The three of them took turns engaging with the Sheep-Horned Demon in a relay fashion.
Finally, at the very moment contact ended, the Sheep-Horned Demon was dead.
If this kind of demon were among ordinary humans, even in a professional army, it would cause at least dozens of casualties before being skewered like a porcupine by spears and pikes.
Soldiers with pikes and spears would combine their strength to pin it down, restricting its movement, while crossbowmen from afar would shower it with several volleys of silver-tipped arrows until it was a tattered rag.
Yet in the continuous attack from Lann, Geralt, and Rong Buqiu, it was merely a matter of a brief encounter.
"Phew~ This is probably the fastest I've ever completed a task."
Geralt withdrew his silver sword from the chest of the Sheep-Horned Demon, accompanied by a 'clatter' as metal grinded against bone.
"From sighting it to finishing it... was it even a minute?"
