Chapter 165: Dorling (5)

In fact, it wasn't just the house that had been inexplicably lengthened - the light had dimmed before they could perceive it, the half-open door had disappeared, and the whole building had been shrouded in a gray-black crystal box - the elves and Cremar, and the eyes of the thieves could see in the dim and gloomy environment, but now they could see everything as if they had been covered with a veil of dirt, and they could not see anything really.

What distinguishes people from the outside world more clearly is the dust that accumulates under their feet, the dust that should be dry and light becomes damp and heavy, and the unnatural cold breath that lies in it climbs up their warm bodies like a living thing, making them feel as if they are buried in a mire with a thick layer of frost or ice that has frozen on the surface in the harsh winter. There are silky soft things floating in the air, but when you try to catch them with your eyes or hands, they melt away like torn mist.

The things they were familiar with were like the ground, which the former warriors had with skilled craftsmen to make for themselves an intricate mosaic of two horse heads, the size of a real horse's head, made of countless small pieces of stone cut into the shape of a beehive, like a white horse and a black horse, as it is well known that Tampas, the god of battle, rode when he galloped into battle. The barbarians of the north, as well as many warriors and knights, belong to this powerful god who was born and fight, but like other gods, only followers approved by Tampas can use his emblem, and others who revere him generally adopt some kind of symbol closely related to him in their clothing or decoration, such as the silver gladiolus of Tampas, the sacred flower of Tampas, and his mount. The white Horse Viros and the black Peony Horse Dyros are the two symbols that the warriors often use.

The Priest of Cranvo had seen the symbol more than once, but never before had it seemed so dark and evil—they were originally alive, and the stonemasons had skillfully made their eyes out of black hornblende, so that they would shine with wisdom like living horses, and the mane on the back of their necks fluttered high in the non-existent wind, and they were full of spirit; At their feet were only two overlapping bones, with high cheekbones, manes like dried worms, black eyes full of resentment, their mouths slightly open as if black blood was pouring out, but when one looked closely, they found that they were nothing more than the illusion of a small hexagonal stone that was missing. 、

True, false. Pillars, walls, domes, staircases, they are present and they are not, and when people move, they can hear young children and women whispering. They stopped, and calm returned.

They now do as the elves and the chief priest of Kranwo have commanded. The two of them were side by side, only within the reach of their companions in front of them with their arms outstretched, and the positions of Kerribben, Glenn, and Cremar changed again, and they were no longer their old companions but priests—and when Gülen tried to object, the burly priest Kranvo immediately looked at him, and the thieves immediately shut his mouth. He remembered that he was carrying the curse of the god of death - Glenn didn't know if he already knew that he had killed a priest of the god of death, but it wasn't something that was hard to guess. The god of death is a miser, he rarely bestows blessings, and the same goes for curses, and he doesn't spend his mind on a mortal for no reason.

The thieves did not know when they entered the temple. Priest Cranvo threw out the magic that was blocked by the mage, he only knew that he definitely didn't need to suffer so much, and he had already received enough "bounty" from this group of dying people.

He slowed his steps and moved cautiously forward, touching his body lightly, the thin silver rope wrapped around his waist and slyly hidden in the thief's robes, and as Glenn guessed whether it was a threat or a help, the elven ranger who walked in front of him took a step forward— It was only a small step, but in the blink of an eye, his back shrank to only a third of the size, the thief's pupils constricted nervously, and he rushed out without thinking, but it was too late, the road that crossed him shattered like a broken glass, and his feet suddenly lost their grip, and the whole person fell uncontrollably.

Gülen let out a high-pitched shout.

Then he saw the silver light flicker, and he was caught, his back aching as if he had been cut open by an axe, but he was unharmed, and the silver rope wrapped around him at one end, hanging the thief in the dark mid-air, and the other end reaching out into the unfathomable distance—a help, Gülen was sure, for he had seen beneath him, no more than a dozen feet away— It was a sea of insects that could be described as vast, clam-white insects, with wings, that looked like termites dozens of times larger, their eyes glowing, rubbing against their typical chewing mouthparts, and making rhythmic quaca sounds, surging like waves under the feet of the Masco devotees, making people numb.

Termites should not include humans in their recipes, but Gülen doesn't want to be the first page in their new recipes.

The thief's legs twisted around the rope and tried to straighten himself up, and his actions seemed to provoke the resentment of the strip that had been inflicted on the Eternal Activation, and it shook violently, nearly throwing Gülen into the sea of worms.

"No, no, no, no......" the thief cried out, "please don't, dear, please don't—I'm just trying to lighten your burden...... If you don't want me to do that, well," he cautiously re-headed his head, "as you wish." ”

The rope squirmed, and the thief felt wet all his spine, and he prayed to Musk (though Musk rarely paid attention to a loser), but Gülen never thought to test the forgiveness of the thief god - and even if he prayed to Musk's enemies, would they really respond, poor Cranvo, poor Ilmot, they couldn't even save their own followers.

Glenn only hoped that the curse of the god of death would not come at this time, and that even the mage's rope would not be able to tie up a pile of powder, wouldn't it? He didn't want to wait for him to come together again, and when he opened his eyes, he found that there were countless large insects gnawing at every part of him.

