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Caught off guard, Derek landed directly on his face, and finally couldn't resist the pain and didn't scream, and after recovering his sense of touch, he suddenly felt that there seemed to be something soft on his face, and his mouth and nose were sticky and fishy.

The young man opened his eyes through a slit, and a rotting eyeball, half-buried in the dirt, stared straight at him, and several fat live maggots poked out of the whites of their eyes, nodding to him in a friendly manner.

The white chubby live maggot obviously didn't have much excitement to the other party, and continued to wriggle unconsciously, and even playfully flicked Derek's eyelashes.

This action caused the young man to collapse completely, and he controlled his mouth with what little sanity he had left, trying to stop himself from screaming, and writhing desperately like the maggots in front of him, trying to get away from the rotting eyeballs.

Old Hank felt that his cheap son was struggling violently, and had to press Derek in place with more force, while raising his head slightly and observing everything in front of him through the branches and leaves of the bushes.

The surrounding banging was getting louder and denser, as if something behemoth was approaching.

The forest was moving, the branches and leaves were shaken off, and between the huge tree trunks, a huge body with rough skin and a bloated and fat body appeared in front of him.

The colossal creature looked ten feet tall, taller than an upright brown bear, and girded more than twice as much as the surrounding trees. The skin is covered with rough folds, and the body color is not visible when it is covered in dirt. On that round ugly head, there was a huge eyeball, which took up a third of the entire face.

Cyclops...... There are living cyclops in the primeval forest. And it looks like it's a small tribe,

When the old tomb robber watched a group of cyclops walk out of the forest carrying thick sticks through the heavy branches and leaves, his heart suddenly pounded.

The cyclops, a creature somewhere between humans and monsters, belonged to the ancient subhuman race.

Long before the "Fairy Descending Generation", he occupied a large amount of territory in Antlasu. It was an all-round competition with human ancestors, and this era is known as the "Age of the Millennium War" by contemporary Rosevia scholars.

The intelligence of the sub-human race is slightly inferior, and the physical strength is far superior to that of human ancestors. Therefore, it has an advantage in the initial stage, and even exterminated human beings several times.

However, due to the superiority of physical endowments, they are too superstitious about the power of primitive barbarism, so they lack the awareness of recording history and passing on knowledge. Most don't even form their own grammar.

This way of survival doesn't matter at the beginning. But after a dozen generations, the ills of primitive barbarism will be exposed.

The loss of force, knowledge, and technological reserves is still the most superficial phenomenon.

The real consequence is the lack of history and grammar, which makes the sub-race cohesive, and can only continue in the form of tribes, unable to form a higher form of organization.

Human beings, who are good at recording and inheriting, have absorbed the heritage of history and continued to grow, on the one hand, relying on grammar to move towards a higher form of organization. On the one hand, he relied on words to accumulate war experience.

When humanity completes the transformation from tribe to nation, and systematically sorts out the way in which the fire of life is ignited. After the transmission was recorded in written form, the balance of war was completely tilted.

The peak state of the fire of life during the "Millennium War" is a quasi-natural disaster when converted to the current rank, and the high-level combat power in the sub-race is almost at this level, and occasionally one or two freaks will appear.

However, the high-end combat power of the subhuman race is one less than one, and it is extremely difficult to cultivate another one, while the quasi-natural disasters of the human race have increased rapidly by relying on systematic cultivation, and finally they have been completely suppressed in terms of quantity.

In the end, the "Millennium War" ended with the complete defeat of the sub-race, and in the face of a powerful enemy that could threaten their position and have a heart for revenge, the human ancestors naturally did not have a trace of tolerance for the sub-race.

Before the advent of the "Age of the Goblins", they were unwavering in their genocidal plans against the sub-race, cleansing land by land, and slaughtering tribe by tribe, so that the latter was almost extinct in Atlasu.

These sages can be said to be the saviors and continuators of human civilization, if at that time they had even a trace of compassion for the subrace. Then, after the advent of the "Age of Fairies", the goblins with overwhelming power at that time will inevitably support the sub-race to carry out one proxy war after another against humans in order to maintain their transcendent status.

Until both of them are exhausted and can no longer compete with them, and obediently become the servants of the elves.

