The space in the room was not large, there was no furniture other than a wooden bed and chairs, and no furnishings and personal belongings were visible.

Clean and tidy.

The ordinary ones don't see any clues.

"It's strange that the other rooms in the castle are in ruins, why is this the only place to keep it tidy, as if it has always been inhabited."

Gorvy said suspiciously, and she turned around sharply as she spoke.

"Door!"

Roger followed the sound and saw that just where they had just entered, the broken wooden door had been regrouped, and it seemed to be indistinguishable from before.

In addition to the color of the door.

Not a blood-like red, just plain wood color.

"Squeak."

Roger stepped forward and opened the wooden door.

Warm sunlight sprinkles on the face.

This is the last rays of the sun, not dazzling but can make people feel the comfortable temperature.

In the distance is a flat lake, and the fiery red sunlight reflects the water like a magnificent ruby.

On a deck chair by the lake, an old figure sits quietly with a fishing rod in hand.

Before Roger could speak, the old man sitting in the chair lowered his voice, "Shh...... Don't talk. ”

"The fish has bitten the hook!"

He tilted his head sideways, as if he could actually hear a sound coming from underwater.

The fish opened its mouth and swallowed the bait, the soft lips were pierced by the sharp hook, and the next second the old man's wrist shook, the fishing rod was raised high, and a big fish was thrown into the air, and when it fell, it fell into the fish barrel accurately.

The old man's other sleeve was empty, and he lowered the rod, bent down to pick up the lid of the bucket, and closed the struggling fish.

Roger could see clearly that there were exactly three fish in the barrel.

He glanced back at the cabin behind him, and seemed to understand something.

The old man turned and looked at the three of them.

"You would have had a chance."

There was a hint of regret in his eyes.

"What chance?" Henrik asked.

"A chance to live."

"That cute little bird...... "Glancing at Glovy, "maybe it's all fate." ”

Roger's pupils shrank slightly, and it seemed that the old man in front of him might have noticed something when he was at Arthur's tomb.

He didn't make a move at the time, maybe he was afraid of exposing himself, but after going around and around, everything returned to square one, maybe it was really as he said.

"What shall I call you?"

"Bedwell."

The three of them breathed sluggishly.

"The First and the Last Knight."

Gorvy bit her lip, "My brother inherited Tristan's name, and it's only been a few days since I had the privilege of meeting another Legacy Knight. ”

"And he seems to be trying to kill us."

"What about the so-called chivalric virtues?"

"Just because we found out your secret?"

"Your secrets of collecting the souls of ordinary people by Arthur's tomb?"

Gorway clenched her fists. What happened to Grace made it difficult for him to have any good feelings about the Knights of the Legacy and the Knights of the Round Table.

"Your brother became a Legacy Knight?"

Bedwell sighed.

"That's something more desperate than death."

"Huh."

"Glorious Knights of the Round Table."

Bedwell tightened his grip on the rod, and when he lifted his hand, it had turned into a longsword with a cold light.

"There's no need for you to do anything with us."

Roger pursed his lips slightly, "Everything you did in the castle, although it looks terrible, it didn't hurt too many people's lives, even if we say it, it won't affect you in any way." ”

Bedwell shook his head stubbornly.

"You don't understand, you don't understand what the Legacy Knight represents, and you don't understand what role I play here."

"There's no such thing as a legacy, right?"

"The so-called heir is nothing more than a container, a container for the soul of the original knight!" ”

Bedwell smiled, "It's not a secret among the high-level transcendents, but it has nothing to do with whether or not I should kill you. ”

"Does an elephant need a reason to trample an ant to death?"

"You can only blame your bad luck......"

Before he could finish speaking, an ice arrow shot out in the distance.

Bedwell waved his hand lightly, and the sword in his hand slashed through Henrik's sneak attack.

"A second-order secret blood witch, a second-order blood hunter."

"And you......"

His gaze fell on Roger.

"Strange little guy, you may have some hole cards, but unfortunately, in the face of absolute strength, everything is meaningless."

Bedwell stepped out, his weapon blazing with flames.

"Although I am old, I can kill you......"

"One sword is enough!"

"Huh!"

The flames blocked the entire space, and in an instant, the afterglow of the setting sun in the distance was obscured by the brilliance of this sword!

But in the midst of the flames, a figure stepped out.

Roger had somehow changed into a black tight-fitting combat suit, and he ignored the flames burning around him, and the cursed sword rested in the path of Bedwell's attack.

"You may be an elephant."

Roger sneered.

"But we're not ants to be trampled on?!"

"Your strength?"

There was a hint of surprise on Bedwell's face, and he looked away, the young man in front of him was not a second-order pretending to be a ghost.

It's the third order!

Bedwell is obviously a master of swordsmanship who is good at hand-to-hand combat, and although Roger's comprehensive strength has reached the third order, his physical fitness has now become a temporary shortcoming.

It's okay to fight monsters, but you can face a guy like Bedwell with a powerful physique, terrifying energy, and superb swordsmanship.

A little defect in physical fitness will be infinitely magnified and become an irreparable loophole.

The battle suit made of the cloak on his body suddenly shrunk, and the dark energy poured into the cursed sword, and Roger did not hesitate to activate one of the abilities that came with the cursed sword.

[Blood Feast]: When the soul enveloping the sword reaches saturation and activates the power of the curse, the dark energy will stimulate the user's flesh, causing it to burst out with power far beyond its normal state.

Increasing the attack power can quickly restore the wielder's injuries, but this process will accelerate the erosion of the wielder's body and mind by the dark energy.

Roger let out a loud shout, his physical fitness had almost doubled under the erosion of dark energy!

His cheeks were covered with blood like spider's webs, his pupils were almost pitch black, and the blood vessels around his eyes were about to crack, making him look like a demon crawling out of the abyss.

"This weapon?" Bedwell was shocked.

The killing intent in Roger's chest burst out like substance, and the power in his body exploded and pressed down violently.

"In the castle, you play with all of us between applause, and let us put on a show according to the script you wrote."

Pushed by the force of rage, Bedwell's body retreated, and Roger was like a rainbow.

"Now I have my story for you too."

After a brief build-up, Roger roared.

【Qianjun】

Rumble!

As if hit by a cannonball, Bedwell flew more than ten meters away, and smashed into the lake in the distance with a loud bang.

The water rippled, and the red water spread out like blood.

Roger let out a sigh.

Black smoke between the mouth and nose.

"The course of the story doesn't matter."

"It's the ending that matters."

"I've got 15 ways to die for you......"

"Please choose one!"

()

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