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   Chapter 112 Hope (Part One)

Lord Of Martial Arts By Meng Mian Characters: 7616

Updated: 2019-09-09 09:04

The twelve old witchers, who sat around the boiling blood pool, were shocked by the vast surge of power that exploded from Darren. They couldn't believe that the lad could release such power at a young age. They could only come up with one solution.

"Twelve. Send them out,"

came an order from a strong witcher, while still watching Darren's out-bursting power. They were all frantic but the strong witcher had to remain calm.

"Huh? Send them out? Should we let them go?" the one called Twelve anxiously asked, hoping he had just misheard things.

Hardly, his voice faded away when the blood pool bubbled and churned. The strong witcher's command lingered in his mind, making him tremble in fear.

At the sight of that situation, they had no choice but to do so. With full concentration, the eleven witchers quickly made up a phalanx with their hands raising up in complex gestures. Then streams of Witcher Power rushed out and formed a circle of light above the pool. On the other hand, Twelve was lost in fear, as he knew what would happen right now.

After a while, from the blood pool, a huge paw reached out instantly. As if it wanted to break through the Witcher Power hovering above. The devil had been suppressed in the pool for many years, but it always looked for a chance to revive. As the guarders of that pool, those witchers fulfilled their duties to suppress that devil under the pool, preventing it from getting away.

"Yes, Twelve. You heard me. Send them out," the strong witcher could only reply until then. Twelve couldn't suppress himself anymore.

"But I'll lose eighty percent of my Witcher Power if I do so. Then we can only suppress it for five hundred years at most," Twelve replied gravely. It was not that he didn't want to drain his power that much, but he worried that he would lose too much power to suppress the devil with his witcher brothers. He worried whether it was worthwhile to do so.

"It doesn't matter whether it's five hundred years or eight hundred years, Twelve. The devil will come back sooner or later. Send them out," said the strong witcher. Then together with the other ten witchers, he released more power to put that bloody paw down. Twelve was left hanging with the strong witcher's words.


A lou

into a fiend didn't annoy the powerful witcher but pleased him. He wanted to know the reasons.

"Sir, allow me to ask. I want to know why," Darren said hesitantly. Curiosity sparked his mind upon witnessing Twelve's unusual reaction.

Twelve nodded, as he already knew what Darren wanted to know. Then he waved one of his sleeves to transmit some pictures and memories into Darren's brain. Perhaps the power of Twelve was too strong, Darren didn't feel any pain this time. Memories transmitted into Darren's mind flashed simultaneously.

A moment later, Darren understood everything in just a snap, even with no words to explain. Twelve was indeed a powerful witcher.

What Darren saw was the history where creatures were dying out gradually. It was a war of survival of the fittest. During the war that had lasted for thousands of years, the human race had been on the verge of extinction. Trapped by that situation, some of the stronger survivors then caught some fiends to study their powerful bloodlines. And they finally determined to ask witchers to help them assimilate those fiends' bloodlines so that they could become as powerful as the fiends. Actually, those people had no choice but to use that way to survive.

If their experiments succeeded in that time, no one could guarantee that Hiram the Great would not apply this method. It was their only hope to survive.

However, the experiments of assimilation failed in the end. Every method they knew was used back then, but it was all in vain.

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