At that time, there would naturally be no splendid "Age of Magical Miracles", no "Glorious Torch Age" of the full rise of mankind, and naturally no "Golden Imperial Book" that would make all the fairy lords lose their dignity.

Even in the "Age of Magical Miracles" when goblins could directly intervene in the material world, human beings still accepted mediation on the surface, and secretly strangled subhuman races never stopped, not to mention the current glorious era when human beings were fully rising and dominating.

Of course, if there are only one or two wild animals, then people are happy to keep them in nature reserves like precious animals, and keep sending supplies to show their equal fraternity.

But once a tribe-organized subhuman race emerges, rulers can't help but recall the "era of the Thousand Years' War" when rivers of blood flowed and humanity was almost wiped out.

Anyway, it is wiser to nip the threat in the bud than to be free and equal - the dead subhumans are the good ones.

Therefore, if you find a sub-race that organizes activities with tribes in the wild, it is almost a level of fortune to pick up treasures, and as long as you can report this information, you will be rich.

Old Hank had a lot of savings, so he didn't have much idea of bounty, but he cared more about the other reward of providing information about the subhuman race—the abonement of all guilt except for rebellion.

The Highland Kingdom has this rule, and the Rosevia Empire also has this rule, although the two nations are sworn enemies and feuds for thousands of years, but compared with the sub-race, it can only be regarded as a struggle within their own people.

The old grave robber just picked up a cheap son. How can you "cultivate him into a talent", and watch the other party pass on his surname, where can he be willing to go to prison.

"As long as you can get some Cyclops' body hair or molt as evidence. I'll get away with it!" thought Old Hank, his breathing rate to a minimum, his eyes shining.

The old tomb robber was lurking, and was suddenly awakened by a loud noise, and his eyes turned to the source of the sound, and he was immediately stunned by the scene before him—the sunlight penetrated the dense foliage, and the light fell on the earth, but the erosion and damp ground in front of him was swallowing the sunlight. There was a surging gray-black bubble.

The cyclops carrying thick sticks suddenly knelt in the direction of the black earth, and raised their arms high against the strange land that devoured the sun. Their ugly faces are full of fanaticism. The mouth covered with tawny fangs opened and closed and made a muffled snoring sound.

As the Cyclops began to worship, the entire forest gradually began to move, and the branches and foliage met the waving arms of the subhuman. It also began to swing regularly and rhythmically.

Inside the forest. All the branches and leaves swayed at the same time, which was shocking.

Those Cyclops...... Are those cyclops worshipping their totems?

The old tomb robber opened his mouth wide and was stunned for a moment, and immediately came back to his senses, feeling very wrong, not only did the black land not have a sense of totem sacredness, but there was an indescribable evil.

Derek didn't struggle anymore, the scene in front of him was even stranger and more dangerous than the two friendly fat maggots. He had to be on his guard.

The strange rituals of the Cyclops didn't last long, after the last worship. Their arms suddenly dropped. He rose slowly from the muddy ground, his expression bloated, his skin wrinkling in waves as he got up.

Then they gathered together in twos and threes, walked cautiously to the black earth, leaned down their heavy bodies, and bent over the surface of the silt.

Before they could guess what they were doing, they saw a cyclops dig through the mud and pull out something from under the stinking mud.

It was a thick, brown tentacle that was still wrestling in its hands after being pulled out of the soil by the Cyclops, mucus gushing from the torn wound and a burst of gray bubbles as it dripped to the ground.

After digging up the tentacles, the Cyclops were so happy that they clapped their palms and grunted without knowing what to say, and then they swarmed to the iron pot where the soup was boiling.

The blood water rolled in the large iron pot, mixed with the skin, hair, and organs of various animals, and after the fat and viscous tentacles were thrown into the blood water, a pungent smell of blood suddenly rose to the sky.

Old Hank and Derek, who were not far away, were so smoked that they almost vomited, and they managed to survive by pinching their noses.

The blood boiled for only half a minute, and the cyclops who found the tentacles stretched out his palm and couldn't wait to fish out the tentacles. Immediately afterward, all the cyclops around it surrounded it, and there was an urgent howl in its throat, and seven or eight thick fat hands reached over, hula pulled in all directions, put it in its mouth and chewed it.

