The Hypocritical Holy Knight 115 Part 1

After saying those words, the blood elf withdrew the blood color from his eyes, reached out to pick up his coat and sword, and walked towards the door curtain while putting them on.

When he lifted the curtain of the tent, he had already tidied up his clothes and calmed his expression, fully restoring the appearance a Holy Knight captain should have.

The Holy Knight guarding the door saw him suddenly come out and hurriedly saluted him, "Captain, do you have any orders?"

The Holy Knight captain shook his head slightly, his footsteps not stopping, and briefly ordered him, "Immediately dispatch more personnel to the Holy Son's location."

"Yes, sir!"

Although he didn't understand what had happened, due to absolute obedience, the Holy Knight still immediately executed Ambrose's order.

In the quiet deep night, only the cold metallic sounds of Holy Knights walking back and forth could be heard.

Demon beasts have a very strong instinct, and the demon beasts in the Eternal Night Forest are particularly fierce compared to other places. In order to prevent large-scale demon beast attacks, even such a powerful team with both the Holy Son of Light and the Holy Knight captain did not dare to use light magic to illuminate here in the deep night.

Therefore, the bishops spared no effort to bless each Holy Knight with night vision magic, allowing them to see every movement clearly in the darkness, to ensure normal night patrols.

So the entire camp had no light at all.

Ambrose passed through the Holy Knight team patrolling between the tents, passed through the defensive formation outside the tents, and quickly walked into the deeper darkness.

His nostrils twitched slightly, capturing a faint residual scent in the air, and a fleeting dark red light flashed in his pupils that were especially round in the night.

Unfortunately, that sneaky thing ran faster than he thought, and now there was no trace of it.

Actually, if he really wanted to chase, it wasn't impossible to catch up, but Cecil was still waiting for him in the tent, and he couldn't waste too much time on this matter.

His footsteps gradually slowed down. In front of a very shallow footprint, he half-squatted down, picked up a small piece of fishy-smelling soil from the ground with his fingertips, and sniffed it near his nostrils. The originally white gloves were stained with an eye-catching dirty black by the filthy soil.

This is... the smell of a beastman?

Ambrose's brows reflexively furrowed even tighter.

It is well known that the race the elven race despises the most on the entire Delan continent is the rude and uncivilized beastman race, to the point of having a conditioned reflex of being displeased upon smelling the scent of a beastman.

Even though he was a blood elf with very different living habits from ordinary elves, the disgust towards the beastman race seemed to be a commonality of all elves, and even he was no exception.

Suppressing the disgust that welled up in his heart, Ambrose carefully analyzed the information obtained from the soil.

Based on the residual scent, the one who infiltrated the tent tonight should be a beastman with considerable strength, but the scent was slightly mixed, indicating that he had other companions, just not acting together tonight.

So they came prepared?

Interesting, a group of powerful beastmen sneaking into the tent of the Church of Light in the middle of the night, definitely not with any good intentions.

He rubbed off the soil on his fingertips, got up from the ground, used a cleaning spell to thoroughly clean the black stains on his gloves, and then turned back.

After returning to the camp, he summoned the two Iron Cavalry Captains who had come along for the mission this time, and ordered with a stern expression, "There are traces of beastmen, strengthen the alert."

Surprise appeared in the eyes of the two Iron Cavalry Captains at the same time, "But the formation was not triggered."

Because the environment they were in this time was particularly dangerous, the outer formation of the camp was a high-level defensive formation that the Holy Son of Light and the bishops spent a full two hours setting up together, capable of detecting traces of biological activity within a hundred meters.

If a beastman approached, the formation couldn't possibly not give a warning.

Unless—

This beastman's strength was so great that he could come and go freely within the high-level defensive formation.

Ambrose shook his head, confirming their guess, "This beastman is very strong. I have already set up an emergency defensive formation outside the original formation. Strengthen the alert tonight and ask the Holy Son to reinforce the formation tomorrow."

The two Iron Cavalry Captains did not raise any objections to his decision and went to rearrange the personnel.

Ambrose lightly glanced at the busy Holy Knights, turned around and walked towards the tent belonging to him and the Holy Son of Light.

Just as he was about to lift the tent flap, his gaze fell on his outstretched hand. He paused for a moment, then decisively took off his white gloves and completely destroyed them with a devouring spell before entering the tent.

— Even though he had already thoroughly cleaned them with a cleaning spell, he still felt that there was a lingering stench of beastmen on them that couldn't be dispelled.

This kind of filthy stench, it was better not to bring it into his and Cecil's tent.

The Holy Son of Light, who had been hastily left on the table by him, had already transferred positions and obediently climbed onto the low bed, his whole body sinking into the soft bedding. Hearing the sound of his return, he opened his slightly moist black eyes.

