readx; Kelse's lovers were a little excited, where was this? It was the center of Grenada, where the Red Dragon and its descendants were entrenched, and if it weren't for Kelse, they might not have had the opportunity to set foot here, and now, they could even burn and kill, even though they were only some lowly slaves, but they could still be worn on their chests as a meritorious service, even if Kelse, who had always liked the new and hated the old, might no longer associate with them, but what she promised was enough for them to gain a foothold in the royal capital. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

They roamed the corridors and rooms, but unfortunately, even though Cremar had returned, he had not completely cleared his dwellings, as some had hoped, except for his usual study and bedrooms, and the chambers of the attendants and slaves, the rest of the place remained empty and quiet, with no statues of gold, no velvet curtains, not even small pieces of furniture, except for the crudely severed vines that sprouted new tentacles, which came in through the windows and into the crevices of the stone bricks. The Warlocks were intrigued, but they knew that there was nowhere else to run from the shivering little creatures, and they would always be able to find them - a warlock with his hand on his rune seal, and he had raised a little devil that he could summon to find the slaves if necessary, but there was no contract between him and the little devil, it could only be said that it was a costly employment relationship, but he would summon it if necessary, after all, he could get more from Kelth. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at his opponent, Kelse's other lover, knowing that he had an elemental creature pet who had an advantage over him in this regard.

"Did you hear anything?" said the warlock's opponent suddenly.

The warlock listened, and he did hear sounds, as if they were coming from underground.

"Every chamber has a basement. The warlock said, "We should probably go and see." ”

"But I think the obnoxious bugs might prefer a place with a bright light. He said that the two warlocks looked at each other, one dark-haired and the other light-haired, but because of Kelce's preference, they had very similar features, so that the two men who were not related at all looked like brothers, but even if they were, they preferred to plunge a dagger into each other's backs or pour a spell into each other's throats—and after a moment of silence they laughed almost at the same time, "then," said the light-haired warlock, "we should probably go our separate ways." ”

"Let's see which of us can get more prey. The dark-haired warlock said, hiding the ferocity in the depths of his eyes.

They were separated, and they would have been more cautious if they had come to attack a warlock or mage today, but they had also seen that the only priest who could threaten them was here, and the priest had rushed into battle, and they had already been prepared, not only wrapped in magical robes depicting protective spells, but also wearing runic charms for protection. The light-haired warlock chose to go down, his faint demonic bloodline mixed with the dragon's bloodline, which allowed him to see in the dark - only on the surface, but in fact more than that, his eyes were able to catch the breath of life emanating from living creatures in the darkness, which allowed him to dodge countless attacks and set up the same number of traps, this time too, he had no intention of letting his companions know about it.

The underground level was apparently inhabited, and perhaps not long after leaving, for the warlock could almost feel the heat of the blood flowing through his body, and the smell of saliva, sweat, and tears, and he descended the wide staircase, and then stopped four or five paces from the end: "I see you," he said, "poor little mice," he gestured, "don't think I'm lying to you, let me see, one in the box, one in the ...... On the lampstand, there is also a roll in a blanket. ”

He heard the sound of blood rushing when he was nervous.

One of the gnomes had been in the courtyard before, and when he saw such a tragic turn of events, he rushed into the palace almost without thinking about it, and jumped into the basement, like a naïve mole, and his companions wanted to flee as soon as they found out what had happened to him, but where could they escape? The courtyard and chamber were not only a cosy nest but also a tight prison, guarded by monsters and attendants, who decided to hide or plead with the first person who walked in, for they were slaves here and everywhere else, and the Mithril exoskeleton armor was so ingenious that perhaps their new owners would look up to them for it.

The most timid of them was pushed out, holding a tiny fluorite that only a dwarf could hold, and the light of the fluorite could only illuminate the dwarf's hands and wrists, "We're just gnomes," he said tremblingly, "just slaves, we're not soldiers, we're not mages." ”

"Of course," The warlock frowned slightly at the gnome's mention of the mage, he didn't like the filth of these things mentioning words related to magic, it was like a humiliation, he stretched out his fingers, and the sudden burst of light startled the gnomes, they jerked their bows and crossbows, but then they burned without warning, the gnomes shouted and dropped their weapons, their little short legs turned as fast as the blades of a waterwheel pushed by the current, but in any case, the speed of mortals could not be compared to magic, and the shadows they cast in the light wriggled and wriggled like poisonous snakes, pulling them to the groundand then they spread up their waists and chests like life, "Wait," one of the gnomes shouted, "We are gnomes, we can work for you," and by this time the tentacles had grabbed him by the throat, but he struggled violently, writhing violently, "I'll tell you everything you want to know!"

The Warlock just glanced at them and walked past them, tentacles wrapped around their throats, and they wouldn't die for the time being, because Kelce had made it clear that she wanted to make the black-haired dragonborn feel horrified, terrified, and resentful, and that simply suffocating to death would not have been able to accomplish this.

"Dwarf," one of the dwarves thrust his fingers between the tentacles and his throat, and his fingers ached sharply, perhaps they were about to break, but they still allowed him to utter the last word, perhaps out of jealousy, perhaps out of a previous grudge, or perhaps because of the enmity between the dwarf and the dwarf, he did not continue to plead, but betrayed the companion who had not been noticed by the warlock, "and a dwarf," he cried, "right behind you!"

