The priest of the mountain tribe was in a state of fury and fear, and he found himself in a wasteland of dust and wind—he looked up at the sky, which was a sticky black, with no stars or clouds, and he looked down at the ground, where there was only white dust like ashes, and the wind blew on him like a jagged knife cutting through his skin. He was cold and hungry www.biquge.info he lifted his hand to find that he had lost his crutches and his clothes, and he trembled like never before, and looked around with all his might, looking for traces of his companions or enemies, but no matter how he looked, the eyes that had previously been able to find the traces of a lemming rat a thousand feet away seemed to be shrouded in a fog, and several shadowy images passed by the edge of his field of vision, and then quickly disappeared.

He didn't know how long he had walked, but the priest hid himself almost instinctively when he heard the sound of a heavy carriage speeding by, and though it was almost impossible, for he was still a frost giant of great size, and there was not even a stone larger than the palm of his hand in the wasteland, but he was fortunate that before the driver of the carriage and the hunters in the carriage could spot him, a swift and graceful figure caught their attention, and they reversed course and eagerly pursued him. Their cries were heard in the wind, and the sound mingled with the wind, almost indistinguishable from the wind, but everyone who heard them shuddered involuntarily - and what a carriage it was! It looked three times larger than the open-top cart that humans loved, and was assembled of all sorts of bones, between which were indescribable glue, looking like half-congealed blood and rotting entrails, except for the wheels of black iron, on which were one or more broken limbs fixed to the spokes, and the carts were dragged by nightmares that spewed smoke from their mouths and their feet were flaming nightmares, and at the mercy of them was a black-green humanoid monster with a wolf's face like a peeled skin, his lips and nose pulled forward like a long kiss, his eyes shining evil yellow in the dim light, and his hands hanging to the groundThe legs and feet are twice as long as those of humans, and they are folded backwards like birds, their fingers and toes are stretched out like branches, they have sharp claws, and they are especially deserved, they are covered with thorny spikes, hairless heads, arms, legs and knees, from the spine to the tip of the tail, which rise and fall with some rhythm that is incomprehensible to ordinary people.

The carriage didn't go far, and the hunters crouching on the carriage (who looked like a white mantis with a fat belly) caught their prey, a beautiful human female, a giant "praying mantis" They mercilessly stabbed her in the abdomen with the spears in their hands, pierced her through and lifted her up and threw her to the carriage, only then did the priests of the frost giants find that the carriage was full of humans, orcs, and a giant at the bottom, but they all looked dying and had no strength to fight against these marauders, and some even had distorted and blurred faces, stuck to the body of the carriage, and even had a tendency to assimilate, if the "praying mantis" When they discover the latter, they use their spears to separate the wagon from the body of their prey, and the whole process is bloodied and wailing.

Just as the priest wanted to go further, the spiking-covered rider seemed to have spotted another prey—a man with a calm demeanor suddenly appeared in the dust, shining like a jewel, but before the carriage could be restarted, after a moment of confusion, he rushed in one direction without a moment's hesitation, and as far as the priest seemed to that place was no different from any other place, but after a gentle breeze wrapped in the moonlight, the human suddenly disappeared.

The trappers were visibly indignant, brandishing their arms and spears, frantically torturing their prey, and the priest saw the human woman's head roll to the ground, but it was able to blink and weep, as well as move its lips, after a "praying mantis" picked it up and hung it on the tip of the spear.

The priest suddenly understood.

He is dead, and this is the wasteland of mourning through which almost all the dead must pass, where devout believers can be guided and sheltered by the gods, but the degenerate, unbelievers and hypocrites can only roam the wasteland in a daze, and only two paths await them, as the priests have just seen, to be captured by the hunters of the bottomless abyss, sent to the demons or demons to squeeze every ounce of energy out of their souls, and then to be transformed into maggots-like demons in the depths of the bottomless abyss, or to become an ugly ornament on the walls of the Eternal City built by Kranvo, the god of death。

The priest of the Giant Mountain tribe did not even know when he came to the god of death, Kranvo, who, as described in the legend, maintained his human appearance, body shape, and clothing. A weather-beaten, ravine-staggered face, dressed in the usual leather coat and chain mail of a warrior, and half draped in a dark black cloak, he ruled that the priest was a hypocrite, and his soldier grabbed the frost giant's shoulders, knowing that he would be fixed to the wall, rotting and forgotten for a long time, but that there was no way he could be freed with a bone the size of a finger.

"No," he cried, "no, this is an unjust verdict! I am a priest of Kavula, a follower of the great and mighty orc god. ”

"If you are a devout believer," said the just Cranvo, "why then have you not heard your gods calling and calling out to you?"

"Perhaps the venerable Kawuha is drinking the blood of an enemy," said the priest slyly, "the blood of the enemy is the richest wine, if only give me a little ......more time."

"Then we might want to ask about the orc god Kawuha. Kranvo said, his voice low but echoing through the majestic halls.

Then, perhaps the next moment, an image that had been offered countless times by the priests was projected into the halls of Kranvo, who looked like an orc who was a little impatient, but taller than the Frost Giant, his fangs protruding from his lips like a boar, and his skin taking on a strange and strange turquoise, and he was covered from his head to his ankles a set of old, jet-black black iron armor, scarred and scars in the center of the helmet, from which a twinkling eye could be seen。

"Do you recognize this frost giant as your believer, your priest, your follower?" asked Cranvo.

