Release that Witch


Release that Witch Chapter 1084

The battle became fiercer as the enemy continued to attack.

With a whoosh, a dozen stone pillars plunged from above. Thick ashes and smoke, mixed with the Red Mist, permeated the air and overspread the pale moon. Chipped stones splattered against the ground, forcing people to bow their heads. The whole situation turned into a sort of doomsday disaster. One stone pillar landed right on one of the iron cases. The shockwaves sent Danny flying across the battlefield. By the time he realized what had happened, he had laid in a heap on the ground.

"Aargh... damn it," Danny muttered between his coughs, feeling a pain lance through his chest. Meanwhile, he also tasted blood in his mouth. "Malt, are... are you OK?"

"I'm fine," Malt replied next to him anxiously, "but you are hurt!"

"I've probably got a broken rib," said Danny through his teeth, wincing. "It's not a big deal though. As long as I can still pull the trigger, I can continue to fight..."

He fumbled in the darkness for his gun frantically, a little panic until he finally found it.

"No, you should run, as fast as you can!" Malt implored.

Danny struggled to draw himself up and leaned against a dented iron case behind him.

It almost cost him all his strength.

He saw a towering black stone pillar loom against the cloud of Red Mist, about to open.

Danny raised his gun slowly and placed it on his shoulder while using his knee to stabilize the weapon. Since the target was just ten meters away, he did not think he would miss it.

"Stop! That's enough! Why don't you leave?"

Danny could hear Malt scream. He also wanted to ask himself the same question.

"Because I don't want to leave the battlefield and I don't want to lose you..."

The moment he fired, the slab collapsed.

He hit it.

Before the demon tore the sac open, the bullet had penetrated his forehead.

This time, however, the demon did not fell flat on its face.

It walked out of the pillar while shaking what remained of the sac off his body and stopped before Danny.

It was an armored demon much larger than a Mad Demon. As it drew itself to its full, magnificent height, it cast Danny into a long shadow that spread across the sky. In the utter darkness, Danny could only see its red eyes glinting maliciously.

Danny reloaded the gun and pulled the trigger again.

With a clink, sparks flew off the demon's chest and pale blue waves rippled across its body.

The demon fixed Danny with a cool stare and slouched toward him.

It did not draw out its weapon but continue to shuffle toward him with a supercilious look on its face.

Danny repeated the same action mechanically. He reloaded the gun and fired, but his bullets seemed to have lost their magic touch.

"No..." Malt broke into a sob in despair.

Upon the fourth shot, dazzling flames suddenly erupted from the demon's chest.


With an earsplitting crash, the demon was sent flying across the field and straight into an iron case.

Danny stood transfixed on the ground, watching a tendril of smoke escape from the muzzle in amazement.

Then he saw a man in front of him.

"Run, mortal," said the man as he turned around. "This is not something you can handle. We'll take over from here."

The man was carrying a rifle with a huge caliber, the bullets around his waist as thick as his wrist. Apparently, they were not something a normal man could carry. Further, the man was plastered with the same armor the demon was wearing.

"Special Unit of Strategies and Tactics".

Those were the words that came to Danny's mind at that moment.

This unit had become the most mysterious unit of the First Army since their debut during the first expedition. They never attended their training sessions, so nobody knew exactly how many of them there were and where they were stationed. The only thing he knew about them was that they were all picked by His Majesty himself and were considered as the most powerful troops in Neverwinter.


The demon crawled out of the overturned iron case and hollered angrily. It finally changed its haughty attitude and reached for the giant double-edged sword on its back.

"Hmm, a Senior Demon promoted from Lord of Hell? No wonder you have such a strong magic reaction," the man said to the demon as much as he said to himself as he dashed toward his enemy fearlessly. "We've been waiting for this moment for a long time!"

Several soldiers armored in the same fashion followed at his heels. As the group joined the battle, the situation gradually changed. Despite their heavy load, they moved and walked much faster than a regular soldier. As they slowly cornered the enemy, their attack turned more brutal and even savage. After they exhausted their ammunition, instead of using bunkers, they switched to bayonets and started to stab the enemy ferociously.

The demon was actually swifter than it appeared. However, surrounded by the four raging warriors who were apparently out of their minds, it finally yielded to its fate. Its blue ripples started to fade.

No wonder they were picked by the king.

Yet this was also Danny's battlefield.

Danny would never back off unless he died.

He forced himself to sit up, supported his gun with his own body and aimed it at the battlefield.

When he shot down a Mad Demon that attempted to launch a surprise attack at the Special Unit of Strategies and Tactics from behind, the warrior turned around and cast him a glance from a distance.

Danny pulled open the bolt and took a sharp intake of the air saturated with the smell of gunpowder in a way an addict inhaled heroin. It was a mixed feeling of pain and satisfaction.

"Doesn't it feel good, Malt?"


"Darn! What the hell is the Artillery Battalion doing?"

"Can't they stop those raining stone needles?"

"I hope they didn't send newbies to the front."

Down the trenches in the outer ring of the encampment, some soldiers were complaining behind shields, and Fishball was one of them. Although he was a member of the anti-aircraft machine gun squad, he did not think it a good idea to operate the machine guns when their enemy happened to be something more grisly than flying Devilbeasts.

After they had been wakened up, they had immediately manned the defensive line according to the predetermined procedure. They soon bombarded a few demons with crossfire and mortars on their way, so the defensive line remained intact. The soldiers on duty were confused as to who they were killing next. When everybody thought their mission would be exterminating loose invaders, they received a new order from their superior, who instructed them not to leave the trenches under any circumstances whilst preparing themselves for a fight against their real enemy.

A group of demons was coming to attack the campsite from both the east and the south. They were the main force of the enemy.

Fish Ball thought of the expedition that had taken place a few months ago, where swarms of demons had sprinted toward them at a tremendous speed. It was a chilling scene to behold. Fortunately, the First Army had got themselves well prepared. Their gunfire had stopped the demons somewhere 200 meters away from the encampment.

Yet now, there were no fortified blockhouses around the defensive line, and artillery reinforcements had yet to show up. Every now and then, a blast cracked like a whip through the air above them. As they could practically see nothing through the inky darkness, Fish Ball was not sure whether they would be as lucky as the last time.

"They're coming!" Suddenly, someone yelled. "They are 1,500 meters away from us. Everybody, stay alert!"

"1,500 meters? We can barely see anything within 200 meters!" Fish Ball complained within himself. He knew the order was given by the witch who possessed the Eye of Magic. However, as a soldier, he must obey orders. Under no circumstances could he desert his post. Fish Ball clenched his teeth, ready to fire.

Just at that moment, the train let out a long shrill whistle in the distance!


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