"It's not fair!" the Otherworldly Soul protested indignantly, "She was trying to disguise herself as a mother just now!"

"Mom and aunt are sometimes two different concepts," said Pastor Ilmot, who turned to the caster at some point, "and at some point, some men are willing to pretend to be babies or children and hide in their soft breasts or under warm skirts to call Mommy." ”

He got a surprised side look. The spirits of the other world knew that Ilmot, like Rosada, believed that the most primitive desires of mankind should be satisfied, like drinking, feeding, and sleeping—though it was not permissible to marry someone, for their bodies and minds belonged to the gods. But it is always surprising that a priest of Ilmot suddenly talks about something that is not so well discussed in public. At least the souls of the other world didn't expect that a priest of the God of Crying and Suffering could have studied it quite deeply—and it always felt like something was broken.

"There is nothing surprising," said Gavin, apparently accustomed to being misunderstood in this regard: "We help all the wounded in the world, including the prostitutes, who occasionally tell us about them. In fact, many women in this ancient profession have maliciously asked the pastor if such suffering as they have suffered is also the Sunnah of the highest good.

"Are you suffering for others?" would normally reply Gavin to them, "If so, then it is a commendable good deed." ”

Some of the prostitutes would laugh and walk away, while others would remain silent, but in either case, the priests of Ilmut would not refuse to treat them - it is difficult for those who have not witnessed it to imagine the injuries of such lowly women, who in some cases were wounded almost as severe as the soldiers on the battlefield, but who were neither respected nor pitied, and a few of the poor women could not even take out a few copper coins when the priests of Ilmut treated them. When they were offered herbs, food, and water, they were constantly reminded that they were just prostitutes.

"Who is the man lying in front of me?" said the priest of Ilmot, calmly at that point, "I have seen only one wounded man." ”

So, although the vision of the Cheap Demon was beautiful enough, when the priest of Ilmote looked at her with a pair of healer's eyes, it was only a body in front of him, and he easily broke free from the dream that had bewitched almost all the spirited men—although he still couldn't understand the inexplicable disappearance of the spell, he remembered that the black-haired young spellcaster was his companion, out of caution. Before approaching Cremar, he cast a magic spell that would awaken his bewitched and controlled companions.

The otherworldly soul felt as if it had been stuffed with a neck of ice—he could already tell what kind of magic it was—and the priest prayed for a healing spell, for he had seen the two serious injuries on Kremar's body, but the black-haired spellcaster immediately made a gesture of refusal, and the priest froze his question, and Kremar shook his head and summoned his own spirit servant- Flames from the fire elemental plane violently enveloped the priest entirely, under the control of the eight-legged fire elemental creature. The flames didn't hurt the priest, but they helped him drive away the vines and branches that were about to move—thankfully the dryads were still afraid of the flames.

The flames couldn't hurt the Mean Devil, but the huge light of that moment made her blink uncontrollably when she opened her eyes again. Finding one of her prey disappearing from her view, she shook her body in rage, screaming and waving her arms, driving the roots and branches of the dryad, which was hundreds of feet deep. If in the shadow plane, they might cover an area of nearly a thousand square feet, but she hadn't been there long enough. Nearly twenty feet long were the branches, whipped and poked and dug along with the roots that tumbled out of the dirt, trying to find the sweet flesh caster.

The part of the dryad wasn't very happy with that, even if it grew on the shadow plane and survived on the flesh and blood of the innocent, it was still a tree after all, and no plant would happily pull out its roots and run around on the ground, but it couldn't disobey the.

To their surprise, the black-haired spellcaster did not flee, instead, he appeared in the center of the courtyard, the main part of the dryad, and calmly cast a spell - a spell that transferred the damage he took to an involuntary target - and the Mean Demon let out a scream, and his white arm suddenly stretched out like a branch of the dryad, trying to grab the caster who had given her the damage, breaking it, wring him dry, Tear to shreds, and eat every bite of his flesh and soul without wasting a penny.

If it weren't for the priest's timely casting of a magic spell that slowed down the movement of her arms and branches for a short time, perhaps she might have succeeded.

Even so, Cremar took a blow, and a branch whipped him out of the mess like a baseball. The priest ran over with the fire elemental creatures clinging to him, and managed to catch the mage before the vines and branches.