Thankfully, Musk was so merciful once in a while, the thief's waist tightened, and then he happily found himself being pulled upwards, and he was pulled to the ground. Glenn turned his head to look around, he was now in what looked like a small parlor, it looked like it had been abandoned by humans for hundreds of years, carbonized silk and rotten wood everywhere, and one of the thieves' feet was stuck in a hole in the floor, which didn't look like it could fit a person his size through, and he raised his foot, and the hole healed before his eyes, and those were faintly visible.

"Thank you. Gülen said earnestly to the rope, "You are the most beautiful in the world." The toughest and smartest rope ever. ”

To his surprise, as the rope narrowed, the other end of the rope appeared in front of the thieves - and on the other end hung a priest of Ilmot.

Worse than Cremar, but better than Kerribben or the priest of Cranwal.

"I'm not wrong at all," Glenn nodded to herself with satisfaction, "I'm always right, are you right, Rope?"

&&&

It was only a matter of seconds before the lich lost contact with other people.

He was inexplicably swept away. Throwing a huge force into a courtyard, he broke a wand before he could stand up—it contained a spell that avoided the effects of the plane—and the former undead only began to look around after the spell had taken effect. Beneath his feet was sticky, damp dirt mixed with dead branches and leaves, and around him were dense bushes and vines, all as tall as trees and spikes like daggers—would have been stabbed if it weren't for the caster's short white robes. And the veil-dense vines swayed slightly in the wind from nowhere, their tips cocked and tentatively scratched, like snakes, like nooses.

The lich lit a small wisp of fire. The vines retreated in fright, and even the thorns made way for a narrow path.

The once undead don't think they're that vulnerable," an invitation. He whispered.

As he walked along the narrow path, strange to him it came to feel familiar—the warrior's courtyard would not be so large or so luxurious—he had seen no less than dozens of expensive plants of gold or precious stones, either poisonous or some kind of magical material, and he had even seen several clusters of devil's fingers, ranging from nascent white to mature crimson, growing beside a small depression.

Finally he saw an obsidian statue - a statue of a giant dragon, its massive body obscuring nearly half of the lich's vision, its wings tucked at its sides, its fat belly covered with layers of shiny scales, its head bowed, its hideously bifurcated horns twisted back and piercing into the sky, its fangs sticking out of its mouth, its eyes were rare golden stones, radiating a cruel light like a real dragon, and its thin diamond-shaped pupils were like gaps in space that could completely swallow everything in front of it at any moment.

The former immortal stood suddenly, and he remembered that this was his father's palace, where he had lived for fourteen years.

&&&

Berdwin woke up again, his throat tumbling violently, he wanted to vomit, but he knew full well that he would vomit only his internal organs and blood, that he was rotting, that there was no way to reverse it, and that the healing potions from the priests of Ilmorte could only slightly delay this disadvantage- He had learned from the priest that his companions had gone to the source of the plague for him and the rest of the city of Dorin, and that they might succeed or fail, and the priest of Ilmut had vaguely reminded him that if they failed, they would have to burn the whole of Dolin to the ground—no amount of stubborn plague could fight the blazing flames.

They will succeed, Berdwin said to himself, he had inexplicable faith in Kerry, and to himself, he would not die humbly with a crime, he would atone for his sins and re-engrave the name of Baldwin Donkray on the pedestal of the scales.

Maybe it was only Berdwin, he thought, he had never had this surname, but he could give himself a new one.

"There's another guy who came to visit you. Said the priest of Ilmot.

"Can you tell me who he is?" Birdwin was a little surprised, because he didn't remember any connection he had with Dorling, the people he knew were either in the Norman royal capital, or in Thundercastle, and maybe a few cities, like the White Tower, he had gone to complete the mission given by the king, but Dorling, he hadn't even passed by.

"A man of honorable status. The priest of Ilmut prompted.

The first thing that came to Dylan's mind was his unrelated brother, but if it was Dylan, he wouldn't have entered the Dorling, and Baldwin knew something about him, he was a cautious and subtle person, and would not do such impulsive things - whether it was to kill him, capture him, or save him.

The last one was obviously unlikely, and Berdwin let out a sigh, Dylan had been able to make way for him to escape outside the Norman capital beyond the expectations of the former owners of Thundercastle.

"A noble woman," said the priest of Ilmot, encouragingly, "daughter of the old Norman king, niece of the new king," he said calmly in Berdwin's incredulous eyes, "Her Royal Highness Princess Leona—she has come for you." ”

"It can't be!" exclaimed Berdwin, who he thought was loud, but it was only clearer than grunting.

The last one was obviously unlikely, and Berdwin let out a sigh, Dylan had been able to make way for him to escape outside the Norman capital beyond the expectations of the former owners of Thundercastle.

"A noble woman," said the priest of Ilmot, encouragingly, "daughter of the old Norman king, niece of the new king," he said calmly in Berdwin's incredulous eyes, "Her Royal Highness Princess Leona—she has come for you." ”

"It can't be!" exclaimed Berdwin, who he thought was loud, but it was only clearer than grunting.

"It can't be!" exclaimed Berdwin, who he thought was loud, but it was only clearer than grunting. (To be continued......)