A Ruckus In The Forest (2)

The man shot another bullet towards Farrel's back while he was still looking at the fresh corpse on his feet.

But seeing the bullet could only put holes in Farrel's shirt and not his skin, the man put his gun aside and pulled out a knife from the inside pocket of his suit.

Seeing the man pulled out a knife, Farrel couldn't help but scratch his head.

"You're giving up alrea-" Farrel's words were cut off the moment he turned back and took a closer look at the knife that the man was holding.

'Ah, so that's the nasty stuff you were talking about.' Farrel sent his thoughts to Bahuwirya.

'That would explain why he could release himself earlier.'

'Yes, it's a strongly blessed item, it could hurt you.' The deep dark voice answered.

'Certainly. But only if it could hit my body,' Farrel replied before dashing forward once again.

Instead of dashing straight forward to the man, Farrel instead went in the direction of the drawers near him.

Before the man could react to any of his moves, Farrel pulled out the handle of a drawer and grabbed a metal vambrace from inside it.

After wearing it on his left arm, Farrel then rushed forward, this time directly towards the man.

The man was stricken with fear when he saw how Farrel had killed two of his colleagues with nothing more than a simple gesture of his hand and another using a single punch.

However, he was trained to function even in stressful situations, being constricted with fear as one of them.

Handling the knife as if it was part of his own body, the man slashed and stabbed, changing the hold on the knife as he adapted to different kinds of attacks that Farrel threw at him.

Fighting someone who was not untrained, Farrel himself knew that there was no way he would be pitting his close-quarter combat ability against the man.

He could definitely fight. He didn't just train with hexes and spells in his journey to becoming the strongest shaman.

Most often than not, he would be fighting against other shamans in different areas or even countries to learn the skills of others and sharpen his own.

Most of the battles were battles of sending hexes, pitting their strongest ghosts, and exchanging spells against each other.

But now a few of them were literal fistfights where Farrel had to fight someone that also had abilities to heal a decapitated arm just by rubbing their palms on the wound.

He could probably win or at least go even with the trained professional that was sent by the political figure he attacked in terms of close combat ability, but the knife the man was holding was a big Achilles heel for him.

He could deal with any kind of ghost just fine, even standing his ground against a demon wasn't something impossible if he went all out.

But clashing against holy energy was something else.

He could deal with the weaker stuff that people could easily get by simply dousing things in holy water or with a random religious leader blessing it.

However, Bahuwirya's and his instinct told Farrel that the knife that the man was holding was not just some random holy item.

It was most likely made with a material that had been used as a medium for prayers for at least tens of years and blessed by either an incredibly holy person or an abundant amount of less holy religious leaders.

And a knife like that was not something that Farrel could just deal with nonchalantly.

It would be just an ordinary knife that could seriously hurt you if you were just an ordinary man. But for someone who dabbled very deeply with ghosts, spells, and hexes, that knife was more than enough to badly hurt not only Farrel but also the ghosts that followed him.

Hence why he took things seriously and even prepared himself more by wearing the vambrace on his left forearm.

Instead of going all out on attacking the man with his punches that would be enough to break bones with a single hit, Farrel planned his approach properly.

Analyzing the man's moves and memorizing the gaps the man showed in his attacks and defenses.

The man was an experienced fighter. It was hard for Farrel to find huge gaps that he could easily exploit and the more time passed also the more time the man learned more about him.

Like the way Farrel was too cautious about the knife and used it as a deterrent whenever Farrel was about to launch his own attack, the man had also memorized it just like Farrel was also learning more about the man.

However, different from the man who solely relied on the holy item and his experience, Farrel also got more things in his arsenal in addition to his own experience and the vambrace.

In the first place, he was a shaman, not a professional MMA fighter or a hitman. He could have the ability to fight close-quarter combat, but no matter how good his ability on it was, it wouldn't be as good as his shamanism.

Knowing himself and knowing his enemy, Farrel knew what he needed to do.

After another round of exchange, punches being dodged, and steel clashing against steel, Farrel abruptly moved against the flow of the battle.

From the careful probing attacks, Farrel suddenly threw his foot up and did an axe kick where the sole of his shoes would hit the man's head if the latter didn't do anything.

And with the sudden change of his approach, of course, it would take someone on the receiving end more time to process what had just happened.

Most would panic and do something like just charging forward or dashing away backward as fast as they could to dodge the attack.

However, Farrel's opponent was an experienced fighter. He moved his feet back far enough and at a certain angle that it only took him a little bit of leaning to the side to completely dodge Farrel's axe kick.

Unfortunately for the man, it was exactly what Farrel was aiming for.

With the man putting his focus on Farrel's foot, the man lost sight of what Farrel's hands were doing.

In that short amount of time the man used to dodge the kick, Farrel had bitten his finger hard enough, causing it to bleed out crimson blood.

And after saying a quick chant that was audible only to him and his ghosts, Farrel splattered the blood in the man's direction.

It was yet another unexpected move that no ordinary person could have reacted to properly, but the man once again abruptly moved his head, which was the trajectory Farrel's blood was flying to, and leaned back even more, preventing the blood from touching his head.

The man didn't know what the blood would do, but it was certainly the right decision to prevent anything a dangerous shaman threw at you, especially if it was his blood.

The man saved his face from being tainted by Farrel's blood, but the same couldn't be said for the suit he was wearing.

And with his blood sticking to the man, that was more than enough for Farrel to activate his hex.