The Nine Palaces of the Phoenix Rebellion petrified lizard

"Why?" Trist asked, "Belva Diesengerp, an Honored Chief" Belva winced again when the title was mentioned again. "Why hide in your own shadows?"

Belwa gritted her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "Get out." He let out a deep roar, "You are young, dark elves, and you have a bright future. I'm old, and my time is over. ”

"You're not that old." Trist argues that this time he has decided to force the Honorary Captain to reveal his troubles. But Belva simply turned around and walked into his bedroom without saying a word, pulling down the blanket that hung from the entrance.

Trist shook his head, frustrating his fist against his palm. Belva did so much for him, first by saving his life from the king's execution, by soothing him with friendship in the weeks that followed, and by teaching him the language and way of life of Snebri. And even though he saw that Belva was carrying some kind of great burden, he didn't know how to help him in return. He wanted to lift the blanket on the door and walk in, so that Belva could vent the gloom in his heart.

However, Trist wouldn't be so reckless with his new friend. He will surely find the key to his friend's heart, Trist swore inwardly. But he now has his own problems to overcome. Belva allows him to venture out into the world of Brendon Stone!

Trist looked out at the group of gnomes. Three of them stood upright in front of the simulant, pretending they had turned to stone. The dark elf moved curiously towards the door, but before he knew it, he had stepped out of the doorway and walked towards the group of playing gnomes.

As the Dark Elves approached, the game ended, and they were clearly more interested in the rumored and legendary Dark Elves, and everyone swarmed around Trist and whispered to each other.

Trist noticed that the muscles in his body tensed involuntarily again. The hunter's primal instincts seem to be a weakness that he cannot restrain himself. Trist squeezed his alter ego hard, silently but firmly reminding himself that this group of gnomes was not an enemy.

"Hello friends of Belvadi Senge!" One of the dwarfs greeted me, "I'm Sediger, a milky kid, but in three years' time, I'll be a prospector!" ”

Trist struggled to make out the underground gnome's eager words, but he did understand the importance of Sedig's future career. Belva had told him that prospectors were tasked with going to dangerous dark areas for precious minerals and gemstones, and therefore had a high status among the underground gnome cities.

"Hello, Sediger," Trist finally responded, "I'm Triste Duden." With that, he didn't know what else to do, so he crossed his hands over his chest. To the Dark Elves, it was a gesture of peace, though he wasn't sure if it would be universally applicable to the Dark Regions.

The underground gnomes looked at each other a few times, and then they asked him to do the same. Trist sighed reassuringly, and all the gnomes laughed.

"They say you've been in the Dark Regions for a while." Sediger continued, leading Trist to where they had played.

"It's been many years." Trist replied, following the young gnome. As soon as he approached the dwarf, the hunter inside him was ready to move, but he tried to resist the urge to reflex. When the group arrives at the simulant's location, Sedig sits down on a rock and asks Trist to tell a story or two of his adventures.

Trist hesitated, not knowing if he could handle the Snebli he had learned. But Sediger and the other cowards were urging him. Finally, he nodded, thought for a moment, and tried to recall some of the more interesting events. He unconsciously scanned the entire cavern, looking for clues. Finally, the gaze fell on the fake that was magnified by the illusion.

“。” Sediger explained.

"I know," replied Trist, "I've met one once." He casually turned his head to look at the gnomes, only to be startled by their expressions. The gnomes all looked at him with their mouths wide open, and their faces were a mixture of treachery, fear, and joy.

Trist smiled after understanding their exclamation. Unlike the Dark Elves, the Underground Gnomes protect their young people well. Although these young men were close in age to Trist, they rarely set foot in Brindon Stone; At this age, the Dark Elves had already been sent to patrol the passages near Morsoblay City. So, while this terrifying monster is rare in the Dark Realms, Trist's encounter with him is not so unbelievable to the underground gnomes.

"You said it doesn't exist!" One underground gnome yelled at the other and shoved his shoulders hard.

"I didn't!!" The other party denied it and pushed back.

"My uncle has seen one." Another said.

"All your uncle sees are claw marks on the stone wall!" Sediger laughed and said, "According to him, that's the footprint!" ”

Trist's smile deepened. It is a magical creature that is more commonly found in other Atlases. Dark elves, especially high priests, often open portals to other worlds; But such monsters are unusual in the living world of underground gnomes. Very few gnomes can see it. Thinking of this, Trist couldn't help but laugh out loud: there was no doubt that only a few of them would have the privilege of returning to the city to report his adventures!

"If your uncle had followed the tracks and spotted a monster," Sediger continued, "he would have turned into a pile of rocks in the tunnel!" Stones don't tell you stories! ”

The mocked gnome looked around, trying to argue. "Tristadon saw it!" He protested, "He didn't turn to stone either!" All eyes were immediately on Trist.

"Have you really seen it? Dark elves? Sediger asked, "Please, be honest." ”

"One." Trist replied.