When he saw clearly that the cyclops was eating a mass of brown tentacles, the old tomb robber hurriedly put his exclamation in his mouth.

Seeing the cyclops tear open their tentacles and chew the brown pieces of flesh with relish, he shivered all over his body, and felt his stomach begin to turn violently.

"Vomit ......"

The old grave robber held back, but his cheap son didn't, covering his mouth and spitting out a pile of undigested crumbled jam.

The one-eyed people foraging for food were immediately alarmed, and they all turned around, their huge gray, cloudy eyeballs glaring at the bushes, and let out an angry and menacing roar.

......

Highland Kingdom, Underground Palace.

Aree sat quietly in the dark, soothing his boiling blood with the help of mountains of ice around him—his skin was cold and warm, and there seemed to be a fire burning silently in his body.

Countless images of flowing lava and poisonous gases were reflected in his eyes, the smell of hot sulfur was in his nose, and countless overlapping howls echoed in his ears.

The "Lord of Fear" no longer erodes his consciousness at all times, and "he" creates a series of projections of hell to demonstrate to his fragile personality by torturing his senses.

So far, the black-haired knight has been able to keep himself, but he knows that the pain has only just begun, that the greater torture is still in the later stages, and that it will come to an end sooner or later.

The only way to defeat the "Lord of Fear" is to unite man and God, and the trick is to solidify the personality and project it into the Godhead, so that they influence each other and work in sync. However, how to solidify one's personality is a difficult problem that varies from person to person, at least, there are not many origin knights who can do this.

Yalei is a well-read person, but there are indeed very few books in this area, and even the most precious Douqi Secret Book has no way to corrode the deification.

The black-haired knight took a breath of cold air, but the hot blood in his body had been boiling for a long time, and he tried to condense his spirit to the stargate, so as to avoid the senses of his body and regain a little energy.

However, this time the feeling was completely different from the previous ones, those omnipresent howls suddenly faded away, and the burning sensation surging in the body suddenly disappeared - the space seemed to be evacuated for a moment, as if nothing existed except silence and darkness.

In the dark, in the deepest darkness, a pair of eyes like burning liquid magma were peering coldly at him in the deepest part of his soul.

"Obey me, obey my dominance, and all pain will disappear. A voice suddenly told him.

“......”

Yalei responded with a mental shock.

At this moment, the black-haired knight's eyes went dark, and then he found himself in a cold cell, with an uninterrupted sound coming from his ears, strange and distorted, like countless people wailing and crying. 、

The stone slabs on the surrounding walls were stained with blood, and the finger marks left by the prisoner's scratching were impressively covered, and the inhuman wails in the ears continued to be heard, becoming clearer and clearer.

Yalei knew that this was an illusion, but he didn't expect the "King of Fear" to be able to weave such a real illusion in an instant, it was ...... It's like the king of lies.

He tried to move his body, but found himself bound to the bracket by chains, and was struggling violently, when suddenly he heard a "squeak" and a rusty iron door in front of him suddenly opened.

A strong smell of blood hit his nose, choking the black-haired knight and couldn't breathe for a while.

Inside the dark iron gate, a person Shi Shiran walked out, smiling.

The moment the black-haired knight saw the other party, he immediately became angry, and the familiar purple-haired sea head floated in the air, making him feel the urge to reach out and tear it off.

"It's been a long time since we've seen each other......"

Marchiri walked up to Yare, pursed his lips and smiled very gentlemanly, his eyes looked at the row of torture instruments on the right, reached out and took a sharp bone-piercing nail, and turned it nimbly around his fingertips:

"I didn't expect you to fall into my hands one day, it's really an unexpected reunion. ”

With that, he crouched down and placed the nail on the black-haired knight's knee, pinpointing the gap between the joints, and punched the entire nail into Are's knee.

"Destroying your proud and strong body is the first part of the game. Marchiri smiled and licked her lips as she lifted another peg:

"And I'm patient enough to give you a taste of what life is better than death. ”

[It's about to be 515, I hope to continue to hit the 515 red envelope list, and the red envelope rain will be able to give back to readers and promotional works on May 15. A piece is also love, and it must be better!] (To be continued.) )