The priest looked over hopefully, but Kawuha just glanced at him boredly: "No, I don't have such a priest. ”

The priest shouted, but the projection of Kawuha was gone, and before Kranvo could give another order, the priest shouted again, "Urutiru," he cried, "Urutiru, all the frost giants are his people, call him here, call him here, he will surely recognize me." ”

"If that's what you want. Klanwo said.

The projection of another god appeared in the temple of the god of death, with more frost giant features on his face and body, but the atmosphere surrounding him was much calmer and more stable than Kawuluxe, his eyes were like the eternal night sea in the sun, although cold, but full of vitality, he held a cane, but compared to the priest's cane, this piece of wood cut from the birch tree had no decoration, and it looked unremarkable, and the same was true of Urutiru's clothes, just an ordinary white robe, and his feet were **** , he is more like a scholar with a white beard than a warrior.

"Do you recognize this frost giant as your believer, your priest, your follower?" said Kranvo, repeating the previous question.

Urutirus glanced at the Frost Giant's priest, perhaps as brief as the one before Kawuha, but the priest felt that this glance was hundreds of years long, and when Urutiru shook his head at Kranvo, his heart felt as if it had been dug out, submerged in the waters of the Eternal Night Sea.

In fact, the priest also knew that Urutiru would not admit it, and that when Urutiru was still asleep, there were many frost giants who refused to believe in him, although they survived under the wing of Urutiru, but the teachings of Urutiru did not conform to the nature of the frost giants (or the nature of all giants), and Urutiru did not allow them to kill young beasts and female beasts, nor did they allow them to abuse other creatures for simple decoration or show off, and they did not allow meaningless slaughter and war- After Urutiru suddenly fell into a deep slumber, not a single Frost Giant could be seen among his followers, and even more, in order to be able to flatter Kawu, the priests of the Frost Giants more than once commanded the Frost Giants to attack the igloos of the Aratilites, kill their children, rob their women, and hang the incompetent followers of Urutiru in the wind to make jerky.

But when the priests of the Frost Giants were nailed to the walls of the Eternal City, he cried out in madness and despair, though the wind of the mourning wasteland pierced his throat like a sword, and he mocked Urutiru and cursed Kawuha, using every word of malice and depravity he knew.

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Gülen didn't know how he had woken up in a valley, but since there was only snow and ice around him, it meant that he was most likely still in the Far North Sea, and he licked his thumb and held it up in the air, and found that there was only a slight wind here, and the temperature could even be said to be suitable - compared to the ice field.

Gülen had already hidden himself as the Frost Giant's priest struggled into the valley, and the once formidable Frost Giant's condition did not look very good, or rather bad, for though he had eyes, they seemed to be unable to see at all—his crutches were only a dozen feet away from him, but he didn't look at them, and his arms and legs, but to the thieves they were a burden to the Frost Giants now, for they kept crashing against the ice, "and it seemed painful." The thief muttered to himself, but he soon realized that the Frost Giant Priest might have fallen into a real hallucination, and he stroked the dagger in his arms, which was heating and trembling, thirsting for life and blood.

"Wait. Glenn told Dagger that if it was just an ordinary frost giant, he would not refuse the dagger's offer, but it was a priest of the frost giant, a follower of Kavu, who had been in close contact with these colorful creatures in Thundercastle, and their deaths would not be as quiet and silent as mortals.

Glenn was right to hesitate, and just as he moved a position again, the frost giant's movements suddenly froze, and he stopped all his movements as if he were frozen, and then, to the disgusting of the thief, happened- First a lump bulged out of the frost giant's face, and then, like a maggot (at least that's what Gülen had thought at first) had come out of under his milky skin, a tentacle slipped out of it, waving it with a little terrible joy, and then another, and then another, and in a moment the priest's head looked like a fluffy anemone, but his terrible cry showed that the change was not as pleasant as it seemed, and he cried and begged, but Gülen could not understand a word。

"I don't know!" cried the priest, "I didn't know it was fake!"

"You have humiliated Kawula. The "messenger" deposited in him said that this "messenger" was meant to descend on the mountain or the eldest son of the mountain, and that he was one of Kawu's innumerable ears and eyes, and that he might be able to understand that the priest was uttering the blasphemous words under the influence of an illusion, but that did not mean that the priest could be forgiven for this—and that he was not willing to give up the opportunity to devour the flesh and soul.

"Please forgive me!"

"No," said the "messenger," "your sins cannot be forgiven." ”

Glenn had been watching with trepidation, he had seen similar sights in Thundercastle, but they were warriors and not priests, but he didn't feel the need to understand this, he wasn't a mage.

But what about the mage?

The thief wished he was not far away, and that he would feel as uncomfortable as many others when he faced a spellcaster alone (or something more dangerous than the caster) - he had found a suitable shadow, but just as he was about to dive in, a voice alarmed the monster, and Gülen.

Glenn sank into the shadows in an instant, he was already hiding, but the man didn't.

The messenger sniffed into the air: "What a strange smell. He said, "But it should be delicious." (To be continued.) )