Ciudad Zilvaza, Ishor district. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Surrounded by mountains and covered with snow, the Cutting Blade Temple stands majestically. It's just this bizarre and tortuous night, which changes in an instant.

In the early hours of October 21, 1621 in the Walton Gregorian calendar, in the cave behind the Temple of Cutting Front, the time returned to seven hours ago. A pillar of red light that broke through the night sky rose from the surface of the dense primitive back mountain, piercing the sky with a laser breaking through the clouds.

Then the moon hanging over the western mountain gradually dimmed, and the originally slightly reddish state dimmed in an instant, as if dyed with the color of blood.

In the wee hours of the morning, the night was thick, and the dark sky was still studded with a few sparse remnant stars. The city of Zilvaza slept on this most ordinary night, and the occasional nocturnal soldier patrolled the tavern, for there was always one or two drunken prodigals in the all-night taverns, or some union thugs beating them out in groups.

However, the two passes in and out of the city of Zilvaza were invaded by mysterious black shadows.

They walked silently in the night with a blood moon, as swift as forest squirrels, and could hardly have detected their movements without the well-developed hearing of canines. The night was slightly cool, cold as ice, and finally could not stop the footsteps of evil.

Calamity is still coming.

Before the sleepy soldiers guarding the city gate could tense their nerves, they were all wiped out. For a time, the entire imperial capital was like an empty city unguarded, and naturally the road was unblocked, and there were thousands of empty alleys.

The pillar of energy that broke through the sky released some kind of terrifying particles in all directions, staining the air gray, but it was dark at night, and it was seamlessly combined with the dark blue sky, to a point where it was difficult to distinguish with the naked eye. These calamity particles, like viruses sprinkled in the air, infect all the people in the city of Zilvaza who wander in their dreams at the rate at which ink dissolves into water.

The Necromantic Legion emerged neatly from the void that cracked through the streets.

They are different from the puppet necromancers that have appeared around the world in the past, and have a very terrifying name, War Machines.

No emotion, no self-awareness, only obeying orders, this is the most basic requirement of being a war machine.

Even the war machines have a strict system on par with the military class, and they are also divided into three, six, nine, and so on, with lich squads that cast spells from a distance, and necromantic squads that fight in close combat, and are not inferior to longbowmen and plate armor at all. It's just the same, they have a great advantage in innate ability, and they are not afraid of any devastating attack compared to mortal bodies.

It was just beginning, and the necromantic army appeared, but it was nothing more than the bell of Calamity.

When the Necro Soldiers appeared, they were naturally there to capture the human soldiers who patrolled and were stationed throughout the city of Zilvaza. Their abilities are not strong enough to fight against those Imperial rank figures, and even if they hit one by one, there is no guarantee that they will be able to suppress them, so such a way of winning by quantity is not advisable.

Training camp in the Ishur district, inside a red-brick Roman complex.

General Alves, who had not slept all night, was standing in front of a wooden board of Pascal's empire, drawing the line of deployment of troops on the border checkpoint with the help of the red light of the magic lamp. The cluttered wooden square table was full of all kinds of faded historical books and art of war, and a bowl of cold mung bean soup remained untouched all night.

The white curtain was drawn.

The soldiers stationed there were sweating profusely, their faces pale.

"General, there seems to be an accident at the various checkpoints stationed in the city! Moreover, there is an anomaly in the southwest direction. ”

"What phenomenon?" Alves thought that this would be the second trial, and there shouldn't be any major problems, in addition to the elites from the various cities of the Pascal Empire, there were also many well-known knights and powerful generals stationed in all directions of the Cutting Edge Temple, and not even a fly could fly in.

"Sky...... A pillar of red light appeared! The moon also turned red!" The little soldier who had been standing guard outside had a childish face, obviously just joined, and was a little frightened by the unexpected incident, and stammered.

"Red pillars of light?" Alves turned his head back, his tone hesitant. "Is there any movement over there?"

"Report to the general! No! I have asked the big brother of the communication soldier to contact the outpost stationed at the Cutting Blade Temple, but there has been no response. Besides, the patrol team on our side hasn't come back for a shift change by then......"

Alves was startled, and a meteor strode past him, quickly opening the curtain and walking out the door.

Maybe he was too nervous, he didn't expect to hit a wall of flesh, and the whole person almost fell backwards. As soon as he steadied his heels and looked up, his right hand reached for the scabbard hanging from his waist, and he drew his sword to point at the large, orange-eyed enemy.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

"Ahh

"The Last Executioner?" Alves had never been so stunned, he stopped the little soldier who wanted to rush out to help him, and then turned back to the sword in his hand and pointed at the bad comer, and did not act rashly. Reason told him that the fierce man in front of him was not only powerful, but also the special magic power that escaped was immeasurable, if he hid his strength, it would be unimaginable.

Sain sat down, stretched out his arm-thick little finger to pick out his boogers, and yawned lazily.

When the huge axe in his hand fell to the ground, it was like a small meteorite smashing into the ground, striking a deep pit and disintegrating the blue brick floor. I saw him take out a bloody human head from the black cloth bag tied around his waist and throw it to Alves, shook off the blood stains and said: "Give you two ways! One is to fight with me, and if you lose, you will sacrifice your head, and the other is to surrender automatically and become a prisoner!"

The little soldier who had never seen the world didn't think about it, so he crossed in front of Alves, and said something full of anger that he would not bow to the evil forces.

It's a pity that he was knocked unconscious by Alves before he could finish speaking.

"Yo, you're afraid I'll kill him, so you knocked him out! You seem to be much more stubborn than those old stubborn people who don't know how to learn. ”

"What is your intention?" Alves suppressed his uneasiness, and asked with a pretended fearless face, desperate to know what was going on. He looked at the man in front of him who didn't look like a human, with a pair of long fangs protruding from his chin that reached his cheeks and cheekbones.

"It's a pity! You're the last general to keep your sense of self!