The fact that this rune mage was still a wizard made the two priests look at each other in amazement—there was such a knowledgeable mage. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

He stood high in the air, looking down at them like a god, clearly playing tricks on the two of them.

Derian tossed a miniature shield the size of a thumb made of resin and smeared it on Baron Colin's guard, armor from the Netherworld covering the steel frame.

The Black Flame Chain encircled the guards standing in front of the priest, and a black hole suddenly appeared at the end of the chain, which was the path to the underworld.

Derian no longer cares about the guards, the Nether Armor has a powerful ability to protect against the Void Body, and the purpose of the Void Black Flame Chain is to tear away the soul of the person.

The other chain that attacked Priest Haru was kept out of the white shield of the Sanctuary. He waved the crystal scepter slightly, and the few rings on his hand immediately shone with five-colored brilliance, and the gorgeous robes also flowed with strange light.

The rune mage's face was grim, the priest of the Lady of Fortune has always smashed people with money in battle, with almost no exceptions.

Saint Bai's spell book flipped rapidly, stopping at the spell model of the projectile item, and the invisible mage's hand held a bottle of alchemy acid and threw it from the sky.

Flashing with a faint orange light, he headed straight for Priest Haru with great accuracy, his swift speed leaving only a faint trail in the air.

Priest Haru stood in place with his scepter outstretched, his hair spread out, and the iron ring that tied his hair behind his head fluttered.

The divine magic sequence composed of six rings bloomed with extremely dazzling white light, and the white wings of light stretched out from the back of Priest Haru, the white robe was even more holy, and the old face was also rosy. The Sword of Order of Pure Light appeared in his hand, and he flapped his wings and appeared in front of the rune mage in an instant. He swung his lightsaber rapidly, and the runes that he had spontaneously intercepted were wiped out one by one under the gathered energy.

As soon as the glass bottle slammed to the ground, the mage's head burst into the air with a splattery of blood. However, Haru's majestic face froze slightly, and the mage's body disintegrated into countless particles of light in the air, falling downward.

"It turned out to be the Pengyu Angel Sequence, and the believers of the Lady of Fortune were indeed as extravagant as rumored. The runemage appeared on the ground as if he had been standing there—and he had always been there. A tender green leaf hung from under the mage's earlobe, and in the fine lines, the flowing magic filled the period.

There is neither a spell book nor the brilliance of the arcane.

He is an illusionist who uses color to create virtual illusions. The illusory leaf under his earlobe is the symbol of the loose organization of the Iridescence Apprentices, who meet or correspond from time to time to exchange their profession and even various real-world rumors.

The three overlapping leaves on the cuffs of his white robe represented the opponent's illusion casting level.

And the colors contain innate magic, and they can not only be used as illusions, but can also be compiled into iridescent protective films - he is both a master of illusion and protection.

As always, there was a faint smile on the rune mage's face, and a flat tone sounded in everyone's ears: "I thought that the priests of the north would be a little smarter and use your talent to fight, Lady of Fortune's disciples. ”

Haru's old face was red and white, if it wasn't for Peng Yu's Angel Eye being used by him in advance, how could he be deceived by this iridescent apprentice.

What is the gift of the priests of the Lady of Fortune? They are all qualified merchants, shrewd and calculating, and giving means gain.

Haru flapped his wings violently, and the visible cyan air flow swirled in the air and approached the mage, which was the spell-like ability of the Peng Yu Angel - Wind Creation.

The leaves under the mage's earlobes shook slightly, and the pure blue transparent light shrouded him, and the air struck the shield with a dense crackling sound.

Derian stood at the head of the city, spitting out a holy word, and a grace full of positive energy descended from heaven to bathe Haru, and a glowing silver halo lingered around him.

The mage pursed his lips slightly, it was not as easy as he imagined to hold back these two priests who were becoming more and more brave in battle.

The three surrounding runestones lit up one by one.

The burning temple of war was quickly isolated, and almost all the city's troops were concentrated here. In the raging flames, more and more figures slowly emerged from it—Abyssal Devourers, Latent Demons, and Tyrants.

The holy warriors breathed a sigh of relief, the strength of these low-level demons was not even that of the Black Iron Rank, but their strong resistance to fire allowed them to walk freely in the raging flames.

"Archers! ready, put!"

The city guards quickly fired the first volley, and the half-human, half-demon Divine Fire Cultists were pressed back as soon as they showed their heads.

The Templars frowned, these Divine Fire Cultists were not very powerful, and they rushed out one after another to send them to death, something was wrong.

Byron was hidden in the sparse bushes at the steps of the entrance to the temple, and these plants were about to be trampled by unruly believers, and it was believed that it would not be long before the temple had to be replaced with a new batch of plants.

The faint screams of the wind made the young man clench the axe in his hand—the one the nun had lent him a logging axe.

The path in front of the temple was far away, and the flames swaying at the front of the line made Byron unable to see the scene behind the fire, and he shrank back, hiding himself even deeper.

"Ahh

A man scurried up the steps of the temple with a torch, his gauze-wrapped arm dripping blood.

A shabby linen coat, a swarthy face, and shoes stained with mud, a peasant. He staggered a few steps, then tripped over the steps, and hit his head on the edges of the steps, and the dull sound of bones sent a chill through Byron's heart, and he jumped out quickly.

He picked up the man and picked up the torch that had fallen on the steps, only to find that the man's face was unusually pale, and there were countless scratches on his face, like a woman's indiscriminate scratches when she was protecting herself.

Byron pulled the farmer's machete out of his body, then put him on his shoulders and prepared to drag him into the temple. Perhaps it was the violent shaking that woke the farmer up, and he took a random bite on Byron, who was thrown out.

The man got up, his mouth screaming wildly, his eyes shaking up and down.

"Damn. Byron drew his machete, and in the muffled chant, the tip of his index finger flashed with icy power.

The farmer had fallen into a complete pathological madness, and Byron did not know what had happened to the man. But the other party looked very much like some kind of creature in his vague memory—zombies.

Byron subconsciously glanced at his bitten arm, and a trace of panic flashed in his heart.