There are thousands of archers in the Zephyr Continent, and half of them are the elves.

This is not bragging.

With the advantage of talent, almost everyone of the elven adventurers is a shooter, and there are not a few who shoot flies in a thousand steps and a hundred meters.

The elven race, which originally had so many archers, should be very popular with goblin craftsmen.

However, the reality is that there are not many goblin craftsmen in Moonlight City, and there are even fewer goblin craftsmen who make guns in Moonlight City.

The reason is simple, although the elves are good at shooting, they are keen on bows and arrows, not guns.

That's why when I see the elf holding the revolver, my eyes light up.

The elven archer with the revolver in his hand walked briskly to the blindfolded elf and stood side by side with him.

The latter groaned slightly, took a step back, gave up his position, and gave him a play.

The shooter pinched the brim of his hat, bowed slightly, and the corners of his lips were hooked at the same time, and he returned an eye-catching smile.

Then his left hand reached into the robe, and he took out a revolver from the back of his waist, buckled it on his index finger and turned it twice, and the muzzle of the gun rushed up, and his thin lips exhaled softly above the muzzle, posing as if he had no friends.

At this time, the army of vines was still three meters away from him, and it only took two breaths to rush in front of this handsome and handsome gunman and tie him up as a hot dog.

It was too late, but it was too fast, and the shooter stretched out his arms, and a pair of muzzles were aimed at the sweeping vines at the same time, and the power of fading suddenly bloomed, enveloping his whole body.

In an instant, he transformed into a handsome, handsome and glowing elf archer, and his eye-catching ability suddenly increased by 200%.

With the pull of the trigger, bullets encased in magic and wrapped in fading power roared towards the army of vines.

The moment it touched the vines, the bullet exploded, bursting out with bursts of white light, and after the white light, there were also small-scale magic releases such as heat wave scorching and frost freezing.

After a burst of output, the menacing vines were temporarily blocked in place, and the bullets in the shooter's revolver happened to run out.

I saw that his hands were slightly wrong, and he pinned the revolver to his waist, and then leaned in, took out two other revolvers, stretched out his arms, and continued to fire.

Another meal was as fierce as a tiger, and dozens of vines were crippled by him like this.

Even so, the tree man was still not false, and with a roar, more than 100 vines up and down Zhou's body rushed over like a flood beast.

This time, it did its best, vowing to fight to the death with the guys who had repeatedly blocked it from eating!

More than 100 vines is not a small number.

The blindfolded elf has a maximum of a dozen vines at a time, and the instantaneous output power of the mage elf is not as much as that of the blindfolded elf, and the archer elf is very sad that there are no bullets, and he is feeling the bullet from his pocket and loading it into the gun magazine.

He reloads quickly, but not as fast as the vines move.

Seeing that the vines that are like a flood are about to press forward, I can't help but feel sad, if there is even a trace of strength left, I can rush forward, and fight to the death with these vines, at the very least, I can block a block, give them time to save me, and in this way, I can also minimize the loss.

However...... I lifted my arm, which was still weak, and sighed weakly.

"Hey, stinky boy," Da Taidao said, "Do you really think they don't have a chance to turn the tables?" Don't underestimate these guys! Since they can farm monsters at this level, they must have the ability to protect themselves. ”

Da Taidao's words gave me hope, and I stared at the few people in front of me, expecting a miracle.

Will a miracle come?

Maybe.

But in reality, they don't need miracles at all, and they can get through the difficulties in front of them.

Because—they still have companions who haven't made a move, I just didn't know before.

A steady-walking elf walked up to several people.

He was as handsome as the other companions, but his stature was stronger than the others.

The strong ones are even a bit exaggerated.

Each arm was almost as thick as my thighs, and the muscles on them were raised high and bulging like a slightly quivering mountain.

And he was not just simply strong, his bare arms were also slightly tinged with red mist, like blood, but not as bright and frightening as blood.

Is that...... Another fading force?

Frowning slightly, I stared, thinking.

This adventurer was very different from the previous shooter momentum.

The shooter loves to show and play handsome, and with his excellent appearance and free and easy temperament, it is even more eye-catching.

The later adventurer was like the eve of a rainstorm, silent and gloomy, making people feel uncomfortable from the bottom of their hearts.

Moreover, I could smell a similar smell from him, and it was...... The peculiar taste of crazy militants.

He walked briskly to about two meters in front of the group, his thick arms slowly raised, and he grasped the giant sword pinned to his waist.

I was amazed at the size of the greatsword.

It is the same length as a two-handed greatsword, but it is four times as wide as them, and the blade is extremely thick, which can not only hurt people with the blade, but also kill opponents with weight.

It can be described as a complete killer.

Not only that, but it is also a rare big killer.

The reason why it is rare to see is that very few goblins can build weapons of this level, and it is often those who are strong dwarves who can build weapons of this level.

Dwarves have an unusually high demand for weapons and destroy and reforge them if anything doesn't suit them.

Because of this, they need more than twice as many materials to forge a weapon as craftsmen of other races.

The quality is absolute, but the high price is prohibitive.

Having built a weapon but no one buying it is the greatest sorrow of any craftsman.

Because of this, dwarven craftsmen rarely forge greatswords of this caliber in order to secure their income, unless specifically requested and pay a large deposit.

Look at this giant sword, the sharp blade, the exquisite carving, all prove that it is from the hand of a celebrity, and more likely from the hand of a master.

By analogy, I can be sure that this adventurer, with exceptionally strong arms, must have been very wealthy.

With the greatsword in hand, he tilted his head slightly, took a deep breath, and then, a reddish light precipitated from his pores, wrapped his arms, and covered the blade of the greatsword.

With a low shout, he was originally silent and indifferent, as if he had instantly turned into an angry lion!

His eyes were red, and his dark green hair was windless, and at the same time, the smell of madness that had loomed before suddenly became stronger.

That's right, this man, like me, will be excited and crazy because of the fight!

Unconsciously, my body trembled slightly, and a force, like a clear stream, slowly spread from the center of my chest, and soon spread throughout my entire body.

What's going on?

I wondered: Could it be because someone with a similar personality appeared and ignited the raging fighting intent in my body, thus stimulating my combat potential?

(End of chapter)