Tarrant's mind grew clear, and the sword pointed at his target, Biantris, the troubadour shrouded in the shadow of the sword of the Sword Master.

The two mages threw a meteorstorm at the poet together, and under the siege of the Juggernaut, Biantris had no way out, he lost a black sword, and his attack was greatly reduced, and his actions were restricted by the Juggernaut. The meteor burst into nearly a hundred magic bullets that hit the target like a target, blood flowed down the corners of Biantris's mouth, he couldn't hold back the pain and couldn't be distracted at all, the sword dance of the Sword Master made him dangerous, and he would be cut in half by the Sword Master if he was not careful.

"It's time," the Psychic Mage ordered Tarrant, "sneak up on him from behind." ”

Unable to resist the master's command, Tarrant ran to Biantris's back and surrounded him with the Juggernaut, Biantris did not notice Tarrant's abnormality at all, until he found that the black sword was slashing at his legs, he suddenly woke up, and urgently flipped backwards, and the sweeping double-ended sword and black sword sandwiched the poet in the middle in the air, fortunately not hurt a little.

After Biantris landed, he took two steps back to distance himself to adjust the rhythm of the battle, and the Juggernaut chased after him, and the two mages also followed in order to ensure the hit rate of the spell, and Tarrant heard the follow-up command "Keep up, kill him!"

Tarrant watched the mage chase after him, this order hung in his heart, did he need to carry it out? Biantris didn't have much room to maneuver, and if he delayed any longer, I was afraid that there would be an accident, and now that the mage's back was facing him, it was already the best opportunity! Tarrant raised his black sword and slashed the mage protected by the stone shield technique with great force.

The stone shield is like a stone that has been violently chopped and falls in blocks. The Black Sword disintegrated the Stone Shield with a single blow, and the mage lost the color of the stone, leaving him with only the protection of the Magical Shield, a spell that was used to defend against spell attacks instead of physical attacks.

The mage was caught off guard and looked back in surprise, Tarrant slashed the mage's robe in half from left to right with another blow, and a crack appeared on the mage's chest, he raised his right hand, a silver ring flashed on his ring finger, and five identical mages crossed in front of Tarrant. Illusions are low-level self-preservation spells that replicate the caster's own four illusions to disperse enemy attacks, but the enemy will disappear upon touching the illusion.

The five figures chanted a spell together, Tarrant was used to it, swept the sword and revealed the mage's true body, he then slashed at the mage's right wrist, the mage's right wrist was bleeding, his spell stopped, unable to concentrate, he took two steps back, showing a frightened expression, but still in a dying struggle, the magic missile flew out of his fingertips.

Four missiles flew out, drawing a semi-circular arc from two directions, usually such a short distance Tarrant would definitely block hard, but at this moment Tarrant felt that his perception had been improved, and he could judge the trajectory and direction of the missile earlier, the missile had not yet approached, and he had a plan to counterattack. He took a different strategy than before, he didn't need to block hard, he saw the right moment, swung his sword the way he had expected to sweep away the missiles one by one, and then leaped up and stabbed down at the mage.

The mage turned and tried to flee backwards, but before he could take a step, his chest had been pierced by the cold artifact, and a black aura spread from the wound, and he looked at the tip of the sword, and fell down weakly. Tarrant drew his sword and stabbed at the other mage.

The mage who was beckoning the spell to the poet had noticed something unusual, and he quickly chanted the spell towards Tarrant, and the stone shield on his body cracked under Tarrant's first blow, and under the second blow, the stone shield spell came to naught. The mage finished chanting quickly, and a white vortex rolled up in the air, enveloping Tarrant in the middle, and the vortex quickly shrank and tightly encircled Tarrant, and finally transformed into a translucent giant fist that firmly grasped Tarrant. The Klos Energy Punch, which weighs a huge load on the recipient, makes it move slowly and unable to raise its arms, making it a very effective move against the fighter.

The giant fist trapped Tarrant's arms, and even though the sword was in his hand, Tarrant could not break free from the bondage of the giant fist with all his might, let alone lift the sword. The mage continued to chant the spell, a purple breath slowly gathered from the air to the mage's fingertips, at the moment of Tarrant's struggle, purple energy light shot on his forehead, Tarrant's blood swelled, the muscles around his body were in sharp pain, a feeling of suffocation choked his throat, the unspeakable pain made him open his mouth and wanted to roar, but there was no sound at all, a mouthful of black blood sprayed from his throat, staining the ground under his feet black, he escaped, the effect of the death finger faded, he sweated profusely, his legs went weak, and he fell on the giant fist that trapped him.

