A blazing fire bomb with a low wind whistle passed through the hall.

In the sloping ground, three or five crystal clear ice spears roared out and stabbed heavily on the fire bomb.

The collision of ice and fire, instantaneous vaporization and explosion, set off a violent air flow in mid-air, spreading in all directions. But soon, this violent air flow was overwhelmed by the stronger aura surging around it.

And the captain of this hunting team, the sturdy male wizard, stood in the very center of this eighteenth-level storm.

Under his feet, those soft plush carpets stretched out one after another ropes to chase his life, trying to restrain this brutal tyrannosaurus, but with little success.

Bang, bang, bang!

The sound of the rope breaking was faint mixed with the roar of the rune cannon in the dwarf's arms. But no matter how weak it was, the ropes caused a certain obstacle to the captain of the hunting team, and every step he took was like being in a swamp, which was extremely laborious.

"Change the magazine!" the dwarf yelled, "Buy me a little time!"

Before he could finish speaking, the roar of the cannons came to an abrupt end.

A few skinny, skinny old lichs took advantage of the barrage to dissipate, jumping quickly between the coffee table and the sofa, like a group of old mountain monkeys.

In a matter of moments, they broke through the defensive barrier of the hunting team and rushed in front of several young hunters.

Then they ripped off their voluminous robes, revealing their bony bodies.

"Quack, quack!"

The old lich's strange smile was as ugly as that of crows, and their eyes were full of greed when they looked at the young hunter, like a hungry tiger seeing a lost lamb, and wolves surrounding the wounded doe.

Whew, whew!

Several old lichs rushed up with their mouths grown, and the howling wind swept through the hall, sweeping away the cold ice spears, the fiery magma, and the faintly electric thunderballs, and swallowed them all into their stomachs.

The abundant magic poured into the body, and the emaciated old lich suddenly inflated like water-filled balloons, and the wrinkled old skin stretched out and became smooth and strong again. They were naked, their muscles knotted as iron, their bodies as huge as mountains, and their open palms, like the sharp claws of goshawks, shone coldly, and grabbed at the young wizards in the field.

Whew!

Several streaks of sword light bloomed in the cold glow of the sharp claws, and in no particular order, they slashed out. But the old lich took advantage of the situation to summon a few rock shields to block the sword light.

The shattered sand and gravel are like waves crashing on the reef, carrying huge kinetic energy and scattering in all directions. The lichs who rushed into the hunting array couldn't help but squint because they were blocked by the flying sand and gravel.

It was in that moment.

A fist glowing with a faint black light had burst out of the turbid and raging air, crashing head-on into the faces of the old lichs.

It seemed to be just a punch, but it appeared in front of all the lichs at the same time.

A lich that broke into the hunting array watched as the aura swirling around the fist grew darker and bigger, until finally, it covered the whole world like a curtain. Although it is in the house, it still gives it the feeling that the sun and the moon are dull and the sky and the earth are turned upside down.

It screamed, gathering its strength desperately, and stacked its hands on top of each other to meet the falling fist.

"Fantian Seal!"

The stout wizard's low roar reached its eardrums, but it was too late.

That punch fell, like a Tarzan being upside down by a desolate giant and smashing downward. The moment the lich put his hands on it, a dull thunderclap rang out in the room.

After the thunder, there was a torrential rain.

Cracking sound!

The Lich's fists, arms, shoulders, and bones crackled from top to bottom. The shattered flesh was enveloped in the black fist, and without slowing down, slammed into the old lich's chest, and once again resounded a series of cannon-like explosions.

Bang! Bang!

A few broken pockets of flesh flew upside down from the hunting array and slammed against the dirty walls. In the image hanging on the wall, a group of demons with red glint in their eyes smiling sharply, swarming up, dragging the broken 'leather bags' into the heavy portrait.

It was only at this moment that the sand and gravel that had been cleaved by another young hunter slowly fell to the ground.

The dust settled.

Revealing the shiny sturdy upper body of the captain of this hunting team.

"Phew!" he spat heavily on the ground: "A group of old immortals, dare to fight with me...... Haven't you heard of the boxing fear Shaozhuang?!"

On the carpet, a small head emerges from under the cloak previously discarded by the captain of the hunting team, revealing the head of a young witch.

She opened her big round eyes, looking left and right, although her body was still trembling, her voice was much braver than her body: "Do you still fight?

"it!" The captain of the hunting team looked gloomy and shouted back: "I just wanted to hit the old ghost of Ulrich by surprise, but I didn't expect to hit the iron plate...... Get ready to run!"

"All right!" the little girl suddenly became elated.

"It's just ......" The captain of the hunting team tightened the fist gloves on his hands, and looked at the black wall at the end of the room with shining eyes: "It's hard to come here, you have to do something." ”

On the black walls, the decorated, withered heads seemed to hear his voice.

Slightly fluttering in the chill.

......

......

Sir Ulrich opened his eyes with a confused expression.

It turned its head and glanced at the Captain of the Mist.

Mr. Captain lowered his head, as if he was thinking about the philosophy of the demon, and did not have the slightest idea of looking at the old lich. The old lich shifted his gaze to the side and landed on the little banshee beside him, and Nikita seemed to have an inquirement, and a flattering smile immediately appeared on his face.

Sir Ulrich shook his head and withdrew his gaze.

Whether it was the dwarves' indiscriminate talismans, the witches' furious thunder spells, the young hunter's sword light, or the hall where the hunting captain's fist was cracked into a pot of porridge, none of them were in Sir Ulrich's eyes.

In other words, all this in front of him is not in the sight of the two big demons.

In their view, behind any accident, there is a series of inevitability. The reckless hunting party in front of them was nothing more than small bugs that interfered with their vision. If they choose to appear here, then there must be an even greater black hand hidden behind them.

The target of that black hand could be Captain Mist or Jazz himself.

The house was bustling.

The gaze of the great demons had already passed over this chaos and landed on a more far-reaching place.

But with Sir Ulrich's vast divine thoughts sweeping through the Yellow Ground several times, and his wizened fingers pinching off hundreds of chips, there was still a dead silence behind these young hunters.

It is not as sinister as it imagined that the Wizarding Alliance was heavily besieged and some great wizards joined forces to besiege it. And it didn't notice that Captain Mist or the other Great Demons of the Four Seas had anything to do with it.

Is it really just a coincidence?

At this moment, a soft hum sounded in the old lich's ears:

"Secret Technique: Yan Returns!"