"Just because I am the seller." Midi smiled faintly.

The old leader who was responsible for cooperation had already stood on one side, as if Midi was the owner of the caravan. The best long sword "Blade of the Cracking Spirit" had also reached Midi's hand, and it was spinning back and forth with the skillful skills of the black-haired boy, like a windmill, dazzling.

"So what about the seller? After we negotiate, we will naturally decide who will buy..." Berrell said coldly.

"The so-called seller is not just buying and selling goods, but more importantly, he has to hand over the right things to the right people." Midie waved his hand directly, looked at the young elf, and then talked loudly, "I think Mr. Dilling, although he is only at level 19 and has not changed his job, but his quality and potential are indeed excellent. Whether in terms of level, the opportunity to change jobs, or personal abilities, they are the best destinations for this Blade of the Cracked Spirit, so I decided to sell him the weapon."

Dilling was extremely moved in an instant - as an ordinary patrol member, how could he ever receive such encouragement and praise? Moreover, the other party is a human being who is not close to him or her, but he protects himself on the weak side so much that he does not doubt Midie's remarks.

"What did you say?" Berrell laughed. "Dilling has great potential? Are you hilarious or are you kidding on purpose?"

"This is the fact, so I can use my eyesight as a top swordsman as a guarantee." Midie's voice was not loud, but it clearly penetrated into everyone present. In contrast, Berrell's laughter seemed a bit bluffy.

"You are just a human swordsman at level 20." The captain of the wind team was completely reprimanded.

"Or why not, let's try to talk?" Midie asked with a smile.

A level 26-level elf swordsman in the Wind Team who also used a long sword immediately came out and was about to speak up, but the next moment, Midi made a stop gesture to him.

"Just let's talk about you and I, how about it?" Midie looked at Berrel, so calm that the elf was chilling. "Don't tell me that the archer at level 28 doesn't even dare to deal with the swordsman at level 20."

Level 20, melee swordsman, human, every word among them is a provocation for Berell, who is a wandering archer.

"Very good, very good!" Berrel laughed angrily, "Human, let me teach you a lesson. At that time, you will suffer from lifelong disability, so don't have any resentment. But even if you resent, there will be no result, right?"

Midi raised her eyebrows, her tone was plain: "You have so much nonsense, come on."

There is no unnecessary words, nor any special venue. Just walk a little outside the village and you can treat it as a battlefield everywhere. Standing on an open land, the two of you are thirty meters apart, and there are countless elves watching the fun in the distance. This temporary exchange is ready.

Midi glanced at the crowd and soon saw that the average patrol member named Dilling was among them. If the elf was not there, the fight would be meaningless, but fortunately, the other party was obviously already aroused by his previous words, and his eyes were even more excited.

"The battle has begun, where are you still looking!" The captain of the Rapid Wind Team shouted in anger, instantly taking the arrow, opening the bow, filling the strings, tying the arrow, shooting!

Only a "swoosh" sound was heard, and a stream of light passed by, which was the roaming gunman's skill, a headshot.

The flying arrow was spinning and shot at Midi at an extremely fast speed, aiming at his shoulder. When the bow was drawn, many of the onlookers had already recognized the shooting technique, and a burst of exclamations suddenly sounded.

But the next moment, I heard a light sound of "Dang". Midi suddenly raised his long sword and blocked it lightly on his right shoulder. When the sword body shook, he directly slapped the arrow like a mosquito.

"What!" Berrel's smile stopped. He directly intercepted with his sword. Only experienced warriors can do this skill. Unexpectedly, Midi could do it.

Isn't this guy only level 20?

The elf's expression became solemn in an instant. In front of so many compatriots, he did not dare to make any mistakes. He immediately restrained his desire to underestimate the enemy just now. Then he raised the long bow in his hand, flew his right hand continuously, took the arrow, opened his sixth, and shot the arrow. The movements performed in one go repeated like flowing water. In an instant, dozens of arrow feathers attacked Midi from different directions like rain.

Wandering the skills of the archer and shooting randomly. Originally, this was a large-scale skill of a gunman, but for elves who are good at using bows, they can control the trajectory of each arrow, so that these arrow feathers with different shooting times can reach a finishing point at the same time, forming a dense encirclement.

For melee professions, this attack from the elf is undoubtedly fatal.

The sound of arrows roaring in his ears, and the rain of arrows was overwhelming in front of him. Midi still looked calm. For him who had been reborn, this formation was too small and could not cause any fluctuations in his heart. The desperate situation he experienced in his previous life had tempered his calm to cold state.

In the attacks coming from the sky, he was lightly wrong, and his whole body seemed to be sliding, not fast, but his movement was full of rhythm.

