Raising one knee on one side, she slipped her hands under the silk robe, tearing the foot-length robe from bottom to top, rolling up the rest and tying it together - fortunately, she wouldn't wear nothing under her robe, as some priests or mages do. There was also a sleeveless shirt at the bottom, the hem of the shirt was large enough to cover the ass and some unsightly parts, but the dwarf McGee shrugged her nose in dissatisfaction and ran away from Pastor Flo, of course, the human males could not see the overly beautiful spring light at their height, but the top of McGee's head was only up to Memi's buttocks. Gnomes are not interested in women outside of their own race, and they consider human or other types of women to be crude and filthy creatures, no match for the small and elegant of dwarf women.

The lich didn't pay much attention to Memmy and McGee, he followed the Mithril Serpent closely, in the smoky, dimly lit corridor, the luster of the metal was constantly changing and flickering, under the effect of the spell, it could be faster than the average male human running, if Cremar didn't have half elven blood in his body, he would definitely be as out of breath and embarrassed as the gnomes and priests who followed closely behind- On the way to the run, more than once they came across swords and arrows from the bends in the corridors, from the top of the corridors, or from the secret doors of the walls, or even from under the floors, if the attack was directed at the black-haired caster, then he might throw a spell to remove the obstacles in his path, but after a few times the thieves also realized the mystery, and instead they abandoned the caster who was in the front, and attacked the priest and the gnome who followed the caster, but if they thought they could pinch a soft persimmon, they were very wrong, and Memi had broken free from the initial panic, and her goddess was watching her。 And generously bestow her strength, she became sharp and strong, and although she didn't like to face people, that didn't mean she didn't have sharp fangs and claws—sometimes she didn't even need them, she might have cast a rudimentary magic spell to make her enemies hesitate and timid. Filled with fear, or ordered to fall to the ground- Even if it was only for a brief moment, it was enough for the dwarf McGee to lift up two small toy-like crossbows that he strapped to his arms and shoot at every enemy he could see, given the gnome's height limit and racial taste, he was almost always aimed below the waist, and he didn't need to hit the vital point (although some guys were a bit unlucky), because the hollow arrows as thin as large needles contained venom from the blue-ringed octopus, piercing into the skin and muscles. Based on the pressure, the venom will be injected into the body of the enemy on its own - the kind of beautiful little octopus that is shy by nature and will only intimidately emit a dazzling blue light when attacked, has venom that can poison a person with a little bit, although it will not die immediately, but the first thing that the person stung by it will be destroyed is the entire nervous system, and he will feel paralyzed, unable to speak, unable to move. Unable to breathe, although conscious. But only painfully and slowly suffocated to death.

McGee brought everything he could feel safe with him this time - adventure wasn't a dwarf would be a choice, but he had said he wanted to be a dwarf, and when Cremar and the others weren't there, he had to dress himself up as a dwarf, take off his jewelry, and not apply grease. Refusing silk and tulle, wearing a leather apron, barefoot, with a fake beard and sticky eyebrows, he deliberately spoke in a rough voice. But he also knew very well that these were not enough, just by looking at his people and those humans snickering all the time, so he continued to live away from his people and being isolated by them, he took every exquisite and luxurious ornament in the room, changed his mark (his original mark was a bird coiled with a delicate curly grass pattern), and created things from ornaments, chain mail, Elaborate knick-knick-knacks such as the pedestal of the rune disk were replaced with hammers and shields, and even if they were hated by the lord for this, they were exiled to the ordinary gnomes who had become skilled in making stoves.

But every night he dreamed back, the travelogues and poems he pressed under the bed, the parchment scrolls that he had flipped over and over again and so that the edges were torn and torn told him that dwarves were not like this, and if McGee had chosen to be a dwarf rather than a dwarf in the first place because of the indifference and indignation of his people, his heart had drifted uncontrollably towards the magnificent and beautiful stories since he had read the accounts of the adventurous life—was it? That's what a dwarf, or an intelligent creature who expects from himself, look at his people, what do they look like? They are indifferent to the Dragonfire Islands, or other things outside the Eastern Crown, or rather, the affairs of the islands have nothing to do with them, anyway, whoever rules the islands will need them to serve them, and the dwarves hate water, and even if they are plundered to the Dragonfire Islands, they will die quickly because of their stubborn temper and upright temperament, so who else? No, even a madman knows what it means to be an elf? Only the gnomes, these cheerful, selfish, and gorgeous little ones, whether they are favors or grudges, and can only leave a faint mark on their little hearts, will willingly kneel at the feet of mankind and exchange their skills for a so-called peaceful and prosperous life.

But that's not right!, McGee thought, and he frantically flipped through every piece of parchment, no, no gnome who had ever been recognized as a hero, and who could not even be an evil man who dared to confront the adventurers, and who had only the privilege of getting a few words at the end of some of the chapters, and if the writers of the poems had something better and more to write about, even those few words would have become a luxury.

Aren't gnomes stronger than dwarves? Since both his people and his parents used to contemptuously call dwarves "gophers," they should have been stronger than dwarves, and shouldn't those blood-boiling descriptions be used on dwarfs? Dwarves, countless dwarves!

