The Nine Palaces of Phoenix Chaos Mistra's Chosen One

The southeast of the forest suddenly became gloomy, the earth shook, and a protective flame fell from the sky.

Oh, it looks like he was going to do that.

Il sped up in the air and ran forward, one hand protecting the saddlebag on his shoulder so that he could run faster. He knew it was a deliberately summoned battle spell.

There were still flames dancing on the branches of the tree in front of him, and a large tree was falling to the west, and it seemed that the spell that had just struck him was really powerful.

Ilr chased into a deep ravine in the direction of the sound, the bottom of which was full of stones and ferns, and a stream of water ran along the ancient boulders. A stone had been overturned, and there was still an unextinguished flame on it, and something had been torn apart, revealing bones.

Someone sped over the boulders. Ilr saw elves in front of him, fighting a group of burly red-skinned warriors. The red stuff, with its fangs protruding from its mouth, was dressed in black leather armor, and many daggers, axes, and nail rakes protruded from the outside.

The elves by the stream were frightened by the monsters and killed many of them. Ilr was running over the fern roots, the package on his back shaking. An elven sword shone with the light of a spell, rising and falling. Its owner fell to the ground, clutching his injured neck in pain and screaming. The other monster raised his iron rod and slammed it on the elven warrior's head, a muffled thud that rippled through the valley.

The poor man's head was smashed to pieces, blood splattered, and his twitching limbs fell beside his partner. Only one of the last elves remained, and it looked like the guards guarding the Komando. The elf was tall, wearing a cloak and a row of oval gems on his shoulders, which shone as he dodged. Il, guessing that he must be a mage, raised his hand to cast a spell to help the elf.

The elf struck a step faster than him, and a fireball erupted from the palm of one hand, stabbing into the face of the monster holding the stick. The enemy staggered back a few steps, howling in anger and pain, and the flames erupted with two sharp horns, shaped like a bull's head, piercing the red-skinned monster, leaving only a few gray bones beneath the leather armor. The big iron rod fell on the stone with a clatter, and the monster fell with a scream. Then the elven mage turned the horn flame towards the head of the other attacker.

Too late. The flames were still burning in the face of one of the Lukka monsters, who had already raised a long black iron fork, the evil iron tip stabbing into the elven mage's chest.

Ilr threw the dagger with all his might, and the dagger flew in mid-air, spinning and turning, and the elven mage impaled in the chest screamed miserably, struggling on the bloody fangs, and fell into the stream. The monsters swarmed around the boulder and stabbed the churning elven mage into a blood sieve. Il's handsome face twitched in pain, and he reached out to grasp something in the air, and countless silver spots of light suddenly flashed over the stream.

The monsters wailed and bent down, and the elves fell into the tumbling stream again. Lukka's strange weapons fell on him. Il's dagger arrived, tearing apart the monsters with all its might, and igniting blue-white flames. Magical fire erupted from the monster's mouth and nostrils, and the bulging eyes on the ugly face were burned into a blue-white mist. The charred bodies of the monsters struggled on the rocks for a while, trampled countless aquatic plants, and finally fell into the stream, leaving only the elven mage who was still in the water. And even more angry Lukkas, with great axes, forks and swords in their hands, rushed down from the far side of the valley.

Il used a spell to hang himself in the air and walked over to the elf. The mage's injured body curled up at his feet, his beautiful emerald green eyes shining with pain and confusion, but his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a human. Sweat drenched his white-blonde hair.

"I'm on your side," the Arsenrant told the elves, sweeping away the blood-stained water with his hands. This action invalidated his suspension method, and it was only then that Ilr realized that his boots had been torn with a large hole. The icy rapids immediately swallowed one of his feet.

But he didn't have time to worry about this little thing. Wild ferns wrapped around his body, and more Lukka monsters appeared in his sight, grinning disgustingly with dirty teeth as the ruse had succeeded. The elven patrols seem to have mistakenly planted the camp into their lair, but it's more likely that these monsters carefully surrounded the poor people while the elves were sleeping. The whole valley was filled with these vicious yellow-toothed Lukkas, arms in hand, hunched over, cautiously and slowly surrounding. It seems that these monsters know that mages are always particularly dangerous. Since they were able to come up with this law, they must have fought with the mage. And the most important point is that they are the last ones to survive.

Eir stood beside the weakly coughing elf and glanced at the situation behind him. Well, those things are all over there, slowly approaching, with a look on their faces. There are at least seventy or so, if not more. Il's remaining spells don't have much, and trying to deal with them is a tricky problem.

It seems that there is only one chance to buy yourself time to think about a way out of this situation. Ilr tore open his leather saddle bag and grabbed six daggers, arranging them in a messy clump, chanting incantations and throwing them into the air with all his might, his fingers crackling. The dagger shot out around his head like a wasp bush, slicing open the face of a Lukka monster who was too close.