The long sword in his hand is lit from time to time, and every time he draws the sword, he will pick up an oncoming arrow feather.

In this way, each man and his sword, as if dancing in an inaudible beautiful melody, easily resolved the captain of the Wind Team's shooting attack with all his might. When the last arrow was avoided, Midi was still unharmed, but the ground where he was standing was full of arrow feathers penetrated the soil, or arrow feathers that were broken after being picked up and broken.

The ground was full of chaos, just like Berrell's mood. The elves watching the battle were even more stunned.

They have never seen anyone who can resist the shooting head-on, but they are either those knights in the human army wearing heavy armor who rely on shields and armor to take the attack. Or they are elemental mages with strong firepower who use range attacks to directly eliminate arrow rain in mid-air.

However, I have never seen anyone who flashed through the stroll in the garden like Midi.

"It's my turn." Midie said, and before he finished speaking, he rushed up like a gust of wind.

Berill, who turned around, was ready to continue attacking. However, before letting go of the bowstring, he was surprised to find that Midi could see through his attack intention! When the bow just pointed at it, the black-haired boy had simply and skillfully avoided the shooting line. In this way, Berill shot out and failed, but if he didn't shoot, he could not stop Midi's advance.

Shoot or not?

This entangled thought lingers in Berrell's mind, but Midie has arrived.

The black-haired boy was carrying a shiny long sword wrapped in a terrifying aura, like a tiger rushing down from the top of a snow-capped mountain, showing its sharp claws, blowing a terrible ice wind, and choosing someone to eat.

Berrell couldn't help but be shocked, and finally gave up shooting and began to retreat. The elf was shuttled through the dense forest he was familiar with, jumping up on the canopy with the help of the elasticity of the branches, using the dense leaves to cover the traces, and shooting out one arrow feather after another from the gaps of the green leaves.

However, even if Berell tried his best to use such advanced skills as air shooting, he still couldn't do anything to Midi.

No arrow could hit him. Most of the time, the elf's proud accurate head would not have any effect at all. In order to save time, Midi would not choose to dodge, but instead used the long sword in his hand to push away the elf's arrow feathers.

It's as simple as pulling apart the leaves.

The attack did not have the effect of interference, and soon, Midi once again narrowed the distance between him and the elves. This time, Berrell, who had been jumping in the forest for a long time, was no longer physically exhausted.

This is also a common problem for elves, which are poor physical strength.

"Where can you hide?" Midi shouted loudly, adding more psychological pressure to the other party. At the same time, he followed the sword and his speed increased sharply. The figure itself was like an arrow from the string, and rushed to Berrell in the blink of an eye.

Berrell couldn't help but be beating in his heart. Only by facing Midi could he realize the strength of the other party.

Although the skills used by the other party so far and the speed and power displayed are all at level 20, how many battles will it take to achieve this skill, experience, and this realm?

"It's just a mere human swordsman, how is this possible!" Berell felt a sense of powerlessness and frustration in front of Midie's offensive.

But this is also natural. One is just a flower that has shot wild beasts, monsters, and is in the forest of peace controlled by the witch of the fog. However, the other is a ghost swordsman who has experienced countless bloody battles in life and death and has been reborn with persistent beliefs.

The difference between the two is really a world of difference.

The next moment, Midi had already arrived beside Berrell. Before the wandering archer could use resistance skills such as stepping shooting, he had already flew forward, turned the long sword in his hand back, and the extremely hard hilt hit Berrell Yingting's nose bridge, instantly knocking his nose bridge, and blood gushed out, bringing two blood lines.

Berrell only felt a dark look in front of her eyes, and then she felt a dizzy turn. It turned out that Midi kicked her out again and kicked Berrell out directly.

The arrogant captain of the Rapid Squad flew out in the air like a kite with a broken string, then rolled to the ground, raising a piece of dust. His head was dizzy, his eyes were filled with stars, his delicate fine scales were covered with dirt, his handsome face twitched, and his body seemed to be dispersed, and he only sucked the air conditioner in every place!

"This sword will be sold to you." The winner was decided. Midi did not even look at Berrel again, and then walked directly to the crowd, towards Dillin, who was in great mood, and handed him the blade of the cracked soul.

Dillin looked at the long sword he had just obtained, feeling the coldness of the metal and the heavy body of the sword, and couldn't say a word.

The concentrated sights of the onlookers and the various whispers around him put a lot of pressure on him.

The angry gaze of Berrell who came from a distance and the wind squad made him tense.

But Dilling is neither panic nor fearful now. All he is thinking about is Midie's overwhelming attack just now.

This is the real powerful swordsman! The more Dilin thought about it, the more excited he became. Suddenly, he felt that the best sword he had been thinking about day and night in his hand seemed to be nothing.
Chapter completed!