Unknown Knight

Chapter 223 Battle of Life and Death

Seeing that she had split the shield with one axe and injured Bestur, Mathilde was overjoyed. Judging from her past experience, the opponent in such a dangerous situation would definitely keep a distance from her to avoid greater losses. She had already retracted her sweeping sword and was about to stab Bestur's body as he was about to retreat.

However, her experience and confidence harmed her. Instead of retreating, Bestur turned his head to avoid the long sword she stabbed at him and took half a step forward. At the same time, he stabbed upwards with the scimitar in his hand, cutting her wrist. The wound was so deep that the bone was visible. Immediately, she lost control of the long sword in her hand and it fell to the ground.

Subconsciously, Mathilde raised her injured right foot and kicked Bestur directly in the chest, making him retreat seven or eight steps and then sit down on the ground.

The kick hit Bestur right in the chest, causing him to feel chest tightness and almost suffocate. His face turned pale as paper, then red, and he almost vomited blood. If Mathilde's right foot had not been injured, his sternum would have been broken.

Looking at Mathilde again, she was looking at the blood gushing out of her wrist and the neatly broken tendons in disbelief. It was obvious that her right hand was disabled.

This made Mathilde frustrated at first, then annoyed, and then angry. She couldn't help but scream "Ah!" and raised her left hand holding the axe and rushed towards Bestur, wanting to fight them both to the death.

Bestur was horrified when he saw this, and he quickly stood up, crawled, and turned to run.

One of the two men was staggering forward with his back hunched and his hands covering his chest; the other was holding an axe high, with multiple scars on his body, limping as he desperately chased forward. He looked so miserable and weird, there was no trace of the heroic demeanor of masters fighting each other.

They ran half a circle around the arena. Mathilde began to stagger due to excessive blood loss. She had to stop and tear a piece of cloth from her body with her left hand. Then, she used her teeth to stop the bleeding on her right wrist.

Bestur also recovered, stood up straight, and kept rubbing his chest with his hands. He saw blood flowing from his left arm, so he quickly tore off a strip of cloth to bandage himself to stop the bleeding.

When he finished bandaging the wound, he found that Mathilde was looking at him with murderous eyes.

Although it seemed that it was always Mathilde who was chasing Bestur, in fact, compared with the losses, it was obviously Mathilde who suffered the greater loss.

Not only was her left arm injured, the tendons in her right wrist were broken and disabled, her right leg was also penetrating, and she also had abrasions on her ribs and left arm, with blood oozing from the wounds. Her combat power was reduced to 60% to 70% out of 10, and as she lost blood, her combat power would only get lower and lower.

On the other hand, although Bestul's left arm was hit by an axe, the shield blocked most of the force, so the axe blade did not penetrate too deeply into the flesh and did not injure his bones. Although he was kicked hard by Mathilde, her foot was already injured and not even 30% of the power was left, so it was not a big deal. He also had basically no injuries to other parts of his body, and still had 70% to 80% of his combat power.

So Bestul is not in a hurry at the moment. He has suffered the loss of his rashness again. This is a matter of life and death. No matter how confident and brave he is, he has to be cautious.

Just like before, he circled around Mathilde again and again, judging her current physical condition by her subtle reactions every time she lifted her injured foot and turned her body, and looking for the best time to attack.

Mathilde also knew Bestour's purpose. This most powerful enemy she had ever seen in her life made her despair. If it were an ordinary person, she would have given up resistance long ago, but she couldn't. How could she give up easily when she had a blood feud? This made her fighting will particularly strong.

Obviously Bestul had found the best way to defeat her completely. Although she was panicking, she was still thinking of ways to break the impasse. However, as she lost too much blood, she felt her body getting heavier and heavier. She could not even stand steadily. Her thinking also became dull and her vision started to blur.

Seeing that the last bit of fighting power was about to be lost, Mathilde let out an unwilling roar and threw the flying axe in her left hand at Bestul.

It would be difficult for ordinary people to dodge this hateful full-strength attack, but the one facing him was Bestur, a top-level fighter who was beyond the level of ordinary people of this era. He just made a sword flower with the scimitar in his hand, and then slightly turned sideways to deflect the flying axe, thus easily dissolving the attack.

Seeing that her last attack was ineffective, Mathilde seemed to have lost all her will to fight. Her eyes rolled up, she let out a long breath, and her body fell forward, fainting.

The winner was decided, and the entire arena suddenly became unusually quiet. The spectators could never have imagined that the female killer who had killed more than a dozen people in two days would be defeated like this.

After a brief silence, all kinds of noise and abuse followed. It was obvious that the female gladiator's two-day winning streak had caused many people to lose a large sum of money. This time, those who bet on her to win had lost everything. They wished that this hateful woman would die right now. This resentment soon gathered into hysterical shouts:

"Kill! kill! kill..."

Bestur was no longer affected by this kind of excitement. The fierceness of the battle with Mathilde was the most intense he had ever seen in his life. He had deep feelings about this battle. Now it was difficult for any external factors to affect him. In matters between life and death, the only thing to consider was to win. Everything else was vain.

Seeing Mathilde lying on the ground, a sense of vigilance arose in his heart. As a murderer, he had seen countless bodies falling to the ground when their lives were about to end. Based on his experience, Mathilde's state of falling to the ground just now was very realistic, so realistic that it was impeccable, but it was this impeccable state that made him alert.

I saw her lying on the ground like a pile of rotten meat, with her toned buttocks slightly raised. As her body was leaning over, her left hand was pressed under her. Perhaps it was the pain from the wound that caused her body to twitch irregularly occasionally.

After hesitating for a moment, Bestur walked towards Mathilde with a seemingly normal pace. In fact, he gripped the ground with all five toes with every step, and walked firmly without any vanity. When he was two meters away from Mathilde, he stopped and looked quietly at Mathilde's body lying on the ground, amid the noisy cheers from the audience.

At this moment, there seemed to be an indescribable thing rising in Mathilde's body. When this thing made Bestur's eyes wide open so wide that it hurt, he saw Mathilde's body tremble slightly, a tremor that was by no means unconscious. This set off alarm bells in his heart and he leaped back suddenly.

At the same time, Mathilde suddenly jumped up from the ground where she was lying on the ground, holding the only remaining throwing axe in her left hand.