It is difficult to discern the direction of the dimly lit space, and it is only known that it drifts downstream with the current. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 The info scrivener waved the scimitar in his hand, and the surrounding roots were cut into pieces. After being soaked in water, the roots become soft and urged, and there is a feeling of cutting vermicelli with a knife. The scrivener box is a lot bolder, and it's a big deal to chop them all up.

Not far away, there were roots moving, shrugging upwards, as if something was about to come out, but the roots were too tightly covered to break.

The scrivener was alert, and the scimitar in his hand was ready for battle, and there might be some monster in the water. A moment later, he realized something again, and the scimitar slashed the roots of the obstruction and swam towards his target. The scimitar was scattered everywhere, and soon something came out of the water.

It's a person. He held back in the water for a long time, and the moment his head came out of the water, he breathed heavily, his face turned purple, and the lack of oxygen was quite severe.

The scrivener quickly recognized that it was a wizard, and he was not dead.

The wizard was only concerned with breathing, not even having time to open his eyes, gasping for air, free and greedy. The scrivener stared at him, and there was an urge to laugh. The wizard in his impression was calm and sophisticated, and he was so embarrassed. Although there was no direct conflict between the two, he killed the chief, and this festival could not be solved in any way. What's next, the scrivener is a lot like knowing the answer.

After a while, the wizard finally opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was the scrivener box just a stone's throw away. As a wizard, he was so sophisticated that he immediately understood what was going on. An old face is cloudy. I wanted to say something a few times, but I didn't say it after all. The scrivener stared at each other expressionlessly, as if he wanted to see this old face thoroughly.

The wizard deliberately avoided the scrivener's gaze and turned his head away. A dense mass of roots floated by, wrapped in a corpse, with hideous features, I don't know how long I struggled before I died, but I didn't break free after all. The wizard's face was ugly, it was his people.

The root tendrils drift deeper into the cave, and the scrivener concludes that it is an underground river, but does not know the end. He deliberately kept a close distance from the wizard, who belonged to the territory of an indigenous tribe, and who might have the secret to escape.

From time to time, corpses floated by, and their bodies were covered with roots, and everyone had a violent struggle before they died, and they did not get rid of it after all. The scrivener secretly rejoiced that if it weren't for this scimitar, his fate would have been equally miserable. The wizard's face was extremely ugly, and the people who died were all his clansmen, the elites of the tribe, and such a loss was unbearable for the tribe.

In the distance, another mass of roots floated by, and the surface trembled slightly, as if there was something alive inside. The scrivener and the wizard are very excited, there are even survivors, and a full hour has passed since they fell into the water, is this still a person, and how great is the stamina.

Both of them were very sophisticated, and did not go over immediately, quietly observing their every move. It does look like a human in silhouette, the tremor is very faint, and it seems to be dying. The wizard was the first to swim over, and it was a great comfort to him that he did not save a single person.

The wizard tore the roots hard, but it was useless, the roots were very soft and capricious, and it was difficult for human power to tear them apart. He turned his head to look at the scrivener, a pleading look in his eyes for the first time. The scrivener swam past, the knife fell, and the roots were cut into pieces.

The wizard's face was complicated, he was very familiar with the scimitar, it was given to him by the tribe, and now it has become a life-saving weapon.

The roots were cut off, and the people inside were exposed. The wizard's face changed suddenly, and his gaze suddenly became fierce, revealing murderous intent. It turned out to be a Japanese inside, his skin was soaked in water and turned a little white, and unexpectedly he still had breath, and he could even struggle. This person's scrivener is very familiar, and it is the Japanese expert who has been guarding a cluster of flowers in a daze from beginning to end.

By the way, where did the flowers go? Is there some secret hidden? Of course, the scrivener does not think that it is an ordinary flower, and it does not think that the Japanese are here to enjoy the flowers.

The Japanese experts were very weak, and although they were rescued, they were already in a state of flux and could not recover for a while.

The scrivener stretched out a hand to hold the Japanese expert and prevent him from sinking. The wizard leaned over and grabbed the other's other arm. It can be seen from the scrivener that the wizard cares about the Japanese expert, and probably wants to get something out of it. And he's like an outsider, just extremely curious.

I don't know how long I floated in the water, the scrivener box couldn't hold on, the skin was swollen and white, and I would be tired to death if I continued like this. The situation of wizards is even worse, after all, age is there, and people in their sixties have long passed the peak of their bodies and may sink at any time. In that case, no one can help him, and the scrivener is now too busy to take care of himself, and is considering whether to let go of the Japanese experts, this guy is definitely a burden.

After drifting out for dozens of meters, the water slowed down and the river widened. With his feet at the bottom of the river, the wizard was the first to relax, he was already so exhausted that he would die in the bottom of the water even if he had three more minutes. He and the scrivener grabbed the Japanese expert and walked to the shallow water, and finally went ashore.

The moment the wizard came ashore, he lay on the ground, motionless, and his physical strength was exhausted to the extreme. The scrivener was half-seated against a rock, and he was in much better shape. There is still a glimmer of heaven overhead, and the devil is magical, seizing the heavens and the earth. But he'd seen it before, and he didn't care too much. He remembered that it was already afternoon when he first came in, and it was still daytime, so could it be that he had drifted all night? Maybe it's a psychological effect, thinking of a sleepless night, the feeling of sleepiness immediately swept over, and my eyes closed in a daze......

A strange sound came from the side, as if someone was whispering, but the sound was very short, much like swallowing back a word without saying it. The scrivener reacted from being half asleep and half awake, a habit formed over the years, he was a standard military man, and he always slept very lightly. Out of habit, he didn't get up right away, squinting at the other side.

The Japanese expert had woken up at some point and was crouching next to the wizard, carrying a stone in his hand. The scrivener understood, the stone had just been struck on the wizard's head. The poor wizard was sneak attacked by Japanese experts.

The scrivener was secretly surprised, he definitely didn't sleep for more than five minutes, and it would be such a coincidence that the Japanese expert woke up in this gap. Or is it that the other party is okay at all and has been pretending! The scrivener had a premonition of the seriousness of the matter, the Japanese expert was by no means as simple as it seemed, this guy was very deeply hidden, maybe he had woken up a long time ago, had been pretending, and used the efforts of others to get him ashore, he did not waste a trace of physical strength, but others were tired and half dead.

The scrivener had to re-examine the guy in front of him, hiding so deeply, he should be a terrible opponent. For the first time, the scrivener saw the Japanese experts as an adversary, and a formidable one.