Dinen breathed heavily.

The hot air was filled with smoke from the burning of furniture that had been used as barricades, and the smell of burnt corpses was getting stronger. On more than one occasion, he heard someone behind him coughing and retching, and eventually had to be replaced by someone else. But he didn't care. All Dinnin could feel was the weight of the hilt in his hand, and he held it as firmly as if he were grasping his own life, eagerly meeting every figure that staggered close from the flames. He didn't even care if he had gone too far into the line. He had a sword in his hand, and he could—he must—take care of himself.

The clear thought was just a flash of thought, and then it swirled again like dust flying out of the flames and scattered in all directions. He didn't think about it anymore. In fact, he doesn't think about anything anymore. He was immersed in the brief victories that followed each fell, in the smooth rhythm of footsteps, heartbeats, and arms flexion, and in the pure and direct ecstasy. It is based on destruction, on the fact that it is still alive, and on the fury and hatred that has finally been released.

Someone shouted his name, and the sound passed through the smoke and dust, but also through the mist swirling in his head. Dineen woke up suddenly, and it took a brief moment to determine when and where he was. He stepped over the stacks of corpses and stepped back, the ranks of militiamen trying to make way for him, Dinen raised a hand to signal them to stay in formation, and then climbed over the barricade on one side to the rear of the battle line.

"How?" He asked, with a slight exhaustion and unhappiness at being forced to withdraw from the fight.

Gianna also looked a little tired, and the task of assisting the defense of the three streets alone was definitely not easy: "Kenrito's reinforcements. ”

She gestured to her side. The five mages stood there, neatly robed, and looked at him with strange eyes. But Dinen didn't bother to pay attention.

"Only a few?"

"Everyone who can come is here. Everyone else has their own tasks. This is the result of Gianna's early greeting. The number of formal mages is already very small, and most of them are tasked with difficult and lengthy tasks that they cannot get out of. Mage apprentices are difficult to use in battle, as they are not safe enough for themselves until they have completed their training.

Dineen grunted, unable to complain more. Today, Kenrito is still working on training seekers, and their apprentices are better at research than combat. It was only during the war years that the kind of battle mage who went through short, intense training and then went straight to the front to join the army appeared.

"Go to the roof." He said directly to them, "Any spell will do, separate the undead, and when you receive the signal, ignite the flammable, and take care to control the fire." One person on one street, and the rest ready to rotate while keeping an eye on the necromancer. Still have questions? ”

They clearly had a problem with his attitude. But before anyone could speak, Gianna cleared her throat loudly.

"Don't worry," she said, "they're well trained and experienced enough to handle the situation here." ”

Her compliments made the mages' faces look better, though someone glared at Dinen as they left. But Dinein, who was busy grabbing a passing militiaman and ordering him to bring the news to the commander on every street, completely missed the point. When he turned around, all he could catch was Gianna's furrowed eyebrows.

"What's wrong again?"

Gianna looked at him and sighed. The look on her face reminded Dineen of his partner, and Tirio. He never understood why they looked at him that way.

"I'm guessing you don't know how bad you look right now." She said, waving her hand to summon a cloud of water, "Before we go, at least wash your face?" ”

Dineen stared at the water balloon floating in mid-air. The reflection in the water was so distorted that he could barely find his face, and judging by the color, it wasn't good. He washed his face and hands perfunctorily, then spent the rest on cleaning up his weapon. He wiped the stains off the blade, inspected the damage, and replaced the sweat-wicking cloth wrapped around the hilt. There is no weapon oil or whetstone now, but he will make up for this step later.

Gianna found a towel to stuff him before he tried to dry the water with his sleeve, and waved her hand again. The discolored water balloon unfolds into a miniature water element. It glanced at Dineen reproachfully with those tiny eyes, and spat a few hard chunks of mud at his feet.

Dinein's wiped hand paused, and looked up at Gianna.

"I'm guessing it's elemental social etiquette?" He casually threw the towel onto the nearby truck and put his sword back in its sheath. When it's all over, someone will clean up the mess, but no one cares about the details now.

Gianna shrugged her shoulders and dissolved the water elemental that had returned to its original color: "This is called coming and going. ”

"Fair enough." Dineen agreed.

He saw that the mage was puffing out his cheeks and chewing a piece of jerky, so he reached into his pocket and reached for two pieces of milk gummies and handed them to her. Judging by the feel, they have melted to the ground in the heat, but there is nothing else to be found fault with other than the shape. So Gianna's caution when taking the candy was completely unnecessary.

"Albert bought it." He declared. Dinen discovered early on that when it comes to everyday chores, it always seems better to convince others by taking oneself out of the decision-making process, and in military action it is the other way around," he gave to the boys as a reward. ”

"So what did you do that deserves to be rewarded?"

Dinen looked at her fiercely: "Do I look like I can't reach the sugar jar on my own?" ”

Gianna pursed her lips and smiled as if she was doing her best.

"I'd love to meet your partner if I had the chance."

Dinen snorted, wondering why people couldn't just talk straight instead of going back to communicate with the people around him. But it's really better to let them communicate on their own: "Whatever you want." ”

***

After packing up, they headed in the direction of the city. The streets were still crowded, and people were hurrying in with the supplies they had collected; Someone carried the wounded away, spilling blood along the way; Someone was empty-handed, pale, and dragged passers-by around to inquire about the news. There has been a lot less shouting and talking, more crying and muttering prayers. For themselves, for the wounded, and for those who are now enemies.

Gianna bit her lip, not daring to look around. She glanced at Dineen and saw that he had a terrifying look and a fire in his eyes. None of them spoke, but they all quickened their pace.