"So, you ran away before it glared at you?" Sediger asked, a question that all the gnomes present thought were exaggerated.

"Escape?" Trist didn't quite understand the meaning of the term.

"Escape...... Uh, stay away. Sediger explained. He looked at the other gnome, who then looked frightened, feigned fear, and fled a few steps back in a panic. The rest of the gnomes cheered his performance enthusiastically, and Trist laughed along.

"You ran away a long way before it glared at you with its terrifying gaze?" Sediger explained.

Trist shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. Sediger guessed he was hiding something.

"You didn't run far?"

"I can't...... Escape," Trist explained, "invaded my home and killed many of my Lothmons." Home," he paused for a moment, searching for the correct subterranean gnome vocabulary. "Shelter," he finally found his words. "In the middle of the wilderness of a dark region, a place that is hard to find. Once you've found it, you have to protect it at all costs. ”

"You're fighting it?" An unknown exclamation came from behind the gnome herd.

"Attacking with stones from a distance?" "That's the most feasible way," Sediger asked. ”

Trist looked at the pile of dwarfs used to throw fake pebbles, and then at his slender body. "I can't lift these rocks at all." He laughed.

"So how do you do that?" Sediger asked, "You have to tell us." ”

Trist knew what story he could tell. He was silent for a while to gather his thoughts, and found that his existing underground glossary was not enough to convey the whole intricacies of the story, so he decided to visualize it. He borrowed two sticks from the gnome to use as his twin knives, and checked to see if the mock could bear his weight.

The underground gnomes huddled together, looking nervously at Trist as he described the dark enchantment he had cast right on his head, and the location of his feline companion Guan Haifa. The gnomes all sat down and leaned forward, amazed at everything he said. In their minds, the simulacrum had come to life and was clumsily moving forward, and Triste, a stranger from the outer world, was lurking in the shadows behind it.

The scene of "Trist War" is underway, and at this time Trist attacks the lizard. As he lightly jumped onto the lizard's back and cautiously walked towards the monster's head, he heard the gnomes inhale in unison. Trist infected their excitement, and his memories became clearer.

Everything is so real.

The gnomes couldn't help but move forward, expecting a wonderful sword show from the famous dark elf.

Then something terrible happened.

A second ago, he was still an acting Trist, entertaining his new friends with adventurous difficulties and martial arts skills; The next second, when he raised the stick prop to beat the fake monster, he was no longer Trist. The hunter stood above the lizard, and the whole plane returned to the day when it was in the passage outside the mossy burrow.

The stick slammed into the monster's eyes and into the monster's head.

The underground gnomes retreated suddenly, some frightened, others just cautious. Under the constant onslaught of the hunters, the whole stone shattered with a bang. The thick plank that was the monster's head snapped and fell to the ground, and the dark elves rolled backwards. The hunter rolled with agility, rolled over to his feet, and then stepped forward to attack, angrily striking with his stick. The stick could not withstand the force and broke from it, and the hunter's hand was wounded and bleeding, but he did not give up the attack.

The gnomes reached out their thick hands and grabbed the arms of the dark elves, trying to calm him down. One of the hunters turned to face his new enemies, who were stronger than him, two of them clinging to him, but he twisted his body deftly, throwing them off balance. The hunter kicked them in the knee and quickly crouched down, knocking them both upside down.

The hunter spun to his feet, his twin knives in his hand, aimed at an enemy running toward him.

Undeterred, Belva threw his hands forward to defend himself. "Trist!" He kept calling: "Triste Duden! ”

The hunter looked at NB343 and the shovel on the hands of the underground gnomes, the glittering Mithril sheen evoking memories of him. Suddenly he was Trist again. Shocked and ashamed, he let go of the stick in his hand and looked down at his scarred hands.

Belva grabbed the fainting elf, carried him home on his shoulders, and placed him in a hammock.

The dark part of Trist's self and other memories of life in the dark region continue to turn into nightmares that invade his sleep.

"How do I explain it?" That night, Belva found Trist sitting at the stone table thoughtfully, and Trist asked, "How do I open my mouth to apologize?" ”

"None of them have to." Jalwa said.

Trist looked at him incredulously. "You don't understand." Trist spoke, thinking about how he could make the prospecting leader understand the darkness deep inside him.

"You have lived many years in the dark lands," said Jalva, "and no one can survive there, and you have done it." ”

"But did I survive?" Trist asked aloud.

Belva lifted NB343's executioner and gently patted him on the shoulder, then sat down on the table beside him. They spent the night in silence. Trist didn't say anything, and Belva didn't rush him. The prospecting captain knew the role he was supposed to play: the pillar of the silent mind.

I don't know how many hours passed, until Sediq's voice came from outside the door again. "Tristaddon, come on!" The young gnome shouted, "Tell us the story of the Dark Realm again!" ”

Trist looked at Belva in surprise, he didn't know if the invitation was a malicious trap or a sarcastic joke.