McGee once wanted to join the ranks of the adventurers as a dwarf, but alas, the adventurers either laughed and taunted him and threatened him to kick him as a ball, in an attempt to make him a halfling substitute. Macgee had never left the Dragonfire Islands, but he knew that the halflings had never played the role of thieves or liars, and some adventurers had made false promises, but the ultimate goal was to get some free weapons and equipment from him first—they had also spoken of dwarves, and they were talking about dirty, rude, and violent "gophers" The eyes and tone of their eyes and mouth are completely different from those spoken of by the gnomes, although they often curse the dwarves, who are always very good at preaching justice and justice with their hammers, but this is completely different, and the dwarves make them fearful. Let them be admired and respected (even if it does not prevent them from slitting the throat of a dwarf if possible), and the gnomes will only disgust and despise them, even if the gnomes are quite dangerous at certain times - if the metaphor is to be realistic, the difference between the two is like that of a boar and a skunk, a hunter who can do his part in rounding up a boar can make him brag about it for days in the tavern, but if he catches a skunk alone - it is also dangerous. It's tough, but a lot of the time. Hunters are even ashamed to mention that one of their prey once included a skunk.

Then I'll be a dwarf, McGee thought, but before Cremar and the others came to the Dragonfire Islands, he could only pretend to be a dwarf, not really become a dwarf, and it was Cremar's companions who gave McGee hope. They didn't think it was ridiculous for a dwarf to want to be a dwarf, and they didn't treat him differently because of it, which was fine, and McGee liked it.

But it wasn't just that that drove McGee to follow them out of the Dragonfire Islands - the "artists" brought by McGee's fiancée were arrested as soon as McGee and her left him, and he was only let go because of an order from Lord Cremar, who had learned of the mutation from Grand Duke Luzel's Hawk, and he and Kerry had rushed from Grey Ridge to Fort Cape in a winged ship. He also teleported from the Pitney Fortress to the side island, and after only a short stop, he rushed from the side island to the Pillage Fortress and transferred to the White Tower. McGee insisted on joining them to rescue Berdwin and the princess Leona, and he was able to be released because of Lord Cremar's trust in them, but he knew that trust alone would not free him and his fiancée from their previous crimes, and even if they did not betray and betray their new master, it was already a complete mistake to bring the enemy to Baldwin and the others by mistake, and it was not a matter of moving his tongue or offering a precious jewel or two to make amends. He offered his strength, his wisdom and his life.

He doesn't like his fiancée, but McGee knows that the whole thing starts with a female dwarf trying to win the favor of her future husband. If he could play a role in this operation, then he would be able to ask their new lord for his forgiveness, and McGee had a slight ambition - if he could show his strength, would he be able to earn a place in their future ranks?

The problem is, he thought he was ready, but when he was there, he knew that he was never prepared enough.

As he ran down a hallway, the floor under his feet suddenly collapsed, and he heard the priest of Frow screaming, her feet shaking right before his eyes, and he stretched out his hands and grabbed the beautiful satin shoe with pearls, but it was too slippery for his hands to focus, and the dwarf's fingers pierced between Memie's instep and toes, and Flo's priest let out a groan of pain uncontrollably- Groan, she walked in front of the gnome, and when the ground collapsed, she quickly jumped forward, throwing her upper body above the floor, her fingers scratching at the floor, her nails cracked, but she didn't dare to let go anyway, Glenn described to her what kind of traps thieves often set in their guilds, like this collapsed floor under which either the tar was stored or the clay jar full of acid, she tried to climb up, but there was still a dwarf hanging from her feet, the weight and height of the dwarf were no different from a three- or four-year-old child, but at this time, Memy felt that he was heavier than a lead-cast giantBut she didn't even dare to kick him down with her legs and feet, she was almost at the limit - she tried to pray for a magic spell to make herself powerful or fly, but she only spoke a few words in fits and pieces before she knew that she would never finish the prayer before falling, and Mei Mi called the black-haired spellcaster instead, but to her despair, the caster didn't seem to be aware of the problem behind her.

McGee tilted his head and looked down, only an inch or two from his toes was a calm, translucent yellow-brown liquid, they were stored in a huge clay jar, seemingly undisturbed, but the gnomes could smell the sour smell that made him shiver all over, the gnomes were not uncommon to see all kinds of acids and other corrosive solutions, after all, these things were often used in jewelry and weapons, he closed his eyes, swallowed a mouthful of saliva, endless remorse and fear hit his heart, yes, he regretted it, why did he come hereHe was just a dwarf, and even if he wanted to be a dwarf, he could have lived as peacefully and comfortably as a dwarf dressed as a dwarf, instead of hanging from the feet of a priest of Flo, waiting for himself to fall into the acid and struggle to die in great pain, and even a part of his body might not be able to remain. No, he didn't want to die, McGee cried silently, clutching at Memmie's foot almost in frenzy, blood running from his fingers to his arm, Flo's priest cursing, or swearing, or pleading, McGee couldn't hear him, screaming sharply as the foot shook and fell, his boots soaked in acid, which flowed into the corroded pit, soaking and devouring his toes.

But the momentum of the fall was stopped, and McGee was pulled up like a crab with a fish's tail between them, and he was kicked the moment he was thrown to the floor, and then a cold touch woke him up, "Let go," said the thief Glenn, the silver rope that had lifted Memmy and the gnome out of the collapsed hole and climbed up his waist along his boots, and after two spins there, he paused, "or I'll cut off your hand." ”

The thief's tone was colder than the blade of the blade that brought the dwarf to his senses, and he shook his body from side to side to pull his fingers from under Memi's feet, which were already stiff.

"How?" asked Gülen, not McGee, of course.

"A healing thing. Memi gasped, her face twitching slightly from the pain in her fingers and feet. (To be continued.) )