After leaving the neighborhood, things have only improved slightly. It's no longer so common for people to cry in the streets, but everyone is scared. The whole city was already shrouded in a sudden haze. Shops and windows are closed, and people wander the streets outside their homes in fear, not knowing what to be wary of. Parents hold their children tightly by their side and anxiously inquire about the situation with passers-by, for fear of missing any news. Some shouted about the Silver Hand evacuating the people around the cemetery, and others whispered about the horror and despair near the barracks. One of the pieces of information caught their attention - the sheriff had sealed off the central area. No one came out of there, and those who managed to sneak in didn't come back.

A man who looked like a craftsman began to loudly scold the nobles for being greedy for life and afraid of death, abandoning them, and only thinking of sitting in a safe place and waiting for the crisis to end. Gianna approached Dinen and asked in a low voice of approval, "What do you think?" ”

Dineen's lips twitched slightly, and it looked like he wanted to smile, but to no avail. He glared at the rioters with a cold look in his eyes: "It should be the most unsafe area in the entire city right now. ”

They walked through the residential area to the middle of the city. The main road is empty, and no one wants to be too far from home when the crisis hits. Occasionally, a few pedestrians are also fast-paced, startled, and try to distance themselves from others, as if they could be targeted by a dozen serial murderers if they stay on the street for a few more moments.

The gates in the central area have been lowered and are firmly locked by heavy chains. There was no one watching, perhaps they thought that would be enough. Dinen turned to look at Gianna and gestured to the street across the gate, "Go straight over." ”

Gianna nodded. Although she was able to undo the lock with ease, no one knew what the Cursed Cult was planning, and there were already hordes of undead running around behind the door. It's not a good idea to put them out.

Teleportation felt like being forcibly pulled through a narrow pipe, and it was never comfortable. When their senses regained, they were already standing on the street behind the gate. The well-directed breeze sent a disgusting scent that was so faint that Gianna could hardly tell what it was coming from, but it definitely didn't bode well.

Dinen wrinkled her nose in disgust, her eyes tightening. He turned his head sideways, and he heard and smelled, reminding Gianna of the hound with his ears pricked up: "Follow me." ”

They moved quietly along the streets, hiding themselves as much as possible with the help of clutter and blind spots. Gianna asked Dinen to bother leading the way, while she observed her surroundings. There are no people in the houses along the way, except for the crooked gates that are crumbling. She stopped and looked inside. The courtyard was littered, flower pots and shelves had been smashed to pieces, and the well-groomed lawn was now a mess, the dirt was turned upside down, the blood was stained, and the trails of drag stretched staggered to the doorway.

"The Cult of the Damned has taken everyone here." She whispered to Dineen. The latter waved his hand without looking back, signaling that he knew, and with a turn of his footsteps, he broke into a nearby house. He walked straight up the steps, through the open door, through the messy hallway, and through the window of the room. Gianna reluctantly followed him, and at the same time prepared to jump out of the closet from which there might be a lucky homeowner.

After all, it didn't happen. They passed through several houses in one go, and the sounds outside became more and more noisy. Humans were crying, screaming, cursing and yelling, and sometimes the roar of beasts. With the cover of the building, they are safe, but they need to be extra cautious when passing through doors and windows. Dinen stopped at the last window and motioned for Gianna to hide here with him. The mage carefully pushed aside the clutter on the floor, hid under the window, and looked out under the cover of the curtains.

They were facing a square, much smaller than the one in front of the church, with only a few benches surrounding a fountain, and the open space left around it was paved with stone slabs. A small group of people huddled in the corners of the square, guarded by a dozen deformed beasts. The monsters paced around the crowd with saliva, yelling at them from time to time. And at the other end of the square -

"Demons!" Gianna gasped.

"Dreadlord." Dineh, who was leaning against the window, corrected her softly, "Don't be stupid and staring. ”

Gianna looked to the side. There were a few people standing next to the demon, and she recognized one of them as Rivendell, and behind him were several local nobles and their guards, and these conspirators stayed a little further away from the demon with trepidation. The rest are black-robed cultists, driving the undead and deformed beasts to force an unfortunate captive out of the crowd.

The Dreadlord turned to him, his massive bat-like wings spread out slightly. The mere action scared the man to the ground, muttering something in his mouth. The demon's massive claws grabbed at him in the air, and a dark green light was drawn from the human. The victim only had time to scream and fell silent, and the demon swung the energy in his hand to the side, and a dark green circle of light spread out in the air.

"They're building portals." She whispered, staring more closely. Ordinary teleportation spells are not as expensive as most people think. The difficulty is precision. Accurately grasp the target and distance, build a stable spell model, and then seize the moment to cross the space. Like through a stream of water, the faint traces are gradually smoothed out by time and space.

What she witnesses today is a radical departure from Kenrito's traditional approach. The demon violently tore open a stable space-time, opening a crack that was difficult to recover, and the disordered energy overflowed from the void like an invisible and colorless tongue of fire, scorching everything around it. The slabs shattered, the hedges withered to ashes, and the air crackled softly. Through the twisted ripples inside the door, a white ice field can be faintly seen.

Gianna counted the number of captives, silently calculating in her mind, her expression pale from the answer she had reached: "God, if they sacrifice everyone here, they can even teleport an army over!" We've got to stop them now! ”

It sounds like a fantasy to do it just the two of them. But even Dinen couldn't tell when the Silver Hand would be able to get here. If they just sat back and waited and watched everyone get killed - no, Gianna couldn't stand this. They must act now before everything becomes irretrievable.

Compared to her excitement, Dineen just stared calmly at the square. His lips twisted into a cruel smile, but his eyes were as cold as predators.

"Let's go."