The monsters heard the screams of their companions and rushed towards Il in all directions. The dagger roared, hissing at any monster that dared to rush at it. But these daggers, in the face of a large group of monsters, are really too insignificant.

A spear was thrown at him, stabbing Il in the shoulder, and he took a step back, only to be hit in the nose by another stone. Lukka was not a fool, and when he saw the dagger that was manipulated by a spell and flew in the air, he also came up with a countermeasure. Why do you want to fight against that iron wall? Throw a lot of weapons and let that poor man rest there!

Another stone slammed into Il's forehead, instantly smashing him dizzy. As soon as the Luka monster made a move, the surrounding monsters suddenly erupted in cheers. Ilr shook his head vigorously, sank down, leaned against the elf, and silently uttered a word. He never imagined that he would have the opportunity to use this spell. But this time, he only hoped it was too late.

The eyes with magical eyes carefully looked at the trees on the cliff in front of them, this, that, this, that. The gods should have cursed that stinky boy! Did he have to search every tree, and there was a magical glow under every tree!

Did he bury his scepter under the first tree? Or was it buried under a second tree? Which one is real and which one is just a trap?

The owner of the eyes was so angry that he couldn't wait for the silent gods to punish the Asenrant kid, so he simply went into battle himself and cursed his opponent.

The man roared, unleashing a spell. As he expected, the magic revealed a buzzing web of power that covered the entire cliff, but it was impossible to pinpoint the exact location of the Scepter. If you want to break this power net, you have to rely on Yir's own mind...... Or, let him die.

Very good, very good, since the former method does not work, the other one can always do. With another wave of magic in his hands, a thick cloud of smoke rose from the forest floor.

Something sizzled, condensed in a soft voice, and a hungry desire emerged from it. After a few moments, it solidified, its body slowly straightened, and its rough claws tore at the air in front of it.

A mage killer!

The hateful eyes watched as the mage-killer stepped forward, searching for traces of the young Arsenrant. In its strange pose, it slowly walked through the woods and disappeared from sight.

A smile appeared on the face of the owner of the eyes, and it was not a smiling face. His mouth moved, and he threw more curses at Il. The gods above, have you ever heard these curses? These beautiful and vicious words are so funny that even the gods can't help but laugh.

A blue mist swirled up and descended rapidly. Then he saw Il's boots on the broken rocks, carrying the elf's weakened body in his hands.

They were standing on a square stone in the middle of the valley, surrounded by broken ferns. Luka's scream of surprise rang out behind them, and he was looking in this direction, looking for traces of the two men. And the flying daggers also suddenly flew to Yi'erxin's position, reforming a protective ring.

With a dying elf in his hand, it was not a good idea to approach Comandor like this. But now Il's has no choice but to choose. He patted the elf's lithe body on the shoulder, muttered, and trudged through the ravine with all the care, lest he trip over the fern and fall to the rough ground below. The shouts behind him grew louder, and Il pursed his lips and smiled, turning around.

The stone rolled beneath his feet, and a spear shot through the fern, and Lukka followed. Ilr stood firm and began the second jump of the "five-step chain jump".

Suddenly, he was standing in the middle of the scurrying monster herd, with elves on his shoulders. The monster cried out in disbelief, and Il struck his heel, searching for another place for the magic to land. Well, right in front of!

The sword had already beckoned, but unfortunately it was a step too late, and Il's figure disappeared again.

This time, a glittering blue mist swirled, and screams were heard behind him. The dagger slashed a bloody path through the horde of monsters and re-encircled Il. Luka turned his head, roared incessantly, and relined his line. Quietly watched, patiently waiting for them.

This time, the Lukkas didn't throw anything more. Their swords and axes were gone, and each Lukka hurried forward, ready to take matters into its own hands and tear apart the maddening "human". Ilr lifted the elven mage on his shoulder, found the right moment, and leaped forward, just to the other side of the monsters.

The daggers flying beside him made a new scream, cutting the monsters through their bloody path once more. Before a clumsy monster warrior could see who his opponent was, his throat was slit, blood spurted out, and he fell to the ground heavily. Several monsters stumbled, but turned around to keep up with the elusive human. There was one last jump left, and Il was determined to keep it. He staggered with the elf on his shoulder, turning to climb out of the ravine. Now only a few Lucka, who were particularly strong-willed, were still behind him.

Ilr continued to walk, searching for vantage points to give himself a distant line of sight. Behind him, Lukka, roared, reassuring each other that the human would soon be tired, that they would be able to slaughter him after dark, and that he might fall off the cliff himself!

Ilr ignored them and continued to search for the terrain. It took him a long time to find a good place: in the middle of another ravine, there was a large grove of trees. Ilr jumped over, leaving the monster far behind. Let's hope they won't catch up this time.

His dagger rings would soon fuse away, and when they were all gone, Il would have little left to defend himself against.

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