Turnbull’s words still seem to echo in my ears:

[I will let you know, kid... getting old is no reason... I will let you know who your opponent is... I will let you know who can stand in the end...]

Belicia smiled unsurprisingly.

"Then what? You stood up and bit the source blood from his hand?"

Lausanne II kept staring at the woman for a long, long time.

"Turnbull thinks he's got me."

The killer said quietly:

"But he forgot about the other person."

Lausanne II narrowed his eyes and breathed quickly.

At that moment, the killer seemed to hear the gurgling rain that night again.

【Hey, uncle, that’s my sword.】

He seemed to see Old Turnbull holding the strange black sword that did not belong to him again. He turned back in disbelief and happened to see that scene:

With his face covered in blood and his body covered with black sword bruises, he climbed up weakly and with difficulty from the muddy and putrid ditch of the abandoned house filled with dead bodies.

He leaned on the sword of Lausanne II - the sword that should have been embedded in his skull. He stood up again unsteadily but still unstoppably.

[This Lausanne II’s sword is not very handy.]

Just like Black Sword had done countless times when he was chasing him.

Belicia was thoughtful, showing a little surprise.

"Turnbull and Blacksword, they said something I didn't understand."

[I told you, little bastard, I have been with those traitors in the Tower of Termination... The effect of the sin of the Hell River is not to make you unable to die, but to make it impossible for you to live... Why can't you be like you?

Like my stupid companions, how about early death and early relief?】

Lausanne II gritted his teeth to resist the severe pain from the wound that penetrated into his bone marrow.

Or the phantom pain of memories.

[Because they don't allow me to die...at least not so early...can't...just die...meaninglessly...]

"It seems that they are old acquaintances. They knew each other when Turnbull was still working as a mercenary in the desert and fought through life and death in a certain hundred-man regiment."

Lausanne II sneered, trying to numb the pain with laughter.

"But they fell through."

So the bloody battle resumed.

One old and one strong.

The Brotherhood and the Blood Bottle Gang.

The showdown between past and tomorrow.

Recalling this battle, Lausanne II's eyes flashed.

As a long-established master, Turnbull is very experienced.

But all he has left is Lao Chi.

As the loser at the end of the crossbow, Black Sword is resolute and decisive.

Because all he has left is determination.

"Both of them lost," Lausanne II recounted the past, recounting the miracles he had witnessed, "but in the end, the Black Sword completed his work."

Under Belicia's surprised eyes, the killer spoke calmly.

The black sword pierced Turnbull's chest in a manner that was almost fatal.

To end the confrontation that ended in an anticlimactic manner.

Having said this, Lausanne II suddenly sneered.

The laughter is faint, heavy and sad,

"Perhaps the sword of the black sword struck the right place... After Turnbull fell, he seemed to wake up for a moment and realized something. He laughed."

Lausanne II's smile slowly disappeared.

[I understand... you are right, kid, I shouldn't... shouldn't think I can play their games...]

In Belicia's increasingly confused expression, the killer's eyes returned to deathly silence.

"On his deathbed, old Turnbull crawled to my side and used up his last strength."

[Live on, child, see clearly the ugly face of this world...live on...]

"He stuffed the original blood... into my wound."

Lausanne II finished speaking softly.

As his words fell, the once all-powerful former overlord of the Blood Bottle Gang also fell silently in the story.

"he?"

After a long while, Belicia recovered from her disbelief and asked loudly.

"Impossible," the woman said with surprise on her face, "that insidious old bastard who is afraid of death, he? He gave his source blood and the only chance of escape to you? You?"

Lausanne II did not answer the other party's doubts. He just took a deep breath and struggled to speak out amid endless contradictions and confusion.

"that's all……"

Lausanne II's eyes were cold.

"With the second chance you gave me..."

This is also the second chance given by Turnbull.

He gave in.

In the freezing rain, surrender to fate.

"I cheated and got back on my feet."

The source blood melts when it meets blood, and they spread in his blood vessels, grow in his tissues, transport energy, and make up for deficiencies.

From the dying body, arouse strong energy and blood, full of vitality.

They allowed him to ignore the call of the Hell River Ferryman, completely escape dangerous and fatal injuries, and return to his prime again.

The living dead, flesh and bones.

Lausanne II gritted his teeth and said:

"I will face the Black Sword again."

Restart the war.

He was distracted, as if Black Sword's sad and helpless words were echoing in his ears again:

[Come on, killer, let’s fight and complete our unfinished business in front of your gang leader.]

[No matter what these senseless fights and killings are for, what is their meaning...]

【This is the only thing people like us can do for the deceased.】

"This time, he became stronger, right?"

Belicia crossed her arms with an indifferent expression.

Lausanne II looked blankly.

"There are rumors that every time he dies, the ancient magic sword will reward him and give him more power," Belicia turned her head and snorted disdainfully, "It's really unfair."

Every time I die...

Ancient magic sword?

More power?

"Yes, it's the strange sword that gave him this nickname... I believe you must be deeply impressed... Many people have tried to use it over the years, and it is said that some have succeeded... But what happened..."

Lausanne II paused.

His expression was dazed, and he recalled the destined enemy in his second life.

Recall every confrontation and every detail.

Black sword.

A mediocre and weak black sword.

The scarred black sword.

The crumbling black sword.

The black sword at the end of the crossbow.
To be continued...