In the pitch-black tent, Prajna looked expressionlessly at the book on the table, its pages rapidly flipping.
It seemed like she saw something interesting, as a faint smile curled on her lips.
At this time, Losa was being thrown against the mountain wall by a Demon Hunter's Alder Rune.
He rubbed his shoulder as he got down from above, looking at the stone wall with a human-shaped imprint, and rubbed his shoulder helplessly: "Geralt, that move of yours is too much, we agreed it was just swordsmanship sparring. If you keep this up, I'll breathe Dragon Breath at you."
Something's not right, definitely not.
The strength of these Demon Hunters is too high. Even if they are all mutated beings far surpassing ordinary human combat power, it shouldn't be this ridiculous.
And their Seals, clearly auxiliary tools in the original writings, are being played so skillfully in their hands.
