Talented Martial Hero novel Chapter 112

The twelve old witchers, who sat around the boiling blood pool, were shocked by the vast surge of power that exploded from Darren. They couldn't believe that the lad could release such power at a young age. They could only come up with one solution.

"Twelve. Send them out,"

came an order from a strong witcher, while still watching Darren's out-bursting power. They were all frantic but the strong witcher had to remain calm.

"Huh? Send them out? Should we let them go?" the one called Twelve anxiously asked, hoping he had just misheard things.

Hardly, his voice faded away when the blood pool bubbled and churned. The strong witcher's command lingered in his mind, making him tremble in fear.

At the sight of that situation, they had no choice but to do so. With full concentration, the eleven witchers quickly made up a phalanx with their hands raising up in complex gestures. Then streams of Witcher Power rushed out and formed a circle of light above the pool. On the other hand, Twelve was lost in fear, as he knew what would happen right now.

After a while, from the blood pool, a huge paw reached out instantly. As if it wanted to break through the Witcher Power hovering above. The devil had been suppressed in the pool for many years, but it always looked for a chance to revive. As the guarders of that pool, those witchers fulfilled their duties to suppress that devil under the pool, preventing it from getting away.

"Yes, Twelve. You heard me. Send them out," the strong witcher could only reply until then. Twelve couldn't suppress himself anymore.

"But I'll lose eighty percent of my Witcher Power if I do so. Then we can only suppress it for five hundred years at most," Twelve replied gravely. It was not that he didn't want to drain his power that much, but he worried that he would lose too much power to suppress the devil with his witcher brothers. He worried whether it was worthwhile to do so.

"It doesn't matter whether it's five hundred years or eight hundred years, Twelve. The devil will come back sooner or later. Send them out," said the strong witcher. Then together with the other ten witchers, he released more power to put that bloody paw down. Twelve was left hanging with the strong witcher's words.

Howl!

A loud shriek lingered around as the eleven witchers' attack strengthened more. Under stronger attack, the bloody paw disappeared followed by a sharp cry.

...

As Darren's horrific power evidently showed, there came frightened witchers. They all stood still and stared at Darren in alarm. Lost in mixed amusement and anxiety, the witchers badly wanted to talk to Darren but had no courage to do so.

At this time, a witcher, whose eyes were like a green blaze, walked out slowly. His gesture caught Darren's attention, but Darren could only watch him silently.

"Sir," the witchers there greeted respectfully together, while their voices echoed in the dark passage.

Then they told something to Twelve in a language that Darren didn't understand.

Twelve, on the other hand, only responded with a nod.

"Go ahead,"

Twelve ordered, and the other witchers left. Then he diverted his attention to Darren this time.

"Kid, how did you get into here? This is not a place that you can easily come to,"