Those skeletons who lived in the desert and were scarred by the wind and sand were far less powerful and equipped than the terrifying undead who lived in the cellars. The skeleton in front of him had a hideous complexion, and there was only a strange blue light left in its hollow eye sockets.

"Its sword...... "Mikhail holding his sword in both hands" is infused with frost magic. ”

"Be careful!" Helge shouted in horror as he held out his hand.

Mikhail moved swiftly and leaped to dodge the undead's blow. The ground was cleaved by the longsword that glowed blue. Mikhail did not miss this golden opportunity, turned around, and with the help of his own weapon, slashed into the ribs of the skeleton.

"Die!"

Mikhail swung his sword in a circle between the other man's ribs, and although it was difficult, the skeleton's chest was still broken.

"Woo......"

The skeleton hissed in horror and slammed its shield into Mikhail's side with its left hand, who was caught off guard and knocked to the ground, retreating a few meters away, and the sword fell to the ground.

Before the skeleton could swing its sword and continue its attack on Mikhail, it immediately turned around quickly and slashed its weapon behind him.

An extremely ferocious chill flowed down the scepter into Helga's hand. The Elite Skeleton's attack was not interrupted by this sneak attack, but instead became more rapid. Helge struggled to catch the other party's sword rain with his scepter, and could only retreat in the hope that Mikhail would react quickly.

Mikhail did not disappoint Helg. Just as Helg and the elite skeletons were in a fierce battle, Mikhail was already holding his blue steel longsword, and suddenly rushed from the place where he fell to the ground at such a fast speed that he even caused a few cracks in the ground with just his feet.

"Woo......"

The skeleton let out a painful hiss again - it was unclear if it was painful or not, as they weren't sure if the skeleton could have senses of its own, but the terrifying anomaly of the sound was completely certain.

The undead was cut in two, the part below the vertebrae did not move, and the body above it continued to wriggle and twist. The terrifying skeletal face is still tearing apart. Helga didn't find any vocalizations on the creature, but it didn't look like it was released by the friction of bones at all—it was like a whisper from hell.

"Sink me into the ground......," Mikhail crushed the undead's head with a kick, cracking the ground inch by inch.

Helga felt like his hands were no longer perceiving. She shook her arms tremblingly, and found that her hands, especially her fingers, were already blue and even broken.

"Helge ......"

"Don't touch me yet. Helgo frowned, and with the last strength of his hand he lifted the scepter from the ground. The silver scepter still had a white chill on it, and it still brought a hot pain when it touched his skin.

"In the name of the Three Saints, recover!"

As soon as she finished reading this paragraph, the facial features on her face suddenly twisted into a ball, her originally snow-white face became red, the green tendons on her slender neck burst out, and her eyes were immediately bloodshot.

"Ahh......h

"Helga, Helga!"

Mikhail rushed forward, grabbed Helg by the waist, and held her arms with his right hand, watching helplessly as Helg's hands continued to evaporate with white mist.

Helg squirmed in Mikhail's arms, his eyes filled with tears.

Mikhail's skills that he has cultivated in the midst of flowers all year round are useless at this moment. He wanted to say something to alleviate Helgo's pain, but after thinking about it, he had only one way to be silent to ensure that it would not exacerbate it, although he did not feel it, but he clearly understood the depth of the pain.

Mikhail secretly scolded himself for being useless, and with a twinkle in his eyes, he tried to look at Helg with a calm and gentle appearance.

Helge's heaving chest finally calmed down, and her hands drooped, almost drenched in sweat.

"Are you feeling better?" Mikhail bit his lip with his teeth, and could only think of the words.

Helga gasped.

"When you get frostbitten, your hands don't feel sensation, you don't feel pain, but once you start to heal," she said, holding out her two hands that have fully recovered, "it's indescribable." At this time, she realized that she was lying defenselessly in Mikhail's arms, and she jumped up from the ground, and her cheeks, which had just been somewhat relieved, were red again.

"What did you just do!?"

"I'm ......" the corners of Mikhail's mouth twitched, stunned for a moment, and then deliberately squinted, "You don't know, just when you recovered, I secretly rubbed oil on your thigh...... I think both parts are pretty elastic......

Helga felt a wave of lightheadedness.

"You ......" She gripped her scepter with her right hand, and several times tried to swing it and smash the man in front of her—perhaps she had wanted to do it a long time ago—but she sighed and fell to her knees. "Sansheng, this man did it secretly, not what I meant. ”

Mikhail looked at her with a smile on his face.

Helga glared at him.

"I won't sanction you, and the Three Saints will sanction you in the future. ”

"Well, it seems that I am so unbearable in the minds of the Three Holy Sects?" he stood up, thrust his bluesteel sword back into its scabbard. "But according to your words, people like me are going to hell. Maybe I'm going to die here, and then I'll be reunited with Thor, the god of death, haha. ”

Helga didn't laugh.

