In the Tertiary period of Eladia in 1636, the Nest of the Black Wings still attracts adventurers who are keen to seek death, after all, there are not many famous foreign power groups that can be contacted from the Northland countries now, and the only things that people can see in their eyes are the Nest of the Black Wings and the Elven Forest (the Mostel Flying Ape Clan is in a friendly state with the Northland Kingdoms).

Due to the closed ecology and kindness of the Elven Forest, only the slave hunters will go to that place, and the truly serious and ambitious adventurers will regard the Blackwing Lair as their first target.

Over the past three years, there has been a widespread misconception that the Blackwing's Lair has many monsters and riches, and now, there are merchants who are selling more detailed things like the "Blackwing's Lair Topographic Blueprints".

All of this is due to the knowledge that there is a dragon living there, and that dragons mean magic and treasure to humans.

Although the Blackwing Clan's methods of dealing with adventurers have always been ferocious and violent, those skulls hanging on the edge of the green field not only did not scare the adventurers, but they were even more turbulent. (Blackwing Clan: The collective name for all the dependents of the Black Dragon.) ）

Everyone dreams of slaying dragons, as if as soon as they enter that place, they will immediately take fame and wealth into their arms, not only to slaughter the owner of the Blackwing Nest, but also to pick up two dragon eggs and raise them by the way, becoming a dragon trainer and worry-free for the rest of their lives.

No one seems to have thought about it: it is true that there are countless five-colored dragons that have been slaughtered in Eladia, but the ones who have died the most will always be those so-called dragon slayer warriors.

However, the current situation is also related to the fact that the legendary "Dragon King" has never appeared in the public eye, although the rumors of the Northland countries are vividly depicted, but to this day, no one can pat their chests and promise to see its true face, and can clearly explain its size, strength, magic and nature.

This uncertainty not only stimulates people's curiosity, but also contributes to the luck of adventurers, many people suspect that the dragon has been seriously injured in the battle with the poisonous mother, and is in a desperate situation such as lingering and dying, waiting for a brave man favored by the gods to go up and slaughter it with a knife, so as to enter the high society, and be sought after by noble ladies and ladies.

This is a common routine in bard poetry, and people are deeply affected by it.

Of course, the adventurers are not all delusional fools, and there are also some groups with real strength and experience, such as the current group of twenty-five.

They came from the central free trade city-states, and spent three months gathering intelligence and weapons in the Northlands before they finally set out for the lair of the Black Wings.

Now, these men have begun to scout and record their route from the green fields to the Blackwing's Lair, and the experienced thieves estimate that if the terrain is as described on the map on the market, it will only take about a day to reach the core of the Blackwing's Lair without making a big noise, of course, without being attacked and harassed by the Blackwing Clan.

However, the result was almost certain: they were lost.

None of the maps circulating in the Northland countries are not fakes, and so far, there are very few people who have come out alive after entering the nest of Black Wings, and the only exception is the few small nobles who were caught and ransomed, and the little nobles will definitely keep silent about it, and even want to forget this memory, but they don't have the face to make maps and sell them.

"Hell, these northerners are so hateful."

Gray spat fiercely, brushed aside the thorns covered with thorns in front of him, and cautiously poked out half of his body: "These damn guys, let them all be captured by demons, even the guys who can make up exploration drawings don't deserve to live." ”

"Without a word, we should have thought that there is not even a guild like the talk point in this place, and those snakes and scorpion ants will naturally come out."

Soratu leaned against the tree on his right and said, "Seriously, if we are lucky enough to see that black dragon, we really don't know how to fight, and the information we have collected is estimated to be uncountable." ”

"That's it."

After a few glances over the corner, Gray shrank back, a tall, muscular man, armed with a broadsword with a single blade, a warrior who patrolled the camp once it was stationed.

The warrior sat down, took a piece of bacon from his pocket, took two bites, and said to his companion, "I heard that it is an old black dragon, we have never hunted a fellow of this age before, and this place is its lair; Hey, do you know how wizards arm their mage towers with magic? I guess dragons are the same. ”

"It's different."

Soratul's expression has always been solemn and his speech is very sharp, this guy calls himself a ranger, but in fact he is a thief, acting as a scout and assassin on the team: "There are not so many servants in the mage tower. ”

The two of them touched the darkness, walked and stopped patrolling around, and used small talk to drive away the fatigue of the continuous invasion, Gray looked at the tent with a burst of snoring sound, and suddenly asked, "Hey, miss, I think the captain should not really want to slay the dragon, right?" ”

Of course, Soratu is not a woman, but this guy looks thin, and he likes to go around when he fights, and he always has to hide behind his back to make tricks, so he is affectionately called Miss by the people in the group.

"Of course not."

Sorathu, who was accustomed to it, didn't take it seriously, and then said to his companion: "You didn't see it...... What is it! ”

In the middle of his sentence, the thief shouted loudly and sounded the alarm.

In the surrounding darkness, countless fine red points of light suddenly appeared, and the sleeping team members quickly turned up, picked up the weapons they were already holding in their hands, and looked at the four directions vigilantly.

The camp has been surrounded.

Grinning, the gnolls emerged from the darkness, wielding a uniform hammer in their hands, most of them wearing light armor, staring greedily at the humans in the encirclement, sticky saliva streaming down their mouths.

"Gnolls?"

The leader of the team walked out of the tent, looked at the number of gnolls around, breathed a sigh of relief, and then frowned: "It's not much, but why are these guys still wearing armor?" Same with humans. ”

He even suspected that he was mistaken, the gnolls were the most greedy and murderous race, they basically did not communicate with other intelligent species, and their own abilities were limited, even the most rudimentary light armor could not be made by these guys.

Where did these gnolls get their armor?

Genius one second to remember the address of this site:. Mobile version reading URL: m.