I kissed my wife goodbye, leaned my spear on my shoulder, joined the others and left the village. Baidu search literature network, more good free reading. As the morning dawned diagonally through the dense Tukugul Forest, a group of six of us walked along a dilapidated dirt road to the outpost. We traveled lightly, for our sentry was only at the post for the next month, and then another spearman would take our place. Turkugul borders Noxus, and their recent growing belligerence has made the lords nervous, demanding that all their spears be sharp.

Our journey was short and uneventful, a soldier's dream. At the end of the half-day journey, we saw the fireworks signal raised from the outpost, and a faint column of beacon white smoke welcomed us. The companions were in a relaxed mood and chatted about their good brothers and neighbors. Although our duty is to look for signs of war on the frontier, war is still a very foreign concept to Tukugul.

When we arrived, we found that the gate of the fence was open and there was no barrier, but there was no sign of violent destruction. A strange sensation came over us, a chill beating down the back of our spine. The chill I could see in others was as real as what I felt myself.

We formed a small shield wall formation, three people in a row, two rows in front and two in front of and behind the camp, and we thought we would see signs of ruin and destruction in Noxus.

But there was no sign of anything.

The sight before us was no different from any outpost. The firewood burned out and only embers remained, and the cooking utensils on the pyre were filled with food. The clothes that had been hung up had not yet dried, and last night's lantern was still left on the pillar. We exchanged alert glances and looked at each other. It seems that our comrades have simply disappeared.

"How can this be like this?" Bell whispered. Our shield walls were stretched in a straight line and scattered to search the outpost for signs of life. Baidu search literature network, more good free reading.

"Are they being captured?" asked Orrick.

I was near the inner wall of the camp. A strip of wood was burned blacker than asphalt. I reached out, and as soon as my fingertips touched the scorched wood, it shattered into powder, revealing a ring of smooth wood pits. Others found similar traces throughout the camp, but no one could guess how they were left behind.

A roar made us immediately squat for battle. "Come on"

It was the voice of Arvern. We immediately ran to his place, where he was standing next to a corpse.

"It's Ho Ryan," he said, looking at us. "The cobbler's child."

The young man on the ground was pale and curled up like a baby. We don't see any traces of the battle on him, no blood, no wounds.

I pulled out my knife. Squatted down and placed the blade under Horain's nose. It was cold, and the frost left on the steel blade by the shallow breath reflected a slow, stiff rhythm.

"He's alive," I said, reaching out to lift his shoulder. As soon as I helped him to his back position, we all jumped out of the way at once.

Ho Ryan opened his eyes, but there was nothing in them. It seemed to us that he was still conscious, but his right eye was staring at the sky, dim.

That's not why we jumped away.

"The gods are above," Olek exclaimed. Japhern spat out a puddle of saliva to ward off evil spirits, and we all imitated him.

All that remains of Horain's left eye is a black hole. I've seen many battles in my life, and I know the marks left by swords, guns, and halberds, but as far as I know, no weapon can leave such wounds. The hole was too round and too smooth to fit the frenzy of battle. There was no painful look on the young man's face.

"What could make him like this," Bell asked, puzzled. "Beast or Plague"

Thinking of this, we couldn't help but take another step back. "No," Kail frowned, one hand subconsciously touching the bag containing the herbs and ointment hanging from his waist. "There was no sign of suppuration. This is not a disease. ”

"Find someone else," Bell ordered. "Hold on."

One by one, we found them. These are people we know, from our village, from fishermen and blacksmiths. All of them had the same wound in their left eye, and all of them collapsed into the same mental state. They looked very peaceful, and because of that, they looked even more terrifying.

Yavern looked at Bell. "What do we do"

"We have to give a warning," Olek said.

"What to warn people about," Kell asked. "We don't know what's going on here."

They quarreled. Their voices collide and overlap. But on top of all the sounds, I noticed a smell of smoke in the air.

"Wait."

The others stopped and looked back at me. I swallowed.

"If they're all like this," I said, gesturing to the fireworks behind me, "who lit the beacon?"

None of us reacted to what was happening, only to see Olek fly into the air. A dazzling flash of light made me unable to see anything, but I caught a glimpse of a large black shadow reflected in the flash. The air was filled with oaths, prayers, and curses spat out by comrades. But with a crackle like a whiplash, their voices all fell silent, followed by a terrifying scream.

When I could see again, I found myself on the ground.

I looked down and saw that my legs were spread out, broken. The other warriors, my brothers and friends, were staring at the sky overhead.

I could only hear one person's voice, so I turned my head away. I watched as the sixteen-year-old Fern struggled beneath the monster. He was bathed in a terrible purple light, and one of its limbs was buried in his eye, deep into his skull. His screaming stopped, and he became a shell like everyone else.

Then the monster cast a vicious gaze in my direction.

In an instant, it was hanging over me. I looked up at the bulging one-eyed eye and felt a hunger beyond imagination. This hunger is not a thirst for flesh, but something deeper. My soul is teetering on such a profound edge, and its relentless hunger is dragging me.

No.

I am Hannis Kedarn, I am a warrior, a spear of Tukugul. I refused to let it get my screams, even though its tentacles had pierced my eyes. I didn't feel any pain

Because it's my job. The process of analysis can also cause physical suffering, as much as I want, but it is not critical here. I've learned a lot about pain, and how to use it.

The object's information is precious, just as all knowledge is precious. A settlement, interconnected, a castle. A particular female individual, as well as the offspring of the subject, rejected my analysis of the contents of this section, but this problem was easily overcome.

There was nothing else to eat, and I came here to spread what I had gathered.

The deep valley below me is a conduit that is used to transmit information to the realm of reality. The creatures that inhabit this world name our realm the Void. The poetry of these entities is so wonderful, and the wonderful poetry is a reflection of how far my mission is from being accomplished.

The universe around me is full of knowledge, power, and distant lands, and I'm going to collect them all. Now, I give this information, and in the future, I will give all that remains.

Reception.

Engulf.

Learn.