High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1429 - 176: Return of the Swallow

Chapter 1429: Chapter 176: Return of the Swallow

A searing fireball passed through the hall with a deep whoosh.

From an angle, three to five crystal-clear ice spears howled out, heavily piercing the fireball.

The collision of ice and fire, the instantaneous vaporization and explosion, set off a violent stream of air in midair that spread in all directions. But soon, this violent air stream was drowned out by the surrounding even stronger auras.

And there stood the leader of the Hunting Team, that burly male warlock, right in the center of what seemed like an 18th-grade storm.

Underneath his feet, those usually soft plush carpets now reached out with ropes chasing life, trying hard to restrain this wild tyrannosaurus, but to little effect.

Bang, bang, bang!

The sound of the ropes snapping was very faint amid the roar of the Mechanism Amulet Cannon cradled in a dwarf’s arms. But even faint as it was, those ropes caused certain obstructions for the leader of the Hunting Team, making every step he took as laborious as if moving through mud.

"Reload!" the dwarf yelled, "Buy me some time!"

Before his words faded, the roaring of the Mechanism Amulet Cannon abruptly ceased.

Several gaunt, skin-and-bones Old Witch Demons, making use of the lull in the barrage, leapt quickly between coffee tables and sofas, quite like a group of old mountain monkeys.

In the blink of an eye, they had broken through the Hunting Team’s defensive barrier and reached several young Hunters.

Then, they tore off their large cloaks, revealing their skinny, bony bodies.

"Ga ga ga ga!"

The cackling of the Old Witch Demons was as unpleasant as the cawing of ravens, their gazes filled with greed as they looked at the young Hunters, much like hungry tigers eyeing a lost lamb or wolves encircling an injured doe.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

The rush of Old Witch Demons simultaneously opened their gaping mouths, the howling wind swept through the entire hall, clearing the cold air of ice spears, the glow of molten lava, and the flickering electric orbs, swallowing them whole.

Flooded with abundant Magic Power, those gaunt Old Witch Demons suddenly inflated like water-filled balloons, their wrinkled old skin stretching out and becoming smooth and firm. They stood there bare-chested, muscles rippling like iron, their physique towering like Mount Tai, their outstretched palms like the talons of a hawk, glinting coldly as they reached for the young Wizards in the field.

Swoosh, swoosh!

A few streaks of blade light emerged within the chill gleam of those talons, slashing out without any order. But unexpectedly, the Old Witch Demons promptly summoned several rock shields, blocking them before the blade light.

The shattered stones flew in all directions like sea spray hitting rocks, carrying a huge kinetic energy. The Witch Demons that had stormed into the Hunting Array were blinded by the flying debris, squinting their eyes.

It was at that moment.

A fist, exuding a faintly dark glow, had already burst through the murky and tumultuous air, slamming right into the faces of those Old Witch Demons.

It seemed like just one punch, but it appeared simultaneously in front of all the Witch Demons.

One of the Witch Demons who had intruded into the Hunting Array watched wide-eyed as the aura swirling around the fist became darker and larger, until at last, like a curtain, it shrouded the entire world. Even indoors, it felt like a sense of lightlessness of the sun and moon, a sensation of the world turning upside down.

It let out a piercing scream, desperately gathered strength, and doubled its hands to meet that slamming fist.

"Overturning Sky Seal!"

It was only then that the deep roar of the burly male Warlock reached its ears, but it was already too late.

That punch came crashing down like Mount Tai being uprooted by a Wild Giant and smashed downwards. The moment the Witch Demon’s hands caught it, a dull roar of thunder resonated in the hall.

And after the thunder, came the downpour.

Crackle, snap!

The Witch Demon’s fists, arms, shoulders, and the joints from top to bottom crackled and snapped. Crushed flesh wrapped around that black fist, undiminished in speed, slammed heavily into the chest of the Old Witch Demon, followed by a series of rapid popping sounds like a string of bursting firecrackers.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Several torn skin sacks flew out from the Hunting Array and heavily hit the filthy walls. On the walls, images of Demons with red glimmers in their eyes cackled and swarmed over, dragging those torn ’sacks’ into the deep images.

It wasn’t until this moment that the gravel shattered by another young Hunter slowly fell to the ground.

The dust settled.

Revealing the glistening torso of the muscular Hunting Team Leader.

"Pah!" He spat a thick gob of saliva on the ground: "A bunch of old farts dare to challenge me in a fistfight... Haven’t they heard ’nothing beats the fist of youth’?!"

Under the cloak discarded by the Hunting Team Leader, a small head peeked out, revealing a Little Witch’s head.

Her round eyes wide, she looked left and right, and though her body was still shivering, her voice was a lot braver than her body: "Are we still fighting? Are we still fighting?!"

"Fight my ass!" The Hunting Team Leader grumbled with a grimace, turning back and shouting: "Originally I just wanted to catch Ulrich, that old ghost, off guard, but I’ve hit a wall... Prepare to run!"

"Okay!" The little girl immediately perked up.

"Only..." The Hunting Team Leader tightened his grip on his knuckle-dusters, his eyes shone as he gazed towards the dark wall at the end of the room: "We’ve come all this way, we should at least do something."

On the dark wall, those decorated and withered skulls seemed to have heard his voice.

Gently swaying amidst the chill.

...

...

Sir Ulysses opened his eyes, looking somewhat confused.

He turned his head and glanced at the Captain of the Mist Ship.

Mr. Captain was bowing his head, as if contemplating the philosophy of Demon life, with no intention whatsoever of making eye contact with the Old Witch Demon. The Old Witch Demon shifted his gaze to the Female Demon beside him, and Nikita seemed to have noticed something, immediately putting on a pleasing smile.

Sir Ulysses shook his head and withdrew his gaze.

Neither the Dwarves’ randomly shooting Mechanism Amulet Cannons, the Witch’s rampant Thunder Curse, the young Hunters’ glint of knives, nor the Hunting Team Leader’s punch that tore the air and the hall in total disarray, were within Sir Ulysses’s line of sight.

Or, to be more precise, none of what was happening was in the sightline of the two Great Demons.

In their view, behind every accident lay a series of inevitabilities. The rash Hunting team in front of them was nothing but minor bugs obstructing their view. Their choosing to appear here meant there surely was a much larger Blackhand lurking behind them.

The target of that Blackhand might be the Mist Captain, or perhaps The Duke himself.

The room was bustling.

The eyes of the Great Demons, however, had long since moved beyond this Chaos, settling on something much deeper.

Despite Sir Ulysses’s vast Divine Thought sweeping the Land of Desolation numerous times, despite his skinny fingers breaking hundreds of Divination Tokens, the area behind these young Hunters remained deathly quiet.

There wasn’t the dangerous situation he’d imagined, with the Mage Alliance’s heavy forces encircling them or certain Big Wizards conspiring to kill. Nor did he perceive any involvement from the Mist Captain or other Four Seas Great Demons in this matter.

Could it really just be a coincidence?

Just then, a light buzzing sounded next to the Old Witch Demon’s ear:

"Secret Technique·Swallow Return!"

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