"Why are you following? I've already told you you don't have the talent for magic. The vague figure in the carriage hung his legs leisurely, looking at himself as he tried his best to follow behind the carriage. "Huh... "Heavy wheezing, oxygen-deprived brain can't even determine the specific scene in front of him, and his eyes can only see large blurry spots of light, which feels like a random smear on a paint plate. The outstretched hand desperately wanted to grab the trouser leg of the man in the carriage, as long as he could...

"Whew!" the crow sat up from the haystack abruptly. He rubbed his head, slightly dizzy from the sudden awakening, and surveyed the scene around him. Large stone bricks made up the walls of the room, but the beautiful strips of stone had obvious cracks, apparently under strong impact. The light was an oil lamp, and there was not much oil left in it, and the dim flame struggled to be extinguished so easily. Other than that, the space was so small that it could only accommodate two adults and all that was left was the haystack where the sorcerer was lying.

The sound of the deadbolt turning "squeak", and at the same time as the oil lamp went out, another light shone in from outside the door. "How's it going?" asked the Raven, looking down at the people who had come in. "You're awake? Lynn said, clutching her chest, kneeling on the ground and pouring some oil into the extinguished lamp. "How's it going?" the wizard repeated his question. "There is still some lamp oil, and just now the Grand Duke sent someone to send a few more cans, and the amount of food is quite a lot..."

"That's not what I'm talking about. The crow grabbed Lynn's wrist and looked him straight in the eye. "How many are left?" The former maid was visibly terrified by the wizard's rude actions, and she tried to pull her hand out, but she didn't expect that the power of the cursed crow was much greater than she thought. Tears began to roll in Lynn's eyes, and the sorcerer who noticed this showed no pity in the slightest, his gaze was gloomy and sharp, as if it were about to pierce the skin of a person, looking directly at the soul wrapped in flesh and blood. "And... And less than three hundred people ... Tears finally flowed like a, and Lynn whimpered about the desperate state of affairs, put down the oil lamp in her hand, and began to sob.

"Whew... Is it. Hearing the answer he wanted, the cursed crow let go of his white wrist, took a deep breath, and said indifferently. He took a brief look at his clothes and made sure there was nothing wrong with him, and then stood up from the haystack, the man's tall shadow completely enveloping Lynn in the light of the oil lamp. "Where are the dwarves?" he asked, reaching out and lifting her chin after Lynn didn't answer. "Now is not the time to cry. Tell me, where are the dwarves?"

"Woo... In, in the front tunnel, the Grand Duke and Mr. Lyon were reinforcing the defensive line. Lin desperately stopped crying and said to the Cursed Crow. The sorcerer nodded, and walked over her body towards the door. "We, we're going to be all right, right?" the girl asked in a trembling voice behind her, fear coming out of her voice. The man stopped and turned his head to look at her, "You're a banshee, and you know this better than I do." With that, he disappeared around the corner of the hallway. Leaving Lin to bury her face in her knees and twitch her shoulders helplessly, the Crow was right, she knew best who of the survivors of the Molten Iron City would not survive tonight. The Banshee's ability to take revenge was like the most vicious curse, leaving the good girl in deep pain, and at first, Lynn could force a smile to go to the dying and send them a quiet and peaceful blessing. But more and more dead, more and more desperate, the loss of too many lives made her gradually painful, and the eyes of those who were unwilling to die before death were like nails that chiseled through her fragile heart, releasing the negative emotions in it. And the only person she could rely on at this time, the cursed crow, was extremely cold after the collapse of the molten iron city, and Lin didn't know that this was a side effect of the sorcerer's full effort, she only felt the cold.

Everything has a price, and just as Cheese ignores the outside world when he is focused, the expression of Crow's concentration is the ultimate calm, in which he can temporarily forget the fear of death and put all his energy into solving problems. It was in this situation that the sorcerer walked through the dimly lit tunnels, and the cries of the dying and the howls of the living could be heard from time to time in the small rooms on either side. He stepped over the warm corpse beneath his feet, past the poor man who couldn't tell the way because of his grief, and the tunnel in front of him grew brighter and more noisy. The smell that permeated the air irritated the nasal passages of people, the smell of blood.

"Hold on, boys, beat the damned rats back!" the Archduke, who had no bearskin cloak and even a headband that had been worn crookedly in battle, wielded his trademark war hammer and shouted from behind a line of crates and debris. There was blood on his face, some of his own, and some of the nezumi who had been blown off their heads by a warhammer. "Come on, you hairy monsters, come on, try the dwarven hammer!" Andrew was in an abnormal state of excitement, his skin was tinged a faint blood-red with excitement, and even experienced warriors would know that this was a very dangerous state, and anger beyond the limit brought power as well as deadly danger.

"Buckham, go protect the Grand Duke!, two men follow me!" Leon cleanly decapitated the nezumi with a long sword in his hand, his brow furrowed, but the calmness of his words showed a different mental state from that of the dwarf. The Blood Lion, of course, also wants to give everything to Fury, let the most primitive forces lead him to fight, and then die. But that didn't work, the knight's rules constrained him to fight to protect the people in the passage behind him, and he couldn't let go so easily.

"Understood!" one was long and the other was short, and the two silver scimitars had been worn out by excessive killing, and even if it was a sword forged by an elf, its edge was curled up by too much killing. Bakem's face was covered by a blood-stained bandage that obscured his blind eyes, and the young elf's mantle was completely graceless, like a wounded beast, sticking out his fangs at all enemies who dared to approach.

"Get out of the way, elf boy! dwarves don't need elven protection!" Andrew exclaimed as he spotted the man in front of him, but his muscles twitched uncontrollably from the fatigue, sweat making the dwarf's skin even more rosy. "You must rest!" Bakham said, turning around and stabbing the longknife into the abdomen as the nezumi tried to climb over the cover. "You've been fighting for too long, even a dwarf can get tired. The young knight drew his weapon, only to be scratched in the shoulder by another enemy. Bakham slammed the hilt of his dagger to knock down his own enemy, and the long knife sliced through the hairy throat without hesitation.

"Quack, quack!" A large number of crow cries rang out from behind the defenders, and countless black shadows rushed past them into the nezumi ranks. The red-eyed crows with their sharp beaks seemed to have lost their minds, attacking the weak parts of the nezumi such as their eyes and ears. Their noisy sounds bothered bestiacs who were extremely sensitive to sound.

"Looks like our wizard has finally woken up. The dwarf leaned on his hammer and turned to look at the cursed ravens as they walked this way.