"You know what? I've always felt like you're very different from the other pastors. Mikhail laughed a few times, then walked forward, trying to continue with his usual move, patting Helg on the shoulder, but Helg was nimble enough to dodge it. Mikhail did not care about these things. "I don't know these differences between you, but I always feel that you are not ordinary. ”

"Should I take your words as flattery or what?" Helge snorted coldly. "If you really did something bad just now, I won't be done with you for the rest of my life. ”

"What kind of bad condition is it that a priest must maintain his own purity?" Mikhail shook his head, "one of the three saints, the founder of Nivazhan, I remember falling in love too......"

"This thing...... You've already talked about it in that tent......" Helge couldn't help but blush and heartbeat every time he heard someone explain something about it, and this time was no exception. She panicked and picked up her scepter and walked towards a small room not far away. "Hurry up, we're about to go to the real tomb. ”

"Aren't these real coffins either?" Mikhail pointed to some of the huge sarcophagi that lay out on either side of the hallway. "It's a pity that I don't dare move them even a bit, for fear that as soon as a crack is exposed, a terrifying skeleton will jump out of it. ”

"Tomb robbers are bolder than you. ”

"If you still want to get your hands frostbitten again, maybe you can give it a try. Mikhail tiptoed to a metal door, touched the latch lightly, and seeing that nothing else had happened, he cautiously pushed the door in.

"Oh......"

It's a promenade that's so long that you can't even see the end. The new flags still hung from the top of the room to the ground on both sides of the corridor. The floor was covered with a strange carpet of red and purple, and the unquenchable flame of magic swayed in the purple brazier. Helga smelled a strong, ominous odor.

"Ahh......h

Four skeletons, identical to the undead they had just met, hissed and ran in the direction of the two from the other side of the hallway. Mikhail snorted, then drew his blue steel sword again, trying to go up to meet it, but was stopped by Helg with his right hand.

"You can't deal with four by yourself, let me come first. Helg stood in front of Mikhail, raised his scepter, and chanted aloud, "In the name of the Three Saints, melt the undead!"

The gem at the top of the scepter suddenly shone with a white glow, and those rays scattered into four beams and shone on the skeleton's forehead, and the skeletons were stunned, and finally their steps slowed down, and the color of their bones became dull.

"Up!"

Without waiting for Helg to say this, Mikhail first rushed forward with one lunge, slashed the skeleton in front with a single sword, and then slashed three in a row without any delay, solving the immediate difficulty.

"Their attacks have become sluggish, and their defense has decreased. Mikhail turned around. "Why didn't you just use such skills?"

"It's not that dangerous...... "Helge cupped his head. "This skill of mine is group weakening, it is only effective against the undead, it consumes a lot of divine power, and it is really a big fuss to use it on a skeleton......"

"I can smell the decay getting stronger and stronger through here, are we almost there?"

"There's a ......hall at the end of the hallway," Helg took a few steps forward, glancing at the skeletons shattered on the ground. "In the dark, I feel that there is a powerful and terrifying aura in it. ”

"Oh, is it the boss?" Mikhail narrowed. "Sure enough, usually when the protagonist comes to the end, a big boss usually pops up, and only by defeating this big boss can you get what you want to get. ”

"It's a pity that the two of us are not the protagonists. ”

"Why? Does anyone still have the word protagonist written on his face?" said Mikhail, who held out his hand again, but it was suspended in the air, and it did not fall on Helge's shoulder. "If there really is a protagonist in this world, no one is more suitable to be this person than you. ”

Helga was a little flattered.

"What do you mean?"

Mikhail smiled and walked over to the walls of this promenade and lightly pointed to the patterns with his hand.

"Do you understand the murals?" said Mikhail's eyes, his words revealing a subtle sadness. "Do you think we can really get out of this place?"

"Mikhail ......"

"We haven't thought about it since we stepped into this tomb. Above us there is an endless desert, and beneath us there is a bottomless abyss. I don't know if there's a god of death in this world, Thor," he gestured to the man on the throne depicted in the mural. "But I knew we would never be able to leave together. ”

"Huh?" Helge stretched out his hands, coughed a few times, and whispered, "What are you talking about?

"Look here. ”

Helga turned his head.

In the mural, under the throne of Thor, the god of death, there is a long and deep corridor, and under the banner of the corridor, two extremely familiar figures walk.

"It's ......"

"Me and you. ”

Mikhail said calmly.

"From the first moment we stepped into this corridor, my eyes never took off the mural. He gently stroked the carved gold wall with his fingers. "At the end of this corridor there is a large mouth of blood, as if waiting for us to jump into this abyss. ”

Helge swallowed.

"Behind this painting," Mikhail slowly moved away. "You, Helga, you jumped in. ”

Helga's face turned pale.

The white figure on the mural jumped into the bloody mouth, and the man not far away held a silver-white cross necklace in his left hand, crying bitterly.

"No, it can't be like this......" Helge laughed and shook his head. "Maybe it's a coincidence on this mural...... The man who carved it, who happened to construct two fictional characters, would not be our ...... I wouldn't have jumped into that big mouth so stupidly...... Besides, look at ......," she gestured to the distance of the corridor. "It's a big iron gate, not some giant monster. ”

"But there is no way back. ”

Helge was stunned.

She turned around, and there was an iron door she had just stepped through. Countless pairs of strange blue flames flickered there, and every illusory figure was filled with endless and unprovoked anger and hatred.

"Ghost ......"