Chris breathed a sigh of relief, and with a flip of his hand, a golden scroll was revealed. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

This is the eighth-level magic that Darnell gave him, Holy Light Protection, just now Chris took it out immediately after landing on the ground, facing such a sage, this is the only hole card left by Cris.

The absolute protection within twenty seconds, coupled with the time limit of the roar of the god of war has not disappeared, in the face of Landnor, who has no field, Chris still has the strength to fight.

However, fortunately, Landnor did not start, and he walked very simply.

It's just that Chris is still a little confused, why did this gray-clothed sword master come from?

In the distance, from the direction where he had disappeared, a word came: "You'd better not let your two elves appear in front of the priesthood." ”

Although there was no human figure, the voice seemed to be in the ear, and it was extremely clear.

The three of them changed color together.

Not because of Landnor's ability to manipulate vindictiveness, but because of his words.

Alternatively, it could be inferred from his words that it was difficult for the priesthood to easily penetrate the disguise magic of Pandiche and Stiena.

Pandis's face showed a look of horror, and Chris groaned for a moment, comforting: "What Landnor said should be true, let's be careful in the future." ”

He groaned and sat up.

"Be careful!" Pandis helped him, and Stiena stepped forward to take his arm.

"Don't be so nervous, I'm fine. Chris said.

"They all vomited blood and said they were fine. Pandis's tears were almost about to fall again.

Chris looked at his chest and smiled wryly.

The placket on his chest has been shattered into pieces of cloth, revealing the black light armor inside-Wind Exploration, since it was exchanged by Chris in the Lantis Academy, it has been a few years now, and the Wind Whispering Technique and Wind Kite Technique attached to it are extremely in line with Chris's wishes, and the defense ability attached to it has reduced a lot of damage to the body.

But now, the position of the light armor's chest has been broken hard, a broken and broken hole is exposed, even the close-fitting underwear has become a strip, and on the chest, you can clearly see that there are still a large bruises on the skin and muscles.

The wound on the outside was nothing more than this, but every time he breathed, the stinging pain in his chest reminded Chris all the time, and his internal organs were also not lightly injured.

Chris stood up, breathing carefully.

It's good to be alive!

Pandis delivered the cure just in time, and Stiena delivered the healing potion to him.

Feeling a little better, Chris removed from his tattered light armor and clothes, especially the one that had become tattered.

"Let's go!"

Pandis and Stiena helped him back to the car.

In the dimly lit Bernie Tavern, there were many guests sitting at a dozen round brown wooden tables.

Men with swords on their bare heads, beards with iron rings all over their noses and mouths, one-eyed warriors, slender but hideous women, drunkards who smell of alcohol, all kinds of people have one thing in common - the smell of blood, not just the feeling, some even have dark red marks on their armor.

In this Kibu Collar, known as the "City of Mercenaries", such people don't need to come to the tavern, and even meet a lot of them casually on the street, and from a certain point of view, they can even be called the specialty of Kibu Collar, that is, mercenaries.

The curtain of the tavern was lifted, and a bard entered, and he looked up towards a table in the corner, for there was only one man sitting at that table.

The bard backhanded the wooden harp on his back in his hand, across his chest, with a humble smile on his face - this is the uniform etiquette of the bards, which can clearly show their identity, and in addition, they can also block the attacks of some mercenaries who "joke" with them, you know, the bard has always been a profession that is despised by mercenaries, and only the god of light will know whether the mercenary in front of him is in a good mood or not.

"May I sit here?" the bard bowed pleasantly, and at a glance he saw the appearance of the mercenary sitting alone, with a straight face, his chin covered with green stubble, but cleanly shaved, and his body exuding an air very different from that of the rest of the mercenaries, his eyes drooping, he drank only a little of the ale on the table, and his hands were under the table—who knows if he held the hilt of his sword.

The bard regretted a little, the mercenary was obviously waiting for someone.

"Go away!" was a low voice, but unquestionable, and there was an undisguised contempt in his tone - in fact, it was not to blame these mercenaries for such prejudices, troubadours were a specialty of the Middle Ages on the mainland, and they made up many novel stories by their own wisdom. Sometimes they were invited to the lord's castle, and the nobles, the young lady, and their samurai, each sat in turn in their own capacity, some holding their cheeks in their hands, and some gently loosening their weapons, and when they were leisurely fascinated, they listened attentively to him playing and singing. In the spring, in the lush gardens, in the winter, in the vast salons. Sometimes, they marched to the outskirts, and in the verdant pastures, the resting shepherdesherdes, and the peasant women in the vicinity, who had loosened their farming, gathered around him until he had finished his story, packed up his violin, and staggered to the village in the evening breeze before he dispersed melancholy. So, on a fortunate day, they can be accompanied by a young dancer and singer for several nights in a row with someone to provide an exquisite rest, but in unfortunate times, they often carry their instruments alone, and are even rejected by the monastery that is kind to charity, and turn away from the mountain gate in a desolate and desolate manner.

In this Tianlan continent where strength is supreme, most of the bards are ordinary people who have no strength, and some even wear the garb of bards, but they do the trick of seducing women from good families, maybe not much, but their peers have suffered unjustified disasters because of this, maybe people will think of them when they are bored, but it is undeniable that they are despised by the people on the mainland.

To put it simply, bards are perhaps only a little better than beggars, but very few.

"Yes, yes!" said the bard hurriedly stepped back, put away his wooden harp, looked around a little, sighed a little disappointed, and walked towards the tavern door.

The curtain was lifted, the wooden door opened, and it slammed squarely on the bard, not very hard, but on the bard's arm—he was about to push the door.

"Oh~"

The bard let out a low scream and took a few steps back.

With a gust of wind, the people outside the door were already standing at the door. (To be continued.) )