Belva smiled, dissolving his worries. "The stone is on top, the dark elves," he giggled, "they won't let you hide." ”

"Tell them to go away." Trist insisted.

"You want to give up so much?" Jalwa retorted, his otherwise round voice with a pronounced sharpness: "Are you the one who has been tempered in the wilderness?" ”

"It's too dangerous," Trist explained in despair, "I can't control it...... I can't get rid of it! ”

"Go and join them, dark elves," Jalwa said. "They'll be careful this time."

"This ...... Beast...... Immediately after me...... "Trist wanted to make it clear.

In these days, it may be so, but Jalwa replied lightly: "The stone is on top, Tristaduden!" Five weeks is not a long time compared to the trials you have endured in 10 years! You'll take your time from this...... Liberated among the beasts. ”

Trist's lilac eyes stared at Belvardi Senge's gray pupils, and all he could see was sincerity.

"Unless you go find it yourself." The head of the prospecting regiment concluded his words.

"Triste Duden, come!" Sediger urged again outside the door.

This time, and every day afterward, Trist always came out and was the only one who was "himself".

The Mushroom King looked down on the dark elf, searching back and forth through the mossy caverns below. It could tell that this wasn't the elf it had been there last time, but its ally, Trist, was the only dark elf it had ever come into contact with. With this in mind, the eleven-foot-tall monster slowly climbed down the upper cavern to intercept the uninvited guest, despite the danger.

When the living mushroom approached, Zaknafan's corpse had no intention of fleeing or hiding, and the twin swords were already in hand. The Mushroom King spews out a cloud of solitary sons, trying to communicate with the new visitor in a heart-to-heart manner.

However, the undead monster was made up of two different otherworldly objects, and such attempts had no effect on him. Zaknavan's body confronts the mushroom, but the mind of the corpse is far away, directly connected to the will of the Mother of Mareth. The Spirit-bound corpse is closing in on the enemy.

The mushroom spews out a second cloud of hugs, which has a calming effect and calms the emotions of the enemy, but it is also ineffective. The Spiritbound Corpse approached firmly, and the troll raised its strong hands to deliver a heavy punch.

Zaknafan's twin swords swung quickly, leaving a severe wound on the mushroom's hand. Then, the corpse slashed at the troll at lightning speed, leaving two large holes in its mushroom-like body. The mushroom king leaned back, and his huge body fell to the ground.

In the upper caverns, dozens of older, stronger mushroom men move clumbly, trying to come down to rescue their badly wounded king. The Spiritbound Corps watched as they approached expressionlessly. He dealt with the Giant Mushroom and calmly greeted the next wave of attacks.

The mushrooms crowded around and ejected clouds of spores. Zaknavan ignored them, and was unaffected, concentrating on their punches and kicks.

In the blink of an eye, all the mushrooms fell at his feet.

For countless centuries, the mushroom people have built their homes here, lived their own lives, and lived without fighting with the world. However, when Zack returns in vain from the small cave that had once been Trist's residence but is now long deserted, he rages at destroying any illusion of peace. He leapt onto the rock wall and cut down all the mushrooms that he could see, sparing no one wherever he passed.

Huge mushrooms sloping east and west, like felled trees. In the lower caverns, the nervous Los herd was once again frightened by the commotion and fled in all directions, scattered in the wilderness of the dark region. The few surviving mushrooms scrambled to escape the slaughter of the dark elves, but the mushrooms were slow to move, so where could they escape the relentless pursuit of Zaknavan?

The kingdom that had ruled the mossy caverns and mushroom forests for so long perished.

Chapter 9: Whispers in the Tunnel

The underground gnome patrol advanced inch by inch in the winding bends of the tunnels, each with their weapons in hand. The patrol wasn't far from Brindon Stone, less than a day's journey, but they were already in a ready formation, which was usually only possible when they were deep into the shadows. The stench of death permeated the tunnel.

The leading gnome knew that the scene of the massacre was in front of him, and he cautiously peeked behind a boulder. Goblins! His feelings were clearly transmitted to his companions behind him through telepathy between his kind. When danger approached in the dark realms, the underground gnomes rarely spoke, instead using telepathy between their own species to communicate their basic ideas to each other.

The other gnomes became excited, clenched NB343 and shovels in their hands, and began to telepathically communicate their battle plans to each other. The leader, who was still scouting behind the stones, stopped their discussion. Dead!

The other team members followed, gathered around the boulder to see what was happening in front of them. The corpses of twenty or so goblins were scattered on the ground, covered in deadly slash marks.

"Dark Elves." After seeing the precise and sharp knife cuts on the corpse, one of the team members whispered. Of all the races in the Dark Regions, only the Dark Elves wield weapons with blades as thin and blades as thin.

Too close. Another dwarf punched his teammate in the shoulder who had previously spoken, relaying his thoughts.

New book、、、、、、、、、、、、、、 Petrified Lizard