The dungeon, which does not see the light of day, seems to be shrouded in ambiguous darkness from the moment it is built, and the prisoners imprisoned inside it can only wait for their fate.

The lights of the city have never seemed so far away, and the dimly lit space is lit only by a small torch embedded in the wall not far away. One can't help but wonder if you have returned to the colonial era, and the architecture here reveals only the dark atmosphere of Zài's past.

The sound of hurried footsteps shook the air*, and the jailer, attracted by the sound of metal, strode to the small cubicle that caused an unexpected commotion in the cell. They were silent and swift, but in a few moments they rushed from somewhere far away to the corridor in front of the cell.

A moment later, a tall black figure walked slowly over with a half-decayed torch in his hand. The thin and tall body looked shaky, and the flame in his hand radiated dazzling brilliance, and the asymmetrical two showed a strange exaggerated sense of existence in the dark space.

The firelight did not reflect his countenance, only a masked thing covered its face, and not even its facial features were revealed. A piece of "clothing" that could only be described as rags was entangled around him, with crimson stains on the edges of the rotting flocculents.

This "creature" is a kind of existence other than human beings, and such an intuitive impression is transmitted directly to the viewer's cognition through its appearance. Every step he took left a bloody footprint on the ground, the scraps of flesh left in the area he passed.

Several large metal skeletons were embedded in various parts of his body, and black, viscous blood was dripping from the rusted steel. Similar to the giant monster he encountered before, the same magic operation was used on this monster by the Eye of True Sight.

Sharp shards of metal covered its hands, and the flesh and bones of its previous victim could still be seen on the "blades". Just looking at them makes you feel the smell of blood. I don't know how many victims have been buried in this arm.

"Hmph, a stench of corpses. ”

Lizzie covered her hand and fanned her nose with disdain, as if to dispel the stench of flesh and blood away from herself: "With this kind of scum who has been dead for an unknown amount of time, what kind of laziness are those guys? Or do they really look down on us?"

For the average prisoner, this monster may be an extremely dangerous opponent. For Curt and Lizzie, however, it's not an indestructible being, perhaps. Curt didn't even need to worry about the death of his opponent - because it was already a corpse.

It was too late, but it was too late, and Curt's figure flashed in the dim light of the fire.

The dry air flipped the hem of his coat and kicked his feet to the ground, and Curt swept the chains in his hands towards the tall, lanky monster, the only thing standing between him and his target was the rusty iron lattice. The darkness enveloped all around it was as black as a cavern in the night, and the chains that had been thrown out left a half-moon-shaped mark in the firelight. It's as thin and cold as ice about to melt.

With the movement of the metal chain, Curt drew some of the magic from his body and focused on it. In the blink of an eye, the shiny chains were wrapped around the throats of the enemy, and the horizontal wind blew suddenly, and some of the tattered coats flew up and down. The blood-stained hem of the garment crackled with it.

"Whew-whew-whew-"

The middle of the tough metal chain first hit the opponent's throat, and then circled its dry neck like a poisonous snake under Curt's control. The monster hit by the metal only let out a few low gasps, and nothing else responded.

It has long forgotten what pain and fear are, and will never be shaken by the slightest pain. This is perhaps the most important thing most of the sorcerers who use the dead as soldiers, who are absolutely loyal and do not know what to fear.

With this attack alone, there was no way to knock out the jailer made of corpses, and Curt immediately took the next step. Taking advantage of the fact that the unresponsive monster had not yet made any move, he quickly took a few steps back and paddled lightly behind him.

Sonor!

Moment. The steel chains straightened, and Curt, who was pulling it backwards, leaned forward and pinched the monster around his neck with his hand. The two sides refused to back down as if they were competing with the power of water, and the taut chains trembled constantly.

Huge bodies naturally have corresponding strength. Even if part of its body is rotten, it can exert more power than Curt. Curt, who knew the difference between strength and weakness, did not intend to force a fight with it, but just let go when the opponent's strength increased to a certain extent.

