A rather comical scene appeared.

The puppet held the sword in its right hand and kept slashing at me, but the short sword was too short to reach, and it kept spinning in a hurry.

I pressed hard, holding the hilt of the sword tightly with both hands, for fear that one of the swords would be lost if I didn't hold on to it, and as it rotated, my legs kept making a series of small steps.

One person and one monster rotated in place, and their movements were incrediblely coordinated, as if their partners who had worked together for many years on the skating rink were performing a 7,200-degree giant slalom.

After only a dozen turns, I couldn't stand it a little, and I felt that the food I had eaten before was piling up in my throat and eyes at the moment, and desperately surging out with the continuous centrifugal force.

I had to hold my tongue to the death of this stuff and not let it out, or it would be a horrible scene of vomit scattered like fireworks.

Although I have tried my best to suppress it, the power of the base of my tongue is limited.

Now I don't have time to look in the mirror, and if I allow, I think, my face must be blue.

Feeling that the content in my throat was about to be suppressed, I jerked my feet up and kicked on the puppet's legs, and my hands gripped the hilt of the sword hard, and slammed it hard.

Boom!

With a crisp sound, I flew out like a chain ball.

The rolling belt slid out more than ten meters away, and the momentum finally disappeared.

Covered in dirt, I got up from the ground, and I felt like my whole body was falling apart, and there was no place where I didn't hurt, and because I had just turned for too long, my steps were frivolous and I couldn't stand steadily.

At this moment, it was like practicing drunken boxing, staggering and staggering.

However, the puppet had no weakness in this regard, and after stopping its form, it rushed towards me in a daze, holding a short sword.

Standing less than a meter away from me, the helmet of the black hole looked at me as it stumbled, and then slowly raised its short sword, ready to deal a fatal blow to me who was dazed.

The arm slammed down, and the dagger slashed at my neck at breakneck speed.

At this critical moment, I could no longer hold back the protest of vomit in my throat, turned around, bent my waist, opened my mouth, and threw up all over the ground.

It's just that this turn, coincidentally, avoided the edge of the short sword.

The instant big vomit made my whole person refreshed, wiped my mouth, looked at the puppet who missed the sneak attack with cold eyes, snorted, and the painting style instantly became stiff: "It's just you, you still want to sneak attack me, laugh.. Oh slot! ”

I clutched my buttocks, as if it had been burned by fire, and jumped forward, reaching back to see a streak of blood sticking to it.

Unexpectedly, this thing actually stabbed my ass with his backhand!

Fortunately, it's not a chrysanthemum, otherwise the old man's festival will not be guaranteed!

Damn monsters, dare to sneak up on me!

Because of the pain and discomfort of the buttocks, I temporarily lost my combat effectiveness, covering my ass and jumping all over the hall, and the puppets were chasing all over the hall.

I was out of breath for a long time, I don't know if it was because I was bleeding too much and lost consciousness, or because my buttocks were numb because I had jumped for too long, but the wound on my buttocks didn't hurt anymore anyway.

Turning around, he glared at the menacing puppet, his eyes full of rage.

It has to be said that anger is a good catalyst.

Under the rage, I attacked violently, and the puppets I hit only had the ability to parry, but there was no room for maneuver.

Having gained the upper hand again, I started to wander again.

Specially pick its joints to chop, a sword can't be cut and then make up for a sword, no matter how hard he is steel, he can't bear my endless grinding.

With all my efforts, I finally heard the exciting sound of metal breaking, and the joints of its left arm were torn out by me, and under the action of the twisting and beating of its heavy body, the fracture continued to expand, and the whole forearm was cracked in half, like an iron chimney blown by the wind, hanging on its elbow, swaying back and forth with its body.

There is a door!

I was overjoyed, and I quickened my pace, and this time the position of the attack was changed to its right arm holding the sword.

There was another violent clanging sound, and the joint of its right arm finally showed signs of loosening, and the trajectory of the cut out also shifted from time to time, and sometimes when I dodged to the side, the direction of the blade might shift with the offset of the loose arm, and it did not slash against my chest, and scratched a shallow scar on the flat chest.

I was tormented by these occasional deviations, and the most effective way to do that was to remove his right arm as soon as possible.

Enduring the torture of making one or two shallow wounds from time to time, the knight's sword in his hand once again slashed the iron nail on the joint of the puppet's right arm.

The sky lived up to its wishes, and when my feet were soft and numb, the last iron nail on the puppet's right arm was also cut off by me, and with the swing of the heavy body, the empty right forearm slid down with a creak.

At this point, all of the puppet's arms have been abolished by me.

Next up are its legs.

I used the same method to remove his thick leg joints.

Eventually, the puppet lost its limbs and turned into a human stick.

I was so tired that I sat down on the ground, panting and wiping my sweat, and said, "Whew, I'm really tired of the baby, if I hadn't cut your soft underbelly, I really don't know what the result would have been!" ”

He knocked the breastplate of the puppet that had fallen to the side motionless with his sword, and sighed, "Pig iron, no wonder it's so hard." ”

Then he said to himself: "I don't know what will drop if I destroy it for a while, if nothing falls, it will be a bit of a loss."

Suddenly, my eyes caught sight of a puppet stump on the ground, and an idea popped into my head.

Standing up quickly, he collected the stumps of the puppets in one place, picked up the right forearm holding the sword, stretched out his right hand and measured it, and he could reach in.

I held my breath and pushed in inch by inch, raising my vigilance to the highest level, and if something suspicious happened, I would pull my hand out and throw this thing away.

However, the truth seems to be quite different from what I thought, the severed puppet stump is empty inside, and there are no hidden weapons.

With my fingers together, I tried to open my palms, and there was no obstruction except for the soft creaking sound between the knuckles.

I tried clenching my fist again, and there was no problem.

I was overjoyed, and without hesitation, I put on the forelimb of my left hand, so that both hands were protected, and even if I lost my weapon for a while, I had the confidence to take the blade empty-handed.

Come to think of it, after all this time in the dungeon, I didn't even have a decent set of armor other than a shabby cowhide jacket, cowhide trousers, and cowhide boots.

A sense of sadness welled up in my heart.