CHAPTER 54: 54. CHEAP COURAGE

The only thing Lann could slightly appreciate about the cannibals was their utter savagery.

It seemed they themselves knew that their crimes belonged to the category of unforgivable in any civilized world.

So the cannibals, forced into direct confrontation, always approached with a murderous intent that bordered on madness.

Their expression was not much different from the armed fanatics of the Eternal Flame Faction.

They were fearless, for death was not considered a bad outcome in their prediction of their own fate.

Even if their weapons were crude, it didn’t stop them from charging forward.

No weapons? Then hands! Then teeth!

Since they started eating humans, they no longer hesitated to kill like beasts or monsters.

Since they ate humans, then they were monsters!

Fueled by this peculiar morale, even if the cannibals’ equipment was not as good as the lowest-ranking soldiers under Viserad,

if they were to confront each other, those soldiers who at most moonlighted as bandits would probably end up with their bones picked clean.

"Go to hell!"

With a shout, the cannibals charged over in a slightly adjusted formation.

The leader brandished a wooden club wrapped with ropes and studded with nails.

That fierce posture seemed as though he was willing to shatter his knuckles to tear open the heavy armor and bite Lann inside to death!

Adrenaline surged, the eyes bloodshot with excitement.

While charging with weapons in hand, their mouths opened wide enough to discomfort, emitting a rampaging war cry.

But if "ferocity" alone could solve everything... then what was "technique" needed for?

The young man’s cat-like eyes reflected the vicious attackers without a ripple.

Lann’s feet, even while moving, maintained the T-step for flexible maneuverability and stable support anytime.

This was basic footwork in swordsmanship.

The wooden club with bits of flesh clinging to its nails smashed down towards him.

The front foot stayed steady, while the back foot lightly touched the ground, causing his whole body to pivot ninety degrees.

The impact area, from a wide frontal body, instantly turned into a narrow side.

With just a slight head raise, the club brushed past his face.

"Missed... Missed it!"

The lead cannibal’s expression quickly shifted from "ferocious" to "fearful."

Through excellent dynamic vision, this change seemed so absurd it was almost laughable.

"You didn’t brush your teeth, scum."

"Shing!"

A cold silver gleam arced from bottom to top.

The Bear School Steel Sword, with its tip held downwards, had already awaited the opponent’s swinging arm’s path.

If the opponent possessed the technique to retract force after missing, he wouldn’t be mingling here.

The empty swinging arm collided onto the sword blade.

This resulted in Lann, even with normal sword speed slashing upwards, making a crisp "snap" sound.

The opponent’s entire arm flew off.

The crisp sound was the steel slicing through bone.

Thick blood spurted from the severed stump, spraying like a jet.

The flow rate even formed a blood mist in the air!

"You’re too tense, fool."

The more tense, the faster the heartbeat, and the faster the blood flow.

Lann shifted sideways, avoiding the dirty creature falling onto him.

The second cannibal had already lunged forward.

Just as Lann predicted—this group couldn’t even manage to arrive simultaneously and attack after a charge.

Eating humans seems to have ruined their minds.

The second cannibal held a Velen Longsword, poised at his chest, ready to stab it at Lann’s torso.

His mouth still drooling, like a predatory vicious dog.

Lann raised an eyebrow lightly.

This guy seemed to have some brains.

To ensure piercing the heavy armor, he pressed the counterweight ball at the sword hilt against his belly.

Preventing the recoil from knocking the hilt out of hand when piercing heavy armor.

"But you shortened the attack distance, still a fool!"

With the Longsword held close to his body, the attack distance fell short by an entire arm.

The rising Bear School Steel Sword didn’t even assume a guard posture.

Simply adjusted the grip slightly, and then... switched to a downstroke!

Somehow, ever since wielding the two swords of the Bear School, Lann took an extraordinary liking to the Rage Strike Downstroke move.

With weight shifting within his body, the Rage Strike Downstroke in Bear School Swordsmanship wrenched the body open to an exaggerated extent.

Like using each vertebral joint as a power unit.

Then, at the fastest sword tip area, even air must be torn by steel!

As if it weren’t a sword, but a steel-made whip!

The "woo-woo" sound brought an ominous feeling to those around!

Just like the first deceased, the sword blade split into the opponent’s neck base and shoulder, creating a huge gash!

But since he didn’t even block, the cannibal was directly pressured by the sword blade, dropping to his knees with a "thud."

Amidst the "zing-zing" sound of bone scraps grinding against steel, Lann once again extracted the sword from human flesh.

The cannibal who lost an arm now curled up on the ground, clutching the severed stump, screaming in agony. His voice strained, veins bulging as if pulling the vocal cords out.

The cannibal whose neck was gashed rolled and twisted on the ground without purpose, like a severed worm.

The originally flat soil and stone ground became chaotic and slimy under the dying struggles of human flesh.

The cannibals’ fearless, even mad shouts stopped.

Not only did the shouts cease, but the already advancing steps hesitated and retreated.

Beneath Lann’s unwavering cat-like eyes, these "monsters" capable of devouring human flesh, skinning people alive... cowered.

The courage of criminals came from "madness," not "resolve."

Their cheap courage was akin to morning dew on leaves: scattering under sunlight, disappearing without a trace.

The blood vessels in their eyes began to recede, and fear spread among them.

They were human-eating "monsters," but the one who came to kill them... was a demon hunter that hunted monsters!

"No... this is wrong... this is wrong!"

This was self-deceptive mumbling.

The number of enemies was "one," even with heavy armor, he couldn’t have slaughtered three people so cleanly!

No... those three didn’t even touch his outer layer! Whether with or without armor made no difference to him!

How could this be? How could such... a thing happen?!

Most people of this era hadn’t seen much of the world, the cannibals were the same.

Like frogs in a well, they naively thought the world’s limit was just their little plot of land.

The first deserter appeared, his pupils dull.

He dashed into the dense forest, letting the sharp branches whip his body, not daring to look back.

Fear was contagious.

The remaining three swallowed nervously, glanced at each other, then immediately dropped their weapons and ran panicked in different directions.

While they fled, Lann picked up a piece of animal skin jacket from the ground, wiping his sword.