The mage made a gesture as soon as he regained his balance and began casting another spell, and the priest was finally able to cast his healing spell, half of the caster's chest sinking in horror.

Ilmot's followers couldn't tell what kind of spell the mage had cast, and he saw neither fire nor thunder when he had finished casting, and then he felt the ground shake, the monster screamed louder and higher, and when he tried to cast his magic, Cremar grabbed him, and together they fell into the flames—the priest could feel something being ruthlessly torn apart.

The heat of the flames distorted the air, and his eyes inevitably burst into burning tears, but the priest of Ilmot could still perceive that the whole courtyard was becoming clear, it was not as empty as it had been, and although most of the plants had withered and withered, a dark black strange tree and its branches took over every part of the courtyard, and only a few mutated vines could barely coexist with it. It looked a lot like a plant called the banyan tree that grew off the coast of the south and on the islands, and its body was tightly entwined like dozens of obscure poisonous snakes. Countless twigs, or aerial roots, hung from the branches that radiated in all directions, digging deep into the earth, without leaves or flowers, and with blackened skin covered with scales.

And on the strongest of the trees, there was a misshapen upper body that had some attraction if you ignored the rotten spots—the upper body of a female succubus, with two curved horns like argali's spots sticking out of her fluffy silver hair. She has a slender waist and a soft chest, as well as a pair of round arms, and a beautiful face full of greed and lust.

The face twisted and screamed, and the dagger's claws scratched at the dryad's body, which of course could not be used to deal any effective blow to the dryad, but after a while, the upper half of the gogol's body began to writhe and shake wildly. Grasping as hard as they could—they heard a rumbling sound, very low, as if coming out of the depths of the earth, and the priest listened for a moment before it occurred to him that perhaps it was the cry of a shadow dryad that few humans could hear—the branches that were like whips pulled up from the dirt. Lashing out at the face and body of the, the desperately grab them, but to no avail, in the ostracism of giving birth like a woman. Half of the Obstard's body was squeezed out of the trunk of the dryad—the lower half of which connected even the priest of Ilmut to a little disgust—it was half a pink chubby maggot, and strangely had six shining eyes on its tail.

Enraged by being kicked out of her habitat (even though she didn't like it before), the Mean Demon braced herself up with the maggot's body. With a light jump, she jumped into the deep cavern she had revealed, digging her arm deep into it, grabbing a bloody mass out of the dryad's branches before she could pull her away, discarding it where it had been burned by the flames, and then ducking into the flames with the dryads' terrible howls and jumps, thinking that by way she would escape the dryads, but the dryads seemed to have lost their instinctive fear of the flames, and its branches burned, wrapping tightly around the Cheap Demon's body, and piercing the tips into her tender lower part, sucking the juice from them。

Cremar and the priest seem to have been forgotten by them.

"What's wrong with them?" asked the pastor.

The marital violence caused by arranged marriages is tempted to be said by the souls of the other world, but the priest of Ilmot was born with a dignified and majestic face, and his temples were as white as snow, and the soul from a plane that regarded respect for the old and love for the young as a moral code did not dare to joke with him: "Spell." ”

More precisely, two spells, the first spell causes the target's mind to split into a small fragment of their personality against them - the Otherworldly Soul doesn't know if the two-in-one Cheap Tree Monster is one or two, but as he hoped, they break up less amicably, and the second spell shatters the Mean Demon's mind and makes her attack the creature closest to her.

As he passed by the piece that had been dug up by the Cheap Demon and discarded in the embers, the Otherworldly Soul involuntarily took a deep breath: "It's fragrant. He commented.

The priest looked at it, "It must be the seed of the dryad," he said, "and the dryad can grow countless branches from its body, but they are all part of itself, and cannot be counted as its children - its children are only one, and when they mature, they will parasitize on the body of a living being, and he will take them far away, and if that place is suitable for the growth of the shadow dryad, it will sprout from the creature's body and settle there." ”

"And it's a fruit?" Smells like the fruit of fried bacon.

"Uh...... That," said the priest euphemistically, "there is still plenty of food in the city of Dorling...... I think. (To be continued......)

PS: It's late - the new chapter is put in the phone, but there is a problem with the memory card and I have to rewrite it......