Here, as long as the door is closed, even if you shout at the top of your lungs, no one above will hear you."

Brian was taken aback as his thoughts were revealed, and Viper waited for this opportunity. He maintained his downward-pointing sword position to lull his opponent, while subtly raising his other hand to trigger the hidden crossbow in his sleeve.

A bolt, only the length of an index finger, shot out from the sleeve. Brian only heard the soft hum of the bowstring before the bolt was already lodged in his lung.

Unbearable pain exploded in his chest, and Brian threw his longsword at the approaching Viper, turning to run away. But the blood seeping from his lungs quickly flooded his trachea, making it difficult to breathe. He didn't run far before tripping over the threshold and falling heavily to the ground.

Viper quickly caught up, wanting to finish off his opponent, but Scarface stopped him.

"Let me do it," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to let this guy know what it's like to stab me!"

A cold glint flashed across Viper's face, but he eventually stepped aside. "Do it quickly and don't forget our real business."

Scarface grabbed Brian's hair and roared at him, "Believe me, you're going to die in a lot of pain."

Brian wanted to spit a mouthful of blood in his face, but all his strength was draining away like water. He knew he didn't have much longer to live. Past regrets flooded his mind, such as the wife he had yet to meet, and the knightly dream he could never fulfill. But his greatest regret was...not being able to avenge Greyhound.

Wait, what was that?

He blinked. A woman was sitting on a box in front of him. Although he couldn't see her clearly in the dim light, her shapely figure indicated that she was undoubtedly a woman.

Hell, was this a hallucination...? When he fell into this room, he didn't see anyone inside. Could it be that the gods in heaven heard his complaints and specially created a fantasy to comfort him?

"Hey, you guys are making such a racket on someone else's turf, and you're planning to kill someone in front of me? I'm afraid that's not appropriate, is it?"

Brian felt Scarface's hand tremble and abruptly release his hair. The sound of weapons being drawn came from around him, and several sharp shouts rang out simultaneously, "Who are you!?"

Their reactions were too... Wait, Brian thought hazily, could it be that what he was seeing wasn't a hallucination?

"Of course, I'm someone from here," the woman said, jumping down from the wooden barrel and bending over to brush the dust off her robe. In the dim firelight, Brian saw a peculiar pattern embroidered on her robe – three adjacent triangles, and a huge eye embedded in the center. The outline of the eye reflected specks of gold in the firelight.

"And you? Rats sneaking in from the gutter?" Her voice was clear and pleasant, but devoid of emotion. This was abnormal... Anyone seeing a murder scene shouldn't be so calm.

Viper also realized this. His expression turned serious, and he slowly circled to the side of the woman, suddenly thrusting his sword straight at her.

The woman didn't even turn her head, casually waving her hand. Viper didn't even see her weapon, only feeling a gust of cold wind brush past his body.

A scream rang out. Scarface stared in disbelief, watching Viper rush forward and quickly retreat, the arm that had been holding his sword now empty.

His arm, along with the sword, fell to the ground.

Fear instantly gripped Scarface's throat. Others might not know, but he was very clear about Viper's background. "Ruthless, cunning, and dangerous." That was the Earl's assessment of him. Someone valued and recruited by the Earl was definitely not someone to be trifled with. Even Brian would have difficulty enduring his attacks for half an hour. But now, a woman had casually severed his entire arm with a single strike.

"What are you waiting for? Kill her!" Viper shouted, clutching his wound.

Brian's vision began to blur due to excessive blood loss. He heard the sound of chaotic footsteps all around, the clashing of weapons, and... the muffled thud of bodies falling to the ground. What exactly was happening? He struggled to turn his eyes forward—

Then, the patrol captain saw a scene he couldn't understand.

The woman's figure was like a ghost, appearing and disappearing as she walked among the crowd. With each attack, she pierced the enemy's vital points. It was more like dancing than fighting. He had never seen anyone wield a weapon of murder with such rhythm. The sword shadows flew up and down, drawing unbelievable trajectories. The people around her were nothing more than clumsy clowns in comparison. They counterattacked in vain, and then fell in vain... In the end, only she stood proudly alone in the field.

That was also the last sight Brian saw before losing consciousness.

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