"To live to die?" said Mlos after listening to the killer's advice, as a general, he could not agree to such a risky move. But as a warrior, the elves' sixth sense told him that this might be their only way out.

"Exactly. Krus nodded, turning in the direction of the Dark Heart, "No matter whose priest he is, his power comes from faith, and if we can shake the foundation of his faith, then everything will collapse." ”

The dwarf moved his neck and smoothed the strands of hair that had fallen in front of him to the back of his head. "It's your style to win big or you're going to die. I agree, the experience of escaping with his tail between his legs like a lost dog is enough once. My biggest mistake over the years was to think that I could control it with gentle means. Now I understand that I can only fall asleep if it is ruined. ”

Everyone knew what Andrei meant by these words. Someone will ultimately have to take responsibility for the tragedy of the Molten Iron City, and the Dark Heart and the cultists who have come for it have become the targets of the dwarves' wrath. Like the elves, the children of the mountains have never had a bad memory for hatred, and in fact, the actionable dwarves can often be a nightmare for their enemies compared to the elves who have little interest in the wider world and only want to live with the forest. It's just that I don't know if the dwarven battle axe engraved with the forged god inscription can still work when the enemy is a whole evil god belief.

"Okay, it looks like we're on the same page?" Atwood looked at the people around him, and he noticed the fear in their eyes, and what was above it, "Well, true courage must be seen in adversity." But I can't hurt the evil clone while providing shelter, and you'll have to fight on your own. Mlos, there's a little bottle in my right beard, you untie it and open it, and the contents will help you. ”

The elven general's expression was quite wonderful as he put his hand into the beard of the green staff, and from the twitching corners of his mouth, it was difficult for others to guess how much was hidden in Atwood's large handful of hair. Fortunately, this did not last long, and with a little force, Mlos pulled out a knuckle-sized crystal bottle from the elder's beard, as well as a few mustaches. "Hey, lighter!" protested the elf with his wooden staff, but before his words could fall, the darkness around the crowd changed.

Huge barbed barbed objects covered with insect carapaces hang from the top of the tunnel. The lower end of the thing had several pairs of sharp teeth growing opposite each other, and it looked like a metal appliance designed to grasp objects, but at its size, it could only grasp the same thing here. "Help, help—" The elven soldier's cries for help rang out and stopped quickly, not even before the others around them could react. A large amount of blood mixed with other things splattered from the soldier who was pulled up, and his comrades who were standing next to him were surprised and didn't know what to do.

"What are you doing, fight, you idiots!" Mlos saw this, and without saying a word, he picked up the seeds of hatred and prepared to rush up to fight the strange form that hung from above. Fortunately, he thought of another thing in his hand before he started, and the elven warlord threw the crystal bottle that he took out of the green staff's beard to the dwarf with his backhand, "I'll take care of this side, you guys go and smash the monster god!"

Andrei took the vial and didn't say anything more, now in this situation, death follows everyone like a shadow, and if you want to live, you can only rely on yourself. "What do you do with this?" the dwarf asked, turning to the old elf when he opened the cap and found some fine powder inside.

"Paint it on your weapons, it will allow you to attack things that are not of this world!" Atwood gritted his teeth and squeezed out the words, the darkness around him becoming a constant and he had to concentrate to prevent more from breaking through the light.

The dwarf didn't say anything more, he poured the powder from the bottle onto the hammer head of the warhammer, and handed the bottle to the demon descendant after seeing a glimmer of light light up. Krus, after applying his blade, saw that there was still some powder at the bottom of the bottle, and gritted his teeth and poured it into his fist. "So what's the plan?"

"We rush in and chop down what stands in our way until we get to the mass of metal and smash it with what we have!" Andre replied to his companion's question, and then the first one without looking back rushed out of the shelter of the light and stepped into the deep darkness ahead.

Seeing this, the killer sighed, "As always, as always." With that, he also raised his sword and followed.

Darkness, like a thick liquid, enveloped the two poor men who had left the protection. This darkness seemed to have the power to annihilate everything, and from the moment it stepped in, all sounds were cut off except for one's own heartbeat and breathing. Krus tried to see what was in front of him, or at least the outline of his palm, but neither demonic fire nor qi could help the demonborn out of his predicament. He had to walk blindly forward, and every step needed to be carefully responded to to prevent danger from coming suddenly.

Maybe it was luck, maybe something else in the darkness was watching all this, and the Demon Spawn walked about thirty steps forward before hitting the end. The tip of Krus' toe hit something, and it felt like stone or metal. He tried to touch the thing with the tip of his sword, and sparks flew out from top to bottom. His experience had led the Demonborn to recognize that what stood in his way was a stone wall of comparable size, but he never remembered such a wall in this hallway.

With all his courage, Clarus stretched out his palm and pressed it against the wall, and the back of his hand began to glow faintly! The entire left hand became almost transparent under this white light, and then more light lit up from the palm and the middle of the wall, and some strange lines spread out with the light, and soon formed a large number of patterns on the wall. The Demon Blinked a few times to get used to the light, and he tried to remove his palm after making sure that the lines on the wall were no longer changing, and interestingly, his hand returned to normal as his left hand left the wall.

Krus took a few steps back so that he could put all the lines into view. He noticed that the white lines seemed to be some kind of drawing. These drawings depict more than just one scene, they seem to tell a whole story. The style of the painting is so strange that the Demonborn has to think for a moment to understand what it is drawing, and he discovers that no matter how the characters and backgrounds in these images change, one thing remains the same.

That is, in the upper right corner of the painting, there is always a fat creature sitting in a chair, peeking at the rest of the picture with a smiling expression. When Krus realizes that the creature might be some kind of creature of some kind, something terrible happens, and all the fat creatures in the frame turn their gaze to one place at the same time, staring at the Demon.