The mage didn't expect Tarrant to withstand the finger of death, so his chant paused, and he immediately continued to the next spell, Tarrant looked at the mage's chant weakly, the energy of the giant fist would last for a while, and he was ready to die. Just as the white energy convergence was about to be completed, a silver flash flashed, and the curly sword body wrapped around the mage's left hand, the mage was stopped casting spells by this accident, he turned around in surprise, and was startled by the face of Biantris at close range, Biantris wiped the blood on his chin, "Is it time to end?"

The body of the Sword Master fell in front of the cave, there was only a wound, a blood stain around the neck, the mage stopped resisting and sneered, "Don't think this is the end, Narissa's wrath will consume you all!"

"Narisa, is it the Nalissa who serves the dishes or the Narissa who mops the floor?" asked Biantris, smiling.

The insult to the Lord God sent the Dark Elf into a look of rage, "We will wash the redstone eventually!" he began to chant a spell, white energy gathering from above his head, teleportation.

The tip of the silver sword stabbed into the mage's chest, softly entering through the mage's robe, and with a trail of blood coming out of the other side of the robe, the mage fell with anger and resentment.

The Kroth Energy Fist faded and faded, turning from translucent to transparent at first, and finally completely dissipating into the air. Tarrant threw the sword back to Biantris and sat down against a rock, having experienced several lives and deaths today, and was very lucky.

The battle outside the cave was still raging, the dark elf soldiers mixed with the garrison, the mages only cast some individual spells to avoid accidental injury, a missile swept over the original target and hit the dirt at the entrance of the cave, splashing a little mud and landing on Tarrant's face, Tarrant only blinked tiredly, his body was exhausted, and even hanging his arms made him feel tired.

"Rest, the battle is almost over", Biantris moved his two swords, "I'll pack up the rest", he smiled at Tarrant, a victor, and gave Tarrant stealth and jumped out of the hole, heading straight for the monk.

The sound of the fight immediately left Tarrant's consciousness, and Tarrant closed his heavy eyelids without hesitation.

When his consciousness was not fully restored, a strange "whirring" sound flew in his ears, as if he was in a strong air current, Tarrant opened his hands to touch, the air flow brushed his hands like a light veil, a trace of coolness spread from his fingers to the whole body, he opened his eyes, in front of him was a large forest, vaguely could see a path winding in the forest, beside him, was an ethereal white cloud, he was flying.

Tarrant looked up, endless forests and rolling peaks, and the air currents blew violently on Tarrant's face, making him unable to open his eyes, Tarrant lowered his head and flew down. Through the clouds, a faint sound could be heard, it was a cry of battle, there was a battle on the ground, Tarrant flew in the direction of the sound, his vision became clearer and clearer, the dwarf and human soldiers were anxiously glued together, the ground was covered with the blood blanket of the warriors, the expeditionary force.

As the Psionic Monster gave the order to fight in the forest, Tarrant stopped in the forest, knowing that he could not help anything but watch the filthy creatures wreak havoc. A gust of wind blew, making the sound of "hunting", it was the friction of the robe shaking in the air current, a spiritual light flashed in Tarrant's mind, the sound of the robe, the expeditionary force gathered the top mages on the red stone, they were nearby, the slight sound of spell casting reached Tarrant's ears, and they began to fight back.

A mage slowly emerged from his invisibility state, he stopped on the tree to the right of Tarrant, and a hail of hail poured down from the sky along with his spell, enveloping the entire forest beneath his feet, the hail broke the branches, the trunk was smashed, and the lush forest was almost squeezed into a plane, and purple blood flowed from under the trunk.

The mage's long-awaited counterattack erupted, bursting white balls of energy from all over the forest, and the white arcs drawn by the meteorstorm filled the entire forest, allowing purple blood to cover the ground like a costume. A carving technique fell deep in the forest, the water of the living things in the area quickly steamed, the thick trunk was stripped of the power of life, became a dead tree, the grass on the ground was parched yellow, those twisted souls were stripped of their ugly bodies, and everything became a picture of death carved out of the hands of the mage.