Suddenly, the torn chain flew out in the direction of the monster, and before it could change its posture with a strong force, it fell to the iron lattice behind it due to strong inertia. The metal thorns collided with the rusted railing, sinking deep into its scarred body with a heavy thud - the collision tore open a large wound. The rotten and spoiled pieces of meat showed a wonderful sheen in the firelight.

The rusty metal shards had already sunk deep into the monster's body, and viscous, jet-black dead blood spurted out of the hastily stitched wounds. The cold blood has long since lost all activity. It flows through its shell like sludge or some kind of oil.

"The dead should stay in the grave. ”

The monster on the ground struggled to get to its feet, but several streamers burst out of the darkness behind Curt. Straight into its arms. One after another, arrow-shaped streamers shot out from the Rubik's cube at Lizzy's fingertips, slicing through the body of the monster that hit the air directly.

The rags that wrapped around it were ignited by the glow of magic, and faded little by little in the light of the light. The body torn by the blade, the ribs pierced from the chest, and the body of the blood-stained monster that hung a little to the ground seemed to have been forcibly pieced together by the makers with various materials, and the crudely stitched stitches had completely turned black, and the stench of the nasal was emanating from the internal test.

The blasting magic spread the impact, and they not only destroyed the tattered shroud, but also ripped pieces of flesh from the monster's body. The unprotected body continued to disintegrate under the storm of spells, revealing the bones that had been dyed with a layer of purple-black in an instant.

"This 'jailer' is nothing more than a zombie at best, is it necessary for you to dismember it in such a violent way?"

Seeing that Lizzie kept driving spells to embed magical arrows into the monster's body, Curt raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, "If you just want to destroy it, instead of using this kind of pure magic to build an 'arrow', you might as well choose to use fire or something to ignite it, right?"

The idea that a burning flame can burn away the filth of the world has existed in many religious beliefs. Since the beginning of time, fire has been one of the most widely used items when slaughtering dangerous monsters or "evil magicians".

Everything that has life fears flames, because flames often bring pain and death - but the dead have nothing to fear, because they have long since lost everything they can lose. Neither violent elements nor a hail of bullets meant anything to them.

In fact, for the dead, no matter what means are only the means to destroy them, and only those who want to destroy them have the right to choose the means.

"Do you think we're the only two of us trying to escape from this prison?" a mocking smile appeared on Lizzie's face in disdain at Curt's doubts, "If the True Eye guys weren't in their brains, they'd have something in store for the jailer." ”

As if to prove what Lizzie said, the body of the "jailer", who was almost completely destroyed by Lizzie, inflated like a balloon. Its abdomen grew larger and larger at a speed visible to the naked eye, and several red circular Rubik's Cubes appeared on it, flickering like flames.

The heat was accumulating in the "jailer's" body, and the dead blood, which had been cooling for a long time, was surging under the heat, and fine bubbles were forming in the jet-black liquid. Red-hot light scattered from the center of the Rubik's Cube, a flame-like glow that foreshadowed an impending outburst.

It looks a bit like some kind of Rubik's Cube that creates an explosion, and maybe there is some kind of strengthening on this basis. There is no doubt that when the monster is attacked and unable to resist, these spells will be activated, turning those who try to escape from this prison to ashes.

Looking at the changes taking place in front of him, Curt couldn't help but grit his teeth and scolded: "Hell, these guys are really a bunch of crazy people! Actually setting up such a high-power burst spell in such a place, aren't they afraid of involving their own people because of an accidental explosion!"

It only took one glance at the Rubik's Cube, which was gradually becoming hot, and Curt was mentally prepared for the heat and wind explosion that was coming. Moreover, since the other party chooses to plant explosive bombs in the corpse, it usually evaporates the poisonous body fluids into gas and scatters them in all nearby areas.

A mixture of heat and poison, the people who live here undoubtedly don't intend to leave anyone alive to bring news about the dungeon to the outside world.

"Hmph, who knows?"

Lizzie grinned, then waved her hand diagonally downward—and in the blink of an eye, the "arrows" embedded deep in the monster's body burst into dazzling light. More than a dozen hemispherical membranes centered on them, wrapping the body of the "jailer" layer by layer.

In an instant, the blazing light tore open the body of the "jailer". (To be continued)