Morning Light stroked the field with its slender fingers, and the colors of the world gradually returned to view. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 Under the thin spring mist, knights in armor rode gray horses, holding shadowy spears, the tips of hundreds of spears shone with a silver cold light, and countless flying battle flags were rusted with sun coats of arms, shining noble gold in the first rays of the sun.

Morris rode at the front of the line, his armor was dented, his cloak was covered with blood, his sharp sword swung back and forth at his waist, like the tail of a ox dispelling mosquitoes and flies, and behind him, hundreds of soldiers stared blankly into the distance, as if the station in front of them was not the way back.

Alan stood in front of Morris's tent with a panoramic view. A few days ago, when the wizard Sauron confessed the strange story, he was not surprised, he had seen the living dead with Sersi in Nipur earlier, and when asked who had done it, Sauron first said the word 'not much', and then he gave a long list of names that he could not even remember.

"It's horrible....." Alan whispered to himself as he looked at the 'dead man's knight'. It's not that those people look terrible, but that in the past few days, at the repeated requests of Sersi and him, Sauron has no choice but to show them the trick of 'turning the dead'. "I don't think there's any witchcraft in the world more cruel than this!" Sauron, while they were in an airtight tent at the station, told the two of them as he shook the dark red potion, "and there was blood, and of course there was something else. ”

Despite the white-robed wizard's repeated stress that the casting process could cause discomfort, they persisted. "Little ghost, I've seen more dead people than you've ever eaten bread!, do your job, and we'll see!" said Sersi to the white-robed wizard.

As the words lingered in the closed tent, Sauron tore open a piece of black velvet that covered his chair. In the dim light of the fire, Alan caught a glimpse of a man with a haggard face and two gray beards. With his hands tied behind his back in his chair and a rag in his mouth, he seemed to have stopped struggling, but the horror in his eyes was enough to show how terrified he was. "You two, you're insisting on it!" Sauron magically pulled out a knife, no bigger than his thumb, and glanced at the two of them, then grabbed the handle of the knife and extended the blade to the man's head.....

As soon as he thought of this, Alan suddenly felt a churn in his abdomen, and he covered his colic stomach, and couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the cavalry who were gradually walking in. "I've already told you that the casting process can cause discomfort. Sauron said as he looked at Sercy, who was gagging one after another. His hands were covered in blood, and he couldn't tell if it was blood or medicine.

Just three minutes ago, Eren saw him use his blade to open the man's celestial spirit lid, and then slowly pour the red potion into it. After a brief moment of silence, the man let out a scream that almost tore his eardrums, and the bruises on his face erupted, and blood flowed down his sunken eye sockets, followed by his gaping nostrils, ears, mouth, and every pore of his body.....

This went on for three minutes before the man stopped howling. When the tent was completely silent, the lean body in front of him could only be called a skin, and the potion devoured his flesh, voice, and right to live. Eventually, Sauron injected mercury into it to ensure that the living dead would last longer. "Why don't you kill them and cast a spell?" Alan had asked him.

"For the blood of the dead does not circulate, and only the blood of the living can absorb all the potions and mercury. Sauron carefully poured mercury into the corpse as he explained, "When all the blood is drained and the potion takes its place, they will no longer be robbers, thieves, or traitors, but immortal people loyal to their lords....."

"A friend from afar?"

Alan looked up and saw Maurice on his horse, looking at him with tired eyes. "It seems that my station is really too bad, and your complexion is not as good as when you were in exile!" said the knight with a smile as he turned and dismounted.

Sauron seemed to hear the sound of his uncle's return, and somewhere he got out of nowhere to grab the reins, then stood on tiptoe and whispered in Morris's ear in Alan's presence. The latter nodded again and again, his face did not change in any way, as if he had expected everything.

"Is it true that if we know this secret, we will never be able to leave?" Alan guessed what Sauron was talking about, "or worse, you want to turn us into the living dead?"

Morris looked up and smiled tiredly. "What are you talking about, friend? He patted his horse on the back, and the horse opened its hooves and followed his nephew to the stable, "I think Sauron must have explained to you that concealment is good, because no one wants to live with a group of corpses, right?"

"This is also a helpless move!" Alan was about to speak, but Moseley took the lead, "If the lord can send enough men, why should I lead a group of dead men to fight on the battlefield when I am old?" he sighed, "God, they won't even fart! If it were you, would you be willing?"

Eren shrugged a little irritably. "It's cruel!" he commented, looking at the living dead on horseback.

"It's cruel!" Maurice lifted the curtain with one hand and patted Alan on the shoulder with the other, "but it is undeniable that those people were criminals in their lives, and although they did not deserve death, it was the punishment of the sun, and Sauron and I usually had to comfort ourselves in this way. He walked over to the table and sat down, his eyes full of fatigue.

"Tell me about your outing, sir. Alan sat down next to Maurice, and as soon as his ass was next to the chair, Sauron lifted the curtain and walked in. They were joined by Sercy and Steven.

"Obviously, I didn't bring you any souvenirs. Morris spread his hands, then gestured to the cup on the table. Sauron flipped over a glass and poured half a glass of wine and pushed it over. "Go get some food, Sauron. Morris took the cup and commanded.

Alan barely managed to squeeze out a smile. "Tell me, what the fuck are the Assyrians doing at the border?" he asked Maurice, taking the glass from Sauron.

"What else could there be!" said Maurice, taking a sip of sour wine, "two years ago, the lord of Assyria called, ..... What's it called? Damn, I forgot!"

"White!" Alan reminded him.

"Look, you young people have a good memory!" Morris frowned slightly, and quickly stretched, "It's him, that guy spends money like water, in just one year, he spent all the money of Assyria, and borrowed money from our Sunshine City, but at the cost of their ghost forest, turned into our hunting grounds, ha!"

"And then?" Alan scratched his nose. He was a little anxious to hear the news that White had reversed course and had been beaten to the ground by the legions of the living dead.