Unlike the low-level soldiers of the Scourge Legion, the Death Knights have some almost instinctive emotional remnants, but having lost most of their emotions, they no longer take the little emotional needs they have left. So when the vast majority of Death Knights are bored and empty, they tend to find things to do that make them happy to pass the time and get satisfaction.

Most Death Knights get satisfaction from killing and torturing their enemies, while a few get physical pleasure.

But Felicia had little interest in it. Her emotions seemed to be nothing but indifference.

Felicia can't remember anything about his life.

All she remembered was that when she opened her eyes again, she had become a Death Knight. Then he continued to grind, kept killing, and finally stepped on countless bones with his own strong strength to become the Great Lord of the Death Knight.

She could watch her men slaughter her enemies inch by inch, but screams and blood didn't make her happy. She can also calmly watch the Death Knights hold a carnal feast, but she is still indifferent in that **** atmosphere.

Of course, it's not that no one wants to conquer her, but it's a pity that those who are brave enough or don't have the brains to dare to act have made them pay a terrible price. Gradually, no one dared to provoke her anymore. Except for Icarus, who can make a draw with her and doesn't act so explicitly. However, I heard that it was also because Icarus made a bet with another high lord that he would be able to kill her without violence.

on this. Felicia didn't say anything, but she threw all the rewards she had received on the market where Icarus lost.

However, even the big gamble didn't make a trace of waves in her heart. She was just plain unhappy that Icarus was making her a bet. But there was another thing that she didn't understand. Every time she beat Icarus, she felt a familiar feeling of comfort in her heart. But she can be sure that it is definitely not a hellish love, it seems that a long time ago, she also often beat up another person who she was very unhappy with but helpless. It's impossible to say that she doesn't have a trace of curiosity about the past, but she can't remember who the guy she hates so much is. For this reason, Icarus, who likes to hit himself with a gun, became a substitute for the dead without knowing it. Every time she saw him, she couldn't help but be violent and wanted him to look good.

But Felicia herself knew that there was not a trace of loosening in her heart towards Icarus—not even a playful heart.

Felicia even began to be a little confused - she couldn't find a reason to exist in the days after her death, and she began to be disgusted with the long life of her life. This really shouldn't be the attitude of a Death Knight lord.

Today, however, I don't know why. The blonde hair seemed to be dangling in front of her eyes all the time, making her a little dazed.

Blond......

It's so familiar, it's so attached to it, who is it?

Felicia held out her hand in vain. Seems to want to grab the blonde hair. She could feel it. Her idea was not a spur of the moment. It was as if the longing and longing had suddenly surged from her already cold and lost soul and swept over her, leaving her mind blank.

The silhouette of the blonde with a sideways face kept flashing in front of her eyes, but she couldn't catch it after all.

The more I couldn't grasp it, the more I thought about it.

Until Lady Dead Whisper passed her death platform again, Felicia still hadn't come up with a reason.

Dead Words seemed to be in a good mood. The Lich King expressed appreciation and satisfaction for her work. And this is the greatest reward for a faithful servant, enough to satisfy the dead for a long time.

"Felicia, I've borrowed it again." She raised her chin slightly, reservedly.

"Oh, Lady Dead Talk. Your Majesty seems to be very pleased with your work. ”

Felicia asked politely.

"Not bad. His Majesty was pleased to bestow upon the two warriors the highest reward of all—the glory of eternal devotion to His Majesty's cause. Dead words swept his eyes behind him triumphantly, expressing his glory and pride without a trace. Felicia followed her gaze and noticed the Cultists of the Damned following behind Dead Whisper. Two have been transformed - from living humans to lichs and necromantic warriors.

"The results are remarkable, worthy of the Dead Lady." In fact, if nothing else, everyone knows that meeting the Lich King is the most proud moment for the Dead Whisperers. So she said with a lot of interest.

"Where, where. This is their well-deserved reward for their devotion to His Majesty. Although the words were humble, the triumph in the words of the dead words was obvious to even the ghouls who had lost their ears. After saying that, she lost no time in encouraging the others behind her. "Do not be discouraged, too. As long as you continue to work hard with the heart of loyalty to Your Majesty, you will one day be able to obtain such supreme glory! Make the most of every opportunity! ”

Felicia also followed Death's gaze to the retinue behind her. Her gaze wandered from the entourage behind Dead Whisper, and she finally found her target, a blonde-haired elven woman with reddish eyes and long drooping ears, as if she was feeling sad that she had not been transformed into glory. And Felicia's naked gaze obviously made the other party perceive.

The woman raised her gaze and met Felicia's lightning slightly, and then hurriedly lowered her eyes. It looked like a frightened white rabbit, which made Felicia inexplicably happy. It's just that I don't know why, but at this time, the elf is not only in the eye sockets, but also in the cheeks are faintly red. A faint flush floats on the porcelain-white skin.

"Felicia, what are you looking at?" Dead Words had apparently noticed Felicia's blatant gaze. She followed Felicia's gaze. "Mary? Come, I have met the Grand Lord of Felicia. ”

The elven woman named Mary stepped forward and performed the standard Cursed Sect ritual.

"How?" Dead Whisper grinned, and his bony hands pressed Mary's shoulders and pushed her forward like a vendor selling his proud goods. "Although I have not received the honor of serving my lord, I believe that it is more than enough to serve you Felicia."

Felicia was also unceremonious, like a guest waiting for a sale, her eyes roaming over Mary's body wantonly and mercilessly—because she was clasped tightly by the dead words, the loose cursed robe was now tightened on the elven woman named Mary, and the delicate curves were highlighted cleanly. The dead word pushed her forward again. "How? Accept this gift and my kindness. Felicia. (To be continued.) )