The dwarven front faltered without the order of the Dominator, and some of the dwarves stood in place and looked around at a loss, the spiritsuckers did not have the energy to capture the golems, and the spells that exploded everywhere completely destroyed their formation, and their weak bodies shredded them like paper. The mages standing on the trees performed their final spell, rainbows of energy connecting to the ground, leaving inhuman-shaped bodies everywhere they went, their broken tentacles writhing in the grass and instantly blasted to ashes.

The dwarves regained their sense of self, stunned by what they saw, and fled into the woods. The Imperial soldiers regrouped and groped their way into the woods in small groups, the mages emerged from the trees one by one, and the rest of the work was to clean up the battlefield.

Suddenly, the soldiers in the search clutched their heads in pain, fell to the ground and rolled on the ground, the mages let out a wail, and a huge spiritual attack force raged in the forest. The moment after receiving the spiritual attack was the moment when the spiritual defense ability was at its weakest, and when the mages stood up again, their eyes were already glazed, and they began to cast spells.

The soldiers fought each other, their weapons struck at their companions' hearts and faces, the trees emitted flames and ice picks, and everyone frantically summoned the remaining combat power to their companions, and all kinds of rare high-level spells were presented one by one, and dozens of lives were reduced to nothing every second.

Stunned by the sudden transformation, Tarrant stood still like a wooden man, the light of the fire reflected on his face......

Tarrant's eyes snapped open, and a fresh, earthy scent mixed into his nostrils, and he exhaled slowly, the nightmare again. He was lying on a meadow, the sky was pure, there was not a single cloud, looking at the quiet sky, it brought a touch of peace to Tarrant's mood, if there was no war, there should be big trees and meadows around, birds flying freely between the trees, but now there was only the pre-war guard, the shadow of death.

It should have been afternoon, he had slept comfortably for most of the day, Tarrant sat up, the effect of the finger of death on him had subsided, only a little pain, and he should be fine after a little rest. There were more defenders at the entrance of the cave than before, and the troops were gathering quickly, Tarrant glanced around, Biantris was leaning against the trunk of a half-burned tree not far away, playing with a branch boringly, and when he saw Tarrant wake up, he playfully beckoned.

"Woke up, you didn't react at all when I moved you over, I thought you couldn't do it, I'm hungry, I have some elven food here", he pulled out a piece of emerald cake from his pocket beside him. Cui cake is the food of the elf tribe, in principle, it should belong to the vegetable category, but it chews a little like a biscuit, green, called Cui cake by humans, it can be preserved for a long time, suitable for the wanderers who sleep in the wind and eat and sleep in the open to defend themselves, and the adventurers of the elf race almost have a bag in their hands.

The biscuit looked a little tempting, but it didn't actually have any taste, and Tarrant ate it once, and it felt like chewing a piece of wood, and he got up and walked over to Biantris, "Isn't there any other choice?"

The poet laughed, and took a small piece from the emerald cake and put it in his mouth, "It tastes good, doesn't it? He stretched out the green cake to Tarrant.

Admittedly, the way it looks is a delicacy of the elves, Tarrant took the cake and took a small bite, there was a feeling of flooding but no information from the taste buds, Tarrant chewed hard twice and swallowed it stiffly, "Wood." ”

"They haven't come yet, and in three hours it will be dark," the poet said, looking at the sky, "will you let me be the protagonist?" ”

"Who?" Tarrant didn't pay attention to Biantris, eating the emerald cake was a laborious job, and all his eyes were on the emerald cake.

"Everyone, the battle with the Dark Elves is too strenuous, and I'm a little unaccustomed to it. ”

"You've done better than anyone else. Tarrant muttered with a mouthful full of emerald cakes.

The poet pursed his lips, "Without your help, I don't have a 100% chance of winning, and those two mages have used me a lot of restraint. ”

"Hey, you saved me, otherwise I would have been broken to pieces by the mage in the first round", Tarrant patted his chest, and the bruise mark was still faintly painful, "It's also because you threw the black sword to me that you were suppressed by the Sword Master, it can improve your perception, right?"

"It's a little bit of a good thing," Biantris smiled, "but then you saved me again, and I was done." Two meteor storms are enough for me, and if they continue to target me, I won't stand a chance, thanks to you being the Judgment Palain. ”

Recalling the moment when he was accused, it was indeed thrilling, if it weren't for the will of judgment of the trial knight's professional training to keep Tarrant self-aware, Tarrant would not have been able to get rid of the accusation, then the mage did not expect that Tarrant was a trial paladin, a fatal mistake. Tarrant laughed, "It's just a bargain." Your sword is good, it must have some origins, Ionas's welfare?"