He sat up from the bedding, propping himself up with his arms, and asked the person who came, "Did something break in?"

Ambrose took off his coat and sword again, sat on the bed, his eyes returning to a blood red, and answered concisely, "There was the smell of a beastman, very strong."

Hearing the word "beastman", the bit of sleepiness in He Yan's mind instantly vanished without a trace, and he couldn't help but blurt out, "Beastman?"

The Pope was done for, how did the beastman race appear again?

What did this mean, did they want to continue the transaction?

After all, for a beastman that Ambrose could describe as "very strong", the probability of it being that beastman chieftain was infinitely high this time.

After all, the beastman race was a race that respected strength, without exception, every generation's beastman chieftain was the most powerful beastman at the time.

Seeing the Holy Son of Light's suddenly wide, round black eyes, the blood elf couldn't help but raise his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth pulling up, and a cold snort escaped his throat.

He knew this little mouse was still hiding many things from him.

Sure enough, he exposed one thing so quickly.

The Holy Son of Light also seemed to realize his own impropriety. He casually concealed the expression on his face and asked the blood elf, "Have you seen that beastman?"

Although the beastman chieftain was powerful, he also had the common problem of beastmen - a dull brain.

This could be clearly seen from the original trajectory, where the beastman chieftain was severely injured by Cecil's holy light magic, yet still dared to find the Pope to "settle the score". Although his strength was so great that the Pope was wary of him, in terms of brains, ten beastman chieftains added together could not match one Pope.

If the Pope had not been overthrown, this beastman chieftain should have been killed by the Pope. The Pope, whether in the original trajectory or in the new track of destiny now, was defeated at the hands of the blood elf.

So according to this food chain, he had absolute confidence that the beastman chieftain would definitely not be a match for the blood elf.

"Only found a little trace," the blood elf stretched out his fingers with sharp nails, gently sliding on his cheek, "But, you seem to care a lot about the beastman?"

The bed under them was simply built with processed tree branches after arriving in the Eternal Night Forest, very low, only forty to fifty centimeters high.

The blood elf sat on the edge of the bed with one leg casually stretched out straight, the other leg slightly curled, in a very relaxed posture.

However, his eyes that had become deep and the ambiguous movements with a hint of threat revealed that he was not actually as relaxed as he appeared. He slightly opened his mouth, showing his fangs to the Holy Son of Light, "Dear, won't you explain?"

He Yan tilted his head, avoiding the blood elf's sharp nails, his long raven feathers trembling slightly, as if compromising, he said, "Actually it's just a guess..."

"It's okay," the blood elf brought his upper body closer to the Holy Son of Light, reached out his long arm and pressed it beside him, almost in a posture of holding him, seeming very understanding, "I can help you brainstorm."

He Yan organized his words and said vaguely, "There seems to be some deal between the Pope and the Beastman Clan, and this deal is related to something very important, perhaps related to the Goddess of Light."

Although he did not mention his role in this deal, with the blood elf's meticulous thinking, linking it to the "Blessing of Eros" in his body, he almost immediately filled in the details of this deal by seven or eight points.

After all, the lechery and lust of this generation's beastman chieftain was well-known. It is said that he was bisexual and especially liked boys who looked clean, pure, and between adolescence and youth.

The Holy Son of Light, who had just come of age, had an exquisite and holy face, and looked tender and delicious, wasn't he just the type that the beastman chieftain loved most?

Thinking of this, the blood elf snorted coldly in his heart, and his disgust for the beastman race reached an unprecedented level.

Then, with a "crack--" sound, the simple bed that he was pressing on couldn't bear the weight and cracked open.

He was silent for a moment, raised his hand to cast a repair spell, and quickly repaired that little crack. But he did not put down his hand, but directly hugged the waist of the Holy Son of Light in front of him, and pressed him tightly into his arms, lowering his head and kissing down.

There was a fire of anger and lingering fear in his heart, which almost instantly burned his reason to ashes, making him eagerly look for an outlet to vent it.

In the entanglement of lips and tongues, his sharp fangs brushed over the soft lips of the Holy Son of Light, almost immediately cutting a wound on them.

This was the first time that the blood elf had bitten through his lips while kissing.

The pain nerves on the lips seemed unusually sensitive. He Yan frowned and tried to push the blood elf away several times, but all failed due to the huge difference in physical strength.

He didn't know how long this kiss lasted. Anyway, before he was kissed to death, the blood elf finally let go of him.

He Yan opened his mouth and gasped for breath. His lips appeared extremely enchanting due to the intense friction and blood stains.