The warlock spun around abruptly, and a short spear slammed into his shoulder, but with the glow of magic, it couldn't even pierce the thin layer of velvet.

The dwarf leapt out of a cluster of swords, and the black-haired Dragonborn gave him three rune seals before leaving, magic that could be cast without the caster's talent allowing him to remain invisible. The gnomes insisted on talking to the visitor, but Crash knew from his calloused knees that today's enemy would not allow anyone to live, but he still gave the gnomes a crossbow, and although they failed to fire even a single bolt in the end, Crash really didn't expect that the gnomes would betray him, didn't they think that he could save them?

"See the poop ghost!" the invisibility spell was ineffective as he attacked, and the dwarf leaped out of the dense forest of weapons in black iron armor, which the dwarves had carefully crafted for themselves, and the elbows, knees, and helmets were filled with long sharp steel spines like traditional dwarven armor, the length and hardness of which could hang a boar on it.

The Warlock straightened the corners of his mouth in disgust, and as he listened to Kels's curses, he placed most of the reason on Kels's innate hatred of the half-brother, but as far as he could see, the black-haired Dragonborn was indeed quite deviant - how could he give a dwarf, a slave the power to make armor - the previous crossbow and the weapons he saw could be interpreted as for squires and soldiers, but this armor was probably only worn by dwarves except dwarves. Not to mention, the dwarf had caused him some undeserved trouble, and he was caught in a ridiculous battle, his magic failing on the dwarf - the warlock became angry, and he wanted to grab the dwarf and take down the runes from him, which could be used as proof, even if the black-haired dragonborn was indeed favored by the new king and Gredi, his actions were enough to arouse suspicion and contempt.

The dwarf lowered his head and lunged at the warlock, thinking that he could nail this bad thing to the wall, but in the place of the warlock was a pile of sticky strange objects, which not only received the spike blow, but also took the dwarf's helmet, and if it hadn't been for the quick reaction of the crash, he would have left his head inside. The dwarf gasped for breath, he thought the warlock would take this opportunity to burn his ass, but he didn't, the dwarf couldn't find him, he walked around in heavy breathing, the gnomes cried and asked him to help them once, and the dwarf just spat on them.

The fluorite that the dwarf was holding before fell to the ground, its light was extremely weak, but the dwarf was also one of the races that could naturally see in the dark, he looked down at the steps, the last few steps of the warlock were floating, the grease and small steel balls on the stairs did not play the role that the dwarf wanted to see before, he leaned down, trying to get them away, and at this time, a preset magic was activated, and the runes on the dwarf flickered for the last time, and finally failed to cancel out the complete effect, and collapsed into a white lamb with a black nose。

The dwarven lamb looked at his hand in amazement, no, at the hoof, and then jumped up again, and bleated sweetly—he was now a sheep, or a lamb, roasted and juicy, and his hooves could not even go up half a step, needless to say that there was still grease and steel balls on the steps, and he had only tried once, and then fell to the ground on all fours.

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The light-haired warlock was a little annoyed, maybe he shouldn't have chosen the underground, but anyway, the four prey in the underground layer already belonged to him, and then, he wanted more, as for whether his opponent would complain, would he still care about this?

And just as he was following some clues, a female attendant suddenly appeared in the corridor.

The Warlock immediately became vigilant, he put his hand on his wand, who knows if the black-haired Dragonborn had solemnly ordered his trusted squires to protect the slaves, he had no idea before he saw the dwarf, but now he wasn't sure.

He was slightly relieved to see the other man cross his hands on his chest, a gesture used to indicate no hostility in Grenada and elsewhere, whether mortal or spellcaster, and that there were no weapons or spellcasting materials in those hands- He shifted his gaze to the other party's face, thinking that he might see a familiar face, which is entirely possible, after all, a large part of the attendants who can serve His Highness are warlocks, but this face is unfamiliar, unfamiliar, but full of charm, obviously it is a face that cannot be described perfectly, some people will even think it is ugly, but he has fallen.

The Daughter of Grazt took the warlock's hand and drew a wand from between her fingers, the wand contained a powerful spell that she could feel, but its owner had no chance of breaking it, the young warlock had a good talent, and he resisted, though unsuccessfully.

She stuck out the tip of her tongue and touched the warlock's lips, and exchanged a long, lingering kiss with him. She could read his last thoughts, that he was actually jealous of another person, a ...... A warlock as young and handsome as he is, because he did not meet this cunning enemy, did not fail...... and death.

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What the light-haired warlock didn't know was that there was no need for him to be jealous of his opponent, who was also on the verge of death.

The beasts looked at him in disbelief, the dust of the mourning wasteland had sealed his mouth and nose, but they still didn't dare approach him—the warlock had killed about a third of them even with Adel in his presence.

The most that could not see the morning light again were the cat-eared beasts, perhaps because their alien limbs were not transferred and amputated, but extended and deepened their relationship, and they gradually developed the wildness of a big cat, and they were the first to approve of Adelle's proposal, they hid in the shadows of the corridors and trees, and used their claws and fangs against a spellcaster, and the priest's magic was thrown at them, making them faster, stronger, and more agile. But that's not enough to stand up to a Grenada's red robe.

Among the winged beasts, surprisingly, was the smallest beast, her body and face were not scarred, and there was not even a shout, and she fell into a deep sleep forever, but the spell was meant to fall on Adelle. (To be continued.) )