Beneath the bell tower, the sharp shard of glass plummeted down, brushed the nose of an undead soldier, and plunged vertically into the ground. A big toe was neatly cut off from his foot, and he went out alone, looking at his brothers sadly.

The soldier felt as if something was missing from his feet, so he subconsciously stopped. In his eyes, the slightest injury to his foot was nothing, and it didn't even make him angry. He lowered his head and looked at his toes, then at the tower, his shriveled brain completely unaware of what was going on.

He froze for a few seconds, then gave up thinking and continued to rush towards the gate of the town hall under the push of the undead behind him.

Looking through the holes in the dial, Diego saw that hundreds of undead scourge were converging towards the town hall, and even on the battlefields in the north, there were undead soldiers retreating. It seems that the impact of the leader's death on the undead is greater than he had previously estimated.

Most of the undead scourge were ordinary soldiers, but there were a few robed ones in the mix, seemingly spellcasters such as warlocks or mages. Probably because of his slow movement, Diego hadn't seen the big abomination arrive, but a few eight-legged crypt demons staggered after the group. What is slightly relieving is that the Scourge Legion's meat grinders are all on the front line, and there is no time to withdraw in a hurry, so there is no risk that heavy weapons will blow down the town hall.

Just then, Diego hears the shouts of soldiers beneath his feet - the flames at the gate have finally been extinguished, and the undead have finally begun to attack.

Diego could have continued to shoot and set fires, but the inside of the town hall was almost completely sealed, and the continued burning of flames at the gate would inevitably cause a bellows effect, draining the oxygen inside, causing everyone inside to suffocate to death. That scene is terrifying to imagine!

The shouting at the end of the tunnel is getting louder and louder, and it is getting closer and closer, it is obvious that the undead scourge does not talk about any tactics, and relies on the simple and crude way of fighting in the crowd, but it is very effective, and the human beings are pressed back step by step, and they are about to retreat into the hall.

Diego pulled out five Type II improvised drop-off bombs from his demon bag and placed them on the floor in front of him. The original stock had been depleted, and these were the ones he had made after the Battle of Hearthvale, and if it weren't for the fact that Silver Dawn had too few solid explosives in stock, he could have done more.

He took the dwarven pipe out of his pocket, filled it with tobacco leaves, lit it, and took a hard puff. The tobacco leaves smoldered violently in the pipe, turning red like coals. He picked up an improvised bomb, put it on his pipe, lit it, and threw it down.

A few seconds later, a loud explosion rang out, and the glass in front of Diego trembled violently, as if it could break free from the shackles of the iron frame at any moment and flee. Self. by the bosom. A puff of smoke mixed with the smell of gunpowder poured into the corridor, and some even drifted into the air above the bell tower. Listening to the continuous coughing sound at his feet, Diego couldn't help but grin and laugh silently.

He looked down slightly, and the front of the gate was about ten meters in square area, all of which had been emptied, and even the stone bricks on the ground had been lifted away. Exposed in ochre-yellow soil, farther away, dozens of undead disasters lay radially outward, like farmland ravaged by a hurricane.

The undead scourge were not frightened by this sudden explosion, they had died once, and they were not afraid to die again. After a pause of just a dozen seconds, more undead scourge roared towards the gate.

Diego ignited an improvised bomb again and threw it into the densest area of the figure, with another violent explosion. Just as he was about to light the third bomb, a strong sense of crisis suddenly came over him, which was the wild instinct of long-term companionship with animal companions.

Diego subconsciously looked out the window.

Just a dozen yards away from him, a ball of purple energy was whizzing, and he could even clearly see that the skull condensed by shadow energy was shaking its jaw violently, eager to choose someone to devour.

"Bless me!"

Before he could dodge, Diego stretched out his left hand in front of him, and the power of the surging light erupted from his hand, converging into a shining shield.

The shadow skeleton slammed into the shield like water droplets falling into a boiling oil pot, and the two innate energy of mutual restraint fiercely eroded and annihilated each other, and from time to time golden and purple energy fragments burst out from the shield surface, like bright stardust. This duel between the Holy Light and the Shadow lasted only a few seconds, and the energy accumulated in the Shadow Arrow was exhausted, and it could no longer maintain its spell structure, and with a soft "pop", the hideous skeleton completely disintegrated.

Diego was secretly relieved. He hadn't mastered this sacred spell for long, and it was a bit unexpected for him to be able to cast it so smoothly this time. Generally speaking, the ability of the Holy Blessing Technique to resist spells was directly proportional to the power of the Holy Light consumed when it was cast, and he did not infuse too much energy into this spell in a hurry, and he did not have much confidence in his heart as to whether he could withstand this attack.

"But even if you get a shadow arrow in the middle, you won't necessarily die, right?" Diego muttered in his heart, but he immediately dismissed the thought, in the game of his previous life, a shadow arrow was not enough to kill, but Diego knew that the reality was probably not the case, the spells of the warlocks have always been known for being evil and weird, and no one knows what will happen if they are hit by their spells. You may be polluted by a small cloud of evil flames, a monster that is not like a human ghost or a ghost, or you may have a mental breakdown tossed by endless terrifying visions, and you may be squeezed out of your soul, and then tortured to death and come back to life. At the hands of these fallen spellcasters who are good at playing with their souls, death is far from the end of everything.

Diego raised his gun, intending to teach the assailant a hard lesson, but looking through the hole in the dial, he saw in the middle of the square, next to the crumbling stone fountain, a dozen robed Scourge casters were gathering together and looking in the direction of the bell tower. Apparently, they had already spotted him.

Invariably, the casters raised their hands and began to cast spells, the wonderful wheel of runes lingering and spinning between their fingers, and even from a few dozen yards away, Diego could feel the ever-expanding magic between their raised hands.

Diego subconsciously aimed at the gun, but before he could infuse the bullet with the power of holy light, a dozen or so various attack spells left the fingers of the casters and flew in the direction of the bell tower, from the ice blue ice arrows, the purple arcane missiles, to the green chaos arrows, the crimson soul fire, colorful, and so on, it was obvious that the Holy Blessing Technique could not stop so many spell bombardments!