"Which?" the poet set his eyes on Tarrant.

"Two. I am honored to have the opportunity to use a weapon worthy of the spokesperson. ”

"Gomorrah, the sword of punishment for those who break the balance, you may find it a little heavy, because you are not its master. Only neutral faction personnel can use it unhindered, and it is equivalent to a 4-star weapon against neutral enemies, a 6-star weapon against neutral offset, and an eight-star weapon against absolute offset. ”

"Eight stars?" Tarrant stopped chewing wood and looked at Biantris in surprise, the word was shocking, the highest level of weapon manufacturing recognized on the redstone can only make a super six-star weapon, and it can't reach seven stars, no matter how high the energy is, it will make the weapon unstable, and the eight-star means that the sword itself has a quality problem, and a strict quality problem.

"Eight stars," Biantris nodded, "it's easy to cut through your armor with it." A real artifact, the energy it contains makes it impossible to use it in its normal form, so, as you can see, its energy is constantly volatilizing, and its sword body is energy, and there is no specific form. In addition, it also gives the user some spell defenses, instant death spells such as Finger of Death, Dissociation, and Banshee's Howl are useless to me, and the side effect is that I am also immune to allies' aura spells, such as the Horn of Excitement. You've also seen another of its effects, the healing technique, which can be cast once every time you rest, compared to the usual healing technique, the effect of Gomorrah is stronger, as long as the link between the soul and the body is preserved, it can resurrect the dead, and the effect is the same as the resurrection technique of the great grandmaster-level priest. ”

Using the sloppy sword body to conserve energy, this process is not something that ordinary people can do, the instant resurrection technique, and it is not something that a great grandmaster-level priest can do, and Gomorrah's ability makes Tarrant staggered, and he has a strong interest in wanting to know about the other sword.

The poet smiled and continued, "Gomorrah is the spokesperson of Ionas for the Lifetime Award. Silver tooth is my own collection, it belongs to the five-star weapon, the biggest feature is that it can break through the protection of being cast by most of the defensive spells, you definitely can't guess how many rare materials it costs to forge its sword body, it is said that in order to ensure the softness of the sword body, but also to ensure that the mixed element power is not lost, the sword body is added to the dragon tendon, after the finalization it comes with fire, ice, electricity three powers, for the mage, the silver tooth is a deadly weapon, no spell can prevent it. ”

Biantris is right, the mage's defensive spells are divided into defensive physics and defensive magic, the silver tooth can cause elemental damage to the mage under physical protection, and can also cause physical damage to the mage under the protection of magic, if the mage wants to defend against both threats at the same time It takes a certain amount of time to cast spells, and it is almost impossible to complete in battle.

"I'm done, let's talk about your gear", Biantris's eyes slipped to Tarrant, "how are you going to handle the night battle?"

Tarrant's equipment is long gone, his sword was beaten into scrap metal by meteors, and the armor that had just been polished was smashed into pieces by the frost technique, and his current situation was a little helpless, "You're right, I should find a way to get a set of equipment." ”

"This is not a business district," the poet laughed, a teasing tone hidden in his laughter, "the elves have cleaned up the battlefield after the battle, and you have the right weapons." He beckoned to a soldier in the distance, gesturing in the shape of a sword.

A one-handed greatsword was sent over, occasionally reflecting a sparkling red light in the sunlight. "It belongs to an adventurer, he died in the battle just now, this sword, a two-star weapon, with fire damage, is not bad if it is equipped with a strengthening spell when starting a war. ”

Tarrant picked up the greatsword and made two strokes, the one-handed greatsword is heavier than the one-handed sword, the sword body is also relatively wide, and the length is about the same, this sword is more moderate in weight, Tarrant nodded his head, "Yes, just use it." ”

"As for the armor, you can pick it yourself, if you still plan to wear it. ”

Wearing armor would at least protect against some unnecessary abrasions, and Tarrant turned over a piece of armor from the elven soldier that was of ordinary workmanship, the standard armor of the army, worn by some unknown soldier.

"You look like a normal soldier, good idea, it can confuse your opponent, haha", Biantris glared at Tarrant and laughed, but he immediately stopped laughing, and looked over Tarrant to someone behind him, "You're finally here, and you won't be there later." ”

A calm and powerful voice came from behind Tarrant, "I'm not going to give up